What of the blue lace?

We seem to be falling towards a different pattern with sex. (I say towards, rather than into, as the latter would imply we’re having sex on anything like a regular basis. And we’re not!) If we’re both awake about 6am we’ll try to fuck.

On Xmas Day morning we were both awake about 6am and we tried to fuck.

See? The pattern’s forming itself quite nicely.
She stroked my cock quite nicely.
As far as I could tell I’d been stroking Her body quite nicely too. Her breathing changed at all the right moments, and having told Her how much I like masturbating Her, I have been allowed to stroke Her quim. (I’m not pretending my hand has had an easy time – I’ve been restricted to the sort of access that has put considerable stain on my wrist, and as desperate as I am to sink my fingers deep into Her cunt, their tips have merely brushed along her slit. But that IS progress.)
However, it was apparent She wasn’t getting where She needed to go. She told me that some bits of what I was doing felt really good, but neck pain was getting in the way for Her. So I moved my hands from Her fun bits to Her neck, and massaged it.

With the abuse my right wrist had just been subjected to, in order to reach between her thighs, I needed to be more gentle with it. So my Wife rolled onto Her front, I straddled her back and got to work on Her neck and shoulders properly. (Just to complete the image for you, Dear Reader, I made sure to casually trail my now flaccid member along Her back at every opportunity.) Eventually my thumbs had had enough, so I climbed off and lay back myself.

She cuddled up and reached for my limp tool, which became as rigid as it ever gets within a mere 3 or 4 strokes of Her hand. Damn, I needed to give Her a good hard pounding!
And then there came the sound of a child singing from the next room. Xmas coitus interruptus.

We both fell back against the pillows with frustration. But who are we to deny a young kid the magic of Xmas morning?

Before we attended to parental duties, I reached under the bed and pulled out Her Xmas present. Very pretty was the response. I was not displeased. She then produced my present – a small but inordinately expensive photographic accessory I have wanted for some time but couldn’t actually justify buying for myself. I’ve only mentioned it once, and not in specific terms, so it means She was listening, and then done some research, which gives me a warm feeling.

I got up first, had my shower, got dressed in front of my Wife, allowing Her to observe my still semi-erect cock for as long as I could without being obvious, before I put on what I think will be the piece of my newest underwear She will most like. And then I attend to seasonal proceedings. and breakfast

After my Wife had had her shower, I made a point of going back upstairs to check what She wanted for breakfast. And hopefully to see Her in Her new lingerie. I was not disappointed. When I walked into our room, She was only wearing Her new blue lace, and surveying it in the mirror. She turned to me with a look for approval, and I told Her She looked very nice. Which She did.

Unfortunately, I then learned something about bras.
I was informed that a lot of the pretty ones have seams in the wrong places and are too obvious under T-shirts. I pointed out I’d be the only person looking at Her tits, but that didn’t seem to carry any weight. I said we could take it back to the shop and exchange it if She wanted something else, which She declined, saying She liked it but it might just not get worn that often. I told Her getting worn was exactly the point of buying it for Her, which She acknowledged, and conceded She might have to start looking at wearing other tops more often.

In the end, She seemed wracked by indecision for what to wear to the Xmas family gathering. I think She changed outfit at leat 4 times, and ended up wearing the red bra and panties I bought for Her last year. Maybe the seams are less evident.
Not the best possible conclusion, but not the worst.

Having mulled the thought whilst in the shower, I later said to Her …
Me : … exchanging photographic equipment and lingerie in the bedroom – you’re going to give me ideas.
Her with a withering look : Yes dear!
Me : Well it’s not without president.
There was no immediate response and I wondered it She thought I meant I’d pornographed ex-girlfriends, so I reminded Her …
Me : I’ve got a very sexy photo of you reclining on a bed in your lingerie.
Her : Hmmm.
I have only one such photograph, from not long after we first started dating, and it’s a picture I’m very fond of. I’d love to take more photos of Her in lingerie … and naked … and masturbating … and impailed on my cock … but whilst I may have just sewn the seeds of that thought, I suspect they fell on hard, barren ground.

I don’t suppose I shall be pornographing Her in Her new blue lace any time soon, but I hope I will at least get to see Her in it.