Archive-name: SpecMome/meryxmas.txt
Archive-author: 
Archive-title: Merry Christmas, Baby


"Thank you for the birthday presents. They were wonderful. And it was 
fun." With that, Amy closed her eyes and leaned to me. Our lips met, 
tongues touching for the briefest of moments. I leaned forward, trying 
to prolong the contact as she pulled back slowly. Amy gave me another 
gentle kiss, leaving just a hint of her wonderful flavor on the tip of 
my tongue. "Good night. See you soon.", she said, climbing into her 
car. She left me standing with a false smile on my face, and forbidden 
thoughts struggling to reach my consciousness. Friends? No, more. 
Lovers? No, considerably less, my hopes and efforts notwithstanding.

   I had just held a private (just the two of us) birthday celebration 
for her. We had watched, through the magic of video tape, "How the 
Grinch Stole Christmas" (her favorite). I had hidden several small 
gifts through my place and sent her on a treasure hunt, complete with 
obscure, but decipherable clues. We talked a lot as we always seem to. 
Communication is rarely a problem between us. The events of the fairly 
recent past that had threatened our relationship seemed all but 
forgotten.

   Due to a strange set of circumstances, we had slept together in my 
bed for a week as just friends about a month before her birthday. We 
spent more time in each other's company than ever before, essentially 
living together. Her roommate hadn't paid their electric bill, and 
their all-electric warehouse loft got mighty cold and dark as fall had 
turned nasty one weekend. She had stayed over in order to give me a 
ride to the airport at six the next morning, and I had left her the 
keys. This also happened to be the night before her electricity got 
turned off. Of course, when she found out that her place was cold and 
dark, she returned to mine while I was away.

   She picked me up from the airport when I returned, and apologized 
for staying while I was away. No big deal. After I had finished 
telling her about my trip, and cleaning up, I asked her out to dinner, 
since I didn't want to cook and I hate eating out alone. The trouble 
began during dinner when she began to talk about her week. "I don't 
know if I should tell you this..." I waited patiently. Amy does that a 
lot. Translation: I'm going to tell you about this man I went out 
with, because you're my _friend_. Then she paused, lowering her eyes. 
"You know, there's this guy I met a couple weeks ago...", and she 
stopped.

   I waited for her to finish establishing the line between us. Early 
on in our friendship, we had crossed that line on a couple of 
occasions, much to her current anxiety. Subsequent discussions 
revealed that while she had no regrets ("I was feeling very close to 
you..."), she worried about my current interpretations and plans. "OK, 
I met James a couple of weeks ago, and we went out. I had fun, he was 
pretty cool, and so I went out with him again..." Amy gingerly dragged 
out the last word, watching me for a sign of despair. I stayed calm. 
"Well, the next time we went out, that second time, he gave me this." 
She pulled at the heart-shaped cameo pendant attached to a gold chain 
that she was wearing. It had diamonds around the perimeter. "They're 
real. I checked.", she said, causing my eyes to bulge and my heart to 
sink slowly.

   Amy quickly resumed her story to prevent me from committing suicide 
with a steak knife. She explained how flattered she had been, but how 
she had tried to explain to the guy that it was only two dates, and 
she wasn't thinking about any long-term commitments. I listened, 
externally impassive, heart somewhere around my knees. I heard what 
she was saying, however, which was the cause of my discomfort. 
Translation: "See, you're not the only guy who's nice to me and does 
stuff for me and finds me attractive." Fine, it's nothing new. 
Unfortunately, later that evening Amy dropped the bomb. "Can I stay 
here until I have heat and light in my place? It's so nice and warm 
here. I trust you." It was definitely going to be an uncomfortable 
night. I only have one bed; big enough for two, but she trusted me to 
sleep with her and keep my body to myself. I should have said no, but 
one look into those gorgeous bright blue eyes stunned my common sense 
into silence.

   The night turned into seven, but true to our friendship, I never 
crossed the line once. I did wake up in compromising positions on a 
couple of occasions, however. While Amy may have been safe from my 
conscious actions, my unfettered subconscious left me vulnerable. Amy 
had rolled over one night, and I immediately woke up. Seems she had 
rolled on top of something. I spent a good while trying to extricate 
myself without waking her, and slept the rest of the week with my back 
to her.

   She moved out, because her roommate finally paid the bill. She 
thanked me with a gentle kiss, and promised that she would go to a 
party I had been invited to while she was staying at my place. She 
kept her promise, but halfway through the night she said "Evil." For 
no apparent reason. I asked her what she meant, but she said she 
didn't want to elaborate. Translation: "You're bugging me, and I wish 
you weren't here." The tension built, and as we left, she finally 
brought up the subject. "I have to say something. I'm beginning to 
feel obligated and I don't like that. I know what's on your mind, and 
it really hampered my evening."

