beginning to mellow and mature, something I
was intensely relieved at.
She was going to be coming over with her mother, Luisa, who was
one of my oldest friends (she had long ago graciously forgiven me for
accidentally knocking her up when we were eighteen), her step-father,
Mike and her younger siblings with whom Chris was hopelessly in
love (an emotion that was reciprocated by the children in question).
Also joining the fray were two of Chris’s former band mates, John
and Lexi, who’d just welcomed baby Ruby into their family and my
sister Jilly. My friends Adam and Marlene were also coming along,
with their children. Needless to say, with the number of people we
were expecting, we had bought in extra food for the occasion.
When the last of the gifts was wrapped and pushed under the tree I
pulled Chris up onto the sofa and into my arms, where he settled back
against my chest. The only lights in the room came from the glow of
the TV, the twinkling of the tree in the corner, and the soft warmth of
the fire across the room. I hadn’t pulled the heavy curtains over the
windows to stop the head escaping even though I knew I should.
There was something about these long winter nights that I absolutely
loved; being warm inside while looking out into beautifully clear
nights, when all the stars were visible, or the sky dark, heavy and
close with snow.
Chris sighed and turned his head against my chest, tilting his head up
so he could kiss my chin. Even after the year or more that we’d been
together, he still had a way of making my stomach flutter with lust,
excitement, and love.
“Need to go to bed soon,” he said, pointing to the clock which read
eleven thirty, “or Santa won’t come.”
I laughed and wrapped my arms around him, pressing a kiss to the
crown of his head.
“Come on, then,” I said. “Help me turn all of this off.”
We made short work of the task; the decorations had been up for
weeks and I had started to remember which plug sockets to go to
when switching the lights off. Chris bolted the front door and I
checked that my grumpy cat, Flea, was inside before falling into bed.
Even though I had the heat on it was still colder in our bedroom than
in the living room. Chris snuggled into my chest, tangling our legs
together with the comforter pulled up high on our shoulders. For a
few minutes all I could hear was his deep breathing, he then hummed
low in his chest and turned to seek out my kisses.
I wasn’t surprised that he wanted this – to be fair, he always wanted
this. Chris used sex as a way to connect, to share something beautiful
and intimate that belonged to only us. Before I’d met him I wasn’t a
particularly sexual person, but he’d drawn that out of me to a point
where I was confident enough to be myself and enjoy my sexuality.
He was a sensual person and I’d fallen in love with the way he
touched me.
For tonight, he positioned his body on top of mine, aligning our chests
and wanting cocks and held himself there as we exchanged soft,
delicate kisses. Our lips rubbed together and his tongue gently flicked
out to tease my bottom lip before he redirected his attention down the
side of my neck.
I kept my arms wrapped loosely around his waist as he pressed his
lips to my skin, over and over. His hair still faintly smelled of the
cinnamon he’d been cooking with earlier and, compared to his cold
feet, his lips were deliciously hot.
“I love you,” I whispered, wanting him to know this above anything
else.
Chris lifted his head from where he’d been kissing my shoulder and
smiled at me in the dark.
“I love you too,” he said and returned his mouth to mine.
With my arms holding his body close I rolled Chris on to his back,
taking over his previous position to take my turn to lavish attention on
his body. He pushed his hips up to meet mine, effectively telling me
to pay attention to his cock. Laughing softly, I pinned his hands to
was intensely relieved at.
She was going to be coming over with her mother, Luisa, who was
one of my oldest friends (she had long ago graciously forgiven me for
accidentally knocking her up when we were eighteen), her step-father,
Mike and her younger siblings with whom Chris was hopelessly in
love (an emotion that was reciprocated by the children in question).
Also joining the fray were two of Chris’s former band mates, John
and Lexi, who’d just welcomed baby Ruby into their family and my
sister Jilly. My friends Adam and Marlene were also coming along,
with their children. Needless to say, with the number of people we
were expecting, we had bought in extra food for the occasion.
When the last of the gifts was wrapped and pushed under the tree I
pulled Chris up onto the sofa and into my arms, where he settled back
against my chest. The only lights in the room came from the glow of
the TV, the twinkling of the tree in the corner, and the soft warmth of
the fire across the room. I hadn’t pulled the heavy curtains over the
windows to stop the head escaping even though I knew I should.
There was something about these long winter nights that I absolutely
loved; being warm inside while looking out into beautifully clear
nights, when all the stars were visible, or the sky dark, heavy and
close with snow.
Chris sighed and turned his head against my chest, tilting his head up
so he could kiss my chin. Even after the year or more that we’d been
together, he still had a way of making my stomach flutter with lust,
excitement, and love.
“Need to go to bed soon,” he said, pointing to the clock which read
eleven thirty, “or Santa won’t come.”
I laughed and wrapped my arms around him, pressing a kiss to the
crown of his head.
“Come on, then,” I said. “Help me turn all of this off.”
We made short work of the task; the decorations had been up for
weeks and I had started to remember which plug sockets to go to
when switching the lights off. Chris bolted the front door and I
checked that my grumpy cat, Flea, was inside before falling into bed.
Even though I had the heat on it was still colder in our bedroom than
in the living room. Chris snuggled into my chest, tangling our legs
together with the comforter pulled up high on our shoulders. For a
few minutes all I could hear was his deep breathing, he then hummed
low in his chest and turned to seek out my kisses.
I wasn’t surprised that he wanted this – to be fair, he always wanted
this. Chris used sex as a way to connect, to share something beautiful
and intimate that belonged to only us. Before I’d met him I wasn’t a
particularly sexual person, but he’d drawn that out of me to a point
where I was confident enough to be myself and enjoy my sexuality.
He was a sensual person and I’d fallen in love with the way he
touched me.
For tonight, he positioned his body on top of mine, aligning our chests
and wanting cocks and held himself there as we exchanged soft,
delicate kisses. Our lips rubbed together and his tongue gently flicked
out to tease my bottom lip before he redirected his attention down the
side of my neck.
I kept my arms wrapped loosely around his waist as he pressed his
lips to my skin, over and over. His hair still faintly smelled of the
cinnamon he’d been cooking with earlier and, compared to his cold
feet, his lips were deliciously hot.
“I love you,” I whispered, wanting him to know this above anything
else.
Chris lifted his head from where he’d been kissing my shoulder and
smiled at me in the dark.
“I love you too,” he said and returned his mouth to mine.
With my arms holding his body close I rolled Chris on to his back,
taking over his previous position to take my turn to lavish attention on
his body. He pushed his hips up to meet mine, effectively telling me
to pay attention to his cock. Laughing softly, I pinned his hands to
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