Amy’s Christmas Guest Ch. 02


Amy lifted her head from my shoulder; her face was wet with tears.

“Are you OK?” I asked anxiously.

“Oh yes,” she said, “don’t worry, nothing’s wrong, just some powerful emotions. You know what, Mum and Pam will be back soon, we’d better keep up appearances.”

We got dressed — I thought to myself that after the morning’s activities we could have done with a shower, but it was pretty unlikely that my wife or her sister would have the slightest idea what we’d been doing — made some sandwiches, and went back to the jigsaw.

When Pam and Caroline returned, they were full of talk about the Christmas lights, the shops, and the gifts they’d bought, and we chatted until it started going dark. It was Christmas Eve, and Caroline had made a casserole for dinner. Then we watched TV till quite late, and went to bed. I wondered if Amy would come up with any adventures that night, but we all slept without any diversions.

The next morning, Pam and Caroline immersed themselves in preparations for the Christmas lunch, while Amy and I carried out with our jigsaw.

“When do you think we’ll get some more time alone?” she asked.

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” I said. “Just watch.”

When lunch was all in hand, Pam and Caroline came back into the living room, and my wife said, “Now, how about we all open our presents?”

I’d bought presents for Amy and Caroline of course without knowing the turn that events would take, and I made a mental note to buy something really special for my niece as soon as the shops were open again. Pam and Caroline opened their presents from me, and both glanced at each other with a broad smile.

“A pamper day — how thoughtful!” said Caroline. “And tomorrow, too — I hadn’t thought they’d open on Boxing Day.”

“Only for these special gift vouchers,” I said, managing to wink at Amy without Pam or Caroline noticing. She winked back, and I could see the anticipation in her face already.

We opened the rest of the presents, then sat down at the table and enjoyed the spread. Afterwards, we went back into the living room; I sat on one of the sofas, and Amy did a great job of playfully bouncing on the seat next to me, then virtually into my lap.

“Don’t hassle your uncle,” chided Caroline, “After a meal like that, he probably wants a nap.”

Amy pouted convincingly, then said, “You don’t mind, do you, Uncle Tim?”

“Of course not,” I smiled, and gave her a convincing hug. She settled down against me, and Caroline shrugged, turning her attention to the Bond movie on TV, that we’d all seen dozens of times before. As Sean Connery made love to the beautiful spy, I bent to Amy’s ear and said in a low voice, “I wouldn’t mind being on a slow boat to China with you right now.” She smiled, and I felt her press herself more closely into my lap, unnoticed by her mother and aunt.

When the film finished, Caroline got up and made snacks for us — nobody felt like a substantial meal after the Christmas lunch — and Amy and I ate still in our comfortable position.

“We’d better go and dig some things out for tomorrow,” said Pam, and she and Caroline went upstairs to find their swimsuits, towels, and whatever they’d need to be ‘pampered’.

As soon as they were out of the room, Amy turned to me and kissed me on the lips with a surprising urgency, to which I responded whole-heartedly. After a short while, I felt her hand on mine, and she undid just the button of her jeans and guided my hand inside the elastic of her panties. I slid my hand over her warm mound until my fingers met the wetness of her entrance and the hard nub of her clitoris. I began to touch her, doing my best to imitate the way I’d seen her touch herself; she put her hands to her breasts and stroked her nipples through her t-shirt. It wasn’t long before she was gasping into my ear and I felt her orgasm against my hand.

We both heard footsteps on the stairs, and I hastily withdrew my hand; Amy refastened her jeans, and when Pam and Caroline re-entered the room we were seated apart, both doing our best to look fascinated by the inane ‘review of the year’ show on the TV.

“Probably time we all went to bed,” suggested Caroline. “Pam and I have to be up early to start our day, and I thought you two could take a look at the sales in town.”

“Sounds great, Mum,” said Amy. “I got some vouchers for Christmas, and I can drag Uncle Tim around the clothes shops while I try stuff on.”

“I’ll probably end up in the coffee shop after about ten minutes,” I warned.

Pam nodded. “He isn’t great at shopping, so I wouldn’t get your hopes up,”

“OK,” said Amy, “but I definitely want to get some new stuff.” She got up, and did a convincing job of going up the stairs as though she was suddenly bored of the stuffy adults and their lack of enthusiasm for anything a young woman would find interesting.

