Sexual Relationships 
Sexual Health 
Seraphine sat on the edge of her chair, tightly gripping the cloth of her skirt in her hands, which was quite a feat given how short the skirt was. That was the problem with dressing in a sexy Christmas getup: it left you feeling rather awkward outside of a very specific context.
She eyed the grandfather clock that slowly kept ticking away. He would be home any minute now. It was Christmas Eve, there was no way that he would work late tonight as well. Heavens, wouldn’t that just be the most ironic thing she could imagine? On the night that she wanted to reward him for all his hard work at the office, her husband coming home late and too tired to actually have any fun?
Before she knew it, Seraphine had nodded off, her chin resting daintily in her palm. When the front door opened, she thought it was a dream. When the tall man loomed over her, blocking out the soft light of the fireplace, she thought it was just another one of her fantasies about her husband.
“Joe,” she slurred in her half-dazed state. “You look wonderful.”
And he truly did. There were traces of soft, powdery snow on his hair and broad shoulders. His face, though half in shadow, was clearly lit by a warm smile.
“Were you planning on surprising me, Sera?” he asked, his low rumble of a voice doing unspeakable things to her insides.
Seraphine grinned foolishly, but only for a moment. Once she got past the feeling of his voice and understood exactly what he was saying, she snapped upright, covering her gasp with both hands.
How embarrassing!
But Joe just kept right on smiling, folding his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “So… what’s the costume? Sexy Santa?”
Seraphine looked down at the little red number with puffy white trim. Hopefully the lighting was too poor for him to see that she was blushing about the same color on every bit of skin that was visible.
Still, she only had one shot at this, and she wasn’t going to let a little sleepiness ruin everything.
“Ho ho ho?” she asked tentatively, shaking the little bells that adorned her costume.
Joseph laughed at that, a deep, mirthful sound that came straight from his belly. He shook where he stood, and just like that, everything was right in the world once more. It didn’t matter that she’d fallen asleep, and it didn’t matter that he’d come home late. All that mattered was that they were here together now, on this wondrous Christmas Eve.
Seraphine rose to meet him, naturally folding into his bearlike embrace. It was an intimacy that they had shared a thousand times before, but this was infused with special meaning. Amidst the holiday cheer, there was a little surprise waiting for Joe.
“Look up,” she murmured as she burrowed her face even deeper into his chest.
He did so, bringing him face to face with the sprig of mistletoe that she’d barely managed to hang from the top of the doorframe.
“And what do we have here?” he rumbled, the vibrations spreading from him to every inch of her body.
“I think you know.” It came out so muffled that he couldn’t possibly hear her exact words, but he knew her well enough anyway.
“I think you might be right about that. But Seraphine?”
She reluctantly pulled back out of his warm, protective embrace to peer up at his face. He was grinning, but then again, when wasn’t he grinning at her? And when wasn’t she grinning right back?
“Yes, darling?”
He bent down and kissed her, a light, joyous reunion that slowly morphed into something more. His hands held her tight, but squeezed and explored in equal measure. He reveled in her form, in taking her breath away, in tasting everything her mouth had to offer. When he finally did pull away, Seraphine was left shaking and barely able to stand up on her own.
“It’s hard to kiss you when you’re burying your face in my chest,” he explained, his face now surely just as red as hers, but it was a merry glow that filled her with both satisfaction of a job well done and white-hot anticipation of what the future surely held.
“Oh,” was all that Seraphine could manage. It wasn’t his words that had her at a loss, but the way his gaze had turned hungry and migrated a little further south.
“It’s a wonderful costume,” he murmured. “Such a shame that I want to see what’s under it even more.”
Seraphine didn’t put up anything resembling a fight as he lifted her as easily as if she weighed nothing and carried her over to the fireplace. In seconds, he’d laid his coat down on the cold hardwood floor, and then set her down upon it. On her back, staring up at him, she knew that he could see absolutely everything, and he didn’t even try to hide it.
As Joseph stripped out of his clothes, piece by piece, revealing his skin inch by inch, Seraphine could only watch with bated breath. She was already imagining all the ways that he might ravish her, and all the things that they would do both tonight and tomorrow.
And then he was free from the prison of clothing, or at least free enough for his intended purpose. With a single forceful motion, he yanked her skirt down and bared her to the heat of the fire. Even so, it paled in comparison to the urgent, blistering passion that came from the joining of their flesh as he settled atop her.
“Merry Christmas, Seraphine,” he whispered.
She tried to respond, but he was a clever man, and so he guided himself inside her. Her words of love and affection melted into a whimpering moan of pleasure and long-awaited release. She loved this man more than anything else in the world, but more than that, she knew that he loved her right back. It was the same thing they did every Christmas Eve, and somehow, it had never gotten old.
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