A CHRISTMAS STORY...
c1998 Iggy

It was two days before Christmas and the snow was falling heavily. It had been falling since the morning with traffic conditions worsening as the day progressed. Not many cars passed me now as most of the sensible people had gone home early, but I had been too busy to leave. I looked at my watch for probably the sixth time since Iíd been standing here... 7:10. The bus to take me the ten miles home from work should have been here almost an hour ago.

I was just pondering the prospect of attempting to walk home when I heard a voice behind me. I swung round to see a woman in the doorway of the house immediately behind the bus stop.

"Would you like to wait inside?" she asked.

"Yes please," I replied, and shuffled towards her.


I shook the snow from my anorak and slipped of the hood before I entered her home. She suggested I took off my coat and sheíd hang it somewhere to drip. As she moved down the hallway to hang my coat up, I got my first proper look at her in the brighter light at the other end of the hall.

It was a very pleasant sight. She was a little older than me and, as usual, my first appraisal was of her hair. The most interesting feature of woman to my mind. I was delighted to see that she was wearing her hair up. It was a reddish blonde colour, naturally so, I thought and sheíd wound it into a loose bun. Judging by the number of twists it was quite long.

"Go into the lounge, the fires on," she gestured. "Thereís only Terry in there. Just say hello to him."

I presumed Terry must be her husband. It was unthinkable that such an attractive woman wouldnít have a partner. I entered the room gingerly to find no-one there, just a cat luxuriating in the heat from the log fire. The husband mustíve been elsewhere. I moved to the fire to get warm and the cat rolled onto itís back, I obliged by tickling itís belly and being rewarded by a load purr.

"Youíve made friends with Terry then," she said, as she entered the room carrying two steaming mugs.

"Oh, yes. This is Terry then?" I replied.

"Yes. He shares my house with me," she explained. No husband then, I thought.

She gave me a mug of tea and told me sheíd watched me standing outside and was worried that Iíd get hypothermia. I agreed that it had been very cold out there. She enquired how far Iíd got to go and I told her.

"I donít think the bus will be running tonight and you canít walk that far in this weather," she reasoned.

"I havenít got much choice."

"Youíre welcome to sleep on the settee," she offered.

"That would be a life saver, if you donít mind."

She smiled. "Iím sure I can find you a couple of blankets and Iíve got a night shirt that isnít too feminine you can borrow. Itíll be better than sleeping in your damp clothes."


We spent the evening chatting. I told her lots of things about myself but found out very little about her. I wanted to talk to her about her hair, like how long was it for starters, but didnít want to say anything to upset her in case I was ejected into the freezing night.

I amused myself by trying to imagine whether her pubic hair would be the same red colour as the mass of hair she had swept into a bun. I would never know.

"Iíll get those blankets," she said. It was about eleven oíclock now.

I thanked her again for letting me stay when she returned with a sheet, three blankets and a long night shirt which was like a big white Tee shirt. It had picture of a Teddy Bear across the front but was appreciated none the less.

"Hope you sleep OK," she told me, as she left the room. I wished her goodnight.


I slept lightly, snuggled down into the blankets, warm and cosy, almost womb like. The fire was still going well and provided a soft amber glow to the room and kept it nicely heated. I drifted off into a sleepy haze when I became aware of a figure standing over me. I focused my eyes, it was the woman. I hadnít even found out her name. She had a dressing gown on.

"Are you asleep?" she whispered.

"No," I replied softly. "Why?"

"I just wondered if you were all right?"

"Blissful," I said, and not sure if this was real or a dream asked.

"Donít you take your hair down at night?" It was still in its elegant bun.

"Donít you like it up?"

"Very much, but Iíd love to see how long it is."

"I noticed you were staring at it tonight."

"Itís lovely," I assured her.

She knelt down beside me and tipped her head forwards submissively over me. "Pull the pins out," she suggested.

I didnít need persuasion. I gently felt around the soft edges of her coiled bun until found a hairpin and slid it gently out. A small piece of hair came loose but the bulk of it stayed up. I found another large pin and slid this one out. I was amazed that one pin could hold up so much hair, because as soon as I released it I was enveloped in a mass of gorgeously soft and thick red tresses. I ran my fingers through them, her hair felt so wonderful and covered me and my makeshift bed.

She stood up and threw her hair to one side so that it cascaded down her front. I was stunned at itís length, she must have been able to sit on it. She unfastened the dressing gown tie and let it slip from her shoulders standing naked in front of me, illuminated in silhouette by the amber glow.

"Is there room for me in there?" she asked silkily.

I threw the covers open and pulled the night shirt off over my head. She slid in beside me and I pulled her hair around me, my skin tingled under its touch. Her erect nipples felt cool against my warm skin. I stroked them gently to warm them. Her lips found mine and she kissed me passionately, my mouth was full not only of her tongue but also her abundant tresses but I wasnít complaining.

My hand slid down from her breast, eager to find her pleasure spot and give her all the satisfaction I could. I prided myself on my abilities where female stimulation was concerned. I knew the spot. As my hand moved lower I had a surprise when I found that her vagina was shaved. She giggled slightly as my fingers probed and searched for pubic hair.

"Iím sure youíd rather I cut it down there than cut this," she joked holding a long piece of her hair up and brushing it across my face.

"Please donít ever cut that," I urged. "Was down there the same colour before you shaved it?"

"Thatís a secret," she replied.

There followed two hours of the most wonderful passion Iíd ever had. Judging by her actions and reactions she enjoyed it thoroughly too. When it was over and we were both satiated, she didnít stay with me, but slipped away in the night to her own bed, leaving me with a wonderful satisfied glow.


She woke me the following morning with a cup of tea. She was dressed, and her long long hair was restored to its elegant coiled bun. I made to touch it but she moved away to stop me saying, "No you donít."

I wondered if last night had really happened. She seemed a different woman today. If it had been a dream, it was brilliant. I decided it must have been wishful thinking on my part. Things like that just donít happen in real life. Oh well, we can all dream.

After Iíd washed and dressed she gave me some cereal for breakfast. I told her Iíd walk home after that, as, although there was still plenty of snow, the sun was now shining.

I put on my coat and thanked her again. She opened the door to let me out and as I squeezed past her to go, she surprised me by kissing me on the cheek. I looked at her, slightly surprised.

"I might tell you that secret you want to know next time," she smiled.

I never saw her again...

Merry Xmas everyone,
Iggy

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