Mischief Under The Mistletoe

by Maren Smith

  "Can I help you?" a woman in an elegant black sheath dress asked when she stepped behind the stand.

  "Reservation for ten o'clock under the name Jason Smithy," Jason replied.

  "Oh yes, the wedding anniversary," she enthused. "My name is Evelyn and Jack will be your server tonight. I saved a table in the back section when your friends called to set up this gift." She plucked two thick plastic menus from somewhere in the stand. "This way."

  Jason took Michael's hand when he didn't start walking the moment Evelyn did. "I thought you wanted public play again?"

  "Yes, Sir." Michael took mincing steps as the plug shifted inside his ass. Sir is right. I was missing this.

  They passed through two dining rooms with extravagant chandeliers over each table before entering a room with muted overhead lighting to boost each table that was adorned with burning scarlet taper candles instead of flower arrangements.

  "This is lovely." Michael pushed his nails into his palms as the candles led his mind back to their bedroom.

  "And here you are," Evelyn said as she pointed at one table with its candles freshly lit. "Jack will be right with you."

  In a lowered growl, Jason asked, "Should I get our candles out tomorrow?"

  "Please, Sir," Michael whimpered, unable to keep the arousal out of his voice. He pulled out one seat for Jason before moving to the other one, lowering himself into his chair.

  "Hi there! I'm Jack." The waiter grinned and leaned close between the candles. "So I'm guessing I can get away with some flame with you two that I normally keep under wraps at work?"

  "Yeah." Jason took a sip of ice water as soon as Jack finished pouring his glass.

  Jack paused with a notebook in one hand and a pen in the other. "So are we celebrating an actual anniversary, the legal one, or both? Would you like any drinks or appetizers to start?"

  "Eighteen years tomorrow. I'm a spoiled boy who got his way on a Christmas day wedding, both eighteen years ago and when we renewed our vows legally." Michael smiled shyly.

  "How very sweet. Well happy anniversary a day early. I suppose unless you want Chinese that you usually celebrate on the eve."

  "We've had Chinese some years, but we're actually ready to order." Jason smiled at Jack. "We'll both have the T-bone steak, medium rare, with baked potato and asparagus for our sides as well as a glass each of the house red wine."

  So nice to have a restaurant meal before the cooking tomorrow. Once Jack stepped away, Michael murmured, "Thanks, Sir."

  Jason took Michael's hand, his thumb rubbing over the man's skin. "We moved here so we can be open as husband and husband, at least."

  "Yes." Michael's breath caught at the intensity of Jason's claiming gaze.

  "I will always be so thankful at how we both stuck out that night at the Swerve." Jason laughed.

  "I think we both hoped that 'gay night' would be more inclusive than it was, Sir."

  Jason sipped his ice water. "And you did such a lovely job proving that submissives aren't doormats."

  I love you so much, Master. Michael blinked. "Love you forever and a day. Happy anniversary."

  "Happy anniversary too. My love, you've made me a happy man every day since we met." Jason leaned forward to whisper, "Is that plug getting uncomfortable?"

  Michael lowered his gaze to their table as the heat rose into his cheeks. "Not too much." He swallowed and moved his lips soundlessly to form "Sir."

  "Are you sure that you have all your dishes on your master list? All ingredients bought?"

  "Sure." Michael licked his lips. "You're really not upset by my surprise plan?" Fuck, I sounded needy!

  "Sweet, if I had been upset, would I have allowed what happened to happen? I enjoyed the time with our friends very much. It was good you reminded me that the medical stuff doesn't mean I'm too old for fun." Jason smiled as Jack returned with wine glasses and a bottle. Once the waiter had poured generous half-glasses for each of them, he continued, "Do you know if we'll have Laesha or Josiah at dinner tomorrow? Is Laesha the name she seems set on when she dresses?"

  Scratching his nose, Michael considered Jason's question. "Um... they didn't tell me. I wish they'd answer finally what their identity is. I expect them to say they're transitioning one of these days, Sir."

  "We've seen much more of Laesha lately, but she's been going to the gender questioning group and using words like gender fluid, after hanging out with all those twenty-somethings."

  "She seems much happier, Sir."

