This is a work of fantasy. It is not about real people, and if it is, it's not what they would do. (not that you are likely to know them anyway). If you are under 18, go away, since I donít like to get in trouble. If you are turned off by perversion, what are you doing at ASSTR? In other words, go away. If none of this applies to you, great! Read on! Have fun! Let me know what you like!
Oh, and I work hard on my writing...so guess what? Itís mine. Thatís right boys and girls...itís copyrighted...so if you want it? Just ask...weíll talk.
She quietly closed the door. It took two readings of "The Polar Express", one "Night before Christmas" and "The Fourth Wise Man" to get the two wiggle worms to fall asleep. Threatening that Santa wouldn't come until they were asleep didn't seem to do any good.
"Mark, They're asleep." She stage whispered down the hall. "I need your help bringing down the rest of the gifts." She heard him bound up the carpeted stairs, his long legs taking them three at a time. She walked down the hall ahead of him into their bedroom, where Santa's presents were waiting in their closet.
"Here. You take these, I've got these. One more trip should do it." They quietly carried the beribboned booty back down the stairs.
"I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus..." Rang low through the stereo speakers as they placed the presents carefully around the tree.
"You filled the stockings?"
"Mmhmm. Did you remember that present we hid in the office closet? What possessed you to buy such a large one?"
She smiled at him. "Oh, stop being such a bah humbug." He grinned back.
"One more job to do!" He said with a salacious look on his face.
"Well, Santa needs to eat his milk and cookies."
"Oh, Really?" she asked as he sat down in his recliner. She took the plate off the mantel and straddled his lap.
"Which one would you like first?" her eyes twinkled mischievously.
"That one." He pointed. He took a bite as she held it out for him. "Oh, wow. These are awesome, Kit. You have got to make these again next year."
She giggled as he dropped crumbs all down his front.
"Such a sloppy Santa. Do you need some help?"
With a twinkle in his eye, he answered, "Of course, are you going to clean me up, Mrs. Claus?"
"Kitty Claus. I like the ring of that."
Mark nearly snarfed. "My Kitty does not have claws. Come here..."
Mark pulled her down in front of the fire they'd built in the fireplace. Some show the kids watched said that the fire needed to be there, or Santa wouldn't come. Since it was on TV of COURSE it had to be true, but the fire was welcome. Mark placed the cookies on the hearth before leaning back and wrapping his arm around Kit. He nuzzled her ear and murmured, "The kids are asleep."
"Why Santa." She grinned as she leaned into his oncoming kiss. Her fingers came up to his jaw, stroking the beard as his tongue flickered against her cheek. She turned in his embrace, catching his errant mouth then kissing him warmly. His hands fumbled with the pearl buttons of her church blouse, feeling them move lower and lower, until the shirt hung free around her. The bra just as quickly unsnapped, and both fell to the floor. His hands massaged her back up and down, until he leaned over her, pressing her into the floor.
Mark broke off the kiss and reached for the cookies. Slowly, he crumbled them along the center of her chest, watching them fall against her glowing skin.
"Santa, you're getting messy again. You really must clean up after yourself." She grinned at him. She watched him as his head dipped down, licking up the crumbs slowly, his beard softly rasping her skin. "Mmmmm, yes. Now, don't miss any." He looked back up at her, his eyes twinkling in the firelight, and made a show of licking very carefully between her breasts catching each small crumb.
"Sorry-no milk there for the cookies. You'll just have to get a glass." She grinned back. He answered her by nipping her engorged nipple.
"Tease." She sighed. "Is this my Christmas present?"
"Oh, no, it's mine." He licked another line up to the tip of her breast catching the last of the cookies.
"While I love all this attention, this really isn't very comfortable, sweetheart." She said wriggling against the carpet.
"Hold that thought," as he got up and strode quickly to the couch, removing the shams and the afghan they kept there for chilly nights.
Gently, he lifted her head up and put the pillow under her. The crumbs were gone, and she turned to her side. He laid down beside her, pulling her naked back against his chest, then wrapping the blanket around the both of them.
"I love you," he murmured as they watched the fire. She pulled his arm tighter around herself in response.
"The fire is nice. It's almost hypnotic." She said. "I could almost sleep here, if the floor wasn't so hard." She added.
"I was thinking the same thing." They listened to the crackle of the fire, his hands gently caressing her abdomen and the undersides of her breasts. She took his hand and brought it to her lips, kissing it softly before returning it to its wanderings.
"Lets put the air mattress down here next year. After the kids go to bed, we'll put it up, and sleep in front of the fire--a new Christmas tradition."
"Will I be able to eat the cookies in bed?" he squeezed her.
"No crumbs in my bed!" she grinned, turning in his arms and kissing his jaw.
"Actually, that would be nice...then I wouldn't have to drag you upstairs to give you your Christmas present, since you require more comfort than the floor. You know, now that I think about it, it would probably be safer too, with the fire and all."
She nodded sleepily against him, "The kids are going to be up at the break of dawn."
He sighed, then stood up and placed the grate in front of the fireplace.
"Did you put out Santa's Letter?" she asked.
"Yep, right on the cookie plate, properly covered in cookie crumbs." He paused. "I'll race you upstairs...and whoever wins has to give the other their Christmas present tonight." He smirked.
"Oh, no. You promised me." She giggled, tossing the pillows for him to put up as she raced him up the stairs.
© Dryad (firstname.lastname@example.org) 2003