Frustratingly, my new girlfriend would only put on a shy, lip-biting smile and say, "I don't know," during the afterglow of sex.

I've been hinting at bringing in a third into the bedroom a couple of months after the first time we've started having intercourse. I've been divorced a few years and wanted to explore the kink I've fantasized about but couldn't act on with my priggish ex. I didn't hide the fact that I desired to make up for the lost time and she was aware of how much the idea turned me on. And judging from her reactions, the pillow talk seemed to turn her on too. But that's all it was: pillow talk.

After months of, "I don't know," I was beginning to think it was a lost cause. I was feeling as though she was just saying what I wanted to hear and not really into the idea. I was torn between breaking it off to explore my fantasies with someone else - or settling for what I had: an incredibly beautiful lady that I always had a great time with -  and the equally incredible sex we were having. I'd let time decide.

The holidays were approaching and shared that I had several out-of-town meetings that would keep us apart in the two weeks before Christmas. Pretty typical in my profession. We've never been apart that long since we first started dating. Christmas Day would be the earliest we could get together and she volunteered to prepare a nice dinner for us and exchange gifts then. 

It was December 10th. I'd be flying out the next morning for work - and begin the achingly long time apart from each other. Our sex that night was more incredible than ever, likely because we both knew it would be our last for a while. In our sweaty afterglow, I once again brought up the thought of bringing a third into our play. But rather than the typical, "I don't know," she said, "Are you sure you want that? It wouldn't bother you seeing me with another man? There's no going back afterward, you know." 

We've never gotten this far before. She's never asked any questions about it to start an actual conversation about the possibility. "Bother me? I think sharing you with another guy would turn me on to no end," I answered. "Hell, my head is spinning right now just thinking about it. You want to give it a try with me?"

As was typical, she shyly bit her lip and smiled saying, "I don't know." I'd have once again been frustrated, but it appeared that she may finally be moving in the right direction. My erection returned and I put it to good use. I mounted her for a second round as if to use my dick to underscore how turned on I was.

It was the morning of 14th. I showered and prepped for a scheduled meeting when I heard my phone come alive. It was a text from my girlfriend. It read "Good morning! I've been thinking a lot about what you want from me, so here is the beginning of the Twelve Days of Christmas. This is Day Twelve. Enjoy!"

I stared at the phone and wondered what she was talking about when the phone came alive again. It was a photo of her in a white bathrobe. She looked sexy as hell! The robe was partially opened enough to show that she nude underneath, but her 'sexy parts' were still covered. Very erotic. I was about to respond when the phone dinged again. She added, "DO NOT CALL OR TEXT ME! This is part of your gift and I don't want to spoil it. I'll see you for Christmas dinner at 6:00. Have a great trip until then."

Question marks were shooting out of my head but planned to do as I was told and not contact her. I just elected to soak up that gorgeous image and excitedly wonder what she had in store for me.

At precisely 9:00 in the morning, my phone dinged. It was a new text from my girlfriend. I excitedly opened her message to find the words "Day Eleven" followed by another photo. This one was a view of her removing her white bathrobe from behind. Again, nothing overt but exceptionally erotic. Her back was bare and the robe draped down enough to expose the top part of her ass. I was really enjoying her idea. It made me feel my gift of concert tickets for her seem lame by comparison. I gazed at the image with a growing hard-on until I had to run off to another meeting.

On schedule, the next morning read "Day Ten". The image was of her in the shower all soaped up with a leg on the seat and leaning forward to shave her long, luscious leg. The angle and position were such that once again, I couldn't see her ample breasts or private area. She was driving me nuts! I was tempted to reply right then and tell her how much she was turning me on but decided that I'd better comply with her request.

Day Nine was an image of her nude in front of a mirror. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and she was leaning one arm on her vanity. Unlike the other photos, this one plainly showed her tight ass. The mirror reflected her flat stomach and a nice peek at one of her breasts under her arm as she applied lipstick. Those photos were exceptionally well thought out and composed. I couldn't wait until the next morning to see what she'd send next. 

I didn't think I'd be disappointed, but I was. Day Eight showed her fully dressed as if she were going to a business meeting. A button-down blouse, pencil skirt, and high heels holding a clutch purse at her side. It was the type of photo you'd see in a women's magazine ad. She looked beautiful and the photo was very nice, but I was hoping for something more... revealing. Compared to what she'd sent already, this one was anticlimactic. I shrugged my shoulders and headed out for the day.

"Day Seven" was the text, followed by a pic of her removing her clothes. I was beginning to notice a pattern, like a sequence. She was telling me a story of sorts. I had no idea where she was going with it, but did notice the background was strange. Her place didn't have that furniture nor color scheme. I also noticed the photo was better. Like a higher resolution than the previous ones she'd sent. The photo had her blouse undone and stepping out of her skirt.

