The Earl sat in his library, staring at the brightly lit, elegantly adorned yule tree in the corner while agonizing over what to get his wife this Christmas.
He knew he had only himself to blame for the quandary he was facing.
An aging man, whose sexual stamina, if not his prowess, had faded, he had married a woman less than half his age after his first wife had passed away. Sexually, she was insatiable. Simply speaking, he couldn’t keep up with her voracious appetites.
As if that wasn’t enough, the Countess had grown accustomed to the wealth she had married into. Simple gifts were no longer sufficient. She always wanted ‘more.’
These twin problems formed the crux of his struggle.
*****
The solution to his dilemma suddenly came to mind as he espied a title on the bookshelf of his library, ‘Peter Carl Faberge: Jeweler to the Romanovs.’ Browsing through the thick, well-illustrated tome, he now knew how to sate both his young wife’s sexual desires and her love of expensive gifts.
A jeweled egg. Well, not exactly the type of egg Faberge would have presented to the Czar of All the Russians or his family.
No, this would be a modern egg geared to providing the ultimate in sexual pleasure to his wife, surrounded by a jeweled egg-shaped case made entirely of her two favorite jewels – red rubies and green emeralds, framed by strands of silver and gold to hold the shell together. One egg would be intended for her vaginal pleasure, the other egg for her anal pleasure. (The Earl’s first wife would never let him near her butt. He was pleasantly surprised that Vicky introduced him to the pleasures of anal sex. It was something the Earl soon learned to crave.)
While easy to conceptualize, the peer found execution tremendously more difficult to procure. The reality was, few jewelers were willing to undertake such complex pieces, especially on the compressed timescale the Earl was demanding. Finally, however, he was able to secure one jeweler in London to undertake the work, although at what he thought an exorbitant cost.
In addition to the eggs, the Earl also contracted for two more gifts for his young wife.
One was an assortment of twelve dildos of varying lengths, thicknesses, and gemstones, one for each month of the year. There was Garnet for January, Amethyst for February, Aquamarine for March, Diamond for April, Emerald for May, Pearl for June, Ruby for July, Peridot for August. Sapphire for September, Opal for October, Topaz for November, and Turquoise for December.
The other gift was similar; an assortment of twelve anal plugs, again of differing lengths and thickness, with the same gemstones as the dildos.
Surely, Victoria Louise could not complain about the extravagance of his gifts.
*****
The countess, although in her late twenties, had never truly ‘grown up.’ Like a giddy child, she kept asking her husband, “What did you get me for Christmas?”
Day after day, the Earl’s reply was the same. “You’ll just have to wait for Christmas, darling.”
“Please, can’t you give me a hint?” she would continuously badger him.
“Patience, my love. Patience. You won’t be disappointed, I promise.”
From time to time, he would notice the presents lying under the ‘big’ Christmas tree standing in the entrance foyer had been rearranged.
When he confronted his wife by asking, “Have you been a bad girl and shaken your presents?” she would always reply, “No, I’ve been a good girl.”
Finally, the Earl couldn’t take his wife’s increasingly more frequent torment. She was plaguing him to death.
“All right, Vicky, I will tell you what you can do. I have gotten you three thoughtful gifts this year. You may pick one gift, with one provision. You must use whichever gift you chose to open for the purpose for which it was intended. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
*****
One ‘tradition’ the Countess had introduced her husband to since their marriage was parading through the mansion half-clothed or even naked. Of course, they were always alone. The Earl’s adult children were married and did not live with him. They did visit frequently, however, often unexpectedly, and unannounced.
One can only imagine the angst the Earl felt when his wife, clad only in thigh-high stockings and stilettos, answered the door and found his son and daughter-in-law bringing gifts. They were, of course, immaculately dressed.
He swallowed hard, red with embarrassment as he now faced a dilemma. Before he could say anything, his wife dug the hole deeper.
Looking at her husband, “The Earl is allowing me to open one of my gifts early,” she blurted out.
He swallowed hard. All he could do now was allow his wife to continue to figuratively ‘dig her own grave.’
“Yes, honey, I did. But remember our agreement. You must use whichever gift you chose to open for the purpose for which it was intended.” He was hoping his wife might back down.
His son and daughter-in-law stared at each other in bewilderment, unsure what kind of gifts the Earl was referring to.
Vicky hesitated, also unsure what her husband meant by his repeated phrasing. After a few moments, she led the Earl’s family to the drawing room while she went to retrieve a present from under the tree in the entrance foyer.
Both the Earl and his family could hear the Countess rattling and shaking her gifts. Knowing his wife as he did, the Earl suspected she would choose the larger package, the one with the vaginal and anal eggs, over the other two, thinner gifts. He was right, as his naked wife reentered the drawing room.
Vicky looked at her husband with a mischievous smile as she ripped off the festive wrapping paper and bow. Opening the larger, sturdier box, she found two smaller boxes inside, but wrapped in a more risqué form of seasonal wrapping paper. She looked at her husband with a twinkle in her eye, as if waiting for his final approval.
Nodding approvingly, the Earl said, “Go ahead, my young, beautiful wife. Open your gifts. This is what you said you wanted.”
Moments later, with the ripped wrapping paper, ribbons, and bows strewn around her, she held up the two faux Faberge eggs.
Vicky ran to the Earl, jumped on his lap, and, eagerly kissing him, while grinding her hips into his lap. Moans quickly escaped from the Earl’s mouth.
“Look inside,” he was able to mutter as his wife’s tongue danced around his.
Opening each shell, she found the eggs the Earl had thoughtfully purchased from an online sex store she was intimately familiar with.
“Bring me the remotes,” the Earl asked in a firm voice. The tone was more of a command than a simple request.
His wife obediently complied.
“Now, Vicky, you know what your gifts are and how they’re used, don’t you?”
“Yes, my Lord,” spoken with a sense of formality.
After handing the control pads to her husband, the Countess seemed to await further instructions from the Earl.
“Now, my little vixen, insert one egg in your pussy.”
Vicky easily slid the first egg into her moist vagina.
The Earl activated the egg, sending vibrations surging throughout her pussy and eliciting moans of pleasure as the toy quickly took her to heights of ecstasy. It didn’t take long for his wife to have her first orgasm of the night, her juices dripping liberally on the carpeted floor.
“Now, my young bride, remove the vaginal egg and lube up with the anal egg with your pussy juices. Then bring it to me and bend over and grab your ankles.”
“I don’t know, it's so big. It won’t fit.”
“Trust me, Vicky, it will fit. Get it lubed up and show me your tight little butt. You know you want it.”
Once again, the Countess obeyed her husband. After thoroughly lubricating the egg with her vaginal juices, the Earl continued.
“Now, bring me both eggs.”
The Countess did as she was asked.
“Bend over and grab your ankles, honey.”
The Earl then slid, first, the vaginal egg back into her, and before, with a look of discomfort apparent on her face as she grimaced, her husband forced the egg past her resistant sphincter, eliciting a muffled ‘ouch’ in the process.
With both eggs humming and vibrating inside her, Vicky was soon moaning and groaning as waves of pleasure inundated her supple body. Soon, the spasms and sounds of concurrent orgasms filled the drawing room.
*****
And what of the Earl’s son and daughter-in-law, you ask?
Needless to say, as the spectacle unfolded before them, they, too, were drawn into the pre-Christmas festivities. Clothing was soon indiscriminately scattered about, and the term ‘Love Seat’ took on a new, more practical meaning as it became the site of an erotic sideshow all of its own.
But, as they say, that is for another story.
