A Brockman Christmas
Elliott Brockman
"Are you still pouting?" Serena asks.
"But it's Christmas and we could set them up right next to mine," I argue.
Dropping her head back, she lets out an exasperated sigh before tightening the dark gray towel around her freshly showered body.
"He's seven, Elliott," she tells me, like I don't know my son's fucking age.
It wasn't my sperm that knocked her up at seventeen, but that fucking boy has been mine before I even knew he existed. Where Serena is my fiery and fierce soul mate, my goddess, Ryan is my soul son, and I couldn't have asked for a better kid.
Plus, he fucking worships me. Now, if I could just get his mother to follow suit, I would be getting my way right now. I let my eyes drop to her mouth. She'd also be naked, on her knees, and sucking my cock while her hand played between—
"Elliott," she snaps.
"What?" I break out of my thoughts.
"Stop fantasizing about blow jobs," she calls me out. "We have guests arriving in an hour, and I still have to get the kids and myself ready. The answer is no."
"Healthy habits are important to instill while their young," I argue, quoting one of the five fucking parenting books I bought after Ryan entered my life. From the moment I'd stepped into this house, met her parents, and her son, I knew I would never let them go. They say home is where your heart is. Well, my hearts – Serena, Ryan, and Zoey – live under this roof, making it my motherfucking home.
Lost in my own thoughts again, I don't catch the look on my wife's face until it's nearly too late. Lips pulled to one side and eyebrows low—I'm quite familiar with what's about to happen.
My wife could de-ball a guy with just this look, and God help your dick the moment she opens her mouth to lay into you. She will have your shit turtling by the second syllable. For a man such as myself, it's equal parts scary and hot as fuck.
"Lifting weights at seven years old is not healthy, and you damn well know it," she shouts. "So, quit whining and pouting about some stupid fucking weight bench for kids!"
"Then why would they make them?" I counter, pointing to the catalog on the bed next to me.
She rubs her forehead and inhales deeply before saying, "Baby, please tell me you're fucking joking and not this naïve." There's a plea in her voice that almost makes me feel guilty, but I let her continue. "‘Cause if you aren't, I'm going to start wondering if you were even mentally capable of legally marrying me."
I'm totally fucking with her, but furious, angry sex with my wife is worth the pre-fuckfest battle. So, I keep going.
"They even have competitions," I add, picking my phone up from the mattress. Tapping the screen, I start the video of Little Hercules. "Look at his form," I praise. "And that's when he was eight. Ry could get a whole year head start."
Serena moves fast, stepping in front of me and yanking my phone from my hand.
"Babe…"
"I'm seriously contemplating divorce right now," she warns. "Be careful what you say next."
She starts to back away, and I bring both my hands to the backs of her thighs. Scooting closer to the edge of the bed, I pull her between my knees.
Serena places her hands on my shoulders, drawing my eyes down to meet hers. I lean forward and rest my chin on her abdomen. Letting my hands wander up to her ass, I give it a squeeze. She still carries some of the pregnancy weight, and I'm sure as hell not complaining. Her ass is so soft, I could spend days resting my head there. And her tits—fuck me, her breasts are still enormous, and those babies aren't small to begin with.
"Baby," I coo, sliding my hands down, only to bring them back up, but under the towel. "I'm only messing with you," I confess.
Her nostrils flare, eyes narrow, and lips thin.
"I'm gonna kill you!" She slaps the side of my head. "No, first, I'm going to bite off your dick, then I'm going to kill you!"
"So, you're saying you'll put my cock in your gorgeous mouth?"
Not amused, she pushes at my shoulders to get away.
Before that can happen, I curve my arm and slip my hand between her legs. The moment my finger slides against her slit, she gasps and her hips jerk back.
On a breathy moan, she says, "Everyone will be here in an hour."
"Baby, you know I can do a lot with an hour." I push one finger past her lips and brush her clit.
She digs her fingers into my shoulder, and I can feel the bite of her nails through my t-shirt.
"Elliott…" it starts as a protest, but morphs into a moan when I plunge one thick finger inside her wet pussy.
"Oh yes," she gasps, moving her hips to ride my finger.
"That's it," I encourage. "You want more?"
She nods. "Yes, please!"
"Good girl," I praise before pushing another finger inside her.
"Thank you," she whimpers, moving her hips faster.