Where was she? Her outfit surprised me too. Thigh-stockings, garter belt, thongs, and lacey bra - all in black. I didn't even know she owned anything like them. She always looked great no matter what she wore, but now she looked like a slut. An incredibly sexy fetish slut. Where was she!

Day Six's note came at the appointed hour. I didn't get much sleep that night and was apprehensive about my next photo. I nervously opened it and immediately went flush with what I saw. My sweet girlfriend was nude, but for her garters, stockings and heels.. and chained - spread-eagled - to a St. Andrew's Cross! I couldn't believe I was looking at my girlfriend enough to zoom in to try and find any hint of the pic being photoshopped. It was real. My head was spinning. In part with shock - in part with incredible arousal. 

I spent the day distracted by and absorbing what she'd sent that morning. I ached to provide some sort of appropriate reply, but as turned on as I was, I was still in a shock. I simply wasn't prepared for the slap in the face of seeing her so exposed - and vulnerable. I found myself both looking forward to and dreading Day Five. 

9:00 sharp, the phone announced her. My fingers trembled as I opened the image. There she was, kneeling in her outfit with her hands cuffed behind her. She was wearing a collar connected to a chain held by a guy standing in front of her. He was nude and sporting an exceptional hard-on just inches from her face. 

I zoomed in to see streams of saliva dangling between her mouth and the tip of his dick. Fuck! She's done it! Although I was hundreds of miles away, she's brought in a third for me! Oh-my-Gawd, my fantasies have finally come to be! I couldn't wait to get home! Where was she!!

Day Four didn't disappoint. But for the collar and heels, she was face down on a padded table and totally nude. There was a spreader bar attached to her ankles and her hands cuffed to its center. The position had her ass high and accessible to anyone wanting to take advantage. All of the photos I've received have been exquisitely composed and erotic, but this one showed a degree of submission that topped the eroticism of all the others. Whomever she had to photograph her would no doubt take advantage. And it excited me. 

I couldn't hold it back any longer and decided to respond with something deep, well-thought-out and encouraging, but a smiley face was all I could muster. I just hoped she wouldn't consider it a faux-pax under the terms of her 'gift'. She didn't reply.

9:00 Day Three. I was staring at my phone for better than an hour already. I didn't sleep a wink fantasizing about everything. She must really care about me to have indulged in all that for me. I couldn't imagine how much better things were going to get between us. I was glad I waited it out to give her a chance to come around. How I managed to stave off jacking during all those photos was a testimony to my desire to save it all for her. She'd done all that for me and I intended to have my balls full and an iron-hard cock for her on Christmas.

Ping

I eagerly poked my phone and was floored. There was my girlfriend, legs spread wide and facing the camera. She was sitting on a cock that I could clearly see was deep inside her. She was leaning back with her hands rested on his chest as a second dick was sloppily inside her mouth. A third wet hard-on to her other side waiting for more attention. Three? Holy shit! Looking closer, I could see copious amounts of semen trailing from her neck and down between her breasts. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have met someone as attractive as she was and do all this for me. Only two days left to show my appreciation - and finally orgasm on my own.

The morning of Christmas Eve I didn't get anything. No photo. No text. To say I was disappointed would the understatement of the century. I sent a question mark, around noon but didn't get a reply. No matter. I couldn't imagine her topping that last photo anyway. I wondered if I were to be a part of that group in lieu of dinner. I packed and headed for the airport.

Christmas Day. I woke with a raging hard-on in anticipation of seeing her again - and the likelihood of fulfilling long-held fantasies. Dinner was a while away and the wait would be excruciating. The phone came alive as it had for the past twelve days.

"I hope you enjoyed your gift. Sorry to set you up like this but you deserve it. Before I met you, I was in a dark place. I used sex as a release and became a total slut. I was spiraling out of control until I met you. You made me feel better about myself and thought you could pull me out of my depression and finally able to enjoy a 'normal' life. I was wrong. You're as big a pig as the others I've been dating for too long now. Sex is easy. Love not so much. I'm moving on to chase my own dreams. One of love and monogamy. Good luck with your fantasies. Merry Christmas, asshole."

My world collapsed. I tried calling back for weeks and even dropped by her place a few times, but always got what I expected: no answer. I was dead to her. 

I was sure there was a lesson to be taught by my time with her. Maybe fantasies ought to be left in one's head. Maybe I should learn to be happy with what I've got and not push for more. I'd say my experience has changed me, but frankly, I still masturbate to her photos.