The next morning, Pam and Caroline left for their pamper day just after breakfast, and Amy and I set off to walk into town to see what the sales had to offer.

“Do you Giresun Escort think it would be too conspicuous if we held hands?” asked Amy.

“I don’t have a problem with that,” I said. “If we see someone you know, you can just do the ‘my boring uncle doesn’t think I’m old enough to go off around town by myself’ act, and everyone will be convinced.”

She grinned, and took my hand. When we reached the main shopping street, she stopped. “You won’t really go and sit in the coffee shop, will you?”

“Of course not,” I grinned. “I have to tell you what I think of the clothes you’re going to try on, don’t I?”

She smiled, and pulled me into the first shop, a fashion chain with its own range of clothing for young women. We headed for the right section, and Amy grabbed an armful of garments. She walked toward the changing rooms, glanced around, and said, “Guess what? Nobody about. Come on!”

Grasping her intention, I followed her into the furthest cubicle along. Fortunately the cubicles were a generous size, and she had space to undress down to her underwear. She could tell I was enjoying looking at her, and only reluctantly began to try on the various garments she’d selected.

I gave my opinion on each, and when she reached a red dress cut low at the front, I said, “Wow — that really suits your figure. It’d do for a ball or a cocktail party. What do you think?”

She came into my arms and said, smiling, “What I think is that I’ll buy it, wear it for you, and let you take it off me as soon as possible.”

She changed back into her own clothes, and we exited the cubicle — again without being spotted. She paid for the dress, and soon we were back out in the street.

“Now,” I said, “there’s somewhere I want to take you shopping.” I took her elbow, and guided her toward an expensive jeweller’s. She turned to me, her eyes wide, but didn’t say anything.

“Watch this,” I said, as we went into the shop. We were approached by an assistant, and I caught Amy smiling secretively as the man obviously tried to work out exactly what our relationship was to one another. I put my arm lightly round Amy’s shoulders just to give him more food for thought.

“I’m looking for something special for the young lady as a late Christmas present,” I said. “Perhaps something with rubies, to go with a new dress.”

I saw Amy’s eyes widen, but the assistant simply said, “If you’ll follow me?”

He led us to a glass display case with some exquisite pieces. “Perhaps the lady would like to try this one?” he said, indicating an elegant necklace with a central ruby and several diamonds.

“Yes, let’s try it,” I said. He unlocked the case, and carefully handed me the necklace. I moved behind Amy, close enough to feel her warmth against me, and fastened the necklace around her throat. She looked in the mirror, and smiled.

“I think that shade will go perfectly with the dress,” she said. I could just tell from her voice that she was hiding her anxiety in case she was not playing the right part in the game I seemed to have started.

I played my final card. “Lovely — we’ll take it.” As the assistant moved to the counter to find a box for the necklace and wrap it, Amy’s face was a picture.

“Are you serious?” she said when the assistant was out of earshot, smiling and shocked and pleased all at once.

“Absolutely,” I replied. “We can tell your mother it’s costume jewellery, but we’ll know.”

“But the price!” she said.

I looked straight into her eyes, and said carefully, “I promise not to spoil you, but if you’re OK with me getting you one special treat this time around, I’d be really grateful.”

She nodded, not speaking. The assistant returned, and said, “If you’ll follow me, sir.” I went with him to the discreet area of the shop where the till was situated, and gave him my credit card to swipe. Then he handed over my purchase in a small carrier bag with the shop’s logo, and I rejoined Amy.

Back on the street, she said, “I thought it would be you who would give up first, but I’m a little overwhelmed with shopping already.”

I chuckled. “Just one more stop, then we can go back.”

I led her to a shop which had just recently opened in the town, specialising in lingerie and sexy nightwear. I stopped outside the door, and said, “I won’t come in this time — surprise me.”

Amy grinned, and disappeared into the shop. She reappeared a short while later with several bags.

“That didn’t take long,” I said.

“I’ve looked through their catalogue before,” she said, “and I knew exactly what I would choose if I ever had reason to wear such nice things. Now I have a very good reason.”

We walked back to the house, and as soon as she closed the door behind us, Amy said, “Can I?”

I knew exactly what she meant without having to wait for an explanation, and I nodded. She grabbed the bags and walked up the stairs, closing the door of her room behind her.