"Listen to you, baby. You're being such a good girl," I acknowledge, earning another whimper from my gorgeous wife.
When I first met my ball busting, independent wife, I would never have guessed she'd be down for the games I like to play. The first time I made her use her good manners to get my cock, I discovered just what a good girl she could fucking be. And the first time she acted like a little brat, refusing to ask nice for my tongue, we learned just how much fun her defiance could be too.
The pace of her hips increases, and the walls of her pussy start to flex.
"Not yet, baby." I slide my fingers out.
"Ell," she whines.
Dragging my soaked fingers through her lips and up the seam of her ass, I circle her asshole, and her body jerks.
"Drop the towel. I wanna see you."
At her hesitation, I fist the towel in my free hand and tear it away.
"Elliott," she protests.
"Don't fucking hide your body from me, Serena." My words are firm, not harsh.
"It's just—"
"I know what you think," I interrupt, slipping my hand back between her legs. When I slide one digit back inside, she moans.
"You think," I run my nose across her lower abdomen, "this beautiful soft belly that carried both my kids is too big." Pressing my lips to her skin, I begin my descent.
"I still have twenty pounds to—"
I thrust my tongue between her lips and touch the tip to her clit, cutting off her ridiculous opinions of her body. Pushing a second finger inside, I delve my tongue farther and flatten it against her nub.
"Oh, fuck," she groans, rolling her hips.
The taste of her explodes across my tongue, and I'm suddenly ravenous.
Gripping the back of her right thigh, I pull it over my shoulder.
"Do you want my mouth, baby?" I ask against her pussy.
"Yes," she moans.
"What do you say?" I run my nose along the crease of her thigh, inhaling deep.
"Please," she exclaims. "Yes, please!"
"Good girl." I kiss her inner thigh and bury my face against her cunt.
Her hips rock down to meet the thrust of my fingers before I curl them forward to press her clit against my mouth.
Dropping my hand from her thigh, I work my jeans open to relieve the pressure of my hard on.
With a final suck to her clit, I sit back, pulling my fingers from her body and settling her leg back on the floor.
"Baby, I was so close," she confesses, squeezing her legs together.
"I know." I use my free hands to shove my pants to mid-thigh.
Her eyes fall to my hand as I stroke her wetness along my cock. Her legs press together again.
"Come here, baby," I order, coaxing her to straddle me.
She plants her knees into the bed on either side of me, and I can't keep my eyes from the sway of her breasts.
Fisting the base of my cock, I lean forward and lick her left nipple.
Serena's hands come to my head, holding me against her.
Releasing my cock, I take her hips in my grip and position her over my straining dick. It's at full fucking attention, reaching out for her.
I give her nipple one last lick before leaning back and planting my hands into the bed behind me.
"Ride me, Serena.”
Placing her palms on my shoulders, she moves into my lap, allowing my tip to slip past her wet lips.
"Wait," I command, and she furrows her brow. "Ask me nicely."
Annoyance flashes in her eyes, and part of me prays she'll be a fucking brat so I can treat her like one.
"Please?" she asks, smirking.
"Please what?"
"Please let me ride you." Her hips barely move, but I feel the slight swirl around my tip.
Tightening my jaw, I fight not to thrust up into her. Through clenched teeth, I stay my course. "What do you want to ride?"
She leans into me, her mouth to my ear. "Please let me ride your big, hard cock?"
My balls tighten painfully and my cock pulses. Before I can fucking respond, she drops her hips, taking all of me in one smooth motion.
"Fuck," I groan. "Such a good girl taking my cock. Make yourself cum, Serena." I've barely got her name off my lips before she's riding me like her life depends on it.
Fisting the comforter beneath us, I battle between my desire to watch her fuck me and my need to fuck her into oblivion.
"Mom," Ryan shouts. The door knob jiggles.
"Shit," Serena whisper-shouts, trying to scramble off my lap.
"It's locked." I grab her hips, moving her against me.
"Elliott," she exclaims, a mixture of pleasure and panic.
"Mom?" Ry shouts again.
"What's up, buddy?" I yell to the closed door while rolling Serena onto her back and thrusting hard.
"Oh God," Serena cries as I swirl my hips.
"I need help with the tie." He knocks on the door. "Your door is locked," he informs us, like it was done on accident.
Pulling my hips back, I draw my cock out until just the tip rests inside her wet heat.
