As has become my tradition for several years, I’m spending the Christmas break at a rental house on the coast with some very dear friends. We pass the time enjoying the stunning view of the ocean waves rolling in, listening to music, cooking ridiculously good food, hiking, soaking in the hot tub, experimenting at the massage table. Most of all, there is an abundance of love and a complete lack of drama or stress.
Of course, one of the people in attendance is a beloved girlfriend. Thus there has been a copious amount of sex. Slow, languid sex; eager, enthusiastic sex; sex in the bright sunlight, bending her over so she can watch the ocean waves break and crash while I plunge into her repeatedly; sex in the middle of the night, in the dark, still quiet, face-to-face, while clutching tightly and kissing deeply.
My only regret (and it is a tiny thing compared to the abundance of awesomeness) is that the friends are not “that kind” of friends. The girlfriend and I are very considerate about keeping our enthusiasm private and the most salacious thing we do in front of each other is walk around in nothing more than a shirt and pleasantly snug underwear.
In an ideal world, I’d have that ideal magical combination; friends that I love enough to be fully relaxed and open with, and friends who are uninhibited and lusty enough to be sexual in front of. I’m picturing the two women sitting on the couch with their legs spread, holding hands, whilst enthusiastic attendants sit on the floor and lazily suck and lap at their pussies. I want to be fucking my girl on a sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace, get up briefly to take some photos from across the room of another couple riding together in blissful pleasure, and then return to the open thighs awaiting me. I want a four-hand massage to seamlessly segue to four-hand petting, with one hand in her pussy, one on her clit, one pinching a nipple, and another gently pulling hair.
As I say, this is more of an ideal than a complaint. Off-hand, I can’t recall having a better Christmas (and I’ve had some really amazing Christmases in my time). But that doesn’t mean I can’t fantasize about something even better.