Two Gifts in One

Just like a child, Sarah woke up early on Christmas Day. Although she was 24, the same excitement tingled through her veins. Her boyfriend had hinted at a very special gift — she just knew he was going to propose — she just knew it.

In anticipation of their special romantic time together, Sarah had gone all out cleaning and fixing up her apartment, especially the bedroom. She could see everything in her mind’s eye: they would nosh on gourmet treats a little, open their gifts, and then he would be a little nervous.

Alan would reach into his pocket and hesitate. Very slowly he would pull out the velveteen box, open it, and show her the sparkling diamond. He’d get on one knee, wish her the best Merry Christmas ever, and ask her to be his wife.

Then they’d retreat to the bedroom, where she would have set up about 100 candles, massage oil, some toys to play with, and a few other holiday treats. He’d slowly strip her down to her sexy red bra and panties and ohhhh … what a wonderful night they would have, exploring new positions and exploding into passion like a double nova lighting up the galaxy.

Sarah cuddled herself for a moment. Yum, yum. Alan was a great lover. She had no doubt he would take her to new heights this Christmas Day.

She jumped out of bed like an FBI agent in a knife-throwing contest and whipped the linens into the laundry. Brand spanking new sheets went on. She grinned at the thought. Mmm, spanking. Whee!

She snapped her fingers and hummed a little Christmas tune as she popped open the bag of 100 tea lights. Yeah … all of ’em. That oughta do it. The folding tables had seen better days, but she hadn’t been able to afford new ones. Hopefully the scratches in the wood — she paused and smirked at the word, wood — would be the last thing on their minds. Hee, hee. Still, she arranged the toys and potions to cover the worst of the wear.

In the kitchen she carefully pulled the fresh roses from the fridge and a pair of vases from the cupboard. To the latter, she added half a packet of flower powder and filled the globes with lukewarm water. After stripping away the excess foliage, she arranged the stems in graduating heights. The pink and burgundy buds were perfect. They weren’t too tight, and by the time she and Alan hit the feathers, they’d be in mid-bloom and perfuming the room.

Sarah ran a sink full of water and cut the stems under water. Then she fussed the flowers into place and blotted the vases with clean paper towels. One bouquet went on the bedroom bookshelf; the other, she balanced on the windowsill.

She stood back for a minute with a critical eye. Candles, roses…champagne bucket, that should be next. The hopeful bride-to-be hustled back to the kitchen and hauled out a metal mixing bowl. Okay, so it was a poor substitute, but it was the best she could do. Sarah was a clever girl. She’d saved the bottle from Thanksgiving, partly for sentimental and partly for practical reasons. Now she held it in the mixing bowl at a slight angle and filled around it with ice cubes. She stuck the whole shebang in the freezer. It barely fit.

Now — let’s see. I should eat. Stopping to eat was a pain in the ass, but it had to be done. In the ass… Maybe! she thought with a grin. You never know!

Sarah downed a grapefruit impatiently and marched back into the kitchen like Kirk Douglas to the front. By god! She gave the food processor a workout, shredding carrots for the carrot cake. It was Alan’s favorite. Then the potatoes knew no mercy before her French cutter.

By two in the afternoon, the smells of baking ham competed with maple-drenched yams in the baby slow cooker. Seven-layer bars held up the chocolate end of things, and a frozen green veggie huddled in the microwave, ready for nuking. The young woman was running low on energy, so she munched on a protein power bar while she shaved her legs.

In some ways this was the nicest part of the day — taking care of herself. It would be at least another ninety minutes before Alan rang the doorbell. He was the ten-minutes-late type, sometimes more, but he always showed eventually.

A tiny voice at the back of her mind said Don’t you deserve better? She told the voice that different people had different styles and to shut the hell up, it was Christmas Day, and nobody and nothing was going to ruin her holiday. Sarah glided the razor over her mound, pulled the curtain, and turned on the shower.

Ahhh, that was nice. The hot water streamed through her long, light brown hair. For a minute her sexual fantasies and practical checklisting gave way to a different kind of daydreaming. What if the tables were turned? What if she were going to see Alan, and he had spent the day cooking and cleaning? What if his entire goal for the day was to treat her like a queen, to pamper her and think of her every need?

What a ridiculous notion. I’m the woman, and that’s what women get. The tiny voice spoke up again to say Sarah, it’s your choice, but again, she told the guilt-monger to shut the fuck up.

By the time the doorbell rang, Sarah was clean and smooth as Elizabeth Arden. She felt supremely accomplished.