"We're getting dressed," I lie, slamming back into her.
"Oh God," Serena calls out.
Covering her mouth with my hand, I continue pounding into her.
"We'll be out," I pause as her pussy pulses around me, preparing to trap me in the best fucking grip. "Give us a minute."
"Is Mommy okay?" The concern in his voice almost makes me feel guilty, but I can't get enough, and can't stop now. She's so close.
"Mommy is amazing," I shout, riding her harder, wanting to feel her orgasm more than anything in the fucking world right now. "Mommy is so fu—freaking amazing!" Her pussy has me wanting to use every cuss word out there, and some I fucking make up—she feels that damn good.
"We. Need. To stop," she pants behind my hand.
Pulling my hand from her mouth, she twists her head to the door.
"I'm coming, baby," she calls out to Ry.
"Fucking A you are," I growl low before claiming her mouth with mine.
Drawing my knees higher until our thighs press close, I rise over her body and watch her tits bounce. I spread my hand on her lower stomach, move my thumb to her clit, and press.
"Oh fuck," she whispers, before shouting, "I'm coming!"
And she does, all over my cock, wrapping it in the best grip, until my balls can't take anymore. I explode inside her body, riding out my release so hard, I'm pushing her up the bed.
"Okay," Ry shouts back.
I drop over her body, caging her between my arms, trying to catch my breath.
"What the hell, Elliott?" Serena reprimands, slapping my side. "Get off!"
"Baby, I'm awesome, but I'm gonna need a minute before I can go again," I tease.
"Idiot." She slaps my side again, only harder.
"Damn, baby, what did we say about the abuse?" I ask, rolling off her.
Serena scrambles off the bed, grabs the discarded towel from the floor, and wraps it around her body.
I pull up my pants and stuff my very satisfied dick back in my pants.
"He probably heard everything," Serena scolds on another whisper. Knotting the towel, she glares at me. "My son will—"
"Our son," I correct, unable to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
Her face softens, realizing what she just said.
Climbing from the bed, I walk into the bathroom and wash my hands and face.
"I didn't mean it like that," she calls out from the bedroom.
"Yeah, I know." And I do. She’s never said it purposely or to be hateful, but far too often she refers to Ry as just hers, and it eats at me every single fucking time.
I step out of the bathroom as she slips on her robe.
"I'm trying, Elliott," she explains, meeting my eyes. "It's always been just me and him. It's a habit, but I'm going to break it,” she promises.
Sighing, I rub my face and walk around her.
"I know, Serena," I repeat. "But it still fucking cuts me every time."
"I'm sorry." The sadness in her voice makes me turn to face her.
"It's alright," I grumble, reaching for the door and unlocking it.
Turning the knob, I pull it open. Ryan falls into the room, back to the floor.
His bright eyes stare up at me and a large smile spreads across his face. My chest pangs and warms at the adoration and love on his beautiful face. Then, I take in the rest of his body and furrow my brow.
He has on a light blue button-down shirt and gray dress slacks. The tie he needs help with lays on the floor next to him.
Glancing up to Serena, I point down to Ry.
"My son ain't wearing that shit," I declare, waving over his business attire.
She rolls her eyes. "The kids are doing a group photo."
Kneeling down, she helps Ry off the floor. "You okay?"
He nods, holding up the tie.
I snatch it out of his hand, wrinkling my nose at it.
"Ry?"
He looks up. "Yeah, Daddy?"
"You comfortable wearing that crap?"
He immediately shakes his head.
"Go change into whatever you want, buddy." I toss the tie over my shoulder, hoping it finds a garbage can.
Ryan runs off before anyone can change their mind. His enthusiasm to pick out his clothes makes me grin and I turn to Serena.
She's not smiling. Arms crossed over her chest, she frowns at me.
"Don't give me that look, woman." I point at her. "The boy didn't like it and he doesn't have to wear it. He can wear what he wants."
"Oh really?" She lifts one brow.
"Yep," I confirm, lifting my chin.
"Ta da!" Ryan announces his return.
Arms wide, he shows off his Steelers Football Jersey and Pokémon pajama shorts.
"Ummm…" I take in his choice.
"Yeah," Serena snorts. "You've got this."
Shoving me out of the room, she slams the door, leaving me and Ry in the hallway.
"What do you think?" Ry asks, tugging on my shirt.
