=====================

Christmas Eve, 4:30 am

Within a minute of starting my drive to the airport, I realize something is wrong.

And I don’t mean with my family, whom I am about to visit for Christmas.

Not that there isn't plenty wrong there. But the more immediate problem is that my car has a flat tire.

I pull off somewhere safe to change the tire. In the dark.

I keep a headlamp in the car, but as my luck would have it, the batteries are dead. Thankfully, one of the presents that I have packed in my suitcase for my nephews is battery-powered. I spend several precious minutes digging them out - the batteries, not the nephews - then repacking and getting some light on my unfortunate task.

Expletives start flying fast and furious as I try to get the fucking jack set up. Somehow the fucking handle has gotten fucking bent from storage in the fucking trunk, forcing me to remove and reinsert said fucking handle with every fucking crank. I'm getting cranky and bent out of shape myself.

Fifty filthy minutes later, tire installed and expletives released, I’m back on my way. I reach the departure gate with about two minutes to spare.

=====================

Christmas Eve, 10:00 am

I arrive at my layover airport to find my connecting flight canceled. Conditions are clear here in Denver, but the minor winter storm forecasted to hit my parents' hometown has turned into a major one.

To be honest, I'm not completely bummed about missing Christmas Eve. My girlfriend-hating mother, my conspiracy-obsessed brother and my recently divorced sister are all certain to dish up healthy servings of drama for Christmas Eve dinner. I love them all dearly, but missing the first evening of all this won’t be a huge loss.

The far greater disappointment is that pretty much every room in Denver is booked up. Desperately wanting to avoid spending the night MIA on the DIA concourse floor, I wrack my brain trying to think of any people I know in Colorado.

Aha! I remember that Divya and Ravi moved here a couple of years ago. Divya was a colleague at a company where I worked a few years ago, and met her amiable husband Ravi a few times at team events.

“Why of course you can stay with us tonight, Joe!” Divya exudes over the phone in her rich accent. “We don’t have any social plans until tomorrow evening anyway! We'd be delighted to share our Christmas Eve with you!”

Finally, a stroke of good luck! I know I can expect an entertaining evening as my hosts regale me with tales of their numerous adventures. Divya and Ravi keep their living expenses low and have no children, spending surplus income on things like skiing and fishing gear, rafting trips down the Colorado River and vacations to Europe or South America. This should be fun.

=====================

Christmas Eve, 1:00 pm

Divya and Ravi pick me up in a wheezing old Corolla whose condition suggests it has been around the block a few times. The odometer suggests it has been around the planet a few times.

As we drive, Divya explains that she and Ravi have been busy decorating and baking cookies to get ready for Christmas. "Ravi and I both went to Catholic schools, on opposite sides of the country - he in Pondicherry and I in Goa - so Christmas rituals are very important to us. We always dress up a tree, put a star on our front door, bake treats, wrap presents ... all in! We also like to stay up until midnight and find a special new way to ring in each Christmas.”

"Fortunately for you, we were just finishing the preparations when you called," continues Ravi with a broad smile, "leaving us free to show our surprise guest a good time. Would you like to tour some of the sights of the Mile-High City?”

"Or ..." ventures Divya, "well, I do have one other idea, but only if you’re up for it."

"Divya, that might be a lot ..." cautions Ravi.

She ignores him. "I seem to recall that you like to ski, don't you, Joe?”

I nod, pleased that she remembers this.

“Perhaps it would be too much, given what you have gone through today, but you can decide after I tell you one piece of information. And that is that Keystone got nineteen inches overnight. We finished our decorating early, just before you called, precisely because we had been thinking about hitting the freshie. Might we interest you in a little night skiing?”

Fresh snow? In real mountains? Sure beats the overcrowded, fire-hazard candlelit church service I'll be missing back home. “Actually, that sounds perfect to take my mind off this morning. Why not?"

"I'm so excited!" exclaims Divya, reaching back from the driver's seat to grab my hand. “Oh, we are going to have such a wonderful Christmas Eve together!”

=====================

Christmas Eve, 1:30 pm

As we enter their condo, a modest unit in a Seventies-era complex somewhere in a first-ring Denver suburb, there is a faint burnt smell. “Oh, fucking hell!" exclaims Divya. “I left the last tray of cookies in the oven!” She rushes to turn it off, then faces us, her shapely butt pressed against the oven door as if to block any more smoke from escaping. “Joe, I hope your luck is not rubbing off on us,” she taunts with a faint grin.

