Northern Idaho Christmas Heat

The rain hammered against the windows of the Northern Idaho resort, a relentless rhythm mirroring the quickening pulse in my veins. It had been a Christmas surprise, a carefully orchestrated series of gifts and gestures designed to rekindle the flame between my wife, Sarah, and me. Twelve days, twelve letters, twelve small tokens of affection, each one a step further down a path of escalating desire. Sunday morning, the day we were scheduled to leave, felt charged with an almost unbearable tension, a potent cocktail of anticipation and unspoken longing. The early church service had been a formality, a ritualistic cleansing before diving headfirst into the weekend we’d planned.

As we showered together, the steam clinging to the tiled walls, I took my time, savoring the feel of her skin beneath my fingertips. Her hair, a cascade of dark curls, tangled slightly as I ran my hands through it, pulling gently before sopping her body with a luxurious lather. The scent of the expensive shampoo filled the small bathroom, mingling with the earthy aroma of her perfume. My gaze lingered on her breasts, their fullness a constant reminder of the pleasure that awaited. I trailed my fingers along her skin, exploring every curve and contour, until they found their way to the sensitive mound below, teasing her with a playful touch.

“Looks like you could use a bit of a touch-up,” I whispered in her ear, my voice low and husky. “After all, I plan to spend a lot of time down there over the next two days!” Her breath hitched in her throat as she turned, her eyes widening slightly. The razor and conditioner I had pre-positioned on the counter glinted under the bathroom light. As she widened her stance, I lowered myself to my knees, the cool tiles pressing against my knees as I began shaving the smooth skin between her legs, paying particular attention to her lower lips. The rhythmic scrape of the blade against her flesh was both a pleasure and a promise.

With a final, deliberate stroke, I soaped everything up again, running my hands over her pussy and bottom, exploring both of her holes with my fingers. Her sigh was a release, a moan of pure, unadulterated pleasure. It was the sound I’d been waiting for, the confirmation that my intentions were being met. “It’s time to get out,” I said, my voice laced with a hint of anticipation. Still, she agreed, knowing we didn't want to be late for the service.

On the drive in, I handed her a letter and had her read “Sex or Worship” by LoveGrace on MH. It was a provocative piece, a passionate argument for viewing intimacy as a form of spiritual devotion. The discussion that followed was intense, pushing us both to examine our own desires and expectations. We were headed to worship at church, embarking on a weekend that was brimming with the promise of married sex. The thought alone sent shivers down my spine.

After the service, we began our drive to the lake, taking turns completing the phrase, “It’s so romantic when…” We each took six or seven turns, then switched to, “It feels so good when…” This playful banter continued for over an hour, ratcheting up the heat and expectation levels, fueling our shared fantasies. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

We stopped for lunch along the way, fueling our bodies with delicious food before continuing our journey to the resort. As we approached, I arranged an early check-in, eager to lose ourselves in the luxurious confines of our room. Upon entering, we embraced and kissed, a desperate, passionate reunion after a long day. The feeling of her soft curves against my own was intoxicating. Our kissing grew more fervent, our hands roaming outside of each other’s clothing, a silent declaration of our mutual desire.

I stopped her, and once again she groaned when I did. “Babe, I have tickets to a holiday concert. If we keep this up, you won’t have time to get ready, especially if I devour you like I want to right now,” I told her with a frown. “But we don’t have to stop the fun completely,” I added, my frown turning to a grin as I handed her a pair of panties. These weren’t just any panties. This pair we had used on a few special occasions. There was a small pouch sewn into the crotch that held a little remote-controlled vibrating bullet, and she smiled when she recognized them.

“Hmmmm, so you plan on teasing me all night long?” she asked, her voice laced with playful anticipation.

“You bet I do,” I replied. “Now go slip these on; we have to get going or we are going to be late for the show.” As soon as she walked out of the bathroom, I hit the remote button and a grin lit up her face. “Not wasting any time, I see,” she smiled.

