by C. M. Steele
“Do you want to go back to bed?” I ask, but I have no intention of actually going back to sleep.
“I don’t think I can fall asleep so easily,” she sighs.
“Oh, I know a way to relax you,” I growl.
“Please,” she begs, nipping on my earlobe before sucking it between her teeth and dragging her lips down my neck. She can still turn me into a nut after all these years. I stand up, carrying her to bed, then set her on the mattress. Her plushy red robe falls open, revealing a red tank top and red panties. A deep rumble of possessive need rips through my chest as I stare at my woman. I know we have to be quick, but I love taking my time running my hands and tongue all over her soft, pale flesh. I climb my way up, grabbing the waistband of my pajama pants and shoving them off. My dick bobs off the mattress and hits my stomach, catching my wife’s hungry eyes. “Oh sweetheart, if you suck me off, I’ll be done before we get started.”
“Maybe, I want my own personal candy cane. It’s Christmas after all.”
“Oh, you’ll get it later, but right now, I want to make baby number four.” She bites her lip and slides the robe off, tossing it off the bed. I trace my way up her thigh with my tongue, tasting her until I reach her red panties. “These have to go.” I grab the edge and tear. She doesn’t even get angry anymore. It gives her a reason to shop. I wink at her, then press my face to her slick heat, licking her slit. I could do this all day. I thrust a finger inside, coaxing her before sucking on her little pearl that demands attention. She cries out shoving her hands in my hair and riding my face until she collapses onto the bed. I’m not done, and I know she isn’t either. Like a boxer, she’s just getting started and up before the ten-count. Moving up, I kneel at her entrance, my cock poised to claim her.
She lifts her head with a smile on her face. “I love to watch you take me,” she admits.
“I know you like to see my thick, ten-inch cock disappear in your sweet little cunt. Look how I stretch you out. I’m going to fill you up until we’re both coming, and you give me another baby.” She moans, clenching the sheets tightly her abs taut as she leans back on her elbows and watches me claim her pussy. We both let out a groan, stilling to feel the moment. Then I lean down pushing her back onto the mattress and taking her mouth in a deep, consuming kiss.
She clings to me, wrapping her legs around my waist and digging her heels into my ass. Over and over, I pump into her wet core, staking her to the bed. Needing to have her complete bared to me. I raise up and pull her top off, revealing her spectacular tits that have grown with each kid. They are bigger and fuller, and I wonder if I already knocked her up. My hand teases the right while I suck in her rigid nipple, then rotating to show them equal love. My balls can’t handle any more of her sexiness. I’m going to come. “You need to come with me,” I demand, reaching down between us and pressing on her clit while my mouth slams on hers.
I roar against her lips as I come and feel her walls strangle my cock as she joins me. Her cries are muted by my mouth. I lean down, supporting my weight on my elbows. We kiss over and over. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Fuller,” I whisper.
“Merry Christmas, husband.” I stay like that, staring at her beauty for another minute. I pull out and run into the bathroom and prepare the shower for her. I’m not done with her just yet, but the kids will be up soon. And I still have to give her my special candy cane. I’m one lucky bastard. We both wash, but she takes the soap from me and begins to slowly clean off my body, stroking my cock with her soft hands until I was stiff as fuck. She rinses me off before taking me down deep, sucking me dry. I shake, clinging to the wall as I come down her slender throat.
Just as we get dressed and climb into bed, our two oldest boys come running into our bedroom. “It’s Christmas,” they scream.
“Okay, let me go get your brother.” I leave the room and get Riley from his crib. Once I change him, I carry him down to meet the kids and my stunning wife around the tree. My parents will be over for dinner tonight along with James and his family, but right now, it’s time for the boys to open all their gifts.
Later on, after picking up bags of wrapping paper and building toys, we sit around the tree having hot cocoa and watching a Christmas movie. My oldest son Ryan asks Rebecca, “Mom, do you want a candy cane with your hot chocolate?”
“No, sweetie, I already had one today.”
“But there’s still the twelve on the tree. I counted them,” my second oldest, Richard says.
“Daddy gave mommy a special candy cane this morning—one only for her,” I add, trying to hold back a laugh.
“Lucky,” Ryan mutters, snatching one off the tree.
“Yes, I am,” Rebecca says with a smirk.
“I’m the lucky one,” I add, kissing her for the millionth time. “Christmas gets better and better every year.”
THE END