Christmas Wishes

For the one who knows my thoughts are always with him... This, a replica of a dream...

***

It's Christmas Eve. The kids are all finally tucked into bed, we've managed to keep them from shaking the crap out of all the gifts as they try to figure out what's in them, and we've also managed to keep littler fingers from pulling all the bows and labels off...although it does make it interesting when we have to figure out which label goes to which gift...! Now we're settled back on the sofa, drinks in hand but hardly touched, letting the soft glow of the glimmering tree lights wash over us, cozy in front of the fire, more cozy cuddled up together.

I haven't been able to keep my hands off of you, as usual, but tonight, with the softness and lights and peacefulness of it all, I don't even try. My head is tucked into your shoulder, one hand cradling my drink while the other skims from your chest to your thigh to your fingers, soaking in every moment of this feeling, knowing this is how the season is supposed to feel.

I must have made a noise or something, because you tip your head down and ask "What?"

Drowsily I look up at you, sublimely content, a smile and look on in my eyes that take your breath away. You've never felt so loved, so cherished. And as your eyes meet mine, that aching hunger which is always there but sometimes controlled, starts to make its presence felt. Seems like we'll never be able to get enough of each other...but we don't want to, so it's ok.

Reaching over to set your glass down, you turn, slip your hand into my hair and pull my face to yours, giving me the most gentle of kisses, the softest of sighs escaping as our lips meet. Slowly, gently, the kiss deepens, moist lips parting to allow soft, sweet swipes of tongue against lips, against teeth, against tongue.

I whimper in concern, and you laugh as you realize I'm somewhat struggling to set my own drink on the table, but can't quite see where it is, I'm so focused on you and involved in our kisses. Shaking your head at me, you set my drink down, and have no sooner leaned back then I'm pushing you against the arm of the sofa, sliding against you, straddling one leg and sliding my hands up under your shirt. You can feel the heat between my thighs as it warms your leg. I'm moaning at the feel of your body under my hands, the hum of my pleasure vibrating against your neck, where I'm currently kissing and tasting you, licking and nuzzling right there at that ridge between shoulder and back and neck, coming around to taste your throat, nip your shoulder, whisper naughty little ideas in your ear. My hips are rocking as I feel you under my fingers, the heated vee of my thighs becoming obviously moist. You watch the flush of desire color my cheeks, burn in my eyes, and enjoy knowing you can get to me so badly without even having touched me yourself.

Your hands merely rest on my hips, letting me take control -- for now. You like watching me bend over you, hips encased in tight jeans, shirt unbuttoned enough to make you lust. And when I lean down to undo your pants, my shirt gapes open far enough to make you moan. You watch as yellow oxford gives way to dark purple satin and lace, lifting me, shaping me...making you ache to fill that creamy valley with your dark skin.

I lift your hips and pull your pants down, engulfing you in the heated moisture of my mouth, making love to you orally as much as I do verbally and physically. Licking, kissing, stroking, sucking, I am consumed with the need to please you. You feel my moans vibrate along your length, and your response to my avid pleasure in tasting you like this makes you slick enough so that I can easily use my hand to stroke what I can't take in...until you put your hand to the back of my head, pushing me down, making me take more of it, all of it, knowing the sounds and feel of me choking on your length will drive us both right to the edge, if not over.

Feeling me shudder, you know I'm cumming, and the thought of me getting off while you force yourself into my throat makes you clench, moan, and cum, my throat stroking and caressing you as I struggle to swallow and not drown. Putting your head back, you softly caress my silky hair, feeling me slide up your body until I can curl up in your arms and rest there, savoring your sweet, creamy taste. We share soft, gentle kisses, both of us resting before we head up to our bed, where we spend several hours pleasuring each other, cries of passion muffled against blankets, pillows, and shoulders as we send each other over the brink of sanity again and again, each part of my body for your pleasure as is each part of yours for mine.

And when we're finally too exhausted to do anything more, we curl up together, temporarily sated, loving being able to do this. You're still in me, both of us gently throbbing, as we fall asleep, and when wake during the night we indulge in gentle loving, always falling asleep again with this bond between us. Given the pure emotion that pulses between us, there's no way I can avoid getting pregnant on this perfect night, and the thought of having your baby makes me explode, again and again, until I lay unconscious in your arms, your grin filling my thoughts even as your seed fills my womb.

But, finally, the kids can be patient no longer, and come barging into the bedroom, bouncing on the bed, yelling for us to get up, all of them secretly thrilled with how happy we are together. Tugging the covers up, we sit up and wrap our arms around each other, pulling the kids to us and rejoicing in this, the merriest kind of Christmas of all...