Mr And Mrs Claus

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A howling wind sent a pair of bundled up figures darting towards an old cottage, following the path that was being increasingly covered over by a dusting of snow. They tightly grasped their packages and wrapped boxes as they reached the brightly lit porch. Eager to escape the biting cold, the slimmer of the two produced a key and unlocked the door, granting salvation from the impending blizzard.

Lucy Ambish gently laid down her boxes and pulled her thick hood down, revealing her thick mane of strawberry blonde hair. She shivered as she unzipped her coat, desperate to try and locate whatever form of built-in heating the cottage had.

“I knew the weather reporters said we were in for a snow storm, but I wasn’t expecting an entire arctic circles worth. Honey, could you find the lights?” Lucy asked

Her son Mark placed his own set of packages down next to hers and walked through to the unlit living room, running his hand along the wall, eventually feeling the panel and hitting the trio of available switches. One by one, the rooms of the small cottage began to light up, giving the pair a complete view of their quaint little getaway location, showing off the cozy, if dated interior.

“Looks a little more modern than I was expecting, but not by much,” Mark admitted, kicking the snow off of his boots, “this place might actually have Wi-Fi. Maybe we won’t be completely cut off from the rest of the world.”

“Don’t be a spoil sport,” Lucy replied with a pout, giving Mark’s arm a playful swat, “Christmas is meant to be a family celebration, not a time to check Twitter every five minutes. Besides, your brothers will be arriving some time tomorrow morning. And before you go exploring take off your boots, your aunt won’t be happy if she finds out you’ve tracked mud through her vacation home.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mark smiled, crouching down to untie his laces, watching as his mother did the same.

Though Mark tried to not notice, even he couldn’t deny that his mother was an incredibly youthful looking woman, always mistakenly identified as being in her early twenties rather than her actual age of thirty-nine. Her divorce from Mark’s father almost five years ago had spurred her on to focus on her career, eventually reaching a management level position at a family owned chain of stores that expanded across her home city and beyond through determination alone.

As successful as she had become, making more money than she ever had when she was married, she felt as though she had missed out on her sons growing up. A few instances of her career driven nature had resulted in a number of holidays having to be delayed by a few days, if they were even marked at all, a fact that placed her marriage under significant strain. As her sons grew older and matured, they became more understanding of the odd explanation for Halloween taking place for them during November rather than the day of. But the feeling of guilt never quite left her.

It eventually led to her decision to go all out with a true Christmas celebration for just her and the boys, somewhere far away enough to prevent her from being lured away by anything work related. She knew her sister Rebecca and her husband had a small little vacation home squirrelled away deep in the forest as a summer get away, and with a little sisterly coaxing she managed to obtain the keys and put her plans into motion.

Mark was by far the easiest of her boys to convince. Being just a few months into his first year at college, he hadn’t yet been swept away by the lifestyle of a single college student, still very much suffering from the faintest pangs of home sickness. Her other sons, Anthony and James, were both already fairly embedded in their own respective college lives, far more reluctant to separate themselves from their girlfriends. Eventually, after a number of hours bartering on the phone, Lucy made the concession to allow them to communicate with their girlfriends, just as long as Christmas morning was the exception.

“What time do you think they’re coming in?” Mark asked as his mother divested herself of her warm layers of clothing before the snow melted and the freezing cold water was soaked up.

His eyes couldn’t help but glide over her body as she set her clothes out to dry on an old wooden rack that was nestled away in the corridor. The pink turtle neck sweater she wore, along with a tight fitting pair of jeans that hugged her long legs and heart shaped rear made it nearly impossible for him to stop himself from admiring how well she managed to keep herself in shape, especially after the turmoil of the divorce.

He knew it wasn’t easy for her to be an empty nester, especially when she was the only one occupying the once bustling family home. She had the occasional company of her friends and younger sister, along with a visit from the slightly more intimate ‘friends’ that Mark felt no desire to inquire about. But Mark always felt a sense of guilt for leaving her on her own. When his mother explained her plans for Christmas he was more Demetevler Escort than ready for it, hoping to make it one of the best they ever had.

“Sometime tomorrow morning, though knowing them you can guarantee we’ll be knee deep in wrapping paper before they roll up the drive. I think they’re trying to fit in two weeks of loving into a single Christmas Eve, those poor girls,” Lucy grinned knowingly, brushing a loose lock of blonde hair behind her ear.

“Anthony did mention something about locking himself in a room with Maria for a day before setting off. I suppose you’re glad that I haven’t found myself a girl yet that’ll keep me distracted like that?”

“You bet,” Lucy replied as she picked the gifts back up and passed them over to her son, pointing to a small space in front of a bay window, “I get to keep you all to myself for a while longer before the lust monster rears its head.”

Mark stacked the gifts in a neat pile, creating a haphazard pyramid shape, hoping it would create a good image when cast in the light of the morning sun when it poured through the window. “Shame there’s no tree to put them under. Aunt Rebecca really only uses this place for two weeks in a year, doesn’t she?”

