I Love You Grandpa

George rumbled slightly and rolled over in his bed. There was something, someone more accurately, moving around downstairs. He paused for a moment slowing his breathing slightly and focused his mind to drown out the steady sound of the air conditioner. It was in the living room with the Christmas Tree. That got him to his feet even though it was his head had only just hit the pillow an hour ago. That was a few thousand dollars worth presents waiting for his children and grandchildren. He slipped his feet into a pair of slippers and crept toward the door opening it without a single sound.

Once he was in the hallway he could smell hot cinnamon and apples wafting from the living room. The scent instantly brought a smile to his face along with a flood of half forgotten memories. He was focused on the task at hand so he couldn't remember what the memory was of only that it brought made him smile. He could tell by the flicker that the living room was lit by candle light, probably the source of the delicious aroma filling the hall. His mind flashed briefly to a fire, that was an authentic pine tree in the room and if it caught it would take the presents and probably the house before George could even dial nine one one.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs he another of his senses was hit by a something familiar, a slow tinkling music like dozens of tiny bells being played. It was the same song that his wife's music box had played. He hadn't heard it since he'd buried her three years ago, a victim of breast cancer. He'd had the box buried with her partially because he thought she'd want it that way and partially be cause he couldn't bear to look at it. Consciously he wanted to be furious that someone would dare play that song but the tears in his eyes weren't angry ones and instead of reaching for any of the sports related bludgeoning tools in the coat closet he continued toward the living room unarmed and found her.

He knew he had to be dreaming because it was his wife who was scuffling around the Christmas Tree as beautiful as the day he first met her. More beautiful actually because in addition to the way she'd looked at twenty she was the woman he loved until she'd been taken away in her sixties. He chuckled slightly to himself because only Christina would have chosen to surprise him like this. Most ghosts would have came out and said hello or at least have been dressed to meet their husband.

Christina wasn't dressed though, she was wrapped like a present with a big red bow that gathered her perky breasts up in front of her and traveled down between her legs just barely concealing her crotch. Like a felt bikini it left just enough to the imagination that George wanted to unwrap her and see just what she was hiding away. It didn't stop there. Christina's mouth and tongue were seductively, sadistically working one of the oversized candy canes. "Hi George don't you want to come get your present?" She cooed curling her finger to call him forward.

George's legs were stuck though. It would have been easy to rush forward and take her into his arms if he'd been certain that this was a dream. He couldn't convince himself that the impossible wasn't happening though. He could feel the cool wood floor beneath his feet and the warmth of the heater. If this was a dream it was by far the most vivid dream he'd ever experienced. The kind of dream where you'd always question what reality was after that moment. "Are you-"

"I'm not a ghost if that's what you're asking. Touch me, I'm flesh and blood and warm. I'd forgotten what it felt like to be warm." She smiled and took a deep breath her chest threatening to unwrap itself for a moment.

"How?" He whispered. He couldn't lift his feet but the floor was smooth and waxed so he didn't have to lift his feet. He could sort of slide his feet forward and glide towards her so did that.

"You wouldn't believe me." She replied musically. "It's just for tonight though. Lets say that someone believes in you and checked his list twice. I get to be naughty because you've been so very very nice." George's chuckle became a genuine laught. She was right. He didn't believe her. If that was the case why had it taken three years? "Because nobody asked before. Your grandson Topher always felt like it was his fault you weren't with me when he died." George started to open his mouth but Christina was speaking again. "Its not your fault, he never told anybody and he tries so hard to be brave for you. But he felt if you hadn't been taking care of him with the chickenpox maybe you could have helped me or at least been there when I died. So when he made his Christmas list this year the first thing and the last thing, and several points other things on his list were wishing you'd get to say good bye to me or see me one last time." She smiled.

"I don't believe it." George said. He sank to his knees and took reached out for her. It was the final test. He'd seen her and smelt her and heard her voice but all of those things had come to him in his dreams even when she was lying inches away but he'd never been able to touch her in a dream. He was never sure why but if he touched her he'd know that she was really there.

George wanted to laugh. He'd done three tours in Vietnam returned to America to be a cop for the next thirty years most of which he'd spent patrolling the worst neighborhoods of New York. He'd been in more gun fights than he could count. He'd even been wounded twice but he'd never been as scared as he was right then. It funny in a sad sort of way that he was afraid to touch his own wife of forty five years. "Touch me." She whispered.

