Bound for Christmas

by Ember Flint

  We left Silver & Gold Tech’s offices in San Jose this afternoon hoping for snow and as soon as we landed on the closest airstrip to our chalet, we could feel the crispiness of the still cold air and we knew we might get our wish once more fulfilled.

  We spoke via radio to the park ranger only a few minutes ago and he told us a veritable blizzard is on its way, one as big as this place hasn’t seen since that Christmas Eve so many years ago when Natalie and I finally casted our pretenses off and allowed our love to shine.

  We only had to nearly freeze to death to find out how we really felt about each other, but it’s not surprising honestly, our relationship was very complicated back then.

  It’s not like that anymore, though.

  Now things are simpler and make far more sense than they ever did when we couldn’t stop picking on each other, and I couldn’t picture myself being away from her for anything in the world.

  We thought we were so different back then, but we’re so much alike instead, like two pieces of a puzzle that we never even knew needed putting together, the puzzle that makes up our entire world now and that has given me more happiness that I ever knew I could hold in my soul and when I think we’re finally about to add even more joy to it, I feel like I’ve got to be the luckiest man on earth and I know I really am.

  This Christmas is gonna be as special as our first one together was, but then again they all have been.

  The first Christmas, we ever spent together here we started out hating each other’s guts and ended up so much in love it left us dizzy.

  The second one, we celebrated our wedding just outside this very chalet on a thick layer of snow and also the growth of our company as a whole, following the end of all the little guerrillas amongst the two factions within it, and the opening of five more headquarters and ten more stores worldwide.

  Our third year was the toughest one for us.

  We had just been told that our difficulty to conceive wasn’t just a case of ‘sometimes babies take longer’, but something far more serious. We had spent so many nights, after making love, cuddled together under a blanket, talking about having a loud, boisterous family; we grew up as shy and socially awkward only children and we had always secretly wished for many kids and we had been so happy to know we both wanted the same thing.

  Doctors talked about possible therapies as we held hands and waited, but they also said they couldn’t guarantee anything more than a slim chance.

  We came here heartbroken, but more in love with each other than ever and this little chalet healed us, made us consider other paths and other options that could give us the family we had dreamed so much of.

  We arrived tearful and left smiling, this place as always magical to us, especially at Christmas.

  The Christmas after that, we came here with adoptions pamphlets in hand and hearts full of even bigger dreams. Afterwards, we went back home having purchased the chalet and a huge chunk of land around it from the resort for a ridiculous sum, and with our names written on a very special waiting list.

  And now here we are, ready to become parents and to start another chapter of our life together.

  We are in the process of adopting our baby girl, little seven-month-old Giselle. We fell in love with her on sight and she’s been the daughter of our hearts from the start.

  We tried to speed up the procedure as much as possible and our fathers made every ounce of their social and political clout count, but we still couldn’t get them to let her come live with us in time for Christmas.

  It doesn’t matter, though. She’s still our little Christmas miracle and the best gift we could ever ask for.

  We almost canceled the trip this time year, but when we realized we were just too nervous to sit around and we would have probably spend the entire holiday period driving everybody else nuts and pacing up and down in our adjoined office, we decided to come down anyway since her princess nursery is already set up and we have already bought the entire content of every baby store in San Jose twice over.

  I smile, shaking my head.

  “What are you thinking about, love?” my wife asks, pulling at my arm.

  I look down at her and my smile spreads wider. “Us. Our lives together. The journey that took us here and got us our baby girl…”

  I see Natalie’s beautiful large hazel eyes fill with tears behind her round dark-rimmed glasses and I turn to the side to cup her face just as the first snowflakes start to float down beyond the window, their white almost glittering against the blackness of the sky.

  “Don’t cry, baby,” I murmur softly to her, kissing her nose.

  She smiles as I brush her tears away from her cheeks. “I’m just so happy…”

  “Me too, love. So damn happy it’s crazy.”

  She frowns. “Why crazy?”

  I sigh. “Well, do you need to ask? I mean, what were the chances of someone that used to pester me so much ending up being the cause of this much happiness in my life?” I tease her.

  She glowers up at me and punches my shoulder hard.

  I dutifully pretend to be hurt, and she giggles.

  I pick her up and twirl her around the dark living room, the fire burning high in the hearth casting shiny orange flashes on her dark chocolaty waves.

  “I love you so much, it’s stupid,” she says, and I grin down at her, pushing her against the wooden pillar that makes up part of the large arch of the floor-to-ceiling window.

  “I love you too, baby, and just as stupidly.”

  We laugh as we kiss.

  It makes it a little harder, but I don’t care, since it makes me also a little harder as my tongue tries to explore her mouth.

  While we grind against each other, we accidentally set off the twinkling lights embedded in the frontal wool pattern of our Christmas ugly sweaters.

  Her red Gryffindor one is flashing a bright gold on and off and my even uglier green one has flickering red midget lights declaring that ‘All I need for Christmas is Wi-Fi…’

  Which isn’t exactly true, since I definitely need my woman more.

  I can’t believe she actually persuaded me to wear such a thing.