“Oh my God, I sure wouldn’t wish that on you,” I reply, feeling a bit mortified at the possibility.

“Oh, don’t worry, Joe,” reassures Ravi. “She’s just teasing. We don't believe in that kind of shit.”

Their dining table is laden with sweet treats, their rich aromas just managing to rise above the smoke. In addition to Burfi squares with which I'm already familiar, Ravi points out the Pineapple Sheera cakes he has made, a specialty of his hometown, and Divya shows off her ten-layer Bebinka, the caramelly "Queen of Cakes" representing her state.

There are also American-style Christmas cookies. There are sandwich jam cookies, gingerbread men and shortbread cutouts. The latter are frosted and sprinkled not only with the usual images of trees, snowmen and Santas, but also Ganesha, the Sri Yantra, and lotus. The look of them suggests they have been enhanced with Indian spices. I'm practically drooling.

“A little experiment, Joe. I thought I’d bring some Indian zest to the American cookie tradition.”

Zest indeed. One of the jam cookies is decorated with a pink yoni symbol, the clitoral image of femininity.

“Beautiful! May I sample one?”

“You may not, Joe,” Divya reprimands, grabbing my hand and locking eyes with me. “Those are for later. Especially that one.” She indicates the feminine cookie with a wink. “Yoni is only for boys who make the Good List."

“Worth staying on her good side,” adds Ravi with a smirk. For a split second, I picture my head between Divya’s legs, sampling her actual yoni, but I push the thought away.

=====================

Christmas Eve, 3:00 pm

The drive up to the mountains is filled with more lively conversation. We find the lift lines nonexistent and the snow fantastic, carving turn after turn through fresh, nearly knee-deep powder. The warm banter continues on our lift rides between runs, Divya’s soft hips pressed against mine on while Ravi anchors the opposite side of the quad chair on each trip up.

My friends share some juicy gossip about two coworkers getting caught having an affair in the office. “Joe, they were found in the breakroom," shares Divya conspiratorially. "It was eight o’clock at night and everyone else had gone home ..."

"But a security guard, who just happens to be my cousin Arun," adds Ravi, "caught them while making his rounds, and he told me all the details.”

“When they got caught," shares Divya, "Nadia had her legs wide open on the counter while Jim ate her pussy.” I’m a bit shocked to hear this word from her, but also a bit enthralled to hear it with her accent. Maybe I shouldn’t be shocked, having already seen a pussy cookie in their kitchen.

Divya has widened her own legs a bit in demonstration, pressing one of hers against mine and causing our skis to scratch against each other, which sends a current through my legs. "And when they got caught, she was squealing ... " She pauses for effect and then exclaims in a sexed-up porn voice, "Ohh...ohhh! Eat my strawberry cupcake, Jimmy!'”

We all laugh uproariously over that, though I must admit that hearing this from Divya’s mouth has elevated my enthrallment to exhilaration and sent a twinge to my tool. I remind myself to be respectful of my hosts and not get caught daydreaming about getting between Divya's legs.

“Poor things, dragged out of the office," jokes Ravi, taking a moment to regain his composure as we disembark the lift before adding, "with 'strawberry frosting' all over his face!" More giggles.

"I’m sure you would never leave a ‘cupcake’ half-eaten, Joe," she adds with a wink and a smack on my butt with her ski pole. Ravi sees this but merely smiles.

Deciding we have gotten our money’s worth from our night-shift lift tickets, we take one final glorious powder run and head back to their place to heat up some tamales they’ve picked up on the way to the airport.

=====================

Christmas Eve, 9:00 pm

Over candlelight at dinner, Divya finally explains why the cookies were for later. "They are an experiment not just of applying Indian spices to American treats, but of making edibles. This is Colorado, after all. You are welcome to try them when we are done with dinner, but I didn’t want to get you high before skiing. As you well know, Ravi and I may not live in America forever, and we are trying to enjoy the full experience here: residing in the city, going to plays regularly, visiting the mountains, partaking of legal weed, all these things."

"There are so many things in this culture that our Indian friends, bless them, would never try!" continues Ravi. "Certainly not pot cookies or skiing on Christmas Eve. Why, these days, we even hear stories of many young Americans practicing polyamory or opening up their marriages. Much too wild for them to even dream of!”

