It’s a small house. An older house. Two bedrooms, one bathroom; a big, cobwebby attic with naked roof joists; a single-car garage and an unfinished basement.

But the kitchen is spacious and modern, recently renovated, with room for a big family table. The back yard is big, too, the property set on an acre just outside of town.

We got lucky and found this place in record time. The agent told us about it before it was listed, and we snapped it up for a good price.

Closing on the deal just after Thanksgiving, the vendors were eager to finish everything and move out of the country before Christmas.

We got the keys on the fifteenth of December and here we are now.

Christmas Eve.

It’s a perfect starter home, purchased with a down from Mark’s race winnings. His regular repair business was already picking up anyway, and we could easily qualify for a mortgage just based on that. But now, with Mr. DeSouza’s custom work beginning, the financial burden of home ownership will be a lot easier to carry.

We can even afford to put an addition on to the house, if we want. Maybe even this summer!

I can’t wait to have a vegetable garden. And flowers. And shrubs. And a pool.

And a dog! I can’t wait to have a dog! When I told Mark how much I’m looking forward to having a dog, he promised we would start looking at breeders this summer. I can’t wait.

I love Princess Poopypants, but I hope we get a bigger breed. A nice, big dog, that I can get down on the floor and wrestle with. And that we can bring to the shop with us! That’d be so cool.

Wandering into the kitchen to check on dinner, I’m full of contentment and warmth. Everything about this house feels good to me. The solid brick walls; the layout; the old oak floors; the old fashioned front door, and even the way the window over the kitchen sink looks out over the back yard.

I love how a roaring fire in the big old fireplace warms up the whole main floor.

Yeah. It’s a small house, but it has its advantages.

We really like the lot, and the location is perfect. Just a short drive from town, but still rural enough that it’s quiet and private.

We can grow into this house. With an addition of a couple more bedrooms on the main floor, another bathroom, a finished basement, and maybe, a big master suite in the attic…yeah. I can see us raising a family here.

I’m just finishing up wrapping the last of the gifts. I take them downstairs and put them under the Christmas tree, the first of what I hope will be many in this house.

Then I arrange our stockings, fussing with them, hanging them on the mantle, then switching their positions before switching them right back.

Twinkling lights sit atop green boughs and fake snow along the mantle, and lights adorn the windows, the stairway balustrade and a few of my potted plants, as well.

Santas and elves and garlands and faux snow and a Nativity scene completes my festive decor this year.

It’s been so much fun decorating our first new home for our first Christmas in it.

But, where’s Mark? I’ve got a nice fire going, dinner’s almost ready and he said he’d be home by seven.

It’s quarter past now. I hope he’s not doing any last-minute shopping. Geez! Easton Mall will be packed right now, he’ll never get out alive! We ordered most of our gifts online, but he did say there was one thing he had to pick up for me.

There! Headlights splash their glow across the front window and Mark’s truck pulls down the long country driveway.

Standing at the window, I watch as he climbs out of the truck. He’s looking kind of odd… hunched over, like his stomach hurts or something. He hurries to the front door, which I fling open from the inside.

“Hey baby,” he says, holding his coat closed and leaning down for a kiss.

“Are you okay?” I ask. “You’re walking funny.”

“I know!” he yells, triumphantly, before opening his coat to show me a brindle Mastiff puppy tucked into the bib of his overalls. “Ta da! Merry Christmas, baby!”

The puppy blinks at me sleepily, and then its ears go back and its body begins squirming with delight.

“Ahhh! You didn’t! You got a dog!”

“I did too! This is one of Gilda’s pups! Things’ve been so crazy, I didn’t even know she whelped until last week! All of the pups were spoken for except this guy.”

“Ohh, my God! I can’t believe this! Thank you! Thank you…he’s so beautiful!” I take the warm puppy from Mark and cuddle him close. “Oof, he’s heavy! He’s a boy?”

“Yes. Freddy said he was the last one left. He’s gonna email the dog’s papers. With his pedigree, I was lucky to get him.”

“My God, he’s huge! Look at his paws! And his ears!” I adjust the squirming puppy in my arms as he lashes my face with excited kisses.

“Freddy thinks this pup is going to go one-eighty, maybe two hundred-pounds. Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

“What? Shit! What’ll we feed him?”

“I dunno, small neighborhood children?” We both laugh giddily, making the dog wiggle even more excitedly. The dogs looks from me to Mark and back again, his ears lifting and laying flat, his eyebrows quirking and his pink tongue lolling as he chuffs puppyish laughter with us.

“How old is he?” I nuzzle his warm, soft head with my nose. Oh, heavenly puppy smell!

“He’s nine weeks old. Just weaned. I’m sorry I’m late, but I get a bunch of stuff for him before I picked him up. His bowls, a bed, some toys, a leash and all that…lemme grab it from the truck and we’ll get him all set up.”

