SEX DIARIES: 'I hosted an X-Rated Christmas party. It was the hottest night of my life.'

Looking around my backyard it was almost like being at the Playboy Mansion. Even a young Hugh was there with a festive g-string under his robe. Everyone had well and truly committed to the 'X-rated Xmas' theme and now my garden resembled the Bras N Things summer catalogue. 

There was busty Nurse Feelgood administrating jelly shots to a flaming hot fireman while Miss Massage worked the party as a dirty French maid failed to keep things clean. Under the patio, short-skirted schoolgirls were teaching a pilot and paramedic how to play Kings Cup.

I was hosting, wearing sky high heels and a hot pink Santa costume that was more skin than material. Underneath I had on a thin silk dress, lace-top stockings and suspenders, with a matching hot pink Santa hat. 

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It was like a Victoria Secret’s runway, minus the wings, and sex was very much in the air.

People couldn't take their eyes – or hands – off each other. As the night wore on, sexual tensions escalated. 

By the time my boyfriend arrived – his white shirt gapping open, with reindeer antlers on his head – I was raring to go when he bent down to kiss me. Grabbing his hand, I made a beeline for my bedroom, passing my best friend making out with an elf I didn’t know in the bathroom.

Pushing the door open, giggling broke out as I realised my room was already occupied. Two Christmas angels, in see-through white dresses were spread out on my bed with Doctor Love between them. 

Holding a stethoscope to one’s bulging chest, he kissed down her neck while the other girl tugged at his scrubs. I stood watching for a second or two, getting seriously turned on.

At bursting point, I slammed the door closed and made for outside, pulling my boyfriend behind me. Walking under the DJ on the balcony and past the dancefloor gazebo, I lead him to the bottom of the garden and through a side gate. 

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Behind the shed I turned around, pushing him up against the metal wall as my mouth found his, my hands already unbuckling the deep throbbing in his jeans. Set free, I dropped to my knees, taking him in my mouth as his hands, on top of my hot pink Santa hat, pulled my lips closer, up and down. 

"Come here," he groaned moments later, lifting me to my feet before kissing me, deep and hard with tongue. Taking a seat on a pile of bricks stacked up against the fence, he looked up at me and patted his knee. 

"Have you been a naughty girl this year?" he grinned. I nodded my head and stepped forward, sitting down on his left leg as his hand stroked up my thigh. Fighting through the short tulle to find my very wet black lace g-string, he slid it to the side and pushed two fingers in. I gasped, arching my back, and clamped a hand over my mouth.

My breathing grew ragged as I pulled against him, my murmurs getting louder as his fingers worked harder. I was so close when he suddenly stopped. Withdrawing his hand, he slid my ass onto his lap as he grabbed himself and pushed it into me. Gripping my hips hard, I could feel his urgency as I began to bounce and up down, faster and faster, skin slapping skin. My uncontrollable moans drowned out by the music and the thrill that someone could stumble through the gate at any point.

In an explosive moment he came hard, sending me spiralling over the edge, screaming out as he pulled me closer, releasing every last drop into me.

Panting, I stood up, feeling the mess run down me, and turning to kiss my boyfriend, I straightened his antlers before going back to the party, completely satisfied.

The author of this story is known to Mamamia but has chosen to remain anonymous for privacy reasons. The feature image used is a stock photo from Getty.