  Jason sipped his wine. "That she does. I'm just glad she's pretty obvious about the pronouns she wants."

  "I bought a newer book about gender for us that the center's librarian recommended." Michael moved his hips until the plug eased off his prostate just a bit. It's not quite as private at the tables as Laesha hinted. Silly girl. "I put our separate bookmarks in it so we could both read it, Sir."

  "Good boy." Jason sighed. "When did I start settling into my age, unlike Laesha?"

  Michael frowned. "Not all of us have similar journeys. I think you've always known who you were, even before you had the words, even before it was comfortable or acceptable to use them, Sir."

  Jack appeared with a tray of steaming nachos. "I hope you don't mind the appetizer. It's on the house since you mentioned that tomorrow is your eighteenth wedding anniversary. Congrats."

  "Thank you." Michael shifted the flower vase to the side to make room for the platter as Jack set small plates in front of the men. He studied the nachos with an eye of how best to serve Jason.

  Rolling his eyes, Jason clicked his tongue. "I got it, boy. I'm not an invalid, as you wanted to remind me, and I've been careful about salt today. I'm feeling fit as can be during the day when I listen to the doctor and you."

  "Yes, Sir." Holding his breath, Michael dropped his shoulders to portray an air of relaxation, even if Jason's comment reminded him of his less submissive behavior around medical stuff.

  "Are you fibbing at me?" Jason growled in an undertone.

  Michael released his breath and let his head fall forward. "Not trying to fib but to please." He licked his lips.

  "I want you to eat some of these as well."

  "Yes, Sir." Accepting the serving tongs from Jason, Michael scooped up the layers of the nachos and eased them onto his plate. "I wouldn't have expected them to have nachos among their appetizers."

  "This place is nice, but they don't think too highly of themselves. Our friends did a good job getting us this gift." Jason scooped up some refried beans and a bite sized strip of steak with a chip.

  Hate, hate, hate these pants and plug paired. They make me feel too much. Michael rubbed his eyes and covered his mouth as his mouth stretched open with a big yawn.

  "You aren't too tired to enjoy your dinner, are you?" Jason teased.

  "No, Sir, although I'm sure I'll sleep good when we get home."

  Jason leaned forward to whisper, "So I won't have to tan your hide before you can get to sleep like Christmas eves past?"

  "But our stockings, Sir?" Michael blinked his eyes at the tears rapidly collecting in the corners of his eyes.

  "Of course, stockings first. I'm not a humbug, am I?"

  "No, Sir." Michael took a sip of his wine to steady himself. I filled Master's stocking yesterday and didn't see mine.

  "You know I enjoy trading filled stockings just as much as you."

  "Sir? I need to go to the bathroom," Michael whispered.

  Jason arched an eyebrow and Michael flashed his index finger close to his plate. "You may go."

  Okay, they'll have stalls. I can do this. Michael hurried across the dining room and toward the bathroom alcove. As he passed through the door leading to the men's room, he released a sigh. He didn't say anything, any rules for this. He slipped into a stall. With shaking hands, he undid his pants and let them fall to his ankles. How do these come down again? He lifted the laces out of his panties and loosened them. He eased the shiny black fabric down until the top seam rested against his upp
er thighs. Swallowing hard, he willed his erection to go down. He pressed his palm against the plug's base before lowering his aching body to the toilet seat. Just need to pee. I can do this.

  The bathroom door noisily swung open.

  Michael sat quietly, his business done. He moved the plug just a few centimeters so it pressed less directly on his prostate. The sink turned on as the other man hummed to himself. Hopefully our entrees have been served. Remember, I wanted to have public play again. It's been so long since we even did this type of thing, this dinner that doesn't really qualify as a scene. Holding the plug's base and squeezing his anal muscles, he struggled to stand in front of the toilet. He breathed in until his lungs burned from the oxygen before releasing. After the door opened and closed, he he leaned over to dig in his pants pocket for the powder. He sprinkled some into the pouch and over his cock. He set the powder on a shelf before wiping his hands on some toilet paper. Then he focused on tightening and retying the laces. He tucked his shirt back into his dress pants before doing them back up. Finally he slipped the small bottle of powder back into his pants pocket.

  Back at the table, he slipped into his seat and lifted his gaze to Jason's face. "Sir?"