  I told her it was the power of love and she said I needed to get real: it was the power of the pussy.

  We argued back and forth, but in the end we knew we were both in the right.

  We are laughing too hard to kiss now.

  We each turn the other’s sweater off and as she runs her hands up and down my torso, I feel my cock swell even harder.

  “I need you so much, baby,” I tell her on her lips, my hands winding around her curvy hips.

  “I want you too, Tristan,” she breathes and then we are kissing again and there’s no laughing this time around: we’re not playing anymore, we’re too aroused for that.

  That’s how we always are: we have the shortest fuse possible attached to a barrel of dynamite and it only takes a match to be in the vicinity for us to spark and ignite.

  We disrobe faster than it takes for the white twinkling lights strewn over our tree to blink twice and before I even put my mind to it —a difficult task with my blood rapidly pooling into my crotch— I realize I’ve already thrown my wife’s thick, luscious tights around my hips and slamming my big hard cock all the way up into her wet heat, her large rose-tipped breasts bouncing against my chest as I press her higher into the pillar.

  Her snug little pussy immediately clenches around me as I start to pound into her and she moans my name, already starting to climb the heights of her ecstasy.

  My mouth falls on both her nipples hungrily while I fuck into her deeper, faster and harder, wanting to feel everything at once, wanting all of her and, as always, never getting enough.

  “Fuck, yeah, baby… cum around me, just like that,” I grunt, giving her a slower thrust when I feel her really go off, my balls tightening in eager pleasure.

  There’s nothing in the world that can compare to the feeling of cumm
ing hard and deep inside the woman you love, not many men know it, but I’m one of the lucky ones.

  Not only I have the fortune of having the love of my soulmate, I know that I do, I know what it means and I’m never letting go.

  “Tristan, yesss… yesss!”

  I kiss my way from her big silky tits to the creamy slope of her neck and suckle her there slightly. She loves it when I do it and even as I blindly reach for my own orgasm, I want her to feel more pleasure, her contentment is never far from my heart, or my mind. I love her too much to do anything less.

  She cums around me again and I finally allow myself to let go, the tight contractions of her hot climaxing cunt milking all the seed I’m storing in my balls for her.

  I speed up my thrusts, growling her name as I hammer her to the pillar, my body shaking all over as I empty my load inside her tightness, making her moan my name once more as she crests a third time.

  We stay like that for a while, my much larger frame holding her up as I fight for breath and force my knees not to buckle, no matter how drowsy I feel.

  “Holy Jingle Bells, Tristan, that was hot!” my wife gasps almost reverently and then we burst out laughing, falling to the ground in a heap of legs and arms, still partially connected.

  We laugh so hard my sides begin to hurt and tiny tears start to fall from the corners of Natalie’s eyes. She always cries a little when she laughs too hard. It’s adorable.

  “Man, I fucking love you so much baby…”

  “I… love… you… t-too.”

  She snorts a little at the end, and then cuddles into my chest as we both calm down.

  We stay like that until the cold drives us to seek shelter in front of the blazing fireplace.

  I pull a thick red and white blanket off the sofa and throw it over us.

  I’m almost falling asleep when Natalie’s voice brings me back. “Is it midnight yet?” she asks.

  I lazily open one eye and look over her shoulder to the smartwatch on the wrist of the arm laying around her back. “Yeah, babe. Merry—”

  She puts two fingers on my lips and shushes me. “Wait, don’t…”

  I frown as she jumps up from my lap and scurries naked through the living room.

  I smile at her, one of my eyebrows arching into my forehead. “What’s going on?”

  She shakes her head and drops on her knees in front of the tree.

  “Nat?” I try again.

  “Stay put. I have a surprise for you.”

  I smile bigger. “Really?” I try to look past the back of the sofa to see what she’s doing.

  “Don’t peek, love!” she scolds.

  Sheesh, the woman has eyes even on her back!

  Or maybe she simply knows me that well.

  I smirk to myself, shaking my head as I sit up with my back against the sofa.

  “Are your eyes closed?” she asks.

  “Nope.”

  She sighs. “Love, I know it’s difficult for you, but could you try not to be a jerk for once?”

  “Ha-ha, very funny,” I grumble, but I nonetheless obey my little tyrant’s orders and close my eyes.

  “Closed?”

  “Closed,” I confirm, chuckling.

  I wonder what she’s up to.

  I feel her sweet weight on my lap and my hands immediately wind around her and grab her ass.

  She slaps them away. “Behave!”

  I huff. “Alright. Can I open my eyes now?” I ask.

  She says nothing and I laugh again when I feel her cold lips on the tip of my nose.

  My smile gets bigger when I feel she’s sliding my glasses on my face.

  “You’re gonna need them,” she mumbles. “Okay, open your eyes, love.”

  I do as she says and see that she’s holding a little rectangular box on the palm of her hand, it’s golden and wrapped around it there’s a silver satin ribbon.

  I smile down at it and then at her. “Silver and Gold go well together, don’t they?”

  As I speak, my voice catches, there’s something on my wife’s face, an emotion I can’t readily read but it’s pulling at something deep inside of me.

