Putting the SeX in Xmas

by Summer Jordan

  “Oh. What kind of goodies fall out?”

  “Fortunes or mottoes of some sort. Paper hats, often ones that open up to look like crowns. Small toys or prizes. My grandmother included coins and candy, and she decorated the crackers with ribbon and such so they were very appealing. She enjoyed making them as much as we enjoyed cracking them.”

  “I can see why a child would be charmed,” Kati said, trying to picture Andrew as a young boy celebrating Christmas that way. She’d wanted to call him Andy when they’d first met, and that fit the image she had of him as a tot. But he’d said he’d always been called ‘Andrew’ and thus preferred it.

  The name did suit him. Tall, he always stood straight, and she felt his presence whenever he entered a room.

  “But what about the grownups? Do they open crackers, too?”

  “Absolutely. It’s a friendly competition. There’s lots of sparring and laughter and Brits don’t outgrow their fondness for crackers. Gram and Grampa invite close friends so there is always a full house, alive with good cheer. The first couple of years after Mum’s death, the holidays weren’t happy ones. My father didn’t know how to make the celebration special. It must take a woman’s hand to pull it off. Pop would set out a small tree a few days beforehand. A sickly, fake one he bought already decorated. And beneath it, he’d place store-wrapped presents that a clerk helped him choose. On Christmas Day, he’d take me to a restaurant for the turkey and dressing or ham and yams sort of meal, and we’d eat among lonely strangers.

  “After opening the presents, which didn’t take long, he’d pop corn and make cocoa, and we’d watch a movie. That was the best part of those days.”

  “You must admit he was trying.” Kati reached over to pat Andrew’s hand.

  He turned it over to grasp hers. “Yeah, I know he was. But I was too young to realise he was doing his best and that he was hurting, too. He’s a good father. He didn’t remarry until I graduated college.”

  This was the most personal information Andrew had ever shared. Kati was touched.

  ”When his parents invited us to spend Christmas break with them, it was the best thing that could have happened. Pop was a college professor, and school was out for both of us, so we were free to go to England, and we had a great time there.

  “Since his marriage to Thelma, they celebrate at home, and Christmas at their house is worse than the ones my father and I spent alone. Last year, she decorated the tree in pink and silver with white twinkling lights. It’s like a spread in a woman’s magazine. Stylish and cold.”

  “Have you considered going to your grandparents’ alone?” Kati would love to go with him, but that wasn’t going to happen. Not until he at least started sleeping over.

  “I don’t have that much time off work. People get sick. Doctors need medicine. When I’ve earned more holiday time, I might go.” Andrew was a rep for a large pharmaceutical company. He sometimes travelled but only within his assigned region.

  “Are you sure a short, romantic getaway wouldn’t do you good?”

  “Positive.” He rose and carried his plate to the dishwasher, squeezing her shoulder as he went past. “Christmas is a day to spend at home with the ones you love.”

  Kati felt as if Andrew had slapped her.

  “Don’t look so disappointed. We can still celebrate the day together.”

  We can still celebrate Christmas together, even though I’m not the one you love? Kati was glad when Andrew left. She had some serious thinking to do.

  * * * *

  Kati rapped on Tara’s door and was promptly invited in.

  A petite registered nurse, Tara worked third shift at Regional Hospital and was already in uniform. “What’s up?” she asked, waving Kati towards an easy chair.

  “It’s about Andrew.”

  “Of course.” Chuckling, Tara headed towards the kitchen. “What’ll it be?”

  “I brought my own.” Kati proffered the half-full bottle of Sangria she’d been holding behind her back. “I knew you were on duty tonight and couldn’t imbibe. So it seemed the fair thing to do.”

  Tara returned to sit on the colourful, flowered sofa opposite the chair she’d offered Kati. “I have an hour. Sit down and cry on Aunt Tara’s shoulder.”

  “What makes you think it’s bad news?”

  “He’s already left, and your expression is dour. Maybe I should be glad I’m not presently with a man.”