I just grinned in return and for the next twenty minutes had fun turning the vibrations on and off. It wasn’t until we were seated in the auditorium that problems began. The bullet was quiet and there was background noise, but I made sure to turn the bullet off each time someone needed to pass so no one with sharp hearing might twig to what was going on. We were located on the aisle, so I had to keep standing to let people enter into the center section. When the fourth group needed to get by, my wife awkwardly stood, and I could tell something was wrong.

“Turn it off,” she whispered in my ear.

“I did,” I replied.

“No. you didn’t,” she responded right back as the tension in her body increased.

Frantically, I pressed the button on the remote in my pocket but the look in her eyes told me I hadn’t been successful. Another couple approached to pass. This time, rather than standing, she turned her knees to the side to let them pass, closing her eyes as she did. I could tell her breathing had changed and knew I was reading the signs of an impending orgasm. I was feeling both bad and turned on, knowing I had inadvertently put my wife in the position of having an orgasm while sitting right next to complete strangers.

Finally, in desperation, I pulled the remote out of my pocket. Hiding it in in my hand behind the program and moving it as close to her pussy as I could without drawing attention, I pressed the button. A look of both relief and frustration passed over her face, and she relaxed back into the seat. We looked at each other and, after a moment, started giggling over what we hoped was still just our secret.

“The batteries must be low. Sorry,” I said into her ear.

“No your not!” she replied with a cheeky grin.

I just grinned in return and for the next twenty minutes had fun turning the vibrations on and off. It wasn’t until we were seated in the auditorium that problems began. The bullet was quiet and there was background noise, but I made sure to turn the bullet off each time someone needed to pass so no one with sharp hearing might twig to what was going on. We were located on the aisle, so I had to keep standing to let people enter into the center section. When the fourth group needed to get by, my wife awkwardly stood, and I could tell something was wrong.

“Turn it off,” she whispered in my ear.

“I did,” I replied.

“No. you didn’t,” she responded right back as the tension in her body increased.

Frantically, I pressed the button on the remote in my pocket but the look in her eyes told me I hadn’t been successful. Another couple approached to pass. This time, rather than standing, she turned her knees to the side to let them pass, closing her eyes as she did. I could tell her breathing had changed and knew I was reading the signs of an impending orgasm. I was feeling both bad and turned on, knowing I had inadvertently put my wife in the position of having an orgasm while sitting right next to complete strangers.

Finally, in desperation, I pulled the remote out of my pocket. Hiding it in in my hand behind the program and moving it as close to her pussy as I could without drawing attention, I pressed the button. A look of both relief and frustration passed over her face, and she relaxed back into the seat. We looked at each other and, after a moment, started giggling over what we hoped was still just our secret.

“The batteries must be low. Sorry,” I said into her ear.

“No your not!” she replied with a cheeky grin.

As soon as we were seated in the auditorium, my wife began to moan as I pressed the button on the remote. The vibrations caused her to clutch at my arm, her grip tightening with each pulse. Her eyes rolled back in her head, lost in the pleasure she was experiencing. The lights dimmed, and the music began, but I barely noticed. All my attention was focused on her, on the raw, primal desire that filled the air between us.

The rest of the night was a blur of passionate encounters, each one more intense than the last. Back at the resort, we indulged in a full day of sensual exploration, pushing our boundaries and discovering new levels of pleasure. The remote-controlled bullet became an integral part of our intimacy, teasing and tantalizing her throughout the day.

Finally, we returned to our room, weary but exhilarated. After a long shower, we lay tangled in the sheets, our bodies slick with sweat and anticipation. As I gently caressed her skin, she moaned softly, her breath hot against my ear. The scent of her perfume filled the air, a potent reminder of the magic we had created together.

Looking back, I realize that the Christmas surprise was more than just a series of gifts and gestures. It was a catalyst, a spark that ignited a fire within us, a passion that we hadn't realized was still burning so brightly. The memory of that weekend will forever be etched in my mind, a testament to the power of love, desire, and shared intimacy.

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