“Oh my goodness, I can’t even imagine the scandal such a thing would create in our community!" exclaims Divya, eyeing me directly. "Oh, how they would talk!"

Ravi continues. "Of course, If we ever decided to experience such a thing - hypothetically speaking, of course - it would have to be with someone outside of our community."

I happen to be someone outside their community. Has this evening turned into a “date” of sorts with these two? I hardly dare hope, but if so, I’d gladly share their bed.

Before the conversation can go further down this path - food for thought as impossibly delicious as the moist and delectable tamales - it veers to tales of their recent trip to Argentina.

=====================

Christmas Eve, 10:30 pm

Divya suggests that we "test" the cookies and subsequently ring in Christmas by soothing our sore muscles in the building's spa and sauna.

We each sample a cookie. Adding the spices was a stroke of genius. Rich with nutmeg, cardamom and a hint of saffron, the Ganesha cookie that I choose doesn't even taste weedy.

When I finish it, Divya offers the pink, feminine cookie, a look on her face that is half smirking and half seductive. "If you would like, Joe, you may taste my yoni."

I take the bait. “Does that mean that I have made the Good List?”

Grinning, Ravi declares, "Yes, Joe, and I assure you there is no better reward than what Divya is offering.”

"But Ravi,” I parry back, “are you sure you're okay with me eating your wife ..."

I pause for a beat.

"... 's yoni?"

Divya giggles, perhaps affected by the weed already. "Boys, boys, you can both eat my yoni!” She steps closer and holds the pink confection out between us. "Please share it.”

Ravi's eyes bore into mine as he leans forward, each of us taking a tiny nibble of the cookie. This one is indeed special, bearing the delicate taste of rosewater.

Divya herself is less delicate. "Don't be so shy!” she demands theatrically. “It should be eaten boldly!"

Ravi and I lean in again for bigger bites. The cookie breaks and we each get about half, our lips brushing each other's as we chomp, sending a jolt of electricity into my mouth. I am spinning, and not just from the weed.

We stand there for a moment, Ravi and I regarding each other and Divya looking triumphant, as we chew our cookie bites, all three of us cracking up with giggles of stoned laughter.

Maybe this is where the “opening of their marriage” stops being hypothetical.

Nope, not quite yet. The ring of a phone interrupts the swollen moment. "Oh, God damn it," Ravi exclaims, dribbling out a few cookie crumbs. "It’s Lakshmi."

"Lakshmi?" I ask, puzzled. Uh-oh. Have we offended the goddess of prosperity by going in the direction I think we are going? I'm not absolutely sure this is going where I where I think it is going, but I think I like where I think it is going. Yes, I do like where I think it is going.

Oh shit, I am definitely high, getting lost in thoughts like that. It almost seems off in the distance that I hear Ravi groan, "My sister Lakshmi," in explanation. "I really do have to take this." I will myself to avoid drifting off, which would be all too easy to do in this condition.

"It's already Christmas morning back in India, you know," confirms Divya as Ravi takes the phone into the bedroom. "He might be an hour." She stands directly in front of me, smiling broadly. "Let's you and I go warm up the sauna for him.”

=====================

Christmas Eve, 11:00 pm

Divya and I cross the darkened pool enclosure towards the open shower. She stops, faces me and pulls me close. Looking me in the eyes, she kisses me briefly and delicately on the lips and then softly says, “Joe, Ravi and I would very much like to open our marriage with you. Do you find the idea attractive?"

“Oh, very much." I lean in and we start tongue-kissing. Finally!

Her hand reaches inside my bulging swimsuit. “Sorry if we have sprung this on you. But," she adds with a giggle, "you do seem kind of sprung yourself.”

She pulls down my swimsuit, gently stroking my erection, which is positively tingling, equally from the pot and from her sexiness. She directs me to shower while she walks over to the sauna to start the heat.

Divya makes a show of slowly peeling off her one-piece in front of the sauna door. It takes all my will to avoid touching myself as she reveals all her considerable assets and saunters back.

