I've always wanted to make love on Christmas Eve under the tree and this is my first chance. Billy and I began dating in January four years ago and married in June, just before he was sent overseas. I won't say that we hadn't...indulged before then, but we hadn't gotten to the holiday season yet. So now he's back and tonight's the night!

Everything is sexy to me today. I vacuum the floor and push myself against the vibrating handle, just for a little tingle. I polish the furniture and blow off some of the dust, as if I'm practicing. Baking Billy's favorite spice cake, I keep tasting the batter, licking it off my fingers and offering them to him when he comes in the kitchen for his halftime snack.

My pounding heart and inner twinges are almost silly. He's been home from Korea for two months.

We've had sex every day since then. But there's always a fantasy, the thing you'll remember with a smile in your eighties. For me, under the tree on Christmas Eve is the ultimate...at least until I do it.

Time for me to get ready. We're going to a cocktail party tonight. I go in the bedroom and catch him coming out of the shower. God, he's so handsome. Some water beads, while some glistens in the hair

on his legs, some trickles down the hard body and pools on the floor where he stands, towel-drying his hair.

He hasn't seen me yet with the towel covering his head. I do my best wolf whistle and he comes out of his terry cloth mask with a big smile on his face. He throws the towel around my neck and pulls me close for an open-mouth kiss that involves a lot of hands.

"Do we have to go to this party?" he asks mid-kiss.

I smile under his lips. "Well, he's your boss; you decide."

He growls and rolls his eyes. "OK, I'm gonna get dressed then go buy a bottle of wine to take."

Moving to the bathroom, I rub against him."I'll try to be beautiful by the time you get back."

"You're already beautiful," he yells at me over the sound of the shower.

I put on my shower cap and step in, humming to myself, Nighttime's fallin', all the world is still; Cupid's callin' every Jack and Jill...

The shower is still primed from where Billy had just gotten out, so it begins steaming right away. I lather up my sponge and move it all over, imagining Billy's hands and mouth everywhere it touches me. Yes, he's the only lover I've ever had, but it's hard to imagine anyone knowing me and my body better. And tonight will be the best yet. I'm spoony, moony, loony, but my love is true...

I wrap the towel around me as I step out of the shower and hurry into the bedroom. I squeal, stepping onto the cold floor and make a little leap onto the bed. There's a rug under the bed that stretches to the closet so I roll over on that side and step out in front of the closet door, where my dress is hanging. It's cranberry red and skin-tight, long-sleeved and delicately sprinkled with rhinestones.

First I wiggle into my black garter belt and slide on my silk stockings. There's a bra in the dress so I don't have to worry about that. I'm just skin and silk and I feel like I'm a Christmas present, wrapping myself for my man.

My women's magazine article on Holiday Hair is divided into styles to suit coloring. I flip over to the page for brunettes. Under sable to mahogany, it advises me to make a deep side part and drape it over the other shoulder in a "long, elegant coil".

I'm bent over my dressing table, intent on twisting it as instructed and still humming, Put your arms around me, honey, hold me tight, so I'm a little surprised to suddenly feel lips on the naked half of my neck.

"I didn't hear you come in," I breathe, rather than speak, as his arm slips around my waist and he bites down on the chunky rhinestone earring I'd just clipped on my lobe.

His hand that isn't squeezing my waist comes around to cup my breast, first on the inside, then sliding into my deep square neckline. "I really don't want to go to the party," he whispers.

I pull out his hand and kiss it. "Your choice, but boss...promotion...house..."

He groans again and pulls himself to his full height. He twirls my cushioned, pedestal chair around and his eyes roam over me, the present he can't wait to unwrap. "You look too good to share, but too good not to show off," he says, pulling me up and into his arms.

"I only care about looking good for you," I remind him.

He bends down to kiss me again. "I love you, Laura."


"Always," he assures me, then goes to start the car while I do my finishing touches and put on my coat with the mink collar, that he promises me he'll someday replace with a full mink. It means more to him than it does to me.

The party is typical. It's a new house on one level with big "areas" instead of rooms, perfect for mingling. The men talk politics and business. The women talk about each other. There's a little dancing. I have to keep reminding some of the men to behave themselves.. Billy's boss is especially...determined. I have to pretend his hand isn't rubbing my hip, as I maintain a smile and inane small talk. It's just his way. I'm sure he did the same thing to some of the other women but we don't talk about that.

Dancing with Billy takes me away from all of that. It's like floating. He whispers to me while we fox trot, about all of the things he wants to do to me. "We'll sneak into your old room at your folks' house tomorrow. I'll take all your clothes off of you while your mom thinks you're basting the turkey and I'll eat your pussy while you lie on your bed with all your stuffed animals."

I love it when he talks like that, though I've never been able to do it myself—many more Sundays spent in church than the back seat of his Dad's Packard. "Let's go," he finally says.

