My husband and I got married last fall, and the following Christmas was our first as husband and wife. After years of family celebrations, I was anxious to spend my holiday alone, just the two of us. Cliff agreed that he would enjoy an intimate holiday and said he’d take care of the plans.

As Christmas drew closer, I began asking Cliff what our celebration held in store, but he wasn’t talking. “I want it to be a surprise,” he told me mysteriously. Of course, that only made me more curious! I tried every trick imaginable to get him to slip me a hint. Finally I said I would need to know what to pack, thinking he would have to give me some clue, hut he only replied that he would be taking care of my packing as well. I was going crazy with anticipation!

We had both taken the week after Christmas off, but we worked right up until the afternoon of Christmas Eve. Cliff was to pick me up at work and we’d start on our secret holiday from there. I was completely in the dark he hadn’t let even the slightest little hint slip. When he pulled up at the curb, he leaned out the car window and said, “Hop in!” From there we got onto the highway and I noticed we were headed for the coast. It seemed a bit wintry to be at the beach, but it was Cliff’s surprise, so I didn’t say a word.

Eventually, we did end up on the coast, in a rather deserted resort on the Outer Banks. All the stores were closed up for the winter, and there weren’t any lights on in any of the houses. It was looking dark and stormy, and I wondered why Cliff had chosen such a desolate spot. But when we pulled into the carport of a beautiful beachfront Victorian house, I smiled. While Cliff brought our bags into the inviting house, I ran around to the front of the wraparound porch. The ocean was a smoky green color and the waves were being whipped into a frenzy by the strong winds. The salt on my face felt fantastic.

Cliff startled me when he opened a door right behind me, saying, “Come into my parlor before you get swept away!”

Inside, the house was even more beautiful. There was a huge stone fireplace and, while I toured the cozy rooms, Cliff lit a fire. I opened my suitcase and found nothing but books, magazines and crossword puzzles. “Cliff,” I called out, “where are my clothes?” He met me in the hallway and hugged me tightly. “You won’t be needing any clothes, honey, he whispered. “Everything you’ll need is under the tree.” I saw that Cliff had placed a small tree, decorated with seashells and silvery icicles, right beside the fireplace. Beneath it were a few small packages. Not much of a wardrobe, I thought, but I was anxious to see what was inside.

“First, let’s eat,” Cliff suggested. Ooh! He was building the tension!

He produced a wonderful meal from the stocked pantry and, as we sat before the fire, sipping the last of our second bottle of wine, I asked if it was time to open the gifts. “Go ahead,” he said, pointing at the packages. I went for the biggest one first. It was a huge, floor length, fluffy terrycloth robe. “That’s all you’ll need clothes wise,” Cliff said, as he began to unbutton my chambray shirt. Then he stopped himself and told me to open some more presents. I could barely stand the suspense! I wanted him, not gifts! But I reached for another package. Then another. Massage oils, edible underwear, scented bath salts, all the necessary ingredients, Cliff said, for a week of erotic sensory overload, which sounded just super to me.

But before we had time to try out any of the gifts, Cliff was kissing me, unbuttoning the last buttons of my shirt and helping me out of my pants. He spread me out on the luxurious rug, right in front of the crackling fire, and spent a wildly frustrating amount of time kissing, caressing, licking and nibbling every inch of my body. I couldn’t remember ever having felt so sexy— and so turned on. Each time his attentions took him anywhere near my pussy, I raised up off the floor, nudging my pelvis in the direction of his mouth. But he made me wait. And wait.

When he finally began nuzzling my pubic hair, I thought I would climax merely from his proximity to my awaiting clitoris. When he slid his tongue, slowly, patiently, into my hot, wet folds, I almost wept. Soon, he was working my clit, licking furiously, and after such an unbelievable build up, it certainly didn’t take me long to come. I was arching up, meeting Cliff’s hungry mouth, the waves of orgasm crashing through me with the force of the sea. Once, then again, and again, until each climax blended into the next. Then, as I lay in a breathless heap on the floor, he entered me, smoothly and quickly, all in one motion, and began to slide his stiff cock slowly in and out of my swollen cunt.

We rolled on the floor, fucking like we’d been celibate for centuries, changing positions as though our bodies were one. We made love all night, dozing off while wrapped in each other’s arms, then waking and picking up where we’d left off. When the first rays of sun were clawing their way through the swift storm clouds, we were exhausted. Pulling an afghan off the couch, we snuggled together and slept till noon.

