Our Tree

Where, oh where had her kids gotten that from?

It was a silly question, really, as Andrea stood in the doorway of her own home, listening to the ABBA sound blasting from the radio in the kitchen. The radio had been a gift two years ago from her oldest, meaning that her husband had paid for whatever it was that Sarah had picked out at the store. The girl was only seven three weeks ago, and by no means able to finance a gift on her on. But the thought was appreciated, and she let her daughter know that. Until moments like this.

Her in-laws were ABBA fans, apparently not in receipt of the memo notifying the rest of the world of the end of the era. Donald and Regina Williams were century members of the ABBA fan club, an organization that Andrea had been totally unaware of until going to her at-the-time boyfriends' house for the first time during the summer of their junior year in college.

And so her youngest two, five year old Andrew and four year old Michelle had somehow acquired the taste from their grandparents, making the music a constant play companion to the munchkins, and today was no different. Smiling she walked into the kitchen, kissing the back of her husbands neck. "Hey baby."

Donald Junior, or simply DJ to his friends, did not disappoint. Spinning he took his wife into his arms, leaning down to kiss her. But to do so she had to bite the peanut butter cookie hanging out of his mouth first, which she gladly did. DJ was a fire hazard if he tried to cook dinner and even macaroni & cheese was sure to set of a fire detector. But give the man an oven, a bowl, and two eggs and he would give you a cake fit for a king. Or a queen, as he liked to tell her with that glint in his eyes.

His touch was electric, it always was to her. DJ had first laid eyes on her shortly before spring break of their sophomore year, spotting her coming out of class as he was going in. Through three degrees of separation he had gotten a mutual friend in her sorority to introduce them, showing up on their first date with a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. He had since learned that peanut butter was her favorite, but that night her sorority sisters had made her swear to marry him, or at least date for the foreseeable future to ensure a lasting supply of fat-pills.

But his baking ability was only a small detail of her attraction to him. He was extremely easy on the eye, with his deep black hair that seemed to just shine naturally, and matched his smoldering dark eyes perfectly. His skin had that deep tan that always, even in the dead of winter in Colorado, looked like he had just gotten of the plane from Italy or Greece. A swimmer all through high school and college, he had broad shoulders to scoop her up with, strong arms to envelop her in, and an incredibly hot ass for her to droll over whenever he was walking away from her. Yes, he was the perfect man for her, and now her husband of eight years.

"I see you played hooky from work again?" Taking the rest of the cookie out of his mouth, she slowly chewed it, savoring the taste. The recipe was top secret, but over the years of them being together he had perfected it, and there was nothing better out there, nowhere.

"I can do that, you know. I'm the boss." He grinned, kissing her on the forehead. "And besides, the kids were bored over at STALAG 14." This was his name for the school that took what seemed like an arm and a leg of their annual income in return for allowing their three holy terrors to roam its hallways during the five days of the work week. And of course he could leave work whenever he wanted to; he owned the small IT business. And since most of his work was contract for the government, this time of year was slow with work, but fat with money as the new budget year really got rolling and Congress doles out pork.

"I wish you would not call it that." She really did not care, not at this age. Once the little ones figured out what a STALAG was, that might be different. And besides, his skipping work held promises. "So, I guess you didn't start dinner, huh?" She grinned at him, the look on his face not amused. But it did not stop him from doing his best imitation of the dancing queen, much to the delight of Andrew and Michelle, who were dancing in their chairs, faces and hands covered in food coloring and icing, the cookies they were supposed to be decorating amazingly bare. No surprise there.

Leaning against the counter, she could not help but move with the beat coming out of the radio as her husband sang along with the music, seemingly having a seizure all over the kitchen. It was a well known fact amongst their friends and family that DJ had somehow not gotten the shame gene and that embarrassment was a foreign concept to him. So in the confines of their kitchen, he had absolutely no inhibition. Drinking not required for this one, she thought again, smiling to herself as she walked down the hallway to the master suite of the home.

Pushing open the door to her bedroom, her breath caught in her throat. DJ must have taken of from work a lot earlier then she thought.

Ever since Sarah had gotten old enough to understand the principal of tearing wrapping paper from gifts it had been a tradition that mommy and daddy have their own tree. Not massive monument to consumerism like the one in the living room with all its ten feet of tree glory, but a small one, about three or four feet tall. It was DJ's job to acquire this tree at an undisclosed time, sneak it into the house, and decorate it. And he did not disappoint.