* * *

After dinner, which we spend watching the dog as much as eating, we relax in the living room in front of the fire, playing with the pup on the floor.

Christmas carols playing softly, we lay back on a big fleece blanket, propped up on oversized pillows and drinking some spiced wine.

Mark holds his glass up. “Here’s to our first Christmas at home together, with the first member of our new family.”

“Mmm! Cheers,” I say, clinking his glass. “Now, we just have to give him a name.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that,” Mark says. “I noticed something about how he walks…look! Check it out…see?”

As the pup walks away from us, nose low to the ground and sniffing, I do notice it…his low, rolling gait, the unhurried way his hips rise and fall…there’s something very graceful about it.

Feline, almost.

“He…he’s so big, he kind of walks like a cat, doesn’t he?”

“Yes! That’s what I thought, too. A big cat! With those paws, the way they lift and fall, very graceful, especially for such a gangly young dog.”

We watch the pup silently now, sipping our wine, as he wanders to and fro, that sinuous roll to his gait reminding me more and more of a big cat. “Yes, he does kind of resemble a big cat,” I observe. “A lion, or a jaguar.”

“Or a tiger.”

“Yes! A tiger. With those brindle stripes, and the way his eyes are shaped, too…a little slanted, you see that? This feller really does kind of look like a tiger.”

“Raj,” Mark says. The dog stops and turns to look at him.

“Raj? Like, from the Jungle Book?”

Ears perked, the dog looks at me now, and then gambols towards me, ears back and tongue lolling.

Mark and I look at each other in amazement.

“Raj?” Mark says, and the dog instantly changes directions and climbs into Mark’s lap. “Well, damn. Would you look at that? I think he likes his name!”

“Raj it is, then,” I say, and we clink our glasses to that.

* * *

An hour or so later.

The fire is burning low and warm, the lights are dim. We’ve each opened a present and are now wearing them.

Mark’s in his new Christmas bathrobe, naked underneath, and I’m in a soft, red, low-cut frilly nightie, decorated with candy canes.

Also naked underneath.

We’re back on the fleece blanket, curled up together among the pillows and very, very relaxed.

Raj is sprawled in his brand-new bed, all four enormous paws hanging out of it.

“He’s too big for that bed already,” I say.

“Yeah,” Mark says. “I think I’m just gonna buy him an adult-sized dog bed and be done with it. He’ll grow into it by next month, by the looks of things.”

“Or just buy him a king-sized mattress, like ours.”

“Shit. Might as well give him his own room, too. He’ll need it!”

A snore drifts from the sleeping pup in our direction. Then, another, and another.

I giggle, turning to look at Mark.

Looking down at me, he smiles, then with one meaty arm, he pulls me close to him.

“C’mere, you sweet, sweet thang,” he croons, “get in the fort with me.” Planting a loud, wet smooch on me, he pushes me onto my back, opens his bathrobe and wraps it around us both.

Laying naked on top of me to pin me down, he grins, chuckling evilly.

I wrap my legs around his hips, flesh against flesh, and fold my arms around his head. Then I kiss his whole face. He holds still and lets me rub my face against his like a cat as he closes his eyes, taking it in.

His palms flatten themselves on my rib cage and follow my curves to my hips, where they lift the hem of my nightie, slip under my ass and knead my flesh restlessly.

Zero-ing in on his mouth, I kiss him until my pussy throbs against his belly, wet and warm.

His hardness grows against me, pressing me intimately. He tips his hips, rubbing me with it in all the right places.

I look up into his eyes. His gaze is intent, his eyes like dark pools in the low light. They crinkle a tiny bit at the corners before becoming serious again.

“Why don’t you sit back on your heels, Markus,” I whisper.

“Mmmm, yes ma’am,” he says, and does so, letting his robe fall open on either side of him.

Kneeling before him, I smile as his erection waves at me.

Taking it in my fist, I squeeze it and feel it pulse in response. He lets out a small moan.

Squeezing it tightly, then stroking it with a looser grip, I tease him until he groans and a pearl of moisture appears at the tip.

Bending forward, I kiss the tip and lick up the drop, getting my tongue a little way into the opening.

I gesture him to lay down, then I take my place between his legs and look up at him.

Laying back on a pillow, he props his arms behind his head so he can see me.

In the flickering firelight, he looks like a God.

Gripping his dick firmly, I flatten my tongue and use it to stroke the underside of his glans. He moans, his eyes closing in ecstasy.

I keep at it until he’s writhing, thighs rippling and toes flexing.

He puts his hands on either side of my head, lightly guiding my head and stroking my hair.

Light strokes on that sensitive underside, flicking and licking, slowly then quickly, teasing and backing off until his breath comes faster and faster.

