wave him off with my hand, and stand up, heading for the kitchen. I really wish I could down a shot of whiskey, but everyone keeps telling me it’s shitty for the baby. Damn it. I opt for a glass of apple juice, one of the few cravings I’ve had since learning about Squishy. It’s just nice that I can finally keep it down.
A big crash echoes through the living room, followed by Levi cursing up a storm.
“Fuck this shit! Fuck this tree!” I peek around the corner to see the tree laying on the ground next to him. He is holding onto his side wincing in pain. I can't help but laugh at him on my way to the bedroom, where I’ll indulge in a nice warm bath.
“Merry Christmas Levi.”
(Levi)
She laughed at me and continued on her way. I’m officially going to start calling her Scrooge McDuck. Anything that has to do with Christmas is like pulling damn teeth. I guess her upbringing is to blame though.
Growing up, I always had these huge family Christmases. Lights on everything, a giant real Christmas tree we would trek into the woods upstate to cut down ourselves, Advent calendars, and massive celebrations. And because I am an only child, my parents spoiled the shit out of me. That was until they died my senior year of high school. Everything changed then. The happy home life I’d known growing up was thrust out the window when I was forced to go live with my aunt and uncle, whom I still don't care much for, but that is a story for another day. I think?
Maybe I shouldn't have bothered with the stupid tree. We are leaving tomorrow morning, and won't be back for a couple days. I’m sure by the time we get back, all the needles will be all over the floor, giving Seven another reason to flip out. Fuckin' hormones man!
I wrestle to get the tree upright again, and secure it in the wrought iron Christmas tree stand I pulled from my storage unit, which houses everything of my parents. I have so many fond memories of my father holding up our Christmas tree, while I turned the screws on the stand to secure it in place. We always decorated it together.
I make my way into the bedroom, somewhat on the heels of Seven. I can hear the bathtub running. In between daily showers, she has taken to soaking in the sprawling marble garden tub. She insists it helps her achy body feel better, and I can only worry how she will feel once the baby starts to get bigger. I probably worry way too much about her, and I know it pisses her off. I just can't help it after losing my parents. If I lost her, I have no fuckin' clue what I would do. I can tell you one thing for certain, it wouldn't be pretty. Just like when they died.
“Weren't going to ask me to join you?” I peek my head in the door to see her luscious body floating in the bubble-filled tub. She’s a picture of perfect beauty in every way physically possible. I’m the luckiest man on earth.
“I’m still waiting on that foot rub, Father Christmas,” she laughs while sticking her toes out from under the blanket of bubbles. She smiles a genuine smile, the first I’ve seen all day since she had to go head-to-head with a board member over something in the employee fraternization policy. That was scary. I send up a silent thank you to the big guy, that I’m actually on her good side in the boardroom. Seven James-Parker is not an enemy I would want.
I unbutton my shirt, letting it fall to the floor while I work on my belt and dress pants, leaving them behind in a pile in the middle of the spacious bathroom. I slide my boxer-briefs down to meet the pile, and dip my hand into the tub.
“You know you aren't supposed to have water that hot, Seven,” I try to hide the disapproval in my voice, but, once again, the worry wart in me shows. The water might as well be boiling, even after the doctor warned her about the hot water.
“It's only for a little bit,” she bites on her bottom lip, and all my concern goes out the window. My cock twitches and slowly starts coming to life
A big crash echoes through the living room, followed by Levi cursing up a storm.
“Fuck this shit! Fuck this tree!” I peek around the corner to see the tree laying on the ground next to him. He is holding onto his side wincing in pain. I can't help but laugh at him on my way to the bedroom, where I’ll indulge in a nice warm bath.
“Merry Christmas Levi.”
(Levi)
She laughed at me and continued on her way. I’m officially going to start calling her Scrooge McDuck. Anything that has to do with Christmas is like pulling damn teeth. I guess her upbringing is to blame though.
Growing up, I always had these huge family Christmases. Lights on everything, a giant real Christmas tree we would trek into the woods upstate to cut down ourselves, Advent calendars, and massive celebrations. And because I am an only child, my parents spoiled the shit out of me. That was until they died my senior year of high school. Everything changed then. The happy home life I’d known growing up was thrust out the window when I was forced to go live with my aunt and uncle, whom I still don't care much for, but that is a story for another day. I think?
Maybe I shouldn't have bothered with the stupid tree. We are leaving tomorrow morning, and won't be back for a couple days. I’m sure by the time we get back, all the needles will be all over the floor, giving Seven another reason to flip out. Fuckin' hormones man!
I wrestle to get the tree upright again, and secure it in the wrought iron Christmas tree stand I pulled from my storage unit, which houses everything of my parents. I have so many fond memories of my father holding up our Christmas tree, while I turned the screws on the stand to secure it in place. We always decorated it together.
I make my way into the bedroom, somewhat on the heels of Seven. I can hear the bathtub running. In between daily showers, she has taken to soaking in the sprawling marble garden tub. She insists it helps her achy body feel better, and I can only worry how she will feel once the baby starts to get bigger. I probably worry way too much about her, and I know it pisses her off. I just can't help it after losing my parents. If I lost her, I have no fuckin' clue what I would do. I can tell you one thing for certain, it wouldn't be pretty. Just like when they died.
“Weren't going to ask me to join you?” I peek my head in the door to see her luscious body floating in the bubble-filled tub. She’s a picture of perfect beauty in every way physically possible. I’m the luckiest man on earth.
“I’m still waiting on that foot rub, Father Christmas,” she laughs while sticking her toes out from under the blanket of bubbles. She smiles a genuine smile, the first I’ve seen all day since she had to go head-to-head with a board member over something in the employee fraternization policy. That was scary. I send up a silent thank you to the big guy, that I’m actually on her good side in the boardroom. Seven James-Parker is not an enemy I would want.
I unbutton my shirt, letting it fall to the floor while I work on my belt and dress pants, leaving them behind in a pile in the middle of the spacious bathroom. I slide my boxer-briefs down to meet the pile, and dip my hand into the tub.
“You know you aren't supposed to have water that hot, Seven,” I try to hide the disapproval in my voice, but, once again, the worry wart in me shows. The water might as well be boiling, even after the doctor warned her about the hot water.
“It's only for a little bit,” she bites on her bottom lip, and all my concern goes out the window. My cock twitches and slowly starts coming to life
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