The ringing of the bell startled her a little — she must have dozed off in the La-Z-Boy. Well, so much the better. That would give her staying power later for round after round of great sex.

“Coming!”

Alan greeted her with a kiss. “For a second I thought you weren’t home!”

She hung up his coat. “That’s silly. Of course I’m here. Would you like a drink?”

“Pinot grigio would be nice, if you have it.” He carried a large shopping bag into the living room while Sarah poured them a couple of glasses of wine.

“What’s in the bag?” she teased.

“I guess we’ll just have to find out now, won’t we?” Alan wrinkled his nose and grinned at her.

“Yup, I guess we will.”

They munched on the treats Sarah had prepared and drank wine while they opened their gifts to one another. For him, there was a wristwatch, a GPS, and a set of nice stemware.

“These are so thoughtful,” he thanked her. “I’m afraid mine aren’t as creative. Well, most of them,” he added. He looked away and blushed a little.

“You don’t have to be creative, just be yourself. That’s all I ever want you to be.”

“Well, okay, here goes.”

His first gift to her was a large box of expensive gourmet chocolates.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll enjoy these.” Sarah was getting a little tipsy, and they weren’t even to the champagne dinner yet. She bit into one of the candies. It was delicious.

I can’t wait to taste you, Alan.

“My next gift is small, but remember, good things come in small packages.”

Sarah’s heart picked up its pace as Alan reached into the shopping bag. He looked at her and rattled the gift around, as if he were searching for it at the bottom.

“Don’t make me wait!” she cried. She was smiling, but her anxiety was rising.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

Instantly she did so. It seemed like an hour and like a nanosecond at the same time. Alan laid the small velvet box in her hands. He steadied her hands and opened the box. The hinge popped open.

“Okay, you can look now.”

Sarah’s eyes flew open faster than a striking rattler — and she beheld — a diamond — on a pretty gold chain.

She barely bit back the words, “That’s it?” But Alan saw the disappointment on her face.

“You don’t like it.” His shoulders slumped.

“Oh, I do! I love it! Here, put it on me.” Sarah lifted her hair and twisted on the couch.

“You’re sure? We can exchange it.”

“No, no, Alan, it’s gorgeous. I really appreciate that you picked it out for me.”

He fumbled the clasp into place and kissed the back of her neck. “All done.”

They faced one another again and she kissed and hugged him. “Thank you, my darling, I really love it.” She really did. Maybe he’d propose on Valentine’s Day, or maybe she would surprise him that day and pop the question herself.

“So, you ready for a wonderful dinner?” Sarah smiled and put her hands on his knees.

Alan kept her from standing up. “I have one more gift.” This time he blushed deeply.

Sarah blinked in confusion. “Wh, what do you mean?”

Alan was reaching into his pants pocket. He looked terribly nervous. Sarah’s heart began to flutter once more. Could it be? Breathlessly she waited for his answer.

“You might not want it,” he said. Then he mumbled, perhaps to himself, “Maybe I made a mistake, but…”

“What is it, darling, what is it?”

Her boyfriend was clearly gripping something in his pants pocket — something of a size to fit in a man’s palm.

He leaned back and wiped a bit of sweat from his brow. “You remember I told you last week, Lars and Amy broke up?”

“Ye-e-e-es.” Lars and Amy had been their friends for over a year. The two couples had often enjoyed spending time together. Sarah could not see what their breakup had to do with her and Alan.

Maybe Alan feared to propose, thinking she would not keep her commitment? “Are you worried that I would break up with you?”

“No, no, that’s not it.”

“Well, what then?” Sarah was starting to feel exasperated.

“My special gift to you today … is Lars.”

“What?”

“Lars and me,” he corrected quickly. “Both of us, for you.”

Sarah threw back her head and laughed. “You can’t possibly mean what I think you mean.” She laughed and laughed, almost hysterically. “That’s a good one. You and Lars for me. Doing what, I would like to know. Laundry? Cleaning up after dinner?”

Alan smiled with her but was not quite laughing. “Making love to you, Sarah.”

She quit giggling and stared. “You’re serious.”

Alan put his hands on her hips and kissed her. “Yes.” Kiss. “I am.” Kiss. “Quite serious.”

Sarah’s mind circled like a one-armed swimmer, going around and around with wine and sex and what? With Alan and Lars? This is crazy. This is absolutely crazy.

Alan was watching her. “You can say no. But you’ve told me about your fantasy about two men making love to you at the same time. Lars thinks you’re hot, and he said yes. If you’ll say yes.”

