This is a one shot for Christmas. One of three One shots for Christmas. Hope you enjoy it. And Hope you all have a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or the wrestlers in this story. I own only my oc. This story is fiction and is to be taken that way. No Copyright Infringement Intended.

Warning: Sexual Content.

"Baby, you know I'd give anything to be home right now ... you know that. I can't help that my plane is grounded. This snow is ridiculous."

"I know, I know." John Cena sighed, running a hand over the front of his face, as if that would relieve his frustration. "It's just ... this is our first Christmas together. I was hoping to spend it all cuddled up in front of the fireplace or something." He could just imagine his wife's face at the moment: a mixture of frustration, exasperation, and guilt. He knew it wasn't her fault, but he could blame her job in a round-a-bout sort of way. "Alison, I'm sorry. I love you."

"I love you, too," she replied. "Let me go for now, I'm going to go check the weather reports and see if I can't get someone to tell me what my prospects are. ... maybe there's a bus or something?"

"You'd take a bus from Michigan to Boston?"

"If I have to, yes." John heard her sigh. "Don't sound so surprised, I'm not that high maintenance."

John chuckled. "If you insist, my love."

"I'm sticking my tongue out at you," Alison said.

"I'll return the favor. But I'll let you go. Call me when you hear something, okay?"

"Okay," she replied, voice sobering to a more somber tone. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

"Okay, 'bye."

"'Bye."

John stared at the black cordless phone in his hand for a moment before hitting the 'off' button. He took a look around their decorated living room and sighed, sliding easily onto the couch. The Christmas tree was still a bold, emerald green, with its colorful lights glancing off of the shiny silver bulbs his mother-in-law had bought them. John had spent an hour trying to light a fire in the fireplace, having gone through at least a newspaper and a half. The coffee table was laden with small place settings and he mentally checked off the items chilling in the fridge: spaghetti and sauce (the first meal he'd ever cooked for her) waiting to be reheated, as well as a bottle of Alison's favorite wine, and a plate of chocolate covered strawberries that he wanted to share with her later. All of this he had set up, prepared, and worked so hard to keep a secret for when his wife returned home from her business trip. Instead, it looked as though he were going to be facing his first married Christmas Eve alone — well, possibly with some chocolate covered strawberries.

John hated her boss for this; there had always been some tension there, as Alison's boss was a man's man who loved having control over his employees — especially his females. While they were dating, John had witnessed him making out with several of the company's secretaries in various nooks and crannies of the party hall where their company often hosted events. Alison did not disbelieve him when he'd mentioned these stories, concerned for her well-being at the office, but she assured him that he knew better than to harass her and that John had nothing to worry about. Now he was sure her boss had planned this last minute business trip, so close to Christmas, with spite and revenge in mind for John's ill feelings, which he had never bothered to hide.

"If that's what I get for loving my wife ..." he said absently, to the empty room at large.

Before his mind could go any further, the phone in his hand began to ring. John checked the Caller ID before hitting the 'talk' button. "Hey, man, what's up?" he asked, recognizing the number of his brother-in-law and best friend, Mike.

"Nothing much," he replied quickly, "listen, Ma was wondering if you two had reconsidered coming over to spend Christmas Eve here. She's being a bit ... persistent, actually."

"I'll bet," John replied, wry grin forming on his face. "What's she having?"

"The usual," Mike replied, "baked ziti and a bunch of appetizers. You'll never hear the end of it if you don't come for at least an hour. I mean, I know you had other plans ..."

"Yeah, well, my other plans have been snowed in," John said. "Alison hasn't even left Michigan yet because there's too much snow on the ground."

"Damn, John, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well ..." John paused for a moment, considering. "I guess I could come over for a little while. It's better than sitting around here the whole night by myself."

"Great, I'm sure she'll be glad to hear it ... gives her someone else to pick on besides me."

John laughed. "Great." He swung his legs over the side of the couch, preparing to stand up. "All right, see you in a bit."

"'Bye, man. Oh — and be careful, it's freezing outside. Some of the roads are questionable from this afternoon's rain."

"Thanks. 'Bye."

John took one last look around his empty and wifeless living room. As he put on a coat and looked around for his keys, John reflected on the past week and a half without Alison. The house had been empty when he'd returned home from work, the lights off the way that he left them. There was no warmth, no hot meals when he'd walk through the door, no kiss and a "Try this," from his wife followed by a hot spoonful of whatever delicious concoction she'd thought of making that night. Alison was a magnificent cook, and loved trying new combinations of things. Her creativity was not restricted to the kitchen, though, and John's body physically ached at the fact that he hadn't shared his bed with Alison in too long a time.

He tried to push thoughts of her smooth, warm skin from his mind, or the way that she gasped for breath when his tongue found that special spot on the inside curve of her hip or the way she rode him, with a twist and roll of her body that sent her breasts bouncing and mind reeling. His pants began to feel tight.

