Page 13 of A Constant Christmas

“Good point,” she says before taking a bite of a strawberry.

“So, what do you want to do today, beautiful?” I ask before laying a soft kiss on her shoulder.

“Honestly?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I want to put this fruit away. Then, I want to get out the greasiest, fattiest, most delicious junk food we can find and make an entire buffet of it while we lay on the couch. Then, I want to watch Christmas movies all day while we eat it all and snuggle and laugh. Then, I want to go get in that deliciously wonderful hot tub before you take me to bed and fuck my brains out all night long. How does that sound? Because if you really want to go do something we can. It’s just that at home, I never get the chance to just be lazy and do nothing, and…”

I love it when she rambles, but I cut her off. “Hey, I think that those plans sound perfect. As long as I am here with you, I don’t care what we do.”

She gives me a cheesy wide smile, and I can certainly see where our daughters get it from. They are sometimes so much like their mother it’s insane.

We put the fruit away and grab every item of junk food we can find…chips, candy, snack cakes. And, there are a bunch of frozen goodies in the freezer that we get out to bake in the oven…jalapeno poppers, loaded potato skins, and mozzarella sticks. I preheat the oven and tell her to go flip on the TV and find us some good Christmas movies to watch.

She hurries off, and I can see the bottom of her ass playing peek-a-boo under the shirt, and my dick is already half-hard again. Then again, my dick is usually always half-hard when she is around.

Sam has always been sexy, and when we first started dating, she had no idea of that fact. She would wear oversized t-shirts and ill-fitting jeans in hopes that no one would look at her too closely, but I immediately saw right through it and saw that there was so much more to her.

Through our years together, her body has changed, becoming a bit curvier. Her breasts have gotten bigger due to having three kids. And her hips are slightly wider, and she may have a few stretch marks on her belly that weren’t once there. But to me, all of those things make her more beautiful.

Her appearance changed from having our three beautiful babies. She carried them around for nine months (two of them at the same time), and I am completely envious of her body and all that it has done. I think she is the most beautiful as she has ever been. She’ll never believe me when I say that to her, but it’s the truth. She still gets my blood pumping as much as she did our very first night together. My attraction for her is not something that can be so easily swayed by the gaining of a few pounds. It’s ever-lasting. I’ll be chasing her around when we are 80 still trying to get into her panties…granny panties or not.

Tonight, when we aren’t in such a hurry to get to the main event, I intend to show her just how beautiful she is to me and erase every doubt in her mind that she isn’t sexy to me.

“I found one,” she beams, walking back into the kitchen.

“Which one?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You picked Christmas Vacation again, didn’t you?”

She looks appalled. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Because it’s your favorite Christmas movie of all time, and you watch it approximately 18 times each year. I’m pretty sure I can quote the movie in its entirety,” I say with a laugh.

“Well, I haven’t gotten to watch it at all this year. Besides, it’s a surprise as to what we are watching. I think someone is about to eat some crow.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smirks. “Hey, do you think maybe you can text your sister and see how they’re doing? It would make me feel better and able to relax if I knew.”

“Sure,” I say, surprised that she made it this long without asking.

Pulling out my phone, I type:

Hey, you guys still alive?

A moment later, it pings with:

We are fine. The girls are playing outside with Alexander, and I am feeding Jonathan lunch. That was your one text for the day, Wendell. We will talk to you tomorrow.

With a small laugh, I hand it over to Sam, so that she can see it for herself.

After reading it over, she says, “Okay, okay, maybe I’m worrying a little too much.”

Pulling her toward me, I wrap my arm around her shoulder. “That’s what good moms do.”

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