Oh, Holy Night

We were sitting together on the couch watching some pathetic American soap. As usual, Emily was leaning into me, her head on my shoulder and my left arm draped over her right shoulder, my hand tantalisingly close to her breast, but not quite there. My attention drifted from the screen to my future wife. I began to be aware of her breathing, and was it my imagination, or was it deepening? Was she asleep? She sometimes dozed off in my arms after a hard day at work, but somehow, even without seeing her eyes, I knew she was actually wide awake. A small noise in the back of her throat…somewhere between a sigh and a moan confirmed that whatever was happening, she was wide awake. 

The couple on screen kissed, then began slowly to undress each other. Oh, there would be no steamy sex…not on this channel…not on this show, but the implication was there. Emily moved slightly, and my hand accidentally brushed across her naked breast. Oh, I didn’t explain…we had showered and we’re sitting wrapped only in towels on the couch. Hers had shifted, exposing her firm, perfectly formed ‘tit’ as she calls it. As my hand contacted the skin, she shuddered. An invitation, perhaps? Although we are lovers, we never assume, never take it for granted that the other wants sex. We court each other every single time. Even when she had me from behind over the kitchen sink she gave me opportunity to stop. 

I stroked her breast again. This time she sat up and turned to me. She leaned in and kissed me, making me melt. I began to lean in further, an almost imperceptible shift in balance, but she held my face in both hands and smiled. “No…watch me."

Emily got up sinuously, shedding her towel as she went. Across from me is am armchair…it’s an old, overstuffed thing, more at home in an 18th century drawing room than here, but we love it. It’s large, and accommodating, perfect for what she had in mind. 

She lay back in it, and my eyes roamed over her tight body. I know every muscle, every shape, from the gentle swell of her belly, to the curve of her hips and her perfect jutting brea….no, let’s use her words…her perfect, jutting titties. Eventually, and I’m sure she had waited for this, my eyes locked with hers. She gave a rueful little smile as if to say, “Hey…I’m up here!” 

Slowly, her legs parted. “Look at me.” My eyes flicked down to the moist haven between her thighs. “One day, our baby will come from here. One day, you will go out and get fucked, and you will inseminate me with the sperm.” I hadn’t even thought about us having children one day, but I knew it was my dearest wish. 

“Now, no more talking..watch me…watch me pleasure myself.”

Watching Emily masturbate is somewhere between watching the most emotionally charged play you’ve ever seen, and a religious experience. The moment is almost holy. 

Her hands cupped her titties, and her head tilted back against the overstuffed back of the chair. She seemed to disappear inside her mind, and I’m sure that she was no longer in the room. She would tell me later what fantasy was in her mind. 

She teased her puffy nipples up hard. Although still with their adolescent puffiness, her nipples stand pert and proud and are exquisitely sensitive. When she began to pinch and flick them, it caused shockwaves throughout her entire body, and, joy of joys, it caused her vagina to ooze. 

It seemed to take ages before her hands left her titties and stroked down over her tummy. By this time, her vagina was soaked, as was the chair….we really do love that chair! She found her clit, standing proud between her labia and circled it with a single fingertip. She sighed deeply and then allowed one finger to become two. I realised my mouth was dry and my heart thumped in anticipation! Oh, how I wanted her to penetrate herself! 

A quick flash seared across my mind. “Masturbation, girls, makes the Virgin Mary weep.” The quick flash of memory became a white hot sear of anger. How fucking dare they? What, in God’s name, could possibly be sinful about this unspeakable beauty happening before me? 

Emily took a deep breath and slowly those two fingers sank from my sight between her moist folds. I knew…oh…how I knew what that felt like. I knew exactly how her vagina would instinctively tighten just as it was penetrated. I knew how she would feel the sides of her vagina almost instantly grow and move away from her fingertips. 

Emily’s left hand tightened around her right wrist. It can be a bit of a stretch for any girl who enjoys two fingers deep inside her and a little support from the other hand sometimes helps. 

Did I imagine it, or did I see her lower tummy bulge a fraction? Probably imaginary, but I knew she was hooking her fingers forward and rubbing her g-spot. She usually masturbates like this. Oh, she uses toys now and then, but when she wants pure, solo action, it is always her fingers and her g-spot. 

Her breathing quickened, and a flush began to grow across her chest and neck….Ohh…I sniffed, and realised I was crying softly. Every ounce of love I have for this girl was sent across the room to her. I was aroused…how could I not be…but this was…sacred…this was….holy. 

I noticed a barely perceptible tightening and relaxing of her bum cheeks. As I watched the movement became more pronounced, more urgent, and less controlled. The soft sound of her wetness drifted across to me as did her sexual scent, that sweet musk that drives me insane, and causes me to pour from between my legs. 

Her movements, both of her hand and her bum cheeks became…now desperate…vigorous…I could only guess what was in her mind at this point, but it looked to me like she was fantasising about being fucked…but surely that wouldn’t be a fantasy of hers…not my lovely, sweet, divine, totally lesbian Emily? 

Her mouth opened in the perfect ‘O’ that is her cum face. Her eyes screwed up tight, her brow furrowed as if some unspeakable agony was taking place inside her. Her back arched and a deep groan of pure extract was torn from her. A milky liquid poured from her and her rapidly moving hand spread it around her bum cheeks and her inner thighs. 

Watching her recover was as sweet as being allowed to watch this event. I felt privileged beyond words.

When she was ready, she got up, naked now, and crossed the lounge back to the couched, and snuggled into me again. I knew not to sully the moment by asking her anything. I knew that in time, if she wished, she would be the first to speak. 

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. Her warmth, her sweat, her erotic scent filled the air around us like a blanket. 

I closed my eyes and simply let the time pass.

“I was imagining being fucked….by a man.” My eyes snapped open. Emily? Fantasising about a man? What the…? 

“I imagined it, because I know you enjoy it….and because I know, deep down, you want me to experience it too.” 

I have never, neither by intimation or direct request ever suggested she should try a man. Oh, I hoped she might one day…I hoped we might have a FFM threesome one day…but never have I told her I would like to sit in a chair and watch a man fuck her. 

“It made me cum wildly. While I was sitting here…before…I began thinking about it when that couple on thenTV got together, but then I realised I was actually getting turned on by the thought.”

Well….sometimes I dont know what to say, and sometimes Miss Brain is screaming, “SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DONT SAY A FUCKING WORD.” This was the latter. 

“I don’t feel attracted to men. I know what I am and what I like….but I think the pleasure I know you would get watching me would give me pleasure too.” 

We talked about my next meeting with Chris at which she wants to watch us….and who knows now where that might lead.