Taking my time, I open my mouth and ssslurp his wide, rosy pink head into my mouth, first gently, so gently…teasing and flicking his urethral opening with the tip of my tongue.

He groans, his hands tightening on either side of my head, and pushes his hips forward.

“Ohhh, yeah…” he whispers, rocking his hips back and then thrusting gently forward again. “Mmmm…”

His moans, his strong but gentle hands on my head; the way his cock hardens and pulses in my mouth; all this brings an answering throb from my pussy. It clenches and throbs as I lick and nibble Mark’s sensitive tip, eliciting whispered encouragement and moans.

Increasing pressure now, I suck the tip of his cock, my swirling tongue augmenting the pleasurable suction, and he gasps as I slide my mouth down on his achingly hard cock as far as it will go. My head follows my hand, using a long, hard stroke with nice even pressure, before reversing the move back up his quivering length.

Up and down; swirling tongue; pulling back to tease and flick that tiny, tender opening, drawing mutters and moans of delight.

God, is there anything hotter in this world than a gorgeous man moaning in ecstasy?

I think not.

His trembling knees and quaking thighs testify his enjoyment, his hands caressing my hair and petting me so lovingly in response.

Lord have mercy! My pussy is soaked and throbbing and my need to be filled is rising fast.

Sliding mouth and gripping hand, swirling tongue, up and down, hard and soft, and his cock is raging and pulsing, my delight in having it in my control making me hot and slippery.

“Ohhhh God yeah, oh God…oh shit…shit…” he’s panting now, his thighs shaking with the need to thrust and pound. With my free hand, I cup his balls and roll them gently between my thumb and fingers. As soon as I do, they contract against the base of his dick.

He’s almost ready to come.

And that’s when he takes over. With a growl, he sits up and flips our positions, pushing me down onto my back once again.

He bends between my legs, holding them open forcefully.

One finger slips inside, easily sliding through my soaked folds into my opening. I sigh loudly and lift my hips towards the lovely pressure.

Thrusting his finger inside, he turns it upwards and strokes my G-spot, working on building that hot spot of pleasure until my jaw goes slack and my trembling legs fall all the way open.

Now slipping his wet finger into his mouth, he licks it clean. “Mmmm, so fucking yummy,” he says.

He collars my clit with his lips and applies suction, slipping that finger back inside. With an expert touch, he quickly increases that delectable tension, drawing a gasping moan from my throat as my fingers tangle themselves in his hair.

My legs rise and my toes curl as his tongue moves on my flesh, slicking and flicking, followed quickly by his lips as they suck and pull on my nub, making my pleasure rise and fall in waves. My moans and whispers tell him what a good job he’s doing, and with laser-like focus he steadily increases his pace until the pleasure catches…oh God, it catches, it catches hard, so hard my breath stops…and then I’m coming, I’m coming, and I can’t help it, my breath a ragged moan as my pussy contracts and creams into his eager mouth, his tongue lapping and lashing my flesh.

Quickly now, both of us breathing hard and trembling, he kneels between my legs, positioning his throbbing cockhead against my opening.

With one powerful thrust, he hilts himself within me, his eyes closing with pleasure as my still-contracting tunnel grips him powerfully.

He’s hard as steel, so hard it hurts, but only for a brief moment. “Fuck…uhhnnn…yeah…so tight…so hot…fuck! I’m gonna come…fuck…fuck…fuck!” His words are punctuated by deep, grinding thrusts.

His movements inside me create so much pleasurable friction now, it drives all thoughts from my head. I cry out again and again, my voice taking on a breathless quality, my hips churning to meet his, greedily pumping to extract every ounce of pleasure from his delicious cock.

Leaning up and backwards now, he puts both arms under my ass and, lifting my pelvis off the bed, he pulls my body close to his, holding my legs wide open.

He draws back and pounds me with abandon, pushing my breath from my lungs as his cock pistons in and out of me.

“Uhnn…mmm…uhnn…uhhhnnn!” Urgent growls followed by one final, hard thrust.

Holding his breath, sheathed inside me, his cock jumps and pulses as he releases his thick, hot load.

Collapsed in a heap, we gasp raggedly for a few minutes until we catch our breath.

Suddenly, I remember poor Raj.

“Oh, the dog! He’s probably cowering somewhere, scared half to death,” I say, struggling to sit up.

But there’s no need to worry.

The pup is still snoring softly, big paws twitching as he dreams his nine-week-old-puppy dreams.

“Aww! Poor little guy must be pretty pooped to sleep through that,” Mark laughs softly as I snuggle back down into his arms.

“I love you, Markus. Merry Christmas!”

He kisses my head and holds me close.

“Merry Christmas, baby. I love you, too.”