A/N: I don't own this, we all know who does. If I did, Rpattz would be spending Christmas with me...in my bed...while my hubs and kids open presents in the living room. What? I know what they all got, who do you think bought & wrapped all those suckers? :D
This is unbeta'd, so any and all mistakes belong to me. But you're probably too full of Christmas Cheer to really care. :D
This is for kitkat681. She asked me, bribed me with future chapters of her story Shattered Pieces. If you've read any of that, you KNOW why I jumped at the chance to get a peek at what's coming. Oh man...it's so good! :D This is also for Fran Richards and BloodRedLust, who both wanted to see a Christmas early on in Edward and Bella's life together.
This story is for my wifey, Mrs. Robward. She wraps the candy in her kids' stockings. Anyone else, I'd think they were crazy, but with her...it just makes sense. :D
Thanks to Luxure & EdwardsBloodType for prereading this. Well, I SENT it to them. Who knows if they read it. :D They have, like...lives, so you know. :D Oh, and EBT made the CUTEST little reindeer cakepops. There were pictures on FB. She's so crazy talented. :D
**disclaimer **
This story is a bit taboo. But hey, if you're into the whole Naughty Elf and Dirty Talking Santa thing, then this is the smutty outtake for you! :D Oh, and by the by, I posted a picture of Bella's outfit on the Facebook Worship Group. It's buried in a thread, so I'll post it again...just so it's easier to find. :D If you're not a member, you can friend me (BeegurlThirteen FanFiction) on there and ask me to let you in. I'll totally do it. :D It's a secret group...no one ever has to know... Well, other than the rest of us girls there. :D
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… Outtake Two – Second Christmas Together … Edward …
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The roads are empty, quiet, frozen over as I drive home. Home to you.
It's Christmas Eve, but since I'm the new man on the travel team at work, I got sent away. At least it was sunny and warm in Las Vegas. It still didn't dull my pain of missing you.
It's hard to believe it's been a year and a half since we moved into this house. Since we got married. Since my dreams came true.
The past year has been difficult, to say the least. Last year ended with Garrett's birth, the day after Christmas. The new year started with your hysterectomy, my worry of losing you. It continued with your sadness, depression, so many people helping us. We needed it, though I hated having to ask.
I only had so much time I could take from work to be with you. It broke my heart to leave you my first day back. You cried and cried in the shower, begging me to stay just one more day, that you'd be better by the next day, but I couldn't. Luckily, Mrs. Cope was there, she helped you, cared for you, comforted you while I was gone.
It was pointless for me to work that day. I got nothing done. It was too hard to accomplish anything since I was calling the house every five minutes, Googling mental health services near us, trying to figure out a way to get more time off work, but still pay the bills.
After a couple weeks, you were better. Even smiling, laughing. I tried every day to assure you, I had everything I needed. We had a beautiful daughter and a healthy, happy son. And I had you. What more could I ever need?
As summer approached, we had court dates. Jacob was so sure of himself, that he'd beat you. Again. The lawyer he hired was a joke, a friend of a friend. He was nothing compared to the attorney my father found for us.
We'd had a few visits with your kids, Kim and Alex. They were always short, always us going to them, always Jacob or his sad wife somewhere nearby. Finally, after that first court appearance, we had real visitations. Legal, court appointed visits, in our home.
The first time they stayed over, you slept with them both on the living room floor. I laughed as I turned out the light, seeing how happy you were, you laying in between them. I had thought with Alex being 15, he'd have wanted some privacy, or at least not to be slumber partying it up with his mom and 17 year old sister, but I was wrong. I could see how much he loved you, had missed you.
It made me happy.
As the fall progressed, and the kids got more comfortable with us, Jacob got scared. Worried. He tried to prove we were unfit, we were negligent, we were only after money. The judge laughed in his face. He had no proof. Nothing real, anyway.
When the judge asked the kids where they wanted to live, we were all shocked when they both said us. Our house. Kim was a senior in high school, Alex a sophomore. Would they really want to pick up, at the beginning of a new school year, and move away? Leave everything behind?