“Why don’t you start by washing me?” she implores, stepping under the shower with me. I do as requested, soaping up her back first, then working down around her hips. Next, I step closer behind her, working my soapy hands up to her neck and shoulders, and finally under her arms to her chest, taking her generous breasts in my hands and massaging them. She moans as I kiss her neck, squeezing the nipples between my slippery fingers. “A little harder, Joe,” she whimpers. I squeeze harder, and she pushes back on my hips until my erection is between her cheeks.

“Oh, I absolutely must have you inside me later, Joe, but not quite yet,” she teases. My hands work their way down and my fingers explore her soft folds, gently squeezing her clitoris. Now mostly rinsed of soap, my fingers find fresh slickness just inside her opening.

I pull them out and lick them.

“Now you taste my yoni for real." She turns her head back towards me. "How do you like it?”

“Even sweeter than the cookie,” I reply with a kiss.

"Mmm, you have definitely made the Nice List, Joe. More treats await.”

We end the shower and ease into the steaming water of the hot tub, kissing for a long time, roaming our hands over each other's bodies but mostly not between the legs. She seems to want to progress slowly. I gather this is not out of reluctance, but of simply wanting to prolong the delicious moment. I feel the same, my mental state having mellowed to where I could kiss her for hours.

“I’m getting too hot. Why don’t we go to the pool and cool off?”

We get in the cooler water of the swimming pool, kissing again, hands wrapped around each other, my cock pressed between our bellies. She strokes it a few times, then stops.

“Joe, it is so tempting to do more of this, but I would really like to save your first emission for when Ravi gets here.”

“I am sure it will be worth the wait.”

“If you are comfortable with it, I would love for tonight not to be only about two men pleasing me."

"I kind of figured the idea was for all three of us to enjoy each other.”

We move into the sauna, which is only set to 130F. It is very comfortably warm but not steamingly hot. In other words, perfect for sex. Divya sits on the upper bench where it is warmest. Kneeling on the lower bench, I kiss her legs, then I suck on her toes. Next, I lick my way back up a leg, finally approaching her pussy.

"Oh God, please yes!" she exclaims, throwing back her head, as my mouth finally reaches her pleasure center. I consume her delectable cunt for quite a few minutes, once again lost in the moment as well as lost in her folds, finally bringing her to a long, deeply moaning orgasm.

=====================

Christmas Eve, 11:45 pm

The sauna door opens, and in steps Ravi, naked. And erect. Perhaps he has been watching through the tiny window.

“I wonder why it smells like mango juice in here?" he deadpans.

“Wrong, Ravi, it’s strawberry cupcake!” parries Divya.

“Well, Joe, I hope you have not left the strawberry shortcake unfinished.” Ravi chortles back. “You heard back on the ski lift how upsetting that is to Divya.”

"I thought it was yoni?"

“Yoni ... mango juice ... strawberry shortcake … the taste so nice we named it thrice!” declares Ravi. We all break into a fit of uncontrollable laughter and he reaches his hand up for a high-five. A very generous gesture, I must say, for a man to give someone still kneeling between his ravished wife’s legs.

As we regain our composure, I realize Ravi has held onto my high-five hand. He pulls us towards each other and kisses me much more forcefully than Divya has done, as if trying to suck the taste of his wife from my mouth. Our hands find each other’s penises and we stroke each other gingerly.

Perhaps sensing my impending eruption, Ravi eases me to lean back onto the bench and swallows my sword in one quick motion. Having adjusted to the heat of the sauna, my penis finds the inside of his mouth surprisingly cool, though still immensely pleasurable.

Well, that lasts a few seconds. Suddenly the enormous pressure that has been building all evening releases in seconds, filling Ravi’s eager mouth.

He opens wide to show that he is saving my semen, and Divya and I join him in a sloppy three-way kiss to savor it together. Some of it drips onto Divya's tits, which I promptly clean up.

"What do you think, Ravi?" asks Divya.

"With your juices still on Joe's mouth, it's better than a mango lassi!"

"I'm happy to have provided the cream for that," I say. “But now it's your turn, Ravi. Hopefully, I can give as good as I get."

"I have saved myself for a couple of days, Joe. You might well end up getting as good as you just gave."

I take his musky, silken rod into my mouth, trying to mimic the treatment he just gave me, and above all remembering to keep my teeth in check. Ravi appears satisfied with my neophyte effort, muttering things like "Oh, you make me feel so good, Joe,” “Yes, suck out my seed, man” and “I am getting ready to feed you my cum, my friend." And he tenses up, dispensing eight or ten good squirts into my hungry mouth.