  Kati shrugged and related the story about Andrew’s views on Christmas. “If I weren’t so put out by his remark, I’d try giving him what he wants. Which reminds me…” She told Tara about the events that had taken place earlier. As that tale unfolded, Kati’s mood lifted, and a smile escaped. “He gave me one orgasm after another.”

  “So? Doesn’t he deserve a holiday like Gram used to give him? You could score a lot of brownie points that way. Roast a goose. Make crackers.” Tara laughed. “I’d have been thrown by that, too.”

  “You really think I could pull it off? I know very little about anything British.”

  “Search the internet for customs, recipes, etcetera, and you’ll find everything you need. I’ll bet you.”

  “And wow, would that be a coup, to give him what he wants.” Kati bounced on the purple chair cushion. Tara liked bright colours. Maybe that was why she was usually cheerful. On the other hand, she could be distressingly realistic. Hopefully, she didn’t show that side of her personality to her patients.

  “I’ll make the U.K. Christmas the final step—the aha moment of my plan,” Kati announced triumphantly.

  “What plan?” Tara threw her arm across her forehead and closed her eyes. “I’m not sure I really want to hear this.”

  “I won’t be happy until he initiates sex.” Kati held up her hand to stop any unwelcome remarks. “He has to want me so badly that he makes the opening move. Then, just to show him the tables have turned, I’ll take charge and show him what this woman is made of.” She chuckled gleefully. She’d just come up with that idea.

  “If Andrew is properly enamoured, he’ll ask me to spend the night. And following a night of wild and wicked fucking, he’ll suggest I move in.”

  “Just like that? You could benefit from some of Andrew’s reserve, Kati. You want everything to happen ‘right now’.”

  “My ultimate goal, of course, is for him to decide he can’t live without me and declare his undying love.” Kati, not about to let Tara stop her, held out her left hand and wiggled her third finger. “A diamond engagement ring would make a lovely Christmas present.”

  As she unfolded her intentions aloud as they crystallized, her excitement mounted. “A Christmas like Gram’s will be the cherry on top. He’ll be dying to marry me.”

  “You are a conniving woman, Kati Johnson. That’s really underhanded, making a plan to trap a man through fucking him to death.” Tara broke into laughter. “You’re too much.”

  “I don’t plan to kill Andrew. I just want to lower his resistance. And a real old-fashioned Brit Christmas will be my ace in the hole. If he proposes then, he might give me a ring on New Year’s Eve, and I’ll suggest a February 14th wedding. Valentine’s Day would be perfect for the marriage of Kati Michelle Johnson and Andrew James Howell, II.”

  “Aren’t you being a little greedy?” Tara asked. “Couldn’t you settle for just moving in together? Marriage isn’t a must these days. It makes it easier when you decide to part ways.”

  Tara had been living with a guy for a year when he’d walked out, and she was still cynical.

  “I know a wedding band and licence don’t come with a guarantee, but it makes two people try harder to make their relationship work. I’m an old-fashioned gal,” Kati said. “I’ve wanted to be a bride since I wore white and a veil for my first communion.”

  * * * *

  Back in her apartment, slightly inebriated and tongue in cheek, Kati wrote a Christmas letter.

  Dear Santa,

  I’ve been a good girl (really great, Andrew says), and this
is what I want you to bring me, please.

  1. Seduction initiated by Andrew.

  2. An invitation to sleep over.

  3. One for me to move in with him.

  4. Four little words ~ I love you, Kati.

  5. Andrew to love the British Christmas I create

  6. Five little words ~ Will you be mine, Kati?

  7. A diamond on my left ring finger.

  8. Marriage to Andrew Howell. (The last one can come later.)

  Love, Kati Johnson

  Taping her letter, AKA ‘Kati’s plan’, inside a kitchen cabinet door, Kati crawled into bed where she lay awake, thinking of ways to lure Andrew into seducing her.

  Chapter Two

  It struck Andrew as odd that Kati called his mobile early in the morning to invite him to dinner that night. They’d been seeing one another every evening but didn’t make plans until they were both finishing up their work days. Kati’s hours at Bright’s Department Store seldom varied. She worked from 9:00 to 5:30 with half an hour for lunch. Andrew’s schedule was flexible since he was in sales and his own boss on a regional level.