  "Good boy," Jason murmured. "Eat up." he gestured at the steaming food in front of Michael.

  A string quartet started to set up their music stands and instruments in an open space a few yards from their table.

  Feeling his emotions rise into his throat, Michael lifted his fist to wipe his eyes. Jason grabbed his other hand and he smiled softly. "Sir, I—"

  "Would like music to go to sleep to tonight?" Jason finished.

  "Please, Sir."

  "Maybe something Christmas-y? I did find something special for you."

  Michael clapped his hands together. "Oh something special!" He laughed. "That was kinda flaming. Thanks so much." He sniffed and let go of Jason's hand before grabbing his steak knife and fork. "I decided on just two types of cookies this year, Sir."

  "That's very good." Jason took a bite of his steak.

  I can tease with asparagus. Michael stabbed one tender asparagus shoot with his fork and sucked its length between his lips.

  Jason's grin showed at the corners of his eyes as he chewed.

  When the asparagus melted against his tongue, Michael swallowed. "I remembered both types of gravy that you like, Sir."

  With his cock pressing painfully against his tight underwear, Michael fought down groans when Jason brushed the rounded tip of his dress shoes against his knee. I teased first. He leaned onto one ass cheek, trying to relieve some of the pressure from sitting on the plug, even if the chair was super soft.

  "Almost as good as you." Jason waved his fork at his half-eaten steak.

  Michael bit his lip. "Thanks, Sir." His nipples rubbed uncomfortably against the inside of his linen shirt. "I'm glad they don't have a dress code here that demands a tie."

  Jason traced the head of an asparagus across his full lower lip. "Have your thoughts changed on getting a piercing?"

  "A piercing?"

  "I imagine, underneath a tie and a dress shirt," Jason purred.

  With a cough, Michael placed his fork on his plate. If it would please Sir, maybe. "I think, um, it'd be nice. Sir."

  "Yes, I'd like another glass of wine," Jason said when Jack stopped beside their table.

  Jack leaned over the table and in a slightly lowered voice, he giggled, "You two are the cutest." He looked to Michael and continued, "You are one lucky boy."

  Michael nodded, his lips pressed together. Well it's probably his gaydar letting him read this. "Thanks," he muttered.

  "You're not already too full, are you?" Jason grinned when Michael's cheeks burst out in a hard blush.

  "No, Sir. I... have more... room," Michael stammered.

  Jason dug into his baked potato and left Michael to his squirming.

  Where could he have hidden my stocking this year? I swear I'm more worried than the first year we did a stocking exchange. I really don't think I can eat anymore. But Sir is waiting on me to eat more. Maybe I can take this home and snack as I'm making dinner happen tomorrow? Michael pinched the bridge of his nose to slow his overwrought thoughts. He enjoyed his last piece of asparagus before considering the rest of his steak and his untouched potato. Chewing on the inside of his lip, he kept in the moans that surfaced when Jason's foot returned to nudging him, moving from his knee and continuing upward. I'm so glad I'm not in a dress.

  Jason gazed at Michael as he momentarily settled.

  "Did you know, Sir?" Michael worried his bottom lip with his teeth as the low, first notes of Pachelbel's "Canon" echoed through the room.

  "Would you accept this dance?"

  "Please, Sir." Our first dance as a legally married couple, I was also plugged. Michael accepted Jason's help to stand before struggling to keep up with his dom's longer strides to the small dance floor.

  Jason gathered Michael close, his arm wrapped around his waist. "For always."

  "For always," Michael agreed before resting his cheek on Jason's shoulder. He basked in his love's warmth as they danced in slow circles with the music. He closed his eyes and let himself be led. I could almost safeword from the perfection of this moment. I wouldn't haven't imagined this wonderful life in my wildest dreams in Kentucky.

  "I was surprised when you picked it for our first dance as husbands, but it really is so fitting." Jason pressed his hand into the small of Michael's back. "Do you think it'll be awkward to see our friends tomorrow after tonight?"

  "I don't think so. I hope I invited the right friends in, Sir." Taking a step after Jason, Michael held in a gasp when his movement jiggled the plug in a most provoking way.

  Jason pressed his lips against Michael's ear. "Are those panties making it difficult to be hard?"