John pushed himself out the front door quickly, inhaling the deep, cold air of the early evening and watched the neighbor's children working on the last lingering remains of a fort from the other day's snow as he walked to his car. Setting off towards his mother-in-law's house, he couldn't help but think, "This is going to be a long night."

Alison's mother always had a way of complimenting you in a way that made what she said seem like an insult. Mrs. Mizanin was an older Italian woman that, while gifted in the kitchen, was not necessarily gifted in interpersonal relations. Mike was there to greet him as he pulled up.

"Finally," Mike said as John walked up to the door. "Someone else to pick on. Alison just got off the phone with her and now she's pissed that her baby girl isn't going to be home for the holidays." He opened the door, letting John walk in first.

"John!" Mrs. Mizanin called. "I'm glad you are here — take your shoes off you're dragging mud on the carpet."

"Hi, Ma," John said. He slid off his shoes and looked around to meet the other bemused faces gathered in the dining room off to the side of the living room.

"Just in time to eat," she said starting to walk back to the kitchen. "Always just in time to eat." John laughed and followed her into the dining room. He said a quick hello to Mike's wife, Hope.

It was definitely a long night. John looked at the glowing green clock of his car as he began to pull away. He'd only been at the Mizanin's house for two hours, but it had felt like an eternity. All he was looking forward to now was a hot shower and possibly some senseless TV. He checked his cell phone again for about the twenty-fifth time since he left his home only to note that there were no missed calls. Alison was clearly taking her time trying to find someone to tell her what the likelihood of ever leaving Michigan was.

John fiddled with the temperamental door handle of their house and pushed his way inside. The first thing he noticed was the warmth — the fireplace was still going. He had thought that it would have died by the time he returned home. The next thing he noticed was the beautiful gift waiting for him beneath the Christmas tree.

"Brrr — come in, baby, it's cold out there."

John quickly shut the door, half-stunned. His wife was lying just in front of the Christmas tree in the most delicious looking lingerie. It was Christmas red and lacy, tied in the front of her chest with green ribbon. He watched as she slowly stood up, and noticed the lacy red G-string that went along with it, all the way down to the stockings that disappeared into mid-calve red boots, outfitted in white fir at the top. As if that weren't enough, she had a fluffy red Santa hat on her head. She pushed the ball out from her face as she leaned in to kiss him.

"Mm," she murmured. "Here, baby, try this."

Before he could respond, John found one of the chocolate covered strawberries being pushed gently against his lips. His eyes never left her soft, tanned face or doe-like brown eyes as his mouth parted and he took a bite; the tartness of the juice woke his mouth up and was soothed away quickly by the creamy milk chocolate. He watched as she nibbled the rest of the chocolate and fruit away before walking back over to place it on the coffee table. She watched him slowly as one solitary finger brushed away a lingering piece of chocolate from the corner of her mouth.

"Well," Alison began, "are you going to just stand there or do you want to unwrap your present?"

The keys he didn't even realize he was still holding dropped to the floor with a clatter of metal-on-metal-on-carpet. John quickly unbuttoned his coat and let it fall to the floor behind him as he crossed the living room in three strides. His hands found the lace covering her hips and he gently pulled her forward, feeling the warmth of her body through the cold of his clothing. She shivered.

John's mouth immediately went to hers. He kissed her fiercely, with the pent up frustration of twelve days without kisses. Her mouth opened to him almost immediately and her arms went to his waist and slowly up the back of his shirt. Alison pulled herself closer to him, body on fire, in spite of the chill to his skin, wanting nothing more than to melt into him.

John broke for breath and let his lips dance down her neck, flickering his tongue at the corner of muscle and bone. She gasped.

"Oh, God, John ... I missed you."

"I missed you, too, sweetheart." John kissed her hair, inhaling the light floral scent that was so familiar it sent a sensual pang right to his core. "I just had to endure two hours at your mother's house listening to her talk about how awful airports were these days."

"Aww ... poor baby," she cooed, finding the sensitive spot on his neck and suckling it 'til he gasped with pleasure. John cast his eyes downward, enjoying the feel of her lips and tongue and her body's general proximity.

"I do recall having more strawberries before I left, though," he murmured into her ear, nipping gently at the lobe before pulling slightly away. Alison had the graces to look sheepish.

"I may have eaten a few while waiting for you."

John laughed and bent to kiss her again, searing her lips with his down fiery kiss. He no longer had intentions for pleasantries — well, of the verbal kind anyway.

Alison's hands continued to caress his bare back beneath his grey shirt. Quickly, she pulled it up and broke their kiss to tug it over his head. It fell with no sound to the floor. Alison's hands found his chest.

John reveled in the feel of her heat being pressed against him through the lace; he pulled her closely to him again. He could feel her nipples hardening and caressing him through the cloth. He could also feel the strain of his manhood hardening, pressing almost painfully against his jeans. As if she'd read his mind, Alison ground her hips up against his hard bulge and he gasped sharply, sucking air through his teeth at the exquisite feel of it. Alison moved her lips to his neck and chest as she slowly undid his belt and the button and zipper of his jeans. Once loose, her hands pulled them down, fingers caressing him.

