Lil’ Miss Mistletoe

Shadows dance around the room from the glow of the fireplace burning fiercely. My body burns too, waiting for his return. It’s cold here but I don’t feel the chill. Snow covers the earth but I’m ablaze with passionate desire. The man I love will be home soon, eagerly anticipated by all but none as much as myself.

After a long, hard night of travel and work, I want to welcome my love home with a pleasant surprise. I want to offer myself to him to do with what he will. The thought creates a shudder deep within my soul. Body twitches and droplets of my womanly nectar escape in preparation. I want his hands on me. I want him to trace his hands along my exposed shoulders and the tops of my breasts, to feel him run his fingers through my long brown hair, gripping the back of my head, pulling me close. His lips will touch mine in a cinnamon sweet embrace and like a snowflake; I will melt in to his arms.

My body is wrapped for him, a gift he will eagerly unwrap. Red velvet, his favourite, contours each bountiful curve of my form. Black tights and black high heeled, high thigh boots I know will drive him wild. His rosy cheeks will burn bright, his eyes will twinkle not with the spirit of the season but with pure male desire and his sweet little belly will not shake like jelly but will quiver under his heaving breaths.

I stare in to the flames roaring in the fireplace heart filled with longing for my love. How much our love has been like these flames. For centuries it has burned and never turned cold for long ago we bound ourselves together, frozen in time, knowing that a love that lasts is not finding the perfect person, but seeing an imperfect person perfectly and that is what he is to me, perfect.

Bells ring in the distance and the sound of little voices fill the night air. My heart leaps, breath slows. He is home! I’m ready for him. I want him. I love him. His footsteps fall heavy, crushing the snow underneath. The footsteps get closer. My heart leaps, nervous like the first time. The door opens letting in a gust of cold arctic wind. Snow twirls around the threshold. Pulse quickens, knees get weak. I steady myself against the fireplace. My entire being wants this man, mind, body and soul. I start to quiver, not from the cold but from my own intense desire. I can’t wait any longer. I need him, to feel him against me, inside me, surrounding me.

Out of the cold, his big looming form fills the door frame. I feel myself smile as I take in his image, his snow covered boots, his heavy red and white suit, his strong arms, his warm loving eyes. Dropping his heavy bag on the floor he slams the door shut against the wind. He sees me now. Looking me up and down his jolly smile curls in to a devilish smirk. Our eyes lock. My insides twitch and throb.

Without a word my love crosses the wooden floor towards me, his heavy steps keeping time with my pounding heart. In one swift motion I am lifted off the ground in to his strong, loving arms. His kiss leaves me breathless. My head swims under his magical touch. I wrap my legs around him, his kiss becoming more intense. He presses my back against the wall, running his hands over my curves as his lips continue down my neck and across the top of my chest. Our bodies rub against each other igniting our passions. I ache for him, needing him more urgently, wanting him more intimately.

As though reading my thoughts, he lifts me off the wall holding me with little effort and lays me gently on the rug in front of the fire. Gazing at me silently his eyes sparkle in the light of the fire, his love and desire apparent. He smiles softly running his hand down the center of the soft velvety fabric enveloping his Christmas gift. Heat from his loving touch penetrates my body. I exhale heavily, eyes closed, falling deeper and deeper under his spell. My heart flutters when I open my eyes again and see him still gazing at me so lovingly, as though he has never seen anything more beautiful in all his life. I melt.
Removing his heavy jacket, he straddles my hips, hand cupping my burning hot face. I feel like a young girl lying with her lover for the first time. This is how he makes me feel all the time. Slowly he kisses my parted lips, my nose, my forehead, then pulls back slowly, our eyes locking in silent conversation, our mutual desire apparent. My body tingles under his touch and I know tonight will be special.

I pull myself slightly off the floor, kissing his rosy cheeks, his lips, and his nose. He giggles sweetly. The smile on my face will not fade. I’m ablaze with love and passion for this man, the man I have been waiting on all night and I can tell he’s been waiting for me, each moment of his long journey bringing him closer to home.

Our eyes meet again. My love is here, “Welcome home Santa.”