They did, though we convinced them to stay through the end of the semester.
School got out on Friday, and they were on our doorstep Friday night, suitcases, boxes, and all. It was perfect.
Then this fucking trip to Vegas came up. Out of no where. The biggest client, my ass. I had no choice, so Saturday morning I left you home, with four kids, as I flew off to support our family. I took comfort in the fact that I knew you needed the time with them, just you alone.
Claire was so happy. She'd always wanted a sister, and when we initially told her about your other children, she didn't really understand. Not until they started coming to stay with us. She followed Kim around like a little puppy, while looking up to Alex like he's a rock star or something. It's amazing to see the love between them, and it makes me happy.
Pulling into the driveway, I can see that the fresh snow's been shoveled away. I'm glad, hoping it wasn't you who did it. The snow on my parent's driveway across the street is gone, too. They just moved in a few months ago, and I hope and pray every day that they don't turn into Frank and Marie from that "Everybody Loves Raymond" show you love to watch. They'd drive us both crazy if they did.
Our lights are twinkling along the edge of the roof, the long icicle ones that you wanted, mixed with the blinking colored ones that Kim and Claire insisted on. Through the window I can see the tree is still lit, waiting to welcome me home.
For a moment I hope I find you under it. Wrapped in nothing but a bow. That's the only gift I need this year.
But I know that's not possible, not with two teenagers in the house. I learned that lesson rather quickly. They hear more than I thought they would. It only took one quiet breakfast, with whispered giggles between them, for us to figure it out.
I guess it was a good segue into the birds and bees talk. Though we had to explain some of the yelling and cursing that they'd heard.
I'd never seen you blush so much.
And it turned me the fuck on. Which was completely inappropriate. But I couldn't help it.
The house is quiet, dark as I walk in. The smells that waft through the air almost make me hit my knees. It's so good.
I can tell you've been baking.
I love your baking.
Although I don't love the 12 pounds I've gained over the past year and a half. I need to renew my gym membership. Even though I know you'll fight me about it. You seem to enjoy the "love handles" I'm starting to grow.
Silly woman.
I round the corner, into the living room, and it's then that I see you. Snuggled up on the sofa, your quilt around you, fast asleep. There's a plate of cookies and a glass of milk on the coffee table, with a note written in an eight year old's handwriting. She's so excited for Santa, I'm surprised you were able to get her into bed.
I want to wake you, kiss you, tell you I love you and Merry Christmas, but I don't. I watch you, memorizing—yet again—every inch of you. Your hair, how shiny it is. Your cheeks, how pink they are. Your lips, how soft they are. Your hands, how loving they are. Everything about you is amazing, perfect.
"You just gonna stand there and look at me all night or what?" I hear you say, your voice soft and low.
I look up, catching your eyes, seeing you smile.
"I can't help it. Looks like Santa left me a present, and I'm trying to imagine what it'll look like when I get it unwrapped."
You giggle, laughing at my attempt to woo you.
"Well, I can help you find out, if you want. Though I think he may have left some prettier wrapping somewhere else. Maybe I should go find it..."
I smile. Thoughts of you in something red, satiny, lacy... And I'm hard.
"The kids asleep?" I ask, needing to know before I let things get too far gone.
"Yep, a couple hours now. I know they're really out."
I smile and help you up, pulling you against me as I kiss you and kiss you and kiss you.
I can never stop with just one.
My hands move to cover your ass, squeezing it as I press my hard cock against your belly, letting you feel what you do to me.
"Go find that wrapping, I'll get these lights turned out."
You run off, a smile on your face.
The gifts are stacked around the tree, waiting for children to tear into them. I'm excited for Christmas morning. Not since I was a little boy, have I been this excited. Seeing our children gathered around our living room, laughing and talking and loving each other... It's more than I ever dreamed we'd have.
Turning off the lights, the house pitch black, I walk down the hall, wondering what you have planned. Once the door is locked and I'm in the room, you enter from the bathroom, and my heart skips a beat.
The kids had better be asleep, because the things I plan to do to you tonight would scar them for life.
And I don't give one shit about it.
