Big fat flakes of snow are falling past the dark window, lit up by the warm light from the kitchen. You watch them as the wind blows them into little dances before they fall gently onto the sill. Quiet Christmas music is playing in the background, and the occasional snap and crackle from the fireplace reaches your ears.
"It is so beautiful outside" you think to yourself, looking out the window. "I do so love it when it snows, especially on Christmas Eve!"
You can feel the tension slowly leaving your shoulders as you mentally check things off your list.
"Dinner prepped and ready to go for tomorrow. Check. House clean, kids clean and in bed, presents all wrapped, presents under the tree, check, check, check and check!" you think to yourself. "Now all I have to do is finish icing these cookies and I'm all done!"
You hum to yourself happily as you pull the last tray of cookies out of the oven and put them on a cooling rack so you can ice them. Grabbing the decorator's bag full of red Santa hat icing, you start in on the last dozen or so cookies.
"Those cookies are really beautiful Hels," says Jim coming into the kitchen with a smile, "You definitely have a gift for icing cookies!"
"Aww, thanks hon. Are the girls finally asleep?" you ask.
Wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, Jim says, "Yes finally! It took a bit, but they finally settled down and couldn't keep their eyes open anymore. They're so cute all snuggled up in their beds."
"Good job love! It is going to be a long day tomorrow, and they'll need all the sleep they can get!"
You put the finishing powder puff of white on the tip of a Santa hat with a flourish. "These are nearly done too. It's the last thing on my todo list for tonight!"
Pulling you into him with his strong arms Jim whispers into your ear, "Are you sure thats the last thing on your list? I can think of at least one other thing you still have to do tonight."
Your icing falters just a bit as his warm breath tickles your ear, and your body flushes to his bedroom voice.
"Oh?" you ask nonchalantly, trying to act like nothing other than icing cookies is going on, "And what would that be?"
"Me!" he says and pulls your hips tight against him, his hardness pressing up against your bottom.
"Oh that! Well maybe later if you're good," you say mischievously, "Mrs Claus still has cookies to finish!"
"Hmmm.. well if you must, you must. I'll just wait here till you're done." Jim says with a grin, grinding his hips against you. "You won't even know I'm here."
His hands start to wander up your back as you lean over to ice another cookie, gently massaging your tired muscles with his strong fingers through your blouse. Reaching your neck, the dextrous fingers feather lightly across your skin, along sensitive area around the nape of your neck. You pause for a minute to enjoy the sensations, your body starting to get warm from his touch. His hands work their way back down.
Jim's hands slide across your hips and start up the sides this time, but sneakily work inside the fabric of your top. His hands are almost hot as they rub their way up your skin. You can feel the trail of their passing. As he works higher, he is slowly pushing your blouse up, exposing more and more of your skin. You jump uncontrollably as his hot lips touch your skin at the base of your spine.
"Hey mister! What do you think you're doing? I've got cookies to finish!"
"Well, I know for a fact that Mrs Claus likes boys from the naughty list." Jim says between kisses placed one above the other, following the fabric of your blouse up to your shoulders.
"Well! I think you're quite mistaken! Mrs Claus is not that kind of girl!" and you try to ignore him in mock protest as his hands finally reach your shoulder blades.
"I see," he replies with feigned disappointment. "So you're saying Mrs Claus would not like this?"
His hands reach around in front and cup your breasts gently. Lifting them up he kneads them through your bra for a moment or two. Your nipples react immediately, changing from soft to hard in an instant. His clever fingers pop open the front clasp of your bra, and the soft globes spring free into his hands. He catches your sensitive nipples between his finger and thumb and twists them gently, sending ripples of pleasure down your body.
"Definitely not!" you say, a small gasp escaping your lips.