His Christmas Cookie

“I love you, kiska,” I say, tightening my arms around her, and we look at the lights on the tree.

“I love you too.” I can hear the sleepy sound in her voice, and I smile as I kiss her neck.

“Do you want to sleep out here tonight?” She shakes her head, and I thrust a little. “Shall I make love to you again?” My accent is thick, and she clenches around me when she hears it.

“Maybe after a nap?” Her mouth says one thing, but her body is telling me something different.

“Anything your heart desires.”

She rocks her hips, and before long I’m pumping into her, hard and steady. Our children might be growing up, but some traditions will always remain the same. I will always spend Christmas Eve making love to my wife, and that’s a tradition that will never change.* * *THE END