You're wearing this red dress thing, with white fluffy stuff on your breasts. As you walk, I see your little silky panties flashing through the opening of the dress.
"I've been a very bad girl this year, Santa. I might need a spanking." Your finger goes to your mouth and you bite it, looking so coy and fuckable, I almost jump on you.
"Maybe Santa should decide for himself, don't you think? Are you my naughty little elf?" I ask.
You bat your eyelashes. "So naughty. And dirty."
My arm reaches out, fingers tracing along your shoulder, arm, to your hip. I pull you to me, letting my other hand push inside the dress, to your waist, where I grip your skin tight.
"Don't pull on these strings, Santa," you say, lifting a long, red tie with a white puff ball on the end of it. "If you do, my top will just pop right open, and my tits will bounce out. It would be so bad..."
I smile, grabbing the strand and tugging it a little. "You mean like this?"
"Oh, Santa...you're a naughty boy, aren't you?" you coo, your hand rubbing along my chest. Down, down, down until you're cupping me, rubbing your palm against my rock hard length.
"You have no idea of the dirty thoughts running through my head," I say, watching as the tie comes undone on your shirt, and the pieces spread apart a little bit.
I can see the crevice between your breasts, and I want to run my tongue through it.
When I pull it a little harder, the fabric moves more. Sure enough, your tits pop out, and I'm greeted by rosy, pink nipples. So hard, puckered. My hand can't stay away, and I rub my thumb over one, squeezing the other with my other hand.
Your head lulls back, my mouth moving to your neck.
"Uh, Santa, you don't know how much I've wanted you, how sexy you are," you moan, my lips attached to your skin, collarbones.
Your fingers move through my hair as your other hand slides up and down my cock, before quickly undoing my belt, button, zipper.
The cold skin of your fingers startles me for a second as your hand glides into my boxers, wrapping around my dick and stroking. Down and up, down and up. A little twist, and I'm moving my lips to yours.
Our tongues meet, tangling, tasting, dancing as we touch and whimper and love.
Before long, your dress thing is on the floor and you're only wearing little red panties and very high, very pointy red heels. You work over the buttons on my shirt, ridding me of it, then help me out of my pants.
"Santa," you croon into my ear.
"What do you want, Naughty Elf?" I ask between the wet kisses I'm placing all over your chest.
"Can I sit on your lap and tell you all the things I want for Christmas?"
I smile. "You want to sit on my lap, huh? I think that can be arranged."
Every time we have sex, I'm grateful for the chair you insisted we put in our bedroom. I didn't see the point of it, until the first time you rode me in it. And then the next time I bent you over the back of it. Now, it's one of my favorite places. I think I might buy you another one, just because.
I lead you to the chair, watching as you grab the waistband of my underwear and pull them down. Once I'm naked, I sit down, wondering if we should have this chair cleaned again. We fuck here a lot.
You straddle my waist, still wearing your red undies.
"You want Santa to help you take those off?" I ask, grabbing at the little ties on one side.
"Mmmmm, no, not yet, Santa. I want to feel your fingers inside of them, feel you pushing them to the side, like you just can't wait to be inside of me. I want to ride you while I have my panties on," you whisper against my ear, your hot breath on my skin.
A growl burns through my chest, and I grab you, pulling your chest against me, your lips to mine so I can kiss you, force my tongue into your mouth.
"Oh fuck yes, baby," I whisper as you grind onto my hard, waiting cock. Your finger runs over the tip of me, feeling the bead of cum that's there.
You still as you raise your hand to your mouth, your tongue reaching out to lick the taste of me from your fingertip. "Mmmmmm, yeah," you moan, your eyes sliding closed.
I can't wait any longer, and I reach down to your pussy, pushing the silky material aside and plunging my fingers into you. You're so wet and ready for me, like always. I line us up, and then I'm inside of you, thrusting up as you bounce in my lap. Your tits shake in front of my face while your head drops back.
One hand is grasping your hip, the other hand is splayed out across your chest, feeling your heartbeat, touching the muscles in your neck, groping your breasts as they jerk up and down. You lean back, bracing your hands on my thighs as you moan, sigh, hum in delight.
