Just a whimsical flash story done LW style.
As it was every year, "the night" was again long, cold, grueling and... yes, amazing. He was tired, as was his team.
He checked his watch. Damn, he was about two hours earlier than usual. The weather was good, and for most of the journey he had a tailwind.
As he circled for landing, he spotted another sleigh in his spot in the driveway.
Although he didn't recognize whose vehicle it was, he knew what that meant.
"Fucking whore!" he muttered under his breath.
After watering and bedding down the team, he quietly entered the house. An album of Christmas carols by Nat King Cole was on the turntable.
"God, that guy could croon," the big man thought to himself as he silently ascended the stairs toward the hushed sounds coming out of the master bedroom.
"Are you close? We've only got a little more than an hour 'til he gets back," he heard his wife, Carole, say to her lover.
"A... few... more... minutes," the lover responded. "God, I love fucking your ass!"
The big man froze in his tracks. His wife had never let him have her ass - never.
"Son of a bitch!" he muttered again.