Silent Night, Burning Desire

The scent of pine and simmering cinnamon hung heavy in the air, battling with the sharp, biting chill seeping through the cracks in the enormous windows. Red and green lights twinkled from the doorway of the spacious living room, casting dancing shadows across the plush Persian rug. Silver and gold glittered from the heavy-laden boughs of the seven-foot Christmas tree, its branches laden with a profusion of ornaments. A cheerful fire crackled in the great stone hearth, sending a plume of smoke curling upwards towards the intricately painted ceiling.

Keri turned away from the big picture window, as a log fell from the grate, lifting a fantastic spray of sparks for her entertainment. The heat radiating from the hearth warmed her skin, a welcome contrast to the icy air that swirled around the house. She stepped to the fireplace, using the brass poker to stir the embers below, glancing worriedly at the grandfather clock in the corner. Its rhythmic tick-tock seemed to amplify the silence, a palpable tension filling the room.

“Where are you Craig?” she wondered aloud, her voice barely a whisper above the crackling flames. The thought of his absence, a sudden, unsettling void, gnawed at her. He was always punctual, dependable, a constant in her life. This unexpected delay was entirely out of character.

Just as she was about to pick up the phone and call his cell, yet again, a pair of bright headlights turned up their drive, the tires of their blue SUV crunching on the snow. The lights clicked off, the engine died. She watched as her husband hopped down from the truck, stamping the ice from the cleats of his boots as he climbed the stairs to the porch. Nervously, she smoothed her ensemble, a mesh netting negligee of bright red, with white imitation “fur” along her creamy breasts, tiny spaghetti straps came together to tie behind her neck. It was a daring choice, pushing the boundaries of her usual style, a calculated move to entice him, to remind him of the passionate connection they shared.

She had swept her hair into a loose cascade of curls; some of them had carelessly spilled around her throat, teasing her hard, tight nipples. She wasn’t usually this daring, but tonight, she felt a desperate need to reclaim the intimacy they’d lost, a primal urge to feel desired, to be the object of his intense gaze. She wasn’t going to wait for him to come to her; she would make sure he knew she was there, waiting, and eager. She couldn’t wait to see his face, to feel the heat of his presence, to lose herself in the intoxicating scent of him.

She fidgeted by the door as he fitted the key inside, working the ice away from the lock with gloved fingers. The cold metal bit into her skin, a sharp reminder of the harsh winter outside. Finally, the door opened, bringing with it a gust of frigid air and blowing snow.

Kari shivered, picking up the fluted goblet of pink champagne. “Hi Honey.” Craig closed the door, turning to greet his wife. His mouth dropped open. His lovely bride of four years, stood before him in very revealing negligee, her long golden curls caught up in pins atop her head. He accepted the offered kiss, too stunned to reciprocate, his big fingers wrapping around the glass in his hand. It was an awkward, hesitant embrace, a silent acknowledgment of the strange, unsettling turn their evening had taken.

Kari grinned. She liked the response she was getting. Slowly doing a little turn before him, she dropped a curtsy, knowing full well that this exposed her breasts to his feasting eyes. “You like?” she asked, stepping closer to him, helping him out of the snow dusted coat. The silk of his coat brushed against her skin, sending a shiver of anticipation through her.

“Uh, yeah. I do. Where’d you get that?” He managed to stammer out, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and arousal.

“Uh uh- my lil’ secret. Now. Have you been good this year?” she asked, dropping to her knees before her husband, her hands clasped together in front of her. The scent of his cologne, a familiar blend of sandalwood and musk, filled her senses, intensifying her desire.

“Um. Hmmm, Oh Hon!” He responded, his voice thick with emotion.

She cupped the growing bulge in his work stained blue jeans, pressing and releasing, knowing this was driving him wild. The denim felt rough against her palms, but she didn't care. She was determined to tease him, to push him to the edge, to savor every moment of his mounting pleasure.

“You keep that up and I can’t guarantee what happens,” Craig warned with a heavy-laden gaze, his eyes dark with passion. His words hung in the air, a silent promise of the delights to come.

“Really?” She smiled up at him, that silly mischievous smile he lived for. “Maybe I want to see what happens.” Her voice was soft, laced with a playful invitation.

With that, she brought her hands up to his zipper, drawing it down. His penis leapt from the confines of the candy cane boxers, she had bought him for Christmas last year. She grinned. And he said he’d never wear them. The memory of his initial reaction, his mortified expression, still made her chuckle. It was a small victory, a tangible sign of her control.

Before he could react to the relief of being set free of the rough jeans, she had touched her tongue to his head. He jerked. “Oh baby, that feels so good,” he moaned, trying to keep his footing as she swirled her tongue down the shaft and back up again. Then she took his entire length in her hot mouth, working him in and out, using her tongue to pleasure the underside of his penis. Fondling his heavy package with gentle fingers. She looked up as she made love to the most sensitive part of him. He was losing control, she could tell, his fingers tangled in her curls, his head thrown back, occasionally sneaking a glance at her.

“My turn,” he said in a shaky voice, putting his hands on her shoulders so that she understood.

Kari walked across the room, her body throbbing for what was to come. She had laid out blankets on the floor, hours before and stretched out now across the mound of soft pillows. He dropped down beside her, kissing her forehead, her face, her lips. He made his way down her body, kissing his way as he went, from her bare shoulders to her breasts, revealed by the clingy lingerie. He pressed a kiss, intermingled with a stroke of his tongue on her stomach, visible thru the mesh. She writhed on the floor.

Finally he reached her vagina, fighting for control when he found her very wet. Without bothering to undo the single row of snaps holding the outfit together, he swept his fingers deep inside her, hearing her whimper. As he thrust in and out of her, he simulated the same movements on her clitoris with his tongue, suckling her into his mouth, knowing this would get her going. Fondling her swollen clitoris with gentle fingers. She clutched at his shoulders, breathing hard as the powerful climax overtook her.

He cradled her head, drawing her close as he pumped his seed into her vagina. Completely spent, he rolled off of her, gathering her against his side, kissing her, thanking her. Stroking her hair off her damp forehead.

“I Love you Mrs. Bennett,” he sighed into her ear, drawing circles on her smooth hip.

Kari caught his hand bringing it to her lips, pressing a kiss there. “Ummm, and I love you Mr. Bennett. Merry Christmas!” The words tasted like passion and fulfillment.

“Merry Christmas darling”

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Silent Night, Burning Desire

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