Page 11 of Mountain Man's Merry Grumpmas
She wiggles her eyebrows at me. "Well, that dick came in handy later that night, so win-win."
I kiss her hard, moaning as my cock strains against my pants, ready to be buried deep inside my favorite place on earth.
Monroe pulls back, unbuckling her seatbelt. "I've got a suitcase full of nighties. Are you sure you can handle me this weekend?"
"Get inside," I growl.
Monroe's laugh hits me straight in the heart. I like to hear it multiple times a day. But then she shakes her head at me. "Nope. First, we're putting the tree up."
This year, we've decided to go a little more festive and start our own traditions together. We stopped in Duhring Park on our way up the mountain and visited with Scarlett, Levi, our nephew, and brand new little niece.
I reached out earlier this year and apologized for messing with their lives so many years ago. Scarlett cried and then informed me it was because of pregnancy hormones, which made Monroe cry. They've been best friends ever since, and I'm grateful to have a relationship with all the people I love again.
Today is Christmas Eve, so we dropped off presents for the kids, and Monroe was able to visit with her friends, Cora and Addy. She's gotten to know Miranda pretty well, too. In fact, she has more friends in Duhring Park than I do now, which is oddly comforting. We spent two nights in theNightmare Before Christmascabin at Cora and Foster's rentals before heading up the mountain, and it was everything Monroe could have hoped for.
But apparently, now she's in the mood for Christmas.
I pull the 7-foot Christmas tree wrapped in a festive storage bag out of the van and drag it up the front steps.
On my second trip, I bring our luggage and a box of supplies into the cabin and go back out for the bin of ornaments that Monroe tucked away.
"I can't believe I let you talk me into a pink tree." I grimace when I unzip the tree bag, and Monroe giggles. "It looks like Barbie threw a pink kegger in here."
"I can't believe you did either. Especially on a year where we're making new traditions, which means this is the tree we are keeping until the end of time."
I grab my wife around her middle, pulling her toward me with a squeeze of her ass cheeks. "I'm manly enough for a pink tree every year."
"No, not...not yet." Monroe swats at me and dances away. "It's Christmas Eve. Which means, we only have a few hours to decorate, or Santa won't know where to put the presents. We need to decorate this tree first."
I eye her perfect ass, conveying my disgruntled irritation with her plan, and then turn to dutifully get the tree assembled. I will do anything for this woman, and she knows it.
Monroe opens her suitcase and then disappears into the bathroom as I get to work. About ten minutes later, I've got the tree set in the stand, and I turn as the door to the bathroom opens.
Monroe has chosen a completely see-through number with nothing underneath. I stalk toward her like a hound hot on the trail of his prey, but she puts her hand up quickly, halting me in my tracks.
"Uh-uh. You can't touch me. But you can enjoy the view." She prances away, her round, peachy ass on full display amid the sheer fabric and fluffy hem of her nightie.
I grin, my cock twitching. I love these games she plays with me. As much as we are like two puzzle pieces in everyday life, our sexual compatibility is off the charts, and we're helping eachother find kinks we didn't know existed. For example, I had no idea I liked being deprived and teased.
"Once all the decorations are up, and the cocoa's been made, you get to unwrap me under that tree." Monroe bites her lip, her gaze flitting over my chest and down to my hard cock, visibly straining against my pants. "So get going, mister."
I stalk toward the kitchen, but stop on the other side of the counter and remove my jacket. I lay it neatly over the back of the stool at the banquette seating. Monroe's breath catches, and she steadies herself against the counter like she's anticipating me chasing her.
The truth is, I would never ruin her games. The foreplay is mind-blowing. Monroe edges me until I can barely stand it, and then she lets me fuck her.
But the way she's eyeing me tells me that it's just as difficult for her to show restraint as it is for me.
Well, two can play this game.
I reach behind my neck to pull off my T-shirt one-handed, and she sucks in a sharp breath.
"That gets me every time," Monroe says with a grin, her eyes hooded with lust as she watches me kick off my shoes and unbutton my jeans. I lower my pants and socks so that all I’m left in are my tight black boxer briefs.
Her pink tongue darts out, wetting her plump bottom lip.
"Mr. Jensen, can I find out what's stuffing that stocking of yours?" she asks with a coquettish little grin.
I grin and lower my underwear, my hard cock springing into action like he's trying to find home.