Closing the door, she kicked off her shoes and walked over to short fern. He had placed it on a stand to make room for the presents underneath, but it was still not as tall as the closet it sat next to, which had somehow become her measuring stick. There were several presents already wrapped under the tree, and she had to fight the temptation to pick one up and shake it. She was like a kid that way.

"You like it?" DJ had come up silently behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her neck. He smelled of flour and peanut butter, smelled of tree sap and evergreen, smelled of sweat and man. God, she loved this man.

"I love it baby. Thank you so much."

"Anything for my queen." Again he kissed the base of her neck, burying his nose in her hair. Andrea was his queen, and it was something he never forgot. He had tripped over his own feet the day he had first seen her. It had not taken long to get her name and number, and not much longer to get an introduction through a mutual friend. His lust bored on obsession by that point, and that first date did nothing to alleviate that tension. Her clear laughter, bright green cat like eyes, and long eyelashes never let him go. Her skin, a deep bronze flavor in the summer, with a lighter shade, like white gold, in the winter, it gave evidence to her south Florida background. Her blond hair was like spun gold, and when he read his kids the story of Rapunzel, he always talked of mommy's hair.

It was matched by a body that his hands could never stop touching. He had restrained himself early in their relationship, but once she made it clear it was okay to violate her personal space on a regular basis, he could not keep them to himself. She was naturally curvy, with a full bosom that had only gotten better with children and breast feeding, a flat stomach she worked hard at the Y to maintain, and shapely long legs made for his caress. She was his personal snow bunny, the women he had wet dreams over, the mother of his children, the love of his life.

"You are so good to me." Leaning into him, she closed her eyes, his arms enveloping her in a warm embrace, his hot breath on the back of her neck making her hairs stand on end. He always made her wet with his amazing loving ways, and today was no different she realized as she squeezed her legs.

"I have ulterior motives." Smiling to himself he pushed his hips into her, and she felt his hardness, moaning despite herself. "Hold still."

His hands were swift, yet felt like they were moving slow and deliberate. With one hand caressing her breasts, the other reached down and pulled her skirt up around her waist. She snuggled back into him, bracing her hands on the closet to one side of the tree, and the dresser drawer on the other.

"You smell so good. Look so good..." His voice was hot and heavy in her ear, making her weak in the knees. His arm wrapped tighter around her, holding her, and he bit her skin lightly, making it burn.

His fingers slipped into her thong, and then they were at her wetness. "Somebody was expecting me?"

"Oh god yes!" She did a little shimmy with her ass, rubbing against his hard cock. He moaned out, squeezing her tighter to him. His lips continued to caress her skin, and then he was fucking her with two fingers, making the world blurry.

She did not know, even after all these years, where he had learned to do this. Was it a swimmer thing? An ex-girlfriend? Something he had read in a magazine or book? She did not really even care at this point; more than secure in her love and marriage to the man of her dreams. All she really knew that he could use to fingers to do amazing things to her, and it never failed to make her rocket to the top.

Today was no different, as he clutched her to himself, his fingers frigging her at an ever increasing pace. He would tease her clit out from under its hood before circling it with his fingers, making her drench herself in no time. Her breathing was coming in fast gasps now as she grabbed on tighter to her supports, losing herself in the torrent of emotions and pleasures he provided her with.

"Oh...god yes...oh...oh...oh...yes, yes, yes! Don't stop...please...please...." Her breath caught in her throat as she sunk backwards against him, her eyes open yet unfocused, the orgasm washing over her like a wave breaking on a reef. She almost forgot to breathe, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed him, his fingers never abandoning his pursuit.

"You like that, my little sugarplum?" Sugarplum was his name for her, ever since he had seen a childhood video of her during a visit to her parents' house, one that featured her in the role of the sugarplum fairy in her elementary school play. Not exactly her most glamorous role in a life filled with high school and college drama (the theatrical kind) and plays, but somehow his favorite.

"Oh, and you know it daddy! Fuck me good!" She knew he would, her voice strained as another orgasm slammed into her, knowing the stiff prick poking her in the back would not be denied. Pushing up onto her toes she rubbed her ass against his cock, hearing him moan again.

"You got it darling." His hand stopped for just a second, pushing down her thong. She pulled a foot up to assist in the task once he got it past her knee, undoing her blouse with one hand. His weight was on her as he helped undress her, and then she heard his zipper, feeling his thick shaft slapping her in the back, dragging through the crack of her ass. That had been her present to him two Christmas seasons ago, but not right now. He dipped down low, bending in the knee and jammed upwards.