  Today, he’d taken off early to have a drink with his buddy before Bob had to clock in for the evening as Bright’s Toyland Santa. Bob was moonlighting and perfectly cast, thanks to his jolly nature plus the belly he’d acquired working his day job as a pastry chef.

  Andrew wasn’t one to share confidences, so he’d barely mentioned his and Kati’s affair. But Bob, who had a second sense regarding relationships, inquired how things were going between them. Andrew shrugged and said she’d asked him over for a home-cooked meal, adding that this was the first he knew that she cooked.

  When Bob made a big deal over ‘things getting serious’, Andrew laughed it off. And when the two of them parted outside the mall café, Andrew stopped at a kiosk and bought Kati a bouquet. There. That proved he wasn’t worried by what Bob said. Kati was hot for Andrew just as he was for her. But that was as far as it went. They’d never had a serious discussion. All they did was fuck. And while he liked her a lot, that was as far as he intended their relationship to go. He didn’t want to marry anyone anytime soon.

  The flowers he’d bought were his way of expressing appreciation for her taking the trouble to cook. She was probably making dinner for the same reason—to show her gratitude for all the dinners he’d bought. A bottle of wine was his usual offering for his hostess, but he’d been drawn to the colourful blooms. He should probably take Kati a nice Chablis, as well.

  After stopping off at home to shower and change into an open neck, silk shirt that she’d said matched his eyes, and swapping white briefs for sexier black spandex, he checked his wallet for condoms. It paid to think ahead when you wanted to please a woman.

  Hopefully, the meal she’d prepared would be tasty enough to keep his sexual desires in check until later when Kati came on to him. The eagerness of her seductions was delightful, and he found her initiation of the sex act in all its variations thrilling. He’d never before known a woman like that, and it was refreshing. Usually, a man had to jump through all sorts of hoops known popularly as foreplay. A woman who loved fucking as much as Kati did was not only irresistible, she was…extraordinary.

  He pushed the button and announced, “It’s me. Andrew.”

  She buzzed him in, and he jogged up the flight of steps to the second floor. Kati had opened the door and left it ajar for him. A redhead peeking out from the apartment across the hall drew in her head and quietly closed her door. Andrew shrugged. Nosy neighbour.

  “In the kitchen,” Kati called.

  Andrew followed the delicious aroma and found her bending over the oven, peeking inside. Her black skirt hugged her cute derriere, and the garment was short enough to show a lot of leg in sheer, black stockings. Intriguing seams travelled straight up the back like arrows pointing to her hot, little pussy. He didn’t think pantyhose were made like that. So what was holding them up?

  He had a hard-on already, and dinner wasn’t even finished cooking, let alone over. “I brought…”

  She rose and turned. A lump in his throat, as big as a frog, choked off his words. Her bodice was so low cut, he could almost see her nipples. Her breasts rounded over the top of a bustier like cupcakes rising over the edge of baking tins. Her cheeks were flushed, and she’d drawn her blonde hair atop her head with curls spilling about like a waterfall. Kati’s lips were glossy and cherry red.

  He didn’t remember ever noticing the colour of her mouth before. Only the shape, which was like a cupid’s bow.

  “Good evening, Andrew.”

  She’d never spoken in that tone. It was a kind of purr. My god, Andrew thought. Bob might be right. Kati might have ulterior motives. However, the way she looked, like some sort of devilish angel, he was halfway eager to know what they were. And looking at those ripe globes, he wagered he might succumb.

  Unless a wedding was on her mind.

  He didn’t plan to marry until he was ready to start a family. If he thought he was in love, he’d live with the woman for a year or two, first. A guy needed to know what he was getting into. The woman, too. Who knew what kind of behaviour the other person exhibited behind closed doors? He supposed he was the cautious type, but he knew guys who’d gotten burned by marrying too quickly.

  “Hello?” Kati waved a hand before his eyes.