Shrugging, I give a nod. "Looks awesome, Buddy."
I hold up my hand, palm out. He jumps up and slaps his to mine.
As if on cue, Zoey announces her nap is over by wailing.
"Your baby is awake," Ryan states.
"My baby?" I question. "What happened to her being your baby?"
He shakes his head and blows out a breath.
"That's your baby. It doesn't have a tail," he states.
"A tail?" I ask, confused.
"Yeah, a tail." He points to his crotch.
For a moment, I'm shocked silent, but then laughter bubbles out, loud and hard.
"What?" Ryan asks. "What's so funny?"
"We need to have a long talk, my man." I ruffle his hair. "But first, we've gotta go get your tailless sister."
"Son, this might not be the best idea," John says, taking a step away from my brand new deep fryer as I light the burner.
John and Linda came over thirty minutes ago for our get together and to help get things ready. Linda is in the house helping Serena with stuffing, mashed potatoes, and other sides. Though, I'm pretty sure she's mostly fawning of Zoey. That woman loves her grandchildren something fierce. As soon as they all arrive, none of us will exist to her.
"I know what I'm doing," I reassure, dumping the large jug of vegetable oil into the oversized metal pot.
I mean, I watched like five instructional videos on YouTube for fuck’s sake. I checked the propane tanks, set it up in a clear area away from the house, and even have the hose ready if needed. I've got this.
John places his large hand on Ryan's shoulder, pulls him close, and takes another sizable step back. "Whatever you say, son."
"Thank God!" Mia's exclamation draws my attention from the fryer.
She hurries through the French doors, leaving them open as she pulls her cell out of her back pocket.
"I promised Jack I'd video this," she states, tapping her phone.
"Princess," John calls out. "You need to come over to the safe zone."
Before I can glare at John, Chris rushes out behind her.
"Mia," he shouts, "don't get too close."
Her step slows, glancing between me and the fryer.
Catching up to her, Chris throws his arm over her shoulder and guides her next to John. "This is as close as you're getting."
"Where's the baby?" Ryan asks, looking up at his aunt.
"Grandma has her." Mia smiles down at him.
"Does Max have a tale?"
Chris frowns, Mia scrunches up her face in confusion, and John bursts into laughter. Living so close to John and Linda, they are aware of everything Ryan and the shit he comes up with. Plus, I couldn't wait to share that shit with someone, so the moment they arrived, I told the whole story.
"No," John chuckles. "Max doesn't have a tale."
Ryan grumbles, "What’s a guy gotta do to get more tales around here?"
"What am I missing?" Mia asks, glancing from Ryan to her dad.
"Boys have tales. Girls don't," is all he says. It's enough, because her eyes widen, mouth drops open, and she starts laughing too.
While they're distracted by Ryan, I check the thermometer to make sure the oil is ready. After a few minutes, their laughter quiets, and the temperature is perfect.
"Alright, let's do this!" I exclaim.
Grabbing the triangular handle of the turkey hook, I raise the bird up and over the pot.
"Hold on!" I pause at Mia's exclamation and look over.
She lifts her cell phone, and says, "Okay, go ahead."
"See no evil, Ry," I state.
When my boy covers his eyes, I flip off Mia's phone, and say, "That's for you, Jack!"
Returning to my task, I say, "It's all good, Ry. You can watch now."
I lower the turkey into the pot, listening to the oil hiss and sizzle against the raw meat. When it's finally submerged, I release the metal handle and step back.
"Ha!" I shout, pointing at my audience. "You all thought I couldn't do it!"
"Well, that was uneventful," Chris states.
"Agreed," John adds. "I had the fire department on standby."
Mia turns her phone on herself. "Sorry, Jack, he actually did it. Tell Liza I said hi."
Lifting my arms high above my head, because I'm fucking awesome, I shout, "I am the king of turkey frying!"
"Yeah!" Ryan cheers, jumping up and down with his arms up, mimicking mine.
"Come on, little dude." I motion for Ry to follow me back into the house, and he hurries to my side. I lean down and lift him onto my arm.
"Turkey King. Turkey King," we chant, entering the kitchen.
"No injuries?" Linda asks, surprise in her voice.
I'd be offended, but she looks so content sitting next to a playpen with Zoey and Maggie inside and Max in her arms.
"Of course not," I scoff. "I am the king of turkey frying."