We make a gracious but quick exit and he keeps murmuring lovely obscenities to me as we get our coats and hurry out into the frosty night and his car. It's his pride and joy after me. A friend bought one of those sports car kits and was so flummoxed when he received it, that he sold it to Billy for a lot less. Billy's never been overwhelmed by anything.

It shines like a star under the street light, a red penile star, that is. That long, curving front end of the car looks exactly like an erection, I think with a cocktail party giggle. We get into what would be the scrotum of it and head home as fast as the law and his good sense will allow. I sit practically on his lap, rubbing his leg, getting closer and closer to his coupe, to mix metaphors.

"Did your grades come in?" he asks, making the left turn on to Main Street. The stores have closed and all of the Christmas lights that were shining when we drove through earlier are turned off now. We have the street to ourselves. The world seems older, black and white, with the night and the snow, except for the modern, red projectile driving into it.

I'm so giggly tonight, maybe from having a little more to drink than usual. Maybe that's why his boss thought he could be so grabby with me. That's something to never tell Billy. I wouldn't want to jeopardize his promotion. He's worked so hard for it. I'll just try to avoid Mr. Hands when we have to see him again New Year's Eve.

"Do you really want to talk about my grades right now?" I ask, laying my head in his lap.

"I'm very proud of you for finishing college while I've been gone," he says, playing with my hair, adding in a lower voice, "and smart women are sexy."

Such a wonderful man. And the moon's shining from above, it's just about the time for making love..."

I want him so badly. My entire being wants him. He shields me from the chill, wrapping his arms around me when I crawl out from his side of the car when we arrive home. His arms are the very best blanket.

From this point on, begins my scheme to get him "spontaneously" under the tree. Inside the door, under the ideally-placed mistletoe, I drop my coat on the linoleum and let his arms and hands go anywhere they want. "Do you want something sweet and spicy?"

"Mm hm," he answers, sliding down the zipper of my dress, tooth by tooth, as he nibbles my neck and shoulders.

Another giggle, "I meant the cake."

"Later," he says, taking my hand to lead me to the bedroom, but that's not the plan.

"Come dance with me again," I request, pulling him instead into our dark living room. I plug up the Christmas tree and the room begins to glow in the colors from the lights that speckle on the walls.

I'm conscious of everything—the pine scent of the tree, the faint aroma of the cake, and the sound of Billy's movements behind me, taking off his jacket and shoes. I feel the slight grooves in the album that I put on the hi-fi and the music starts.

Billy's pushing against me, pushing the dress off my shoulders, pushing it up from the bottom. I wiggle out of it. The bra was in the dress so I'm only wearing the garter and stockings. He's unwrapped his present, much more skin than silk. He's taken off his shirt too so we dance topless. Huddle up and cuddle up with all your might...

"I love you so much, Billy," I sigh, leaning my head on his hard chest. It's a little leaner than what you see on some movie stars but better defined. "I worried about you every day when you were gone and missed you every night."

"What did you miss, baby," he asks, using just his fingertips along my spine to send shivers through me, as I subtly angle toward our destination.

His exposed nipples are so hard, they're like teeny, tiny ice cream cones so, I lick them. "You have the most beautiful body," I purr tipsily, pressing closer to him and feeling the muscles in his stomach. Almost there.

"You do, baby," he says, lowering his head to my breasts and leaning forward to bend me back a little.

And we're here. I crumple onto the thick, padded carpet, just in the spot that I'd earlier cleared of presents. It's us-sized.

"You have fantastic tits," he adds, his voice a little muffled from between them.

I titter. I love it when he talks like that...in that voice. My hands go to his belt buckle and he raises his head, giving me an intense, molasses-eyed stare. Oh, won't you roll those eyes, eyes that I just idolize...

"Tell me, baby," Billy whispers in a sexy, deep tone, taking my hand and putting on his very erect penis, "Tell me you want my hard cock."

I try another giggle. "You know I do."

He teases me, rubbing his tip on my opening, but not going in. "I wanna hear it from you," he says. "I wanna see your pretty mouth say it."

It's just one syllable and I don't want anything to spoil this otherwise perfect night...under the tree. "I want your big, hard...cock," I say, raising my hips to meet him, and the world doesn't end. His smile is something I haven't seen before, heated, hungry. I did that with one syllable.

Sex isn't something that just happens to me (no matter how much I like it). I can have some control. And as much as I want everything from him, I don't have to take shit from anyone else. Now I'm almost looking forward to New Year's Eve to put Mr. Hands in his place. Speaking of putting someone in his place...

Billy pumps harder in me now, the look on his face best described as...cock sure. "And you want me to fuck you," he states, not asks.

"No," I correct him with my new confidence, raising up and pushing him down onto the floor, "I want to fuck you."

He grins, running his hands on my silk-clad legs. "Tell me more, honey."