Had it not been for his hand covering her mouth at that exact moment her scream would have echoed throughout the house. Andrea had not been a virgin when they meet, but out of the five men who had known her intimately, none had the equipment that DJ lugged around with him, and none knew how to use it. He was by no means record breaking, as she guessed him at just shy of eight or so inches, with corresponding thickness. That was really what got her off, the way his thick cock filled her, opening her lips up and spreading her little pussy out to accommodate his size.

Maybe he just said it, but she really liked believing him when he told her that she was still damn tight after three kids. She worked hard at that, with all the exercises one could find in books and on the internet, and so when he entered her she always squeezed down with all her might, making him groan in a long, low rumble that came from deep within his chest cavity, signifying the pleasure she gave him.

He started thrusting into her in earnest, each time he slammed forward seemingly lifting her off her feet as he bit her neck, taking and dominating her. She gripped her supports even tighter, trying to breathe, trying to hold on for dear life as she got fucked good and hard.

"Ugh...oh...damn baby...that's it...fuck your little sugarplum..."

"Tell me how much you like it baby!" Before Andrea, he had not been much for pillow talk. It seemed...dirty. And not in a good way, either. While he always somebody who wanted to pleasure his partner, there was no need to go overboard. But that all changed when she came into his bed. It was just so natural with her, something that seemed to just happen, and that made each and every encounter that much hotter.

"God, you know I love to feel your big cock slamming into my little pussy! Nothing feels as good as my stud of a husband beating the shit out of my baby maker with that big baseball bat!"

She gasped when he made her cum again, his deep strokes hitting her in just the right way. He was a student of her body, and he knew it like the back of his hand, knew when to speed up, when to slow down, which angle he needed to be. He could read the signs like writing on the wall, and there was no fooling him as to what she needed.

His hands grasped her tits and he moved back a bit, making her lean forward more. Rolling and pinching her nipples, the more aggressive posture allowed him to pound into her even faster, his hips smacking into her ass, balls slapping up at her, the obscene noises filling the room as flesh meet flesh and he filled her with himself.

"Oh baby, oh baby! Damn you feel good!" Inhaling her scent he took a hold of her hair with one hand, the other on her waist to allow him better control of their motions, fucking her good now.

"You want me to suck your cock?"

It was not so much a question as a statement to let him know what was about to happen. He barely had time to moan out before she dropped to her knees, his hand guiding her head to his glistening shaft. She inhaled him in one swoop, grabbing his hips and sucking him in as far as he would go.

DJ moaned out loud, his eyes closed as she took him to heaven. His wife had a natural talent for sucking dick, and one he was more then appreciative of. What was better then coming home and giving your lady some loving, and having her finish you off with those luscious lips wrapped around your pole?

Opening his eyes he looked down at her, to see her smiling up at him. Andrea worked for the city of Denver, and did so dressed very professionally and made up to match the look. This included his favorite deep red lipstick, which was smearing itself all over his dick as she slid up and down his hard member. Her gag reflex had gone on vacation somewhere around her twenty first birthday, and never came back, and she deep throated him with abandon. Few people treat the porno "Deep throat" as a motivational video, but it was for her, and he thanked his lucky star for that.

Swallowing him over and over, she slid her lips to the head, sucking it and flicking it with her tongue. Grasping his shaft with her hand she began to squeeze and stroke him, his breath catching as she fondled his balls.

"You do that so well..." His voice was a raspy whisper, and she knew he was close. Pulling her lips off she grinned up at him, flicking her tongue at the love of her life.

"Only for you."

"I know baby. I love you." He was softly smiling at her, running one hand through her silky soft hair.

"I love you too DJ. Merry Christmas baby." She sucked him back in with one swift pull, swallowing the head of his cock twice over, sucking on it as if her life depended on it. He cried out, pushing himself deeper into her throat before he exploded rope after rope of hot cum shooting into her mouth.

She squealed with delight, sucking on him with increased vigor, drinking him up and sucking his cock to get it all, squeezing and gently rubbing his balls to milk him. He was huffing and puffing now, and finally she released him. DJ stumbled backwards, falling onto the bed. She was not long, crawling on top of him and collapsing atop her husband, closing her eyes.

"Since I know you can't keep your hands to yourself, I have a present for you." His voice reached her even in her half asleep state.

"More presents?" She smiled softly as he slipped out from underneath her, snuggling her into his arms.

"Always more for my sugarplum."