“I — I need some time to think —”

“No, don’t. Don’t think. Stop being rational for just one evening and have a good time! Let two men take care of you, instead of you taking care of everybody else for a change.”

This isn’t exactly what I had in mind, she thought. But out loud she said, “Okay, what the hell.”

“Great!” said Alan. He took his cell phone out of his pants pocket. He pushed one button and spoke: “She says yes.”

He snapped the phone shut. “He’ll be here in a minute.”

“What? You mean he’s been waiting this whole time?”

Alan looked at the clock. “No, only about ten minutes.”

The doorbell rang.

“Whoa! That was quick!” Sarah walked over to the door and opened it.

There stood Lars, all six-foot-two of him, grinning. He glanced up at the mistletoe. “Hello, Sarah. Merry Christmas.” He scooped her up in his arms and pressed his lips to hers. His tongue poured into her mouth like chocolate fudge in the making.

Sarah would have fallen over backwards, but Lars held her. His kiss was the stuff of paperback bodice-rippers, ever in motion, as if he would find the very core of her and swab it clean. He attacked and retreated, driving her ever back. Any resistance she might have had to the idea of intimacy with him simply melted like a snowflake on a warm, naked breast.

Neither were his hands idle. Lars did not hesitate to take the invitation of the three bare inches of belly skin. He rubbed her tummy and if Sarah had been a red setter, she would have wagged her tail. This was nice. It was nothing compared to the lower back massage that ovaled her ribs and spine, though. Lars quickly proved he knew his way around a woman’s orbit. He dropped serious hints about the immediate future without ever saying a word.

By the time he started in on her neck, Sarah was breathless and her panties were wet. She closed her eyes and hung onto Lars’ shoulders. She leaned back and he leaned forward. His hands squeezed her ass and she made the squeaky toy noise. “Oh!”

The tip of his tongue was tracing her ear when a pair of hands slid under her skimpy top and started playing with her breasts. Sarah opened her eyes. Alan was standing there with a look of lust on his face. Softly he asked her, “Do you like this, Sarah?”

“Yes,” she admitted. She felt at odds with herself, guilty and exultant all at the same time. Only sluts would sleep with two men at once. Only a wild, slutty, nasty girl would take on her groom-to-be and a friend of his. Bring it! cried her inner self. It’s my turn!

“Bring it,” Sarah breathed. Lars plucked her up in a fireman’s carry and set her down near the couch. He knelt in front of her and kissed her belly button.

“I must be dreaming,” she moaned.

“No dream,” he got out, and then his face was all over her tummy. He unzipped her jeans and tugged at the hips. Alan was behind her, on his knees on the couch, stroking up her shirt.

“Lift your arms, Sarah.”

She did so and he slid away her stretchy holiday blouse.

Alan made noises of appreciation over the Santa-red demi bra. “Oh, Sarah, you have the nicest tits.” He fondled her chest as Lars dragged her pants ever lower. The waistline of her red bikini came into view.

“Yum,” Lars declared. He got her pants down around her thighs and slid one hand sideways between her legs. Sarah gasped at the hard length of his index finger rubbing at the slit of her camel toe. “Oh, god. Oh, god,” she moaned. For Alan was starting to pinch her nipples at the same time.

“Why, Sarah, you’re wet!” Lars teased. “Whatever shall we do?”

She could only moan in response. Lars waggled his thumb as if it were talking. “Eat me! Eat me!” Every vertical thumb-wiggle pushed at her clit. Sarah grew wetter. A wet spot darkened the crotch of her Christmas-red panties.

Lars pushed her into a seated position on the edge of the couch and finished stripping off her jeans. He had not undressed at all. Neither had Alan.

Alan got off the couch and stood, his hips level with Sarah’s face. He unzipped his jeans. Her eyes flew wide as she realized she was about to suck her boyfriend’s cock while another man watched.

Lars had his sweaty hands on her naked thighs. She looked into his face. It was a total mask of lust. “Suck him, Sarah. Show me how you take his cock in your mouth.”

Alan pulled out his cock and brushed the head against her lips. “Lick me, baby.”

She did so, darting her tongue at the tip while she curled her fist around his length.

Lars demanded, “Open your eyes. Look me in the eye while you give him head.”

Again she obeyed. The erotic thrill jingled through her blood and she began to suck him enthusiastically. She found herself showing off for their guest, proving what a good little cocksucker she could be. Lars told her so, and then to her surprise, he leaned in and kissed her as well as he could while her mouth was full of Alan.