"I'm going to ride you like the stallion you are," I gasp, my excitement and pace mounting. "My heart begins to float, then rockin' like a motor boat..."

Looking down on him, the dark skin speckled with color from the lights like the wall, he's so gorgeous, sometimes I can't believe he loves me, but I know he does. Someone is waitin' all along for me...No more hesitatin', Dear, it's with you that I love to be..."

My body goes back and forth, my head continually banging on one particular dangling, sparkly green bulb that is just at my mounting height. Billy removes his hands from my ass and holds them up for me to clutch, bracing myself. I lean back and thrust myself on him, finding the perfect spot for both of us.

Oh, I love those little twinges before the culmination. My lower body is so tight, like it's concentrated around...that cock. My nails dig into the back of his hand and I throw my head back, gazing into the red, green, blue and yellow depths of the tree.

"You're ready, aren't you, baby?" he says in that voice that can't be given a single verb. Not groaning, not whispering, not rasping. It can only be described as his fucking voice.

"Yes," I cry, closing my eyes. Wave upon wave of the pressure releases, leaving me with a euphoria to remember, better than I ever imagined, my Christmas fantasy fulfilled.

My eyes open with difficulty and I see a room I don't recognize, so stark and impersonal, but there's a small Christmas tree under the window on my left and I smile. "Billy?"

"Yes, baby," he answers to my right.

I reach out my hand to put on his groin. "I want your big, hard cock."


There are four people across the room—a stern-looking, middle-aged woman, a chubby man and a younger man and woman who seem to be snickering.

Billy takes my hand off of him and pats it. Both of our hands are wrinkled and bony, with age spots...old. How is that possible?

I'm confused and worse, I'm in pain. My organs feel as though they're being strangled from within, maliciously. Maybe that's what is meant by having a demon inside you. I wince and try to shift to a more comfortable position in...a hospital bed?

The grip of Billy's hand tightens, as if he's trying to give me his strength, and he tells the people across the room that it's time for them to leave. The older woman comes forward first. There are tears in her eyes as she leans over me.

"Good night, Mommy. I love you," she says, putting her arms around me.

Leni, my little girl. I remember Christmas when she was three, in her pink, quilted satin robe, excited about her doll house. I put my arms around her neck and remember her at seventeen, crying on my shoulder after a bad date and my telling her not to take shit off of anybody. "I love you, baby girl," I tell her, kissing her cheek.

Her hug tightens and with a cry, she backs away to stand next to Billy and rest her head against him, the way she did when she was younger. I smile at her, remembering the day she placed her first child in my arms.

"Good night, Nana. I won't open the oven without you."

I clutch Bradley to me, as handsome as his grandfather when he was that age. I laugh at his reminder of when he was little and we made Christmas cookies together. He always knew not to open the oven until I was standing next to him, with the cookie sheet.

The chubby man, the husband. "Good night, Laura," he says from the door.

I nod in acknowledgment; that's enough for both of us.

Tears streaming down her face, tapping her white cane to reach me, is my Elora. Such a lovely girl. She's taught me to view the world with all of my senses. I can smell that her hair is that sable to mahogany color mine used to be. I can feel the tension in her hug, wanting to squeeze me tight but hesitant of causing me anymore pain. I grip her closely, accepting the added agony, to assure her that I love her.

"Some of your students came by earlier to bring you the tree, Mother," Leni says, a tremor in her voice. "They know Christmas is your favorite time of the year."

I look over at the tree through another stab of pain, my brain becoming cloudy, like dust collecting over my synapses. My students were here?

"Don't you remember, Mother? You talked to them about their deconstructions of classic Christmas stories."

I turn to my right, where Billy is standing with four people. I'm about to ask them who they are when the nurse comes in and Billy hustles them out, whimpering and saying good-bye.

I moan as the nurse pokes and prods, my eyelids lowered, my mouth slightly parted. I know that look from Billy. He's thinking of something else.

He walks with the nurse to the door. I can hear a little of what he's saying to her—one last night...not to be disturbed. I hear the door click closed and then he turns out the lights. The only illumination is the colored shimmer from the small Christmas tree. He wheels over the table on which it's sitting. It's as though I'm lying under it.

An old, familiar song plays in my head. Put your arms around me, honey, hold me tight...

"Close your eyes, baby," he says. "Close your eyes so you can see me."

It's his fucking voice. I close my eyes and he approaches me, as strong and beautiful as ever. He bends down and kisses me, blowing cool air into my body. It seems to soothe the searing pain inside. His hands gently brushing over me ease the aching on the outside.

I want to hold him but that nurse has me wired to a machine and I can't put my arms around him. He lowers his head to my breasts. "Oh, my Laura, I love you," he sighs.

I rub my face on the top of his head and ask in a weak voice, "Always?"

He brings his lips back to mine. I feel a tear from his eyes fall on my dry cheek. "Always."

The End