“Hun, decorate the tree with me?”
“Pass.”
“Why?”
“Not feelin’ Christmassy.”
While he fondles the remote, I fondle balls before hanging.
Hot cocoa beckons, so I dip a nip, then lift and lick. Mmmm. Peppermint follows; I slurp the stick before it slips inside my Christmas cunty.
I spy a twinkle in his eye, then a twitch in his pants.
He’s on me like icing on a cookie, withdrawing my candy cane, and giving it a taste. Next, he grunts, “Fa… la… la,” with each thrust of his pole.
Balls-deep in Christmas Spirit, he howls, “Merry Christmas to all!”
