Christmas Carol

“Mi corazón,” I growl, eventually the words turning into one long moan. I fill the condom with so much cum that it’s a miracle the damn thing doesn’t bust. Even as I’m coming and long after, I’m still sloppily thrusting inside of her. Carol’s pussy belongs to me now, and I’ll never let anyone else have it. I’m damn reluctant to leave her, but when I look down into the eyes of the woman who owns me, I do.

“There’s no going back now, my beautiful Carol.”

“I never want to,” she gasps. “I never want to be without you, Cyrus.”

Her confession fills me with as much happiness as her body filled me with pleasure.

My Carol really is a Christmas miracle.

I go to the restroom to dispose of the condom and come back with a warm cloth cleaning her up gently. I place a small kiss against her swollen and well-loved clit, then toss the cloth across the room and crawl on the bed beside her.

“Are you okay, mi corazón?”

“I’m so good. I’m really tired all at once, but I’m scared to go to sleep in case it was all a dream,” she confesses.

“Take a nap and when you wake up in my arms, I’ll prove to you that none of this is a dream, sweetheart.”

She hums her answer, but she snuggles into me. She falls asleep quickly, proving I’ve worn her body out. I lay awake listening to her sleep, thinking that it took a fuck of a lot of years, but somehow Carol has made life…. Good.Carol“I’m stuffed,” Cyrus groans, as we pull out on the main road. We’re just leaving my sister’s after sharing a great Thanksgiving feast. It was the best holiday that I can remember, and I know the reason for that is the fact that Cyrus joined in. He had fun too. We even made him help with the cooking—well, things he just had to heat up in the microwave. My Cyrus is a man of many talents, but not at cooking.

My Cyrus.

I smile at the thought. He is mine. Since that night in my house where he made me his in every way imaginable, we haven’t spent a night apart. These last couple of weeks have been magic. We’re living in my house and I love that when I wake up he’s there. I even love that his toothbrush is beside mine on the bathroom counter. I really love that he’s been getting me daisies every Friday for no other reason than he just wants to make me smile. I love everything about Cyrus.

“Earth to Carol,” Cyrus teases and I look up at him. He’s smiling at me and gives me a playful wink, before turning his attention back to the road.

“Sorry, I was thinking.”

“About what, mi corazón?”

“How perfect the last couple of weeks has been. And even Thanksgiving. It’s all better this year. He brings our joined hands together and kisses the top of mine and I grin at him, so happy that tears sting my eyes, but I hold them back. “Oh! Take that road, Cyrus.”

“This one?” he asks, staring doubtfully at the graveled road on the right.

“Yep!” I command, excited to share something special with him. It’s a pipe dream that will never happen. It’s definitely silly, but I still want to show him. He takes the exit and I do what I always do when I get on this road, I lose myself in the long trail of holly trees that line the road, and the rolling fields on each side.

“What is this place?” Cyrus asks, looking around.

“My dream home,” I breathe.

“Carol, mi corazón, it’s empty fields and a graveled driveway that leads nowhere,” he laughs. “There is no home.”

“There could be,” I argue. If I win the lottery before someone buys the property. “Can’t you just see it, Cyrus? A big farmhouse with lots of bedrooms? There’s lots of space for planting and raising your own vegetables and fruit trees. You could even have your own pond. I’d never admit it to Krissy, but I love her pond. I’d want swans, though. Every pond should have swans.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” he says with a smile stopping the car. We get out almost at the same time and the minute I close the car door and stand up outside, I take a deep breath, bringing the air into my lungs. For some weird reason, the air always seemed cleaner here.

“Yeah, I have. I haven’t shared it with anyone, though. It’s a silly dream. I love my house, but this has definitely become my happy place.”

“Maybe, I should show you my happy place and we can share each other’s together,” Cyrus suggests.

“Where’s your happy place?” I ask, wanting to know. My question turns into a squeal as he lifts me up and sits me on the hood of my car. We had to bring my Toyota Rava, because it’s able to handle the snow on the roads. Cyrus really needs a different vehicle at this point.