The entire week was like that, an occasional crossword puzzle punctuating extended lovemaking sessions, long massages and bath after romantic bath. It was heavenly. It was the merriest Christmas I have ever had!

— Kim L., North Carolina

Thank you for a wonderful magazine. I started reading Forum back in the mid 70′s and enjoy it just as much today. Without your magazine, I seriously doubt I would have any erotic adventures to write about and certainly would never have had the courage to discuss them. My wife and I still find the stories helpful and educational, and we would like to share one of our experienes.

Each year on Christmas Eve my wife and I like to spend some romantic time under the tree. Last year was particularly special, and just talking about it gets us both hot. I took a shower and then waited downstairs for Karen to join me. My cock was already aching with desire and my mind raced with the possibilities. It seemed to be taking her forever to get finished.

I went downstairs to wait for her and, at long last, she appeared at the top of the staircase. Karen was wearing a red and black bustier, red G string, garter belt and heels. She looked sexy as hell, and as she came down the stairs her tits almost popped out of the top of her outfit. She smiled her approval at the sight of my swollen cock rising above the waistband of my bikini underwear. I thought my balls would explode just watching her enter the living room.

As I lay on the floor, my wife began to model her outfit for me, dancing like a girl in some strip show. She bent over and slowly ran her fingers up the insides of her long legs, giving me a fantastic view of her firm ass. She moaned softly as she traced a finger between her legs and across her clit. I thought about jerking off while I watched her little teasing act, but what I really wanted was to bury my big cock up to my balls in her hot, wet cunt.

Karen lay down beside me and as we kissed deeply, I ran my hands down her back and across her bare asscheeks. I wanted to slide a finger inside her G string, coating it with her love juice, and then let her lick my finger clean. We have always loved the taste of her sweet pussy, whether it is shared in a kiss or when she cleans my cock off after we have been fucking. My wife whispered “Not yet” as I tried to part her legs for my probing finger. Then she rolled me over and sat on op of me.

Her nipples were as hard as could be and almost bursting through the top of her bustier. As I worked her firm tits free, Karen began to grind her clit harder and harder on the head of my cock. I could feel her juices seeping through the crotch of her G string and begged her to sit on my face and let me fuck her with my tongue. She was determined to tease me to the limit, and instead of giving me a taste of that hot nest, she slid down my body and lowered her mouth to my cock. As Karen’s tongue snaked its way around the tip, drops of pre come oozed out and she promptly lapped them up.

Slowly, she lowered her head until her mouth was stuffed full of lust swollen prick. Just as I was ready to flood her mouth with scalding come, she sat up and ran her fingers across the now clearly soaked crotch of her G string. She licked each of her fingers clean, teasing me some more, but then she simply could not hold back any longer. Karen has always loved the feel of my cock deep inside her hot cunt, and this is just what she aimed to get. She slid her body back up next to mine, and this time as we kissed she spread her legs apart, giving my probing fingers access to her prize.

I always enjoy the feel of her curly cunt hairs on the palm of my hand as I finger fuck her, but right away I realized there was something different. While she was in the shower, Karen had shaved her cunt completely, something she had not done in years. We both moaned in pleasure as my finger stroked her lust swollen clit. I couldn’t wait to bury my face in that hairless slit and tugged at her G string. Karen wanted to cover my face with her juice as much as I wanted her to, and she raised her ass up to help reveal her surprise” for me.

Her clit was standing out like I had never seen before, and I buried my face between her wide spread legs. She put her hands on my head to make sure I wouldn’t tease her and stop sucking on her cunt. She began to raise her ass off the floor, fucking my tongue as if it were a stiff prick. As her moans grew louder, she got wetter and wetter and covered my face with a mind blowing orgasm. No sooner had she come than she begged me to fuck her.

As I got between Karen’s firm thighs, she reached for my cock and rubbed the head across her clit. I lowered my face to kiss her and she ran her tongue across my face, tasting her own sweet juices. We kissed as she guided my aching cock between her pussy lips. I fucked her as hard and deep as I could. In no time I was pumping come deep inside her tight cunt. She came again from the feel of come gushing against the walls of her pussy, and we collapsed on the floor under the Christmas tree. It was a night neither of us will forget

— Stanley M., Ohio