   "Well I'm _sorry_,", I replied, voice dripping with not-quite-yet-
malice, "but you look very attractive tonight. I've been in close 
contact with you for a long time, and I think I have every right to 
want you. Obviously you meet lots of men that want you, like James. Do 
you feel -- _obligated_ -- to them?", I asked innocently. My question 
may have been posed with innocence, but Amy understood the sentiment 
behind it, and took offense. We argued in the car, my false apologies 
ringing against her fallacious arguments. I slept on the floor that 
night, because she was too drunk to drive home. For the first time all 
night I got her to do something that I wanted her to. She crawled into 
my bed, mumbled, "Aren't you going to bed?", and fell asleep.

   Anyway, we didn't see each other for a few weeks after that, but 
she would still call me and we would talk in generalities, avoiding 
the issue between us. As the days went on, it became less and less of 
an issue. Her birthday approached, and we talked briefly about it. Amy 
mentioned that she didn't know what she was going to do for it, since 
it wasn't on a weekend, and everybody she knew seemed busy. I heard 
the tinge of depression in her voice; and being the close friend that 
I was, resolved to do something about it. I came up with the treasure 
hunt idea, and invited her over. Which brings me to the present.

   I needed another early morning ride, to the train station this time 
for my Christmas trip to visit family. Taxi service is expensive, and 
not necessarily reliable at that time of the day. All of my friends 
had to work that day, because it was Monday. All of them except Amy. 
She actually asked how I was going to get to the station, then 
cheerfully volunteered. "I can spend the night, and take you down 
there. I'll even watch your apartment while you're gone, because I 
still have the spare keys. That way, you don't need to go through the 
hassle of getting a cab that early." I accepted her generous offer 
(anybody willing to get up at five for that reason is generous), and 
waited impatiently for the departure day.

   She called me the Saturday before I was to leave. "Ummm, I'm not 
eager about getting up that early on Monday.", she said, abruptly 
bringing business into the discussion. I groaned inwardly. Looks like 
I'll be getting up and calling a cab at four in the morning. "What 
say...", Amy started over the phone, "What say we just go out and stay 
up. We can start the night at the club across the street from you and 
go from there?" That made a lot of sense, actually, because Amy was a 
night person in the truest sense of the word. I could sleep on the 
train, and she would just go to bed a little later than usual for her. 
I agreed.

   Sunday evening rolled around. I was all packed and ready to go, but 
I hadn't heard from Amy all day. Her roommate said that she hadn't 
been home since early that morning, and I wondered if she had spaced 
out our most recent plan. The phone rang at nine-thirty. "Hi. I'm 
sorry, but I've been running around all day, and I'm late as usual.", 
Amy explained, slightly out-of-breath. "Why don't I meet you at the 
club and we can wing it from there after they close at midnight. OK?" 
Relieved at hearing her voice, I was happy to accommodate her. I went 
over to the small basement jazz club where the Sunday night session 
was in full swing. The patrons, however, weren't. There were many 
empty tables, so I got one and settled in with a drink. When the band 
took a break at quarter after ten, I wasn't worried. However, they 
started a half-hour later, and Amy still was nowhere to be found. Her 
phone was busy, so I couldn't get in touch with her. At eleven, the 
waitress came over and said that they had a phone call for me. "I'm 
sorry. I got tied up and my plans have changed, but I'll meet you at 
your place. I'm on my way over now." I wondered if I should just go 
home and go to bed so I could call the cab at four in the morning. 
Surprises were the last thing I needed.

   I tried calling Amy back to tell her to forget it, but the line was 
busy again, so I went home. I opened my door, and saw Amy sitting 
calmly at my table. I certainly hadn't expected her to be at my place 
already. She looked at me with amusement. "How -- how did you get here 
so fast?", I stuttered in shock.

   She stood up. "Oh, I called from this phone. I was already here."

   "Why didn't you come over? I was waiting for you.", I pressed, 
still in shock.

   Amy sauntered over to me lazily, smiling. She put her arms on my 
shoulders. I realized just then that she was made up, but not dressed 
up. Amy has red hair and freckles, and is attractive. She isn't 
gorgeous or anything, but when she dresses up and really spends time 
putting on her face, she can be very beautiful. Her full body isn't 
displeasing, and she's very soft. Amy giggled. "I haven't given you 
your Christmas kiss yet." She leaned forward and closed her eyes. Our 
lips met again, but her tongue pushed into my mouth and she opened 
hers fully. I responded. "Merry...", Amy said before pulling me closer 
and kissing me harder. "Christmas...", she said, a little bit out-of-
breath, pulling her head back. Her hands still rested gently around my 
neck  Her eyes closed again, and we grabbed each other tightly this 
time. There was much more than a hint of her taste in my mouth and a 
pressure beginning to build. I looked at her eyes and they were half-
open. Amy had her bedroom eyes on.