“You deserve some head, too, Sarah,” and Lars dove for her crotch.

She almost lost it then, for something changed. It was suddenly like making love with two men, for Alan slowed down. Deliberately and with care he glided his cock over her tongue. She looked up. His eyes held warmth and tenderness. He stroked her hair and said her name.

All the while, Lars was kissing the crotch of her panties, murmuring pillow talk. Something about how beautiful and sweet she was. His sweater was soft where it brushed against her legs. He licked her satin with a broad, open tongue, and traced the hourglass edges. At last his fingers pulled away the rosy little fabric scrap. He probed her swollen wetness.

“Sarah, are you ready?”

She sucked her way off of Alan’s cock. “Yes.” There was no doubt in her mind. “But I don’t want to be the only one naked.”

The men looked at each other with sheepish grins. “Uh, yeah.” In a moment they whipped off their clothes and Sarah stared at Lars’ equipment. She lifted her breasts in her hands, masturbating as a natural response. She admired his gift. Oh, my. What a nice ride this was going to be.

“Like it?” Lars grinned lasciviously and stroked himself, returning the wink and hello. He rose like an elephant’s trunk. Sarah was about to get on her knees in adoration when Alan interrupted their flirting.

“Ahem,” he called. He sat by the tree, the newly opened gifts in the background.

“Come lie down under the tree, Sara. Get ready to receive your Christmas present.”

Quickly she joined him and laid down on her back. The diamond slid to one side of her neck. “Like this?”

“Yes, just like that.”

The boys moved around — between the pine branches and their limbs, she couldn’t see everything that was happening. The sound of a condom wrapper reached her ears. For a moment, a little bit of the day caught up with her, and she was tired.

“You’re okay, aren’t you Sarah?” That was Lars.

“I feel great,” she assured him.

“Well that’s wonderful you beautiful girl, because Alan is going to fuck your mouth, while I give your pussy something to remember me by.”

She smiled her gladness. Alan put his knees under her armpits and lowered his cock into her mouth. She handled his hips to guide him in.

“Oh, baby,” he moaned, and lowered his torso. As he began to thrust, Sarah could feel Lars holding her thighs.

“Don’t tense up, just relax,” he told her. “I’m gonna take good care of you.”

He petted her mound, cooing at its smoothness, and slid a couple of fingers into her hot cream. She was soaking wet, more than ready, and then he was inside her. God he felt good. His size fit her pussy so perfectly. He didn’t stretch her to the point of pain, but he filled her up, oh, so nicely. Satisfaction rolled from her body in waves. With a pang of guilt, she realized she almost wanted to push Alan out of the way, just to take Lars in her arms.

Lars’ face appeared by Alan’s right hip. He was smiling at her in pure happiness, as if the two of them were enjoying a day at the zoo. “Are you enjoying your Christmas present, Sarah?”

She nodded, yes, and the answer gleamed in her eyes.

“Good,” he answered. “I want to make you happy.”

He proceeded to fuck her faster, sparking her system’s engine, and she let go completely, and let it happen. She let the men do the work.

“That’s it, Sarah!” cried Lars. “Move with me, come with me!” Faster and faster he rode her. She spread her legs wide, one calf coming up against the trunk of the Christmas tree, and Lars surprised her again. He pulled out long enough to scoop up a fingerful of her lubrication and winked at her as if to say, watch this.

He entered her again — ah, that warm snug cock in her pussy — and pressed his wet finger up Alan’s ass.

“Shit!” Alan jerked like a sidewinder, thrashed, and came. Sarah sputtered on the mighty gush.

“Now, Sarah, now!” Lars pinched her clit and she gasped and drew up her knees involuntarily. Her writhing dislodged Alan. Lars swore; his muscles rippled from head to toe. He pulled out, stripped off his raincoat and stroked himself, shooting his eggnog all over Sarah’s chest and abs. “Oh. Oh, fuck,” he groaned. Sweat rolled from his brow. His face was flushed like a poinsettia.

Sarah ran her hands in a cupping motion, gathering up his cum and sweeping it into her skin like a precious lotion. She put some in her mouth, tasting the two men together.

“Mmmmm…”

* * *

She woke in her bed, cradled between two men. She embraced one of them — Lars, she thought sleepily — and cuddled her face against his back. Her fingers interlaced with his chest hair and gave kindness to his nipples.

Hands lifted hers to a masculine mouth and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. Lars said something about a Volvo, and she drifted back into sleep.

Several hours later, she woke again. Alan lay curled with his back to her. Lars was gone.