The Stones of Christmas

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Snow is holy.

It falls on the streets and the cars. It softens and obscures the hard edges of the buildings and falls on the shoppers hurrying about their business. It muffles the sounds of the traffic and slowly builds up in white mounds on the windowsills and fire escapes, covering everything with pure, soft white.

Each flake is a jewel, perfect in its own right. They sparkle and gleam and cling to your coat like gems, and then are gone. Water needs the cold to bring out its real structure, and each snowflake owes its six-fold symmetry to the geometry of the water molecule. In snow we are seeing nature’s secrets made manifest, and with such beauty that it astonishes us and takes our breath away. And none of them duplicates.

Well, I suppose some of them are, but who has time to look for them? Not me. Christmas eve and I was finishing up my shopping, leaving the liquor store and headed back to return Marilynn’s necklace for the fourth time. This one was too femme, I was sure of it: too fine and wispy. The first one had been too S double anchor and rolo and Bismarck and braid, and all of them bearing semi-precious stones and gems: malachite and tourmaline and rock crystal, garnet and jasper and onyx. Tracy knew the names of all of them in all their styles, and she knew all of their stories, how long they’d been in the store, who should wear them and how they should be worn; which stones were lucky and which were not.

The snow still fell softly past the window and the silence of Christmas Eve descended on the land, but I hardly noticed. Tracy’s delight in her adornment was childlike and it embarrassed her, but it was impossible not to be affected by her joy. I was supposed to be at Marilynn’s to take her to a party but güvenilir bahis I didn’t even bother to call. I felt like a kid again, like Christmas really was special.

At six o’clock we heard the church bells start to peal across the way, and in the sudden awkward silence I leaned across the table and finally kissed her, just lips against lips, in love with her beauty and her happiness. She tilted her face up to me without a word and let herself be kissed, as someone who knew that she was beautiful and knew I couldn’t resist.

I should possibly have known better. I was much older, and I was already committed to someone, or thought I was. But we came together out of loneliness, and that soft aching night that’s Christmas Eve, when everyone’s waiting for a miracle. I don’t know if I would have wanted her so much if we hadn’t been such perfect strangers, but being strangers on this night, it seemed to make us want each other even more.

“Before, out in the front, you said Christmas Eve was special to you,” I said as we broke the kiss. “What did you mean?”

She smiled. “This is what I do every Christmas Eve. After I close the store I come back here and I put on all the jewelry I can find. I decorate myself like a Christmas tree.”

“And…?”

“And? And that’s all.” She looked at me coyly.

“No one to see you? No one to see how beautiful you are?

“No.” She could have blushed but she didn’t. “I know it’s silly. I pretend I’m a barbarian princess and that all the jewelry belongs to me. The next morning I put it all back”

“I don’t think it’s silly,” I said. “I think it’s beautiful. I think you’re beautiful too. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so beautiful in my life.”

I wasn’t lying. She was dripping türkçe bahis with gold and silver and semi-precious stones, and on anyone else it would have looked ridiculous, but not to me. I stood up and took her hand and made her stand, and I led her to the middle of the floor and I took her in my arms and melted into her embrace, and Tracy lifted her hands and the gold and silver bracelets clanked softly as she wrapped her slim arms around my neck

It wasn’t easy getting her turtleneck off with all that jewelry. I helped out as best I could, stretching the neck out while she stripped it off over her head. I wouldn’t let her take them off. I wouldn’t let her remove a single thing: not a ring, not a stone.

Her jeans were easier. She stepped out of her shoes and I peeled them down her legs and threw them on the sofa. I took off my clothes as naturally as if I were in my own bedroom and turned off the kitchen lights, and we turned to each other in the moody darkness. I moved my hands down to her bottom and her buttocks were like two peaches against my palms, smooth and warm beneath the slickness of her panties. My rampant cock was bent up between us but neither of us was ashamed.

The necklaces were cold, but the metal warmed quickly from the heat of our skin. I took her in my arms again, and as we kissed I reached behind her and unhooked her bra and slid it off her arms. The straps kept catching in the bracelets, but she waited patiently while I freed it and threw it on a chair.

In the semi-darkness she gleamed like a Christmas ornament. She shimmered like an icicle.

“We can go upstairs,” she said. “But it’s only a twin bed.”

“No,” I said. “Let’s stay here.”

I made her lean against the kitchen table and I parted güvenilir bahis siteleri the wreath of necklaces with my nose, pushing them aside to reach her naked breasts, which were small and delicately formed. Her nipples were distended and exquisite, and exquisitely sensitive; warmer and softer than the stones that covered her chest. When I took one between my lips she gave a little gasp and brought her hands up to caress the back of my neck. I stole a glance up at her and saw her looking at me, watching me kiss her nipples. She was enjoying it, but more than that she was enjoying my enjoyment of her. I hadn’t seen that look in a woman’s eyes for a very long time: that glow they get when they know you find them beautiful.

She had a tattoo on her hip, some sort of flowery vine trailing down beneath her panties, and another tattoo—a flower—on her breast. A Chinese dragon climbed from her collarbone up the side of her neck; her turtleneck had kept me from noticing it before.

I tasted her flower, then I caressed the dragon with my lips. I squatted down and kissed my way down the flowering vine to where it disappeared beneath her white nylon panties, and then I pulled her panties down, pursuing her pleasure over the expanse of her warm, smooth belly.

I didn’t ask her what she was thinking, but I was hoping she was pretending she was a barbarian princess and me some common peasant hardly worthy to kiss her feet. I was hoping she would fit me into her fantasy and find a way to make me belong.

“Here,” I said. I lifted her leg and placed one foot on the table. Her other foot was on the floor. She still wore her little black socks. They made her look so young

Tracy leaned back on one jewel-encrusted arm and put her finger in her mouth apprehensively as she watched me kiss my way up the inside of her thigh. She was shaved bare and already glistening with excitement, and when my tongue dipped down to lick her she threw her head back and hummed softly.

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