On the eleventh day before Christmas, my lips press and palpate his jugular pulse, then I give him two hickeys, one on each side of his neck.

On the tenth day before Christmas, the two of them nuzzle up against my ears and invite me to a threesome.

On the ninth day before Christmas I walk into the bedroom and find restraints prepared on all four bedposts, waiting and beckoning.

On the eighth day before Christmas I offer five chocolate covered fingers for all manners of devouring.

On the seventh day before Christmas, I drilled a small hole in each of six wooden clothespins, then tied the clothespins along a piece of twine, leaving some length of twine between clothespins. The result is a series of clothespins that I clamped in a row along her breasts, starting and ending on each nipple. When she couldn’t take my teasing any more, I tugged sharply on the twine, pulling the row of clothespins free, one after the other…. Sharp, explosive stripping of the clothespin zipper.

On the sixth day before Christmas, a test of deprivation and intensive experience of the seven senses is in order.

Moderate breakfast. Noise canceling earplugs in place. Armed with a shovel to clear 4000 square feet of a few inches of snow and ice.

Bikram yoga room in 104 degree temperature. Learning the headstand I never attempted.

Then allowed to hear again. Your breathing is music.

Do I like the dripping wax? Or do I prefer plunge into cold water?

The water I sip like wine. The dry bread like rich chocolate.

You come closer, I know. I can smell your skin. Your scent. I need to fuck.

Finally, my sight returns, and your face, lights up my soul.

On the fifth day before Christmas, I rubbed bergamot Italian oil on my eight pulse points. I become the perfect accompaniment to the Earl Grey tea. Find a pulse point, lick onto your tongue, take a sip of tea. Repeat until all eight pulse points have been found, licked, and the tea should be finished by then. Then. Then I’d be ready.

On the fourth day before Christmas, I am invited to a show.

He turns to me and gives me that evil grin of his before grabbing the cat o nine tails. He descends between her spread legs, caressing her clit with the tails. He pushes his cock head into her. Shallow thrusts. And then the deep one. He pulls out and whips the cat o nine tails brutally across her tits. He gives her cunt a teasing entry of his cock, nine times, before the one deep thrust and one whipping. Then eight shallow thrusts into her, and two deep, full thrusts and two whippings. Ahhhhhh, he wants her to experience the Taoist sets of nine. And whipping, with the cat o nine.

Genius.

I smile at him.

On the third day before Christmas, I sit before her feet. I put her feet in a peppermint infused foot bath before pressing and kneading them with my mint oiled hands and fingers.

I spread her legs before I take the first toe into my mouth, sucking it gently, whirling my tongue around it. I skim my finger nails up and down the bottom of her foot to make her squirm, then I take the second toe between my lips. I bite down on the third. Her legs shake. I lick the fourth. Her head throws back. I pluck at the pinky toe with my lips. She moans.

I look up to see her eyelids heavy and her crotch wet. I proceed with the other foot. Do you think I should slow down or speed up when I command her to cum before I get to the pinky toe?

On the second day before Christmas, I had 11 inches of hair extensions fused to my medium length hair and presented my long, silky crowning glory to my lover.

I offer first to wrap my new locks around his cock, then my mouth over the strands covering his shaft.

Most of all, I know he wants to grab a handful of my mane to mount me.

On the day before Christmas, you ask,
“what do you want?”

I answer:

A year
Twelve months
One day a month

One glimpse
A sip
Taking my hand
One memory
An arm for the tremors
An insight
Your skin on all of me
Connection, intentional
Shared quiet
The twinkle in your eyes
Light me up like the Christmas tree
Joy, we can have some