I went through to the living room and sat on the sofa, picking up a glossy Giresun Escort Bayan magazine to keep me occupied while I waited. It seemed an age before I heard Amy’s voice as she walked down the stairs.

“You have to close your eyes,” she said. I obeyed, and heard her footsteps enter the room, come towards me, then stop.

“You can open them now,” she said.

She stood there in high heels, stockings, and the red dress. Whatever kind of underwear she’d selected, it showed off her breasts to even better advantage in the low-cut dress. I glanced at her throat, then saw she carried the velvet box from the jeweller’s in her hand.

“I wanted you to put it on me like you did before. I want you to do that every time I wear it for you,” she said.

I complied, opening the box and moving behind her to clasp the necklace round her throat. Then I put my arms round her waist, and she leaned back into me. I was almost breathless with her elegance and beauty, and in that feeling even forgot for the long moments I held her, just how much I desired and wanted her.

I put my feelings into words. “Amy, you’re beautiful. Even if we hadn’t shared everything we have the last couple of days, I would be overwhelmed seeing you like this.”

She turned to me, and put her hands over my shoulders. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you, Tim, it really helps me that I know someone can see me that way.”

She was silent for a moment, then said, grinning, “But don’t think that will let you get away without doing what I made you promise to.”

I must have looked puzzled, because she laughed, suddenly looking a lot more like the young woman she was, instead of the elegant beauty I now knew she could also be.

“You have to take the dress off me too, silly,” she reminded.

I nodded. “Do you want to leave the necklace on?” I asked.

“That would be sexy,” she smiled. “Yes, please.”

I moved behind her again and held her for a moment, then slowly pulled down the long zip at the back of the dress. I carefully eased the dress off her shoulders, and it fell in a pool at her feet. She stepped out of it, and I picked it up and draped it over the back of a chair. She turned to face me, and I appreciated just how well her bra held her breasts, pushing them up and together.

She followed my gaze. “Well worth the money,” she smiled, “You can see why women go for these.”

“And why men like it when women wear them,” I agreed.

“But they like it better when women take them off,” she teased. She reached behind her with both hands and unfastened the clasp of the bra, revealing her breasts. Her nipples were already hard with excitement, and I couldn’t help bending my head toward them and kissing them.

As I suckled her, she reached for the elastic of her panties, and I helped her push them down and step out of them, leaving her only in suspender belt and stockings, and the ruby necklace.

“Now,” she said, “I think it’s time for a bit of a game again. Pretend I’ve been bad and need to be punished.”

I remembered back to the incident in the kitchen with Caroline, and lightly smacked Amy on her bottom with the palm of my hand. She drew her breath in sharply, and I repeated the slap on the other cheek. She moved so she was standing with her legs further apart, and I continued the gentle slaps. She put her hands on her breasts and began to touch and squeeze her nipples.

I paused for a moment to shed my own clothes, then moved up close behind her so that she could feel my erection against her, again using my hand on her bottom so that it reddened slightly.

“Ohhhh,” she moaned, “I want you in me.” She leaned forward, holding onto the back of the sofa, giving me complete access to her from behind.

I pressed the tip of my erection against her wet entrance, then slid inside her. I felt the lace of her suspender belt against my stomach, and slid my hands over her stockings. Then I started to thrust deeply into her and withdraw. I moved my hands over her breasts and stomach, and between her legs to pleasure her clitoris. As I began to thrust more insistently, she matched my movements with backward thrusts of her hips, and as I gave a final groan and spurted into her, I felt her body shake and her muscles tense around me as she simultaneously orgasmed.

I carefully withdrew from her, and she turned to face me, the stones in her necklace sparkling in the light reflecting from the snow outside. I took her in my arms, marvelling that again I had experienced such intimacy with this beautiful young woman.

With a look almost of regret, she picked up the red dress and took it upstairs to hang safely in her wardrobe. I followed her up, and helped her unclasp the necklace and put it safely back in its velvet box and then in the back of her underwear drawer. She pulled on jeans and t-shirt, and I retrieved my own clothes and dressed.

We managed a scratch lunch of leftover turkey and vegetables heated in the microwave. When Escort Giresun we had finished eating, Amy said, “We still have all afternoon before they get back — what would you like to do?”

I thought for a moment, then said, “You bought more than one set of things from that last shop, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” replied Amy with a smile.