  Michael nodded.

  "Do you want your Christmas stocking or an orgasm first?"

  Unfair! "Stocking first please, Sir."

  "Do you think I'll leave you plugged for stockings?"

  "Umm... maybe? I'd beg for relief, even if orgasm has to wait, Sir."

  "I think I could be merciful." Jason twirled them in a circle.

  "Please, Sir," Michael whined. I wasn't ready for this type of play, not around vanillas. His body throbbed around the plug. It's as if I wasn't allowed to come earlier.

  "This is what I want." Jason arched an eyebrow. "One word if this is too much."

  Michael shook his head. "The song's almost done and I was thinking maybe I wanted to take the rest of my food home."

  "You were thinking?" Jason challenged.

  Right. My eating. "I would like to take the rest of my food home, Sir."

  "Good boy." He hugged Michael. "We can do that."

  The violinist played the song's last note.

  Jason led Michael back to their table. "Finish your wine." He waved at Jack as their waiter re-entered the dining room.

  Taking a long, last swallow, Michael watched Jason talk to Jack.

  "No dessert, thanks. We have Christmas stockings waiting for us," Jason said.

  "I can only imagine what your socks hold," Jack replied, giggling.

  Michael reached carefully under the table to adjust his hard cock as he could within the confining underwear. He swallowed as the sensations that filled him.

  "Do you want to beg for stockings while still plugged or not?"

  "Not, please, Sir."

  "You'll beg in the car for me."

  "Yes, Sir."

  At Home, in Their Bedroom

  "Please, Master. Sir. Please." Michael rested himself from his stomach up on the end of their bed.

  "You said you wanted to do Christmas stockings before orgasm," Jason taunted.

  Michael gripped the comforter. "Please, please." His feet pushed into the carpet as Jason moved the anal plug inside him.

  "I shouldn't leave this in too much longer since we didn't use a hollow plug. Will you be able to get aroused again and ready for your orga
sm if you do something less sexual?"

  I've missed this. So much. "Yes, Sir. Just being close to you."

  "I'm so lucky you still find me attractive over these years." Jason traced his fingers around the base of the plug, his heat stroking Michael's ass.

  "Why wouldn't I, Sir? You've been my dream since we met."

  Jason eased the plug out of Michael, dragging out ragged moans during the entire slow process. "I'm going to go wash this and make us mugs of hot chocolate to enjoy. Marshmallows or no?"

  "Please, marshmallows, Sir." Can't come on the bed without permission.

  "Finish undressing and put your clothes in the hamper. Then you can pick a fun sleep shirt for stockings."

  "Thanks, Sir." Michael waited as Jason's steps sounded in the hallway. Won't take care of myself, even if I've gotten into that bad habit with Sir's depression. He pressed his toes into the carpet again only to feel something fabric that didn't belong. With his body still aching from various torments and pleasures of the evening, he sank to his knees to find one of Sam's socks. He sighed as he made his halting way to a stand and carried the sock to their dresser.

  The microwave beep echoed from their kitchen.

  Michael unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it into the wicker hamper. He chewed on his bottom lip when his fingers brushed over his nipples. Pierced? Am I too old for that? Not if Jason thinks I'm not. He moved to his sleepwear drawer. Wearing a giddy grin, he selected his navy blue shirt with Woodstock wearing a Santa hat on it. He slipped the fuzzy garment on and then looked into the hallway, his brow furrowed. He shook his head, pushed his hands under his silk underwear to grab Jason's Christmas stocking.

  Carrying two steaming mugs, Jason ordered, "Put my stocking on the headboard." Once the mugs rested on coaster, he flipped back their comforter to show the sheets. "Your stocking, boy." He pulled Michael's Snoopy stocking out from behind the large oxygen machine and held it out to Michael. "My love."

  A moment of shock that Jason would have anything to do with the machine released into Michael's delighted squeals. He dumped the stocking's contents onto their bed. Moving easier having been unplugged and un-pantsed with his erection having softened, he settled onto the bed to study his loot. Several new sex toys, all still in their plastic packaging, so they took up more space. A new pair of sparkling, stainless steel clamps. He hugged himself as his nightshirt settled around him.