"Oh Santa, yes, Santa. Oh yes, like that Santa. Oh yes!" Your voice gets louder and louder, more lust ridden, as I pound harder and harder into you.
My hand that's been on your chest moves down, finds your clit, and starts to rub. Little circles, over and over and over again. I can tell you're close, and I know I am, too. I've been away from you for four days. This is just what happens when I go that long without being inside of you.
"Oh yes!" you yell, "Santa, yes!" as your body starts to shake, move erratically over me. I let go, remember what you looked like when I watched you dance the first time. How you're still just as beautiful now as you were then. How much more I love you now than I did then.
And I'm cumming, falling over the edge with you. Letting out grunts and groans and gasps. Not nearly as sexy as you sound, but you seem to like it.
We're still for a few moments, catching our breath, and then you curl into me, your head in the crook of my neck, my arms around your waist.
"Merry Christmas, baby," I softly say, kissing you lightly on your head.
"Merry Christmas," you whisper, lifting your head to kiss me, a sweet, soft, tender kiss. "Come to bed with me."
And I do. Just like always. As if you'd have to ask.
We wake up early, thanks to the banging of fists on our door by a very excited little girl.
"Get up! Get up!" she yells to us. We hear her footsteps running up and down the hall, waking up everyone else in the house.
You groan when you hear Garrett start to cry.
"I can't believe he'll be a year old tomorrow," you say.
"Time flies, doesn't it?"
You smile. "It does when your life is perfect."
After a few sweet kisses, the fists are pounding on our door again. We're both up, dressed, presentable.
The kids sit on the floor, near the tree, Garrett crawling all over you as he drinks his morning bottle and points to things. He's a pretty baby, though I hate to admit that my son is pretty. Then again, you tell me all the time how pretty I am. I don't mind hearing that from you.
"Oh, look what I got!" Claire yells, for the fifth time. Kim and Alex just laugh, then continue opening their gifts. Becca arrives soon, and I see your eyes sparkle just a little more. It's so beautiful, watching you be so happy.
Once gifts are open, it's time for breakfast. I sit at the counter, or breakfast bar as you like to call it, surrounded by children, helping Garrett eat his crackers as he sits in his high chair, banging his cup against the tray. I think he'll be a drummer, that boy.
"Daddy, I knew you would get home last night," Claire says, before spooning another bite of waffles into her mouth.
"You did? How did you know?" I ask, laughing as she wipes at the whipped cream on her nose.
"Because Santa brought you home. I heard it."
My brow wrinkles a bit. "You did? You heard Santa bring me home?"
"Yep."
I'm curious, wondering where she came up with this.
"What makes you think Santa brought me? How come I didn't just drive myself?"
"Well, I heard Mommy talking to him."
You pause, slowly turning around to face us.
"You did?" I ask. Alarms are beginning to go off in my head.
"Yeah. She was yelling 'Oh yes, Santa! Yes!' in your room last night, so I know she was happy that Santa brought you home."
Your face turns bright red. My heart stops. Alex starts to gag. Kim mutters under her breath, "I think I'm gonna be sick." Becca sits back, smiling at us both.
"I love this house," she says.
Claire continues to happily eat her breakfast. Garrett banging away on his high chair. Alex trying to focus on his new DS game. Kim mumbling to herself about her horny parents. Becca watching all of us with a look of happiness on her face.
I stand up, pushing away from the counter and walking into the kitchen where you are. Your eyes watch me, worried about what I'm going to do.
Walking up to you, I pull you into my arms, dipping my head down to yours. "Merry Christmas, Baby," I whisper just before I kiss you silly.
We're surrounded by groans, giggles, gagging. But we don't care. This is our house, our family, our Christmas.
And it's perfect.
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A/N: Hope you all have a very Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, and everything in between! I've got more outtakes in the works, so keep this baby alerted. That way you'll see them when they pop up. :)
Reviews are better than kids overhearing you doing the deed. Even when they don't know EXACTLY what you're doing. Trust me...
Leave one.