"That's a sight for sore eyes," she said quietly, crouching down to pull his pants and boxers down all the way. John moaned as he slipped off his shoes and stepped out of his clothes, feeling her warm breath near his hardness. John sucked a breath quickly through his teeth. Then her lips wrapped around him. John's knees buckled. He brushed his fingers through her soft hair, knocking the hat back to the floor. The sweet vibrations of her mouth were pushing him to the edge.

"Oh, God, baby." Her head was bobbing up and down now, the heat of her mouth stroking his entire length. She sucked him with expert movements, teasing him at first then bobbing more quickly. "Yesss, baby ... oh, fuck. You're gonna' make me cum ..."

When she was finished, Alison looked up at him from her knees, licking her lips, an innocent smile in her eyes. John fell to his knees and kissed her hard, tasting his lingering essence on her tongue. His mouth found her neck, then her ear as he whispered, "That was amazing."

"Good," she murmured, the hint of a giggle in her voice. He pulled away to kiss her on the mouth again, then simply looked at her, flush-face and swollen lips. His fingers found the green ribbon that held her lacy baby doll shut and gave it a quick tug. John pushed the material off her tan and toned shoulders and off her body onto the plush, carpeted floor. His fingers trailed, feather-light, along the lush curves of her hips and he brought them slowly up to her breasts. Alison shivered.

John took one lovely, taut nipple into his mouth, closing his blue eyes as he relished in the feel of the warm flesh between his lips. John gently squeezed her supple body to him as he suckled gently on each breast in turn.

"Oh, John," Alison whimpered.

"Lay down," he whispered, blue eyes ablaze with lust, love, and firelight. Alison lay down on her back as John fumbled with the panties and stockings. Slowly, teasingly, he slipped them off over her toned legs, throwing them atop her boots. John's hands trailed along her inner thighs, pausing as he kissed a spot here and there. Alison lay there before him, nearly under the Christmas tree, quivering and breathless.

"Oh, John," she sighed, "please."

His tongue darted out to taste her. Alison bucked.

"Mm," he murmured, "you taste so sweet." His tongue rolled over her clit as one finger slowly caressed and parted her folds. John slid it slowly inside of her, feeling the lingering tightness of a week's worth of pent up frustration.

Alison moaned. "Oh, John, please ..."

He slipped in a second finger and started up an easy rhythm. "Oh, yes, baby ... oh yeah ... oh yeah ..." Alison whimpered. Her hips bucked with each thrust of his fingers causing him to brush her g-spot which slowly began building her climax.

Alison mewed and moaned, loving the feel of John's mouth and fingers on her. But she had missed him terribly and wanted more.

"John, please fuck me ... please. I've missed you so much ...!" John's fingers were driving her wild, however she adjusted when he removed them. John didn't need to be told twice. John groaned as he slowly pushed himself all the way in. Alison gave a shout of pleasure as he brushed up against her spot, finally in. John pumped himself in and out a couple of times.

John then fell forward over her, kissing her fervently on the lips. She "mm"-ed into his mouth as he slowly began to fuck her, sliding in and out of her. Alison's hands raked themselves up his back and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. Alison's mouth and teeth found his neck as he pushed harder, faster.

"Oh, yesss ... baby, you feel so good," Alison whimpered. She raised her hips to meet his thrusts, feeling his thickness stretch her out and massage every inch of her.

"I love you, baby," John whispered into her neck, breathless, trying to push himself deeper inside of her.

"I love you, too," she said. "Oh, God, yes, baby. Oh, John, please ..."

John could feel his orgasm coming, building slowly. He looked down at Alison's face and saw that she was nearing climax as well. Her face was flushed, her eyes glazed, her breasts bouncing up against his chest as they both tried to fuck harder, to pull him deeper. Alison's mouth parted slightly as she moaned, nipping and kissing at his neck. "Oh, yes, baby ... I'm gonna' cum ... oh yes, John!"

Alison met his next few thrusts hard, feeling him brush her g-spot over and over. Alison threw her head back as she came with a cry. Her back arched into him and she momentarily lost her ability to do anything but feel the waves of absolute pleasure tingling and traveling all over her body. It was like she had exploded. Her walls clenched tightly around him, teasing him forward toward completion. Alison's tightness and cries sent him over the edge.

John all but collapsed on top of his wife, leaning to kiss her with mind, heart, body, and soul. Alison's hands stroked their way through his hair, now damp with sweat, as his head came to lay on her chest.

"I love you," Alison murmured, "Merry Christmas, baby."

"Merry Christmas," he replied softly, drifting off slowly into a sated doze with the best Christmas present he'd ever received, in front of the still-glowing fireplace.

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