  Her fingernail polish matched her lips. He’d admired her hands before. Long, slender fingers with oval nails that he remembered as pink. Andrew wordlessly held out the flowers and proffered the wine.

  “How lovely. Thank you.” Kati came close.

  She smelled delicious. He thought she was going to kiss him, but she didn’t. Should he kiss her? Did he dare? He might ravish her body if he did. He’d love to dip his hands in her bodice and lift out those beautiful breasts and suck them until she quivered. Check under her skirt and see what was holding those sexy stockings up.

  She took a step back. “Is something wrong?” She wrinkled her brow. “You aren’t acting like yourself.” She took the gifts from him.

  “I-I’m fine.” Her demeanour was unusual, as well. And it made him nervous. He couldn’t decide what was making him uneasy. “I just… God, Kati, you look beautiful. And the food smells delicious.” He blurted out the words.

  “Thank you.” She laughed, and her chest rose and fell.

  He watched, hoping those magnificent breasts would spill out. His fingers itched to touch them. He’d like to stroke her nipples into hard peaks and taste them with his mouth.

  I have to gain control of myself. My cock is so hard, she’s sure to have noticed. Plus, I’m as tongue-tied as a bashful teen. “I…just… Do you have a vase? I could do the flowers.” He’d rather do her. Riding her fast and hard until she screamed her orgasm. Andrew had loved it the first time he’d heard her scream. And that had been the night they’d met. He’d felt on top of the world knowing he’d given her that much pleasure.

  “Wonderful.” She got a container out of the cabinet. A paper fastened to the inside of the door fluttered. She whirled around, shutting the door at the same time. “It’s nothing,” she said.

  “I didn’t ask.” But now he was curious.

  “Oh.” She looked towards the stove. “I hope you like roast pork.”

  “Of course.” He unwrapped the flowers and jammed the stems in the vase. Something was up. She knew he was hard for her. She wasn’t blind. And Kati, being Kati, ordinarily would have fondled him immediately and unzipped his pants by now. Maybe she was afraid to start something because of the food. She wouldn’t want it to burn.

  “You forgot the water,” Kati said, smiling. Her fingers lightly brushed his as she took the posies out of the vase and both away from him. He watched as she remedied the situation. “Why don’t you open the wine?”

  She handed him a corkscrew and took two glasses out of the same cabinet. “Dinner isn’t quite ready. Why don’t we take our drinks into the living room and relax?”

  Kati led
the way. He sat on the sofa and patted the cushion next to him. She sat down but not as close as he’d hoped.

  “I won’t bite,” Andrew said, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.

  “I-I’ll be right back.” She popped up and headed to the kitchen. “I want to get something,” she called over her shoulder.

  If the paper inside the cupboard was private, he thought she might be going to hide it. But it was several minutes later before she returned with a tray of oysters on the half-shell, cut lemon, pepper, hot sauce and two little forks.

  “How did you know I love these?” he asked. Surprised and delighted, he reached for one. “Hey, they’re already loose from the shell.”

  “I took the easy way out. I bought them from a speciality market and had them delivered just before you came.”

  Andrew nodded. They must be expensive purchased that way, but it made them much easier to eat. And simpler to prepare. Still, he was surprised she’d gone to those extremes for just him and her. Watching Kati purse her lips to suck the slippery oyster into her glossy, red mouth and thinking how sexy she looked doing it, he remembered that oysters were supposed to be an aphrodisiac. So, that was why she’d served them.

  It was working for him already. Just watching the movements of her lips and tongue was as rewarding as eating them. Whether she was deliberately trying to turn him on or not, he was hot for her body. As always. What was he waiting for?

  Andrew ate one with hot sauce before scooting closer to Kati for a kiss. It was a swift peck on the lips, but she sat back, eyes wide. “Wow,” she said. “Talk about heat.”

  “Are my kisses too hot for you?” he teased.

  She already had an oyster on her tiny fork but took time for a sip of Chablis.

  Smiling, Andrew took hold of her wrist and sucked the oyster down his throat. Then he tasted her lips and mouth. “Mmm, mmm. This is the way to enjoy those succulent little devils,” he said.