As soon as George's skin touched hers he knew that she was real. She was really there. She was so warm and so soft. He thought he could feel an electric current coming off her. It made him feel something he hadn't felt in longer than he could remember. He felt young. Not just energetic, his grandchildren made him certain that he could move mountains. He felt young, the familiar ache at the small of his back was gone and he was certain that if he wanted he could lift his wife overhead and spin her around.

Of all the things he was sure he could do he chose only one. His seized her by the shoulders and hauled her into a desperate kiss. Her eyes widened slightly surprised at first by his sudden virility but then her eyes shut and her arms wrapped around his shoulders. It had been years since the two had held each other and longer than that since either had had the energy for the kind of heated kiss they were sharing then. "Now will you unwrap me?" Christina purred nipping at her Husband's lower lip.

"What's the rush?" George replied. His lips started wandering along her jaw line up to her ear. Just like it always had the his teeth against her ear lob had straightened her spine. "I feel like I could go all night."

"Honey, I've been waiting three years for this." She gasped untying the belt of his robe. "Three years for you." She hissed. "I only get one night. I don't want to wait." She pulled it open and wrapped her fingers around his thick appendage. "And neither do you." She gave him a solid squeeze to make her point. "Do you?"

George shook his head slightly and brought his hands up to the bow neatly tied between her breasts. A simple tug of the velvet ribbon was enough to free the fleshy globes to his hands. He hadn't forgotten a single thing about them. He remembered just how his wife had loved it when he pinched and twisted her nipples and his fingers no longer suffering from arthritic pain went straight to work occasionally bringing one or the other up to taste.

While George was busy with her breasts Christina finished unwrapping herself. The ribbon basically fell away anyway it just needed at little coaxing between her thighs and then it was just a memory. She guided his girth into her and nearly screamed. It was like her first time all over again that same delicious pain that was going to give way to pleasure at any moment. She hadn't felt like a girl in ages but as she clenched her teeth down on her own inner cheek to keep from alarming him she remembered what her first time was like all over. Then the pleasure washed over her. Her hands gripped his shoulders as tightly as she could manage. She wasn't fully in control of her hips as when they started to dance around George.

George had to struggle to keep control. his wife clearly had no idea what a half decade of celibacy does to a man. If she'd known her hips wouldn't have been swiveling the forbidden dance so well. He tried to fill his mind with thoughts of baseball, drying paint and grass. The only thing his mind could focus on was her ass which was gripped in his hands. He wanted to speak , to tell her to slow down, stop anything to the moment could last longer but every time he opened his mouth a moan escaped and took his voice with it. She was just more than he could handle.

Possibly the first time he'd been silent since the two of them had touched was his orgasm. His head snapped backward but he was completely silent as his orgasm racked through his body. George tried to fight it for a few moments tub that ended after only a few seconds. Then he submitted himself to the euphoric waves crashing against him. For a moment his eyes blanked out before he focused again and when he did her eyes were pinched shut just like her mouth. Whatever sensual dance her hips had held before was gone. Now her hips were just pumping against him with a rapid irregular beat and her thighs were clenching down around him. It had been years but he still knew the way Christina looked when she was having an orgasm and it couldn't have been too soon.

George smiled and kissed his wife along her throat down between her breasts and then back up to her ear. He had Christina turned over onto her hands and knees when there was a knock at the door. He turned slightly then shrugged. "It can wait. Whatever it is it can wait."

"It can't." Christina replied shaking her head sadly. "Pull on your robe and go greet your children and grandchildren." She smiled sadly. "Make sure you tell Topher there is a Santa and you forgive him." George turned to the door and when he turned back to face Christina he was alone in his bed but someone was knocking at the door.

It took a long moment before he pulled his robe on and walked downstairs to open the door. It was his son, Jacob, and his family, most importantly little Topher. "Come in." George said leading them into the living room. "I'm sorry I don't have breakfast-" He fell silent when he saw a velvet ribbon wrapped around nothing beside the Christmas tree and a dulled candy can. "Jacob. I need a moment with my Grandson." Jacob looked at his wife and daughter and waited a moment then herded them into the kitchen. As soon as they were alone George pulled Topher into a hug. "I never blamed you boy. I made my choice and I was happy for it. But I forgive you and thank you. Santa Clause. . .he is real and thank you for your Christmas wish." For a moment Topher didn't understand and he just hugged his grandfather because that's what children do. Then the words sank in and his grip tightened.

"I love you Grandpa."