  She nods. “They do. They always did and always will. Open your present, love.”

  I stare at it and then I start to get up.

  She giggles, putting a hand over my shoulder to stop me. “Where are you going?”

  “To get your gift, babe.”

  Natalie shakes her head. “You don’t need to. Not now. This is for both of us. Come on, open it.”

  “For both of us?”

  She nods again, wiping tears away.

  My heart starts to thud away in my chest as I pick the little box up. My brain is saying something, but it can’t be. Can it?

  With shaking hands, I open the lid and when I see there’s a pregnancy test wrapped up in silver and gold tinsel inside, my vision blurs.

  “Nat? What…? Is this? What does it—? Nat? Are you?”

  She sniffles and nods.

  I blink rapidly, too stunned to even know how to respond.

  “They said it was almost impossible,” I murmur, my voice breaking.

  My wife smiles through her tears, her dark eyes shimmering like stars, my stars, in a sky of our making. “Almost… yes… not entirely impossible, just ‘almost’…”

  I look back down at the test held between my fingers in wonder, my eyes hardly making out the pink sign in the little white window.

  I shake my head and then start laughing, my heart barely catching up with this much happiness. “So we aren’t just getting Giselle, we’ll have two babies?” I ask and my face now almost hurts from smiling.

  Natalie nods. “Two babies, two miracles for Christmas.”

  “I’m so happy, love, so happy, I have no words.”

  “I know, I don’t need words. I know.”

  I let go of a shaky breath. “Merry Christmas, Nat.”

  “Merry Christmas, Tristan.”

  We throw our arms around each other almost at the same time, our lips meeting in a deep kiss.

  Epilogue 2

  NATALIE

  Three years after that…

  I wake up with a smile on my face at the feel of Tristan’s hands running up and down all over my body.

  It’s Christmas Morning and the air smells like snow even here in our cozy, warm bedroom, but I don’t mind. Not anymore.

  I went from loathing freezing temperatures and snowfall to jump up and down at the sight of it just like my children do.

  After all, I partly owe my present happiness to it, and I could never forget.

  I can hear the flames crackling low in the stone fireplace as Tristan teases me with kisses, rolling on top of me when he feels I’m coming awake; his stubble tickles my neck and makes me smile bigger.

  I tighten my arms around my husband’s broad naked back and then rise both legs until my heels are stroking his strong sides.

  “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Pain-In-The-Ass,” he whispers on my throat, his voice low and breathy.

  I burst into giggles, hugging him harder and pulling him even closer to me.

  “Merry Christmas, Mr. Pain-In-The-Ass,” I tell him lowering one of my hands to his taut butt and giving him a squeeze there.

  He chuckles and then captures my mouth in a kiss that as usual deepens before I can realize what’s going on. We’ve always been like this. Even when we used to bicker until we were both hoarse, it wasn’t a crescendo: it was a big explosion from the start, like a sequence of bright fireworks lighting up the sky on New Year’s Eve.

  It’s still explosive between us, I don’t think we know how to be any different with each other, maybe it’s because we now love as much as we believed we hated then. We still collide from time to time, only our energies are better employed now that we know what we mean to each other.

  I feel the outline of his stiff erection poke the curve of my stomach and I start to rub m
yself against it as we kiss even harder.

  My mind flashes to the kids and I break the connection, pushing myself to the side.

  We left our daughter, who is almost four years old and her little brother, 26-month-old Gideon, asleep on the sofa near a plate of gingerbread men that we spent the entire afternoon making along with a feast for our Christmas Eve’s dinner.

  We didn’t get to eat a bite of the delicacies we had so carefully planned to serve, though.

  I am completely useless in the kitchen and my hubby is even worse and we almost ended up burning the place down, thankfully the chalet comes with a fire extinguisher and lots of windows so we managed to get rid of most of the smoke; by the time it was all gone, the cabin was freezing cold, so we all ended up camping on the hardwood floor in front of the roaring fireplace with all the winter gear in our possession thrown on and sitting under a ton of blankets.

  The kids had a blast.

  Thank God for frozen pizzas, ready-made cookies and hot cocoa!

  It was nice, all in all, since our bellies in the end were full anyway, we had tons of fun and no one ended up in the hospital.

  We are counting it as a victory, and we swore to each other to never —ever— get near a kitchen again, not even to watch when our moms are the ones doing the cooking.

  We did manage to salvage a few gingerbread men from the general catastrophe, though. Giselle and Gideon didn’t want to eat them, they said they were going to put them aside for Santa.

  We tried to move the kids back to their little cots around Midnight, but they woke up on the way and insisted to be put back on the sofa. They spent the night cuddled there together and we surrounded them with a barrier of chairs so that little Gideon wouldn’t fall down.

  Tristan had a few sips from the tall glass of milk they had left near the little plate of cookies and then he had a bite of one of the gingerbread men. It tasted so spicy and bitter, he almost threw up.

  We might have exaggerated with the clover and the cinnamon.

  I guess I’m not good as I thought at measuring with a spoon.

  Thank God the kids didn’t have any!