   "Amy?", I asked, voice almost a whisper. "Why?"

   She pulled away and sat down. "It's a unique gift, and it shows how 
much I care about you. And it's something you really, really want." 
The smoky look in the eyes disappeared, replaced by bright blue 
intensity. "You know my situation, and how I feel. You can't _have_ 
me, no man can. But would you like to share me for Christmas? Be 
honest with me -- _and yourself_." Her eyelids drooped again 

   "You know the answer, or else you wouldn't have gone through the 
trouble of setting this up."

   "I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine." Amy 
smiled, and held out her hand. I kissed it, and she let me lead her to 
the bedroom. We were joined at the mouth as soon as we sat down on the 
bed. "Let me undress you first.", Amy panted. She pulled my clothes 
off quickly, yet carefully. I was naked before her and we kissed some 
more. She fondled me gently as I savored her mouth and tongue. "Do you 
want to undress me, or should I undress for you?" It took me a while 
to remove her sweater and pants, because I couldn't get enough of her 
kisses.

   When I undid her bra, Amy pulled my head to her chest. She stroked 
my hair while I used my tongue to stroke her breasts. "Ohhh, forrr-
playyyy...", she sighed. We were kneeling on the bed facing each 
other, and my hands roamed along her torso, brushing her warm, soft, 
skin as they traveled. Amy's breathing became deeper. I started to lie 
down on my side while she was still kneeling, one hand sliding across 
her chest, my mouth still active at her navel. Amy sat and pulled off 
her panties. "You like the way I taste, don't you?", she purred 
suggestively.

   If there was one thing I could put Amy on the ceiling with, it was 
oral sex. She had said she didn't really get off on it our first time 
together. Her body had shown her to be a liar. My tongue gently 
started between her legs, and I just touched her with the tip. The 
circles I described grew smaller, then larger, and I increased the 
pressure. Amy's hips were moving in response to my efforts, and I 
tasted her inner sweetness before I tickled her clitoris. A whimpering 
grunt (?) told me that I was close. Slowly I pushed my fingers into 
Amy, who tugged at them from inside. "Yess... Oh, yesss...", she 
sighed, because she knew what was coming.

   Amy. She grunted as I batted at her G-spot, tapping, rubbing, 
grinding my fingers within. My tongue and head fought to stay at her 
clit. Amy's body jerked and wrenched around on the bed, and her liquid 
euphoria coated my hands and lips. She grabbed at my head and hair. I 
had told Amy on many occasions how wonderful her whole body tasted, 
and I was being given as much of that particular treat as I could 
handle. And it's much softer than a fruitcake. She cooed and sighed as 
she descended from orgasm's peak. Amy sat up and put my fingers in her 
mouth, sucking her juices from them, bedroom eyes on fire. She stuck 
my fingers back in my mouth and we kissed around them.

   Her hands stroked my chest. She ran them up and down the front of 
my body touching to stimulate, to tease. A gentle push and I sat in 
front of her, legs spread. Amy's red hair swirled in my lap. My eyes 
fluttered and a chill roared down my spine. She regarded me 
devilishly. Her oral ministrations didn't last very long, and I was 
disappointed. Not for long. "Move back to the top of the bed.", she 
whispered. Amy knelt over my lap when I got there, and kissed me as we 
started to grind at each other. Our arms wrapped around each other, we 
could only move back and forth. There was never much separation 
between our bodies. We breathed in gulps and gasps, noises in our 
throats. The eyes communicated mutual desire and pleasure, the lips 
and tongues adding to the closeness.

   My movement became uncontrolled, quiet grunts stilled by Amy's 
mouth and driving tongue. She languidly continued her easy thrusts and 
we stroked each other's bodies. For once there was silence between us. 
We both slid onto the bed, temporarily exhausted. Kissing took up some 
time, then Amy said, "That was Merry."

   "Merry what?", I whispered, kissing her on the forehead.

   "You still haven't gotten to Christmas yet," Amy replied, throaty 
voice joining the still-smoldering bedroom eyes. "You can't go to 
sleep now. I promised you we'd stay up all night..." She drove her 
mouth against mine, and our tongues dueled passionately. "And then 
there's Baby. You know, Merry Christmas, Baby? B.B. King?" she asked 
after a pause to catch her breath. I nodded, blues being one of the 
great things we had in common. Amy sighed. "By then, we'll just make 
it to your train in time, or I'll have to drive you to Chicago." She 
turned the light out and pounced on me.
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