Once he calms down, I open my mouth, as he has just done, but then I make a show of then swallowing it.

"Oooh, he's a swallower!" exudes Divya, giving another high-five. "So am I!"

A phone beeps just outside the sauna door.

"Merry Christmas!" erupt Divya and Ravi.

"What, it's midnight?" I ask.

"Yes! Such perfect timing!"

"I couldn't ask for a better way to ring it in," I declare.

"What else does midnight mean, Ravi?"

"It means time for fucking," he replies with a grin.

"We always save that for after midnight on Christmas,” Divya explains. “And we always try to do it in some novel way each year, which I think we can declare particularly successful this year. Of course,” she adds, squatting above me on the bench, "rules of hospitality dictate that we let our dear guest go first." I feel the sweet slickness of her tunnel engulfing my rod, even more exquisitely than Ravi's mouth just did.

Divya stops once I am fully buried inside her depths. I feel a squeeze as she rocks her hips and flexes her kegels, then slowly starts riding me up and down. She leans her head back as I suck on her neck, and then I begin to feast on her soft, succulent titties. We have been in the sauna long enough for them to have gotten quite salty, which I am finding highly stimulating. Once again, my mellow mental state has me almost losing track of time as we slowly rock our bodies together.

Ravi is not left out, however. At Divya’s urging, he kneels on the bench in front of us. We take turns enveloping his manliness in our mouths for a while. Then he disappears behind us.

I feel the remarkable sensation of him sucking my balls into his mouth, something very few women have ever bothered to do for me.

And then I find him licking lower, his tongue slickening up my back hole, an even more remarkable sensation. I wonder if he's preparing me to be penetrated. I decide that if I am to lose my "virginity" tonight, I couldn't think of a nicer guy to break me in.

Or a nicer guy’s wife to be fucking while he does it.

But I don’t get it in the ass after all. Ravi moves back up to tongue Divya's rear aperture instead.

"Oh my God,” whines Divya. “Ravi, Joe, I need both of you in me.”

I feel pressure against the underside of my pole as Ravi's rod enters his wife’s rectum, separated from my own flesh only by a thin membrane. For her part, Divya is moaning so loudly that people outside the pool might hear. We find a cadence that works for all three of us, considerably quicker than it was only I moving inside Divya. My still somewhat-stoned mind is blown by all the sensations and I find myself approaching the pinnacle.

"Yes! Plant your seed inside me, Joe! I've wanted this all night!"

I do, and soon she is peaking again, her weight collapsing on me. I can't say that I mind, and although my prick is softening, I very much enjoy the sensation of Ravi’s plunging pecker stroking its underside from within her.

Ravi starts getting agitated, panting hard. “I'm cumming, Divya!"

"Oh yes, beautiful husband, fill my other hole with your cream too!" And he does.

We stumble out to the shower, taking time to lovingly wash each other's bodies clean of the sweat and other bodily fluids that have accumulated during our session.

=====================

Christmas morning, 9:30 am

Having slept hard from the previous long day, not to mention substances, I open my eyes to see Ravi lying next to me. Divya has left the bedroom. My cock hardens instantly and he takes it in his hand.

I reach for his hard-on and we gently play with each other. It is a wonderfully pleasant way to wake up.

"Joe, you've fucked my wife, quite spectacularly I must say,” Ravi says. He climbs on top of me, declaring, "But you have yet to fuck me." He adjusts his position so that my throbber is poking against his hole - which is remarkably slippery. He must have already lubed himself.

Despite his remarkable tightness, I find myself sliding inside him until his tight buttocks are firmly resting on my hips. As he starts moving me in and out of him, the tension of his sphincter squeezing up and down my shaft arouses no little passion in me. I reach for his cock to try to return half the pleasure he is giving me, pulling him into a deep tongue kiss.

Just a moment into this heightened level of intimacy, I hear the main door of the condo open and close.

“Oh! Joe, there is something I must tell you," Ravi whispers an inch from my face, still moving up and down on me.

I hear the sound of ... female voices?

"While you are the first person we have actually brought into our marriage, we did recently invite someone else."

The bedroom door opens, and in walks Divya .... followed by a striking blonde woman.

"Joe," declares Divya amusedly, "I'd like you to meet our friend Shannon."