"You're the king of something," Serena teases from the kitchen island, grinning over the bowl of boiled potatoes she's smashing.
"You are married to a culinary genius," I boast.
"I can't believe he actually did it without a disaster." Mia comes in with Chris and John close behind her. "No flames. No overflowing."
"No losing a finger or hand," Chris adds, sounding a bit too disa-fucking-ppointed.
"Y'all are always underestimating me," I say flatly with a shake of my head. "By now you should know how goddamn awesome I am."
"Can someone explain the restrained doll over there?" Chris nods in the direction of the fridge.
Fuck! I forgot to take that down.
"Isn't that the cute little Elf on the Shelf I got Ryan?" Linda asks, confusion lacing every word. Before I can respond, she continues. "Why in the good lord's name is it hung by its feet and bound in rope?"
"And what exactly is that Barbie doll wearing?" Mia asks, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth.
Linda's eyes come to me, demanding an answer.
"Daddy says Bart was a bad boy and needed to be taught a lesson," Ry responds.
Mia snorts, bites back a laugh, and then asks, "What did he do that was so bad?"
"He touched Barbie's cookie," Ryan informs, shaking his head. "You shouldn't touch other people's cookies. Not without consent. Right, Dad?"
His face turns up to mine, the biggest smile on his face.
Ruffling his hair, I smile down at him. "Right, bud."
Mia loses her battle and bursts into a fit of giggles.
"Dear God," John groans.
"Elliott," Linda hisses.
Looking up from Ry's face, I find John rubbing his forehead, Linda's mouth hanging open, and Chris smirking.
"What? Consent is important," I defend.
"So are condoms," Ryan adds, pride in his voice.
The slam of a glass bowl on the countertop draws my attention to Serena. My eyes meet her glare.
"I'm teaching life lessons here," I argue.
"Teach your son how to say grace, not about bondage," she orders.
"We already practiced. Didn't we, Ry?"
"Yep!" he shouts, grinning wide. "We're thankful for Mommy's boobs!"
"Oh my God," Mia cries out, laughing harder.
"Sweet Jesus," John grumbles, while Linda just gasps.
"I told you shit would go down," Chris says into his phone, which is aimed at me.
"Seriously, Elliott?" Serena slams her fist on the counter.
Motioning to Ryan, I explain, "That's completely taken out of context. He needs to do the entire thing."
"We're thankfully for Mommy's bountiful boobs," Ryan says, giggling wildly.
"That was between us, traitor," I accuse, making him laugh harder.
"Elliott…" I'm very familiar with my wife's angry tone.
"I swear, baby, we practiced without the bountiful part," I explain.
Lifting a mashed potato covered spoon, she points it at me.
"You had better hope so, or you'll be divorced by New Years," she threatens.
"I'll be honest, the turkey was amazing," John praises, slipping his arms into his coat.
"Thank you."
"But," he quickly adds, "please untie the elf before Linda loses her mind."
I nod. "Well, it's Christmas Eve, so we have to release him to return to the North Pole."
Linda comes up from behind us, adding, "I hope you know you'll be on the naughty list for what you did to poor Bart."
"That's nothing new," Chris tells them, zipping his coat up and around Maggie, who is currently asleep against his chest.
"Are you gonna punish me this year?" I waggle my brows at him.
"You're an idiot," Chris states, picking up the infant carrier from the floor and walking out the door.
"Thank you for everything," Mia says, hugging Serena. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," my wife returns.
Mia turns to me, gives me a goodbye hug, then follows Chris out to their car.
"Goodnight," John and Linda call out before they too exit for their walk home.
"Night," I shout after them, and close the door.
"Thankful for my boobs? Really?" Serena crosses her arms over her chest.
My eyes drop to where the glorious breasts are now on display.
Licking my lower lip, I nod. "Fuck yeah."
"You're a perv," she says, and walks away.
"That ass is pretty fabulous, too," I offer.
She spins and opens her mouth, but Ry rushes down the stairs with Serena's vibrator in his hand. "I found Zoey's tail!"
"Oh my God!" she exclaims. "Ryan, give me that!"
As he rushes by, I snatch it out of his hand.
"Where did you—” Serena begins.
"Why would you remove her tail?" Ryan cuts her off. "And why is Zoey's bigger than mine?"
"That's what she said," I blurt.
