Alice Winterhold

Twas' a few nights after Christmas

Added 2024-12-30 18:10:20 +0000 UTC

It’s a few nights after Christmas. You rub your eyes, itchy from staring through the week long dissociative episode you just snapped out of; The dread of the season has mostly been excreted and now only a few smears are left to wipe way.

You’re warm and snuggly, sunk into the familiar pillows of your sofa, inexplicably dressed in loose cotton pyjamas. The scent of fresh laundry mingles with the golden aroma of burning logs; a gentle knocking to your right draws your attention. A bulked mass of tartan is hunched packing wood into the fireplace, slowly a grateful peace floods the room. A warming glow and soft crackling.

Without a word he leaves to clatter in the kitchen whilst you collect your marbles, then he returns smiling reassuringly and hands you a steaming hot turkey sandwich. Turkey, sausage, gravy, cranberry sauce and butter. Perfection. You eat it like you don’t remember eating for a full week prior as he sits down to cuddle up next to you.

Silently you share the moment, aside from him chuckling while showing you a photo of a knitted buffalo bill he found on reddit. It did look like a Femboy with blue stockings, you agreed. It’s quite difficult to imagine ever feeling any more content than you did right then.

It is sudden but welcome when his hands slip around your waist then slide your pyjama trousers down, trailing kisses down your legs to your feet, then trailing kisses back up again.

If heaven were a place on earth, it would be on that sofa, with a tummy full of turkey, submerged in the warmth of the fire, listening to the ambient sounds of the crackling fireplace and his lips gently smacking around your clit.