“Well, how about you model them for me, and for each set, make up a fantasy about who you are and what you’d like to do while you’re wearing them?”

Amy’s eyes lit up, and she said, “I have lots of ideas already — I’ll go up and get all the things, and I can do quick changes in the hall and come into the living room to show you.”

She went upstairs, and returned with the bags. I settled down on the sofa in the living room and waited while she went out into the hall to put on her first outfit.

She entered the room, and I was immediately transported in my mind to every old war film I’d ever seen. Her outfit was classic 1940’s, a bullet bra and a panty girdle with a wide garter belt and nylons. Even her pose was spot on for a photograph of a Forces sweetheart.

“Wow, that’s so good it’s almost scary,” I said. “So what’s your fantasy for this one?”

“So, he’s a Spitfire pilot,” she began, “and I’m a girl from the village near the airfield, who he’s met at one of the dances organised by the social committee. I’m not supposed to know, but someone has let slip that his squadron has been tasked with a dangerous mission in the next few days, and I’m working out a way we can sleep together before he goes, in case he don’t come back.”

“So how are you going to manage it?”

“Well,” she continued, “there’s another dance tonight, and I’m hoping for a raid warning so I can arrange to sneak off with him — I’ve arranged for friends in the two shelters both to say I’m in the other one.”

“And when you get away, what then?”

“I take him to the barn by the farmhouse down the road, and we climb up into the hayloft. I’m wearing my uniform — I’ve volunteered for the WAAF so I can be closer to him — and he undoes the buttons of my jacket and takes it off, then starts on the buttons of my blouse. I put my hand on his and say, ‘Kiss me first’, and he puts his arms around me and we kiss passionately. Then I let him carry on undoing my blouse, and he slips it off my shoulders. Then he unfastens my skirt and takes it off. So I’m standing there in my undergarments, looking just like I do now.”

“Do you undress him?”

“No, I just stand there in this pose and say, ‘Take your clothes off’. So he does, and I come towards him, take his hand and put it on my mound, then close my eyes and turn my face upwards. He kisses me again, and starts to run his fingers over the damp gusset of my panties. Then he pulls them down, leaving me in bra and stockings.

“I lie on my back on the hay, and he positions himself between my legs and enters me with a thrust. I cry out slightly — it’s my first time — and he looks anxiously into my face. ‘It’s alright’, I say, ‘keep going’. So he starts to thrust again, and all too soon he groans and I feel him twitching inside me as he spends himself. We don’t have much time to lie there, because the all-clear sounds, and we hurriedly get dressed and go back to the dance, hoping the alibi we’ve arranged doesn’t fall apart.”

“What happens then?”

“He goes off on his mission, and doesn’t come back, and a few days later I see in the newspaper that he was killed in action, shot down over the channel. And in another two weeks, I realise that I’ve missed my period, and most likely I’m carrying his baby.”

I thought for a moment. “Are you frightened?”

“Not really, more sad, but I realise I need to find a way to deal with the situation.”

She smiled, a little wistfully, and said, “I think it’s time for my next change.”

She went out into the hall, and I heard rustling, then after a short while she returned. This time her outfit was more modern-looking, 1950’s, and silk not cotton, with matching deep panties and conical bra. Her silk stockings were sheer, with lacy tops.

“I detect an American influence,” I said, throwing her a quizzical look.

“Well, when I realise I’m ‘in trouble’, I have to find a man pretty sharpish, and the most obvious place is the American airbase. Those poor boys are away from home for the first time, thousands of miles away from their mothers and sisters, so they’re grateful for any female company.”

“Isn’t that a bit unfair?”

“Lots of girls did it, pregnant or not, and there were plenty of happy marriages where the guy came back from the US for his girl when he was demobbed.”

“Fair enough. So tell me, how do you catch your man?”

“A week or so later, there’s another dance, and the pilots from the American base are invited. I turn up wearing my most attractive dress, and manage to get into conversation with a group of the pilots without seeming too forward. One of them obviously takes a shine to me, and while his friends are talking, leans over and says, ‘I’m going outside for a smoke. Want one?’. I nod, and we go out behind the dance hall. He gives me a cigarette, and our hands touch — I know he did it deliberately — as he lights it for me. Then he lights his own smoke and we stand side by side, talking.”

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