"I…I just…" Serena shakes her head and points down at Ryan. "I'm done. You handle your son. I'm putting our tailless daughter to bed."
The instant “your son” and “our daughter” comes out of her mouth, my dick pulses. So, I'm quick to calm Ry down and convince him to go to bed so Santa can come.
And by Santa, I mean me. And by come, I mean me again.
After tucking him in, I enter our room, closing and locking the door behind me. The sound of the shower draws me into our bathroom.
Stripping my clothes along the way, I'm naked the moment my feet touch the tile floor. The fogged glass of the doors doesn't completely hide my gorgeous wife. Nor does is open quietly when I make my move to join her.
"We need to bring the presents up from the," she turns as she speaks, "basement and get them—"
Grabbing her round hips, I yank her against me and crush my mouth to hers. Our lips part at the same time and my tongue plunges inside, tangling with hers.
I slip one hand from her hip to her ass and glide the other up her wet skin. Stopping to cup her left breast, I brush my thumb over her hard nipple.
She breaks the kiss and gasps for air.
Squeezing her ass harder, I slide my hand over her breast until I can cup the back of her neck.
"Elliott," she pants.
"You called him my son," I growl, grinding my cock against her lower belly and moving her hands over my biceps, shoulders, and up my neck. Taking my face in both her hands, she brings it to hers. Our eyes lock, and she says, "Because he’s your son, Elliott."
Closing the distance, I'm about to take her mouth again, but she turns her head and pushes against my chest.
"Serena," I growl.
She leans close, bringing her mouth to my ear, "What do you say, baby?"
Grinning, I fist her red hair and tug. Head back, her long neck is exposed, and her mouth is mine to take.
"You act like a brat, I'll treat you like one," I warn.
"Is that so?" she taunts.
Fuck, if this woman isn't the best thing to ever happen to me.
"Ask me for my tongue," I instruct.
"Maybe I don't want it," she says with a small shrug.
Giving her ass a tight squeeze, I watch anticipation light her eyes. Then I slap my wet hand against her wet ass. She jumps, biting back a scream.
"Are you going to be a good girl and use your manners?" I begin to rub the cheek I just struck.
I see the defiance in her eyes before she gives a small shake of her head.
Raising one brow, I move my hand around her body, press her against the tiles, and plunge a finger inside. As I pump, I run the tip of my tongue along her parted lips.
She tries to capture it in her mouth, but I evade the attempts, watching her frustration escalate.
"You," I plunge a second finger inside, "know what to do."
"Fuck me," she demands.
"That's not very nice," I scold, removing my fingers and pinching her clit.
"Oh, fuck," she shouts.
"Not until you ask nicely, baby," I remind with a tap of my fingertip to her clit.
"Please," she whimpers.
"Please what? Please stop?"
Removing my hand from between her legs, I take half a step back until her body no longer touches mine.
"Fine," she growls. "I'll handle it myself."
She reaches down and shoves her hand between her legs.
Wrapping my hand around her wrist, I stop her, and she groans.
"Please," she begs.
"Please what?"
"Please watch me make myself come."
"Fuck, baby." I release her wrist. "When you ask so nicely, how can I resist?"
Two of her fingers adeptly part her lips for my viewing pleasure, while the other two drive inside. With my free hand, I fist my cock and start to pump.
"Faster," I order, and she complies.
"Please let me come," she begs.
It's almost my undoing.
Watching my wife make herself come is one of the hottest fucking sights. Getting an up-close view is better.
"Not yet," I grunt, dropping to my knees.
Warm water beats against the back of my head as I furiously move my hand up and down my aching dick, and lock my eyes on the way her fingers slip and plunge inside. My balls tighten and the tingling at the base of my spine becomes a burn.
"Now, baby, show me how wet you can make those pretty fingers," I order.
Pumping my own way to release, I lift one hand to the wall next to her thigh.
"Elliott," she moans.
Her hips buck as the orgasm sweeps through her.
I lean in and kiss the back of her hand. Knowing exactly what I want, she moves her fingers from her pussy to my awaiting mouth. The moment her taste hits my tongue, my release explodes from my body.
I may love the way she asks, begs, and obeys, but there is no fucking doubt who runs this mother fucking show. And I will always kneel before my goddess.
Merry fucking Christmas to me.
~~ End ~~
Next… A Stone Hard Christmas