“Rebecca tends to have more money than sense sometimes. She even spent twenty grand on a BMW that she uses just for the weekend,” Lucy said, folding her arms as she admired Mark’s work. “Looks great, honey. If there’s a career out there for present and gift arrangement, I bet you would excell.”

Mark rolled his eyes in amusement, wrapping an arm around his mother’s waist as they looked at his handiwork. He felt her head tilt to the side to rest if against his shoulder, allowing him to take in the scent of her Chanel perfume. “Very funny. So what’s the plan for the rest of the evening? Unless you want to stand here and keep staring at wrapped boxes?”

Lucy released herself and walked over to a medium sized box still sat in the hallway, with its flaps held together by a small piece of tape. She picked it up and planted it down on a beige couch that seemed to have barely been used since its initial purchase. “As wonderful as that sounds, we have work to do. Without a Christmas tree to put up we’re going to have to compensate in the best way we can.”

She opened the box and pulled out a variety of decorations that she had brought from the basement of the family home. Long strands of tinsel were pulled out and laid across the sofa seat, along with a few feet worth of garland that had lights built into them. Most important of all, Lucy picked up a small ceramic angel, usually kept as a topper for a tree.

The pair went to work sticking and nailing the decorations to the walls and ceiling, with Mark helping to lift his mother up high to reach the areas he alone struggled with without the aid of a ladded. Having his hands wrapped around his mom’s jean-clad thighs sent a twinge directly to his core as he guided her along the length of the room, especially when his thumbs began to slide towards the curve of her perfect rear.

Lucy pulled out a ball of Christmas lights, spending fifteen minutes unwinding the wires, eventually surrounding the small fireplace with them. She gave Mark the honour of plugging it in, standing back to admire her handiwork. Not yet satisfied, she held out the angel and asked Mark once again to lift her up to the curtains just above the bay window, intending to tape the angel to the pole. Mark was more than happy to comply, immediately experiencing the same peculiar twinge as he elevated her.

Finally, after almost an hour of decorating, the pair collapsed onto a white rug that sat in front of the fireplace and assessed their effort. They smiled as they looked around, surprised that they managed to find a use for every decoration, bringing a festive spirit to a drab cottage that had only ever utilised during the summer. The lights added a flair that tied their work together, giving the living room a slightly more personal quality as the glow of the flashing lights bathed the worn out couple.

“Not a bad effort, huh?” Lucy asked, placing her hand over her son’s. “I know not having a tree takes away from the Christmas spirit, but it’s not a bad attempt at making do with what we have. Is it”

“Christmas tree? Who needs it when you have a mom with such a keen eye for decorating?” Mark smirked, interlacing his fingers with his mom’s, running a finger across her red painted nails. “I think this is already on track to being one of our best Christmases in years.”

Lucy beamed up at him, letting out a gentle yawn as she looked at the wooden grandfather clock ticking away in the corner. “It’s already one in the morning? We must’ve really let time slip by.”

Mark stood up and helped his mom to her feet. “Like they say, time flies when you’re having fun.”

The pair made their way up the stairs and made a quick job out of exploring the upstairs area, searching every room for the one that suited their needs. Mark pulled open Demetevler Escort Bayan a door towards the end of the corridor, only to have the contents of a storage closet begin to fall towards him, finding himself saved by his mom when she lunged in front of him to push the items back and slam the door shut.

Mark continued looking for a room with a heavy blush on his face, aware of the mocking smile on his mom’s face as she followed behind. He opened a light brown door and discovered the master bedroom, complete with its own adjoining bathroom. A king size bed sat against the wall facing the doorway, covered in a matching set of silk pillows and sheets, flanked by a pair of ‘his and hers’ drawers. A frost coated window provided an excellent view of the snow covered forest clearing. Before he had a chance to step inside to inspect the bedroom further, his mother darted past him.

“Sorry, honey, but the parent gets priority over the children when it comes to ownership over the master bedroom,” she smiled, grabbing the brass door handle, “I think you’ll find your cousin’s room just across from mine.”

“But Thomas is half my age,” Mark countered.

“Look on the bright side, Marky, maybe there’ll be some toys in there to keep you entertained,” Lucy raised her eyebrows cheekily, standing on her toes to plant a loving kiss on Mark’s cheek before closing the door.

Mark crossed over the hall with an amused smirk. Sure enough, as he opened the door to his cousin’s room he spotted a variety of toys and summer themed games strewn across the floor. His tired state prevented him from tidying anything away, far more focused on stripping down to his underwear and collapsing down on the bed, despite it being a touch smaller than his tall frame. It didn’t take long for him to drift off, his dreams driven by a woman with distinct blonde hair.

~•~•~•~•~•~

Mark was awoken by the distant shouting of his mom. Without delay, he snapped up and ran from the room and down the stairs, finding his mother pointing through the bay window in visible dismay. Quickly stepping over to her, Mark found the source of her horror. During the night, a heavy snowfall had surrounded the local landscape in close to three feet of snow, everything from the front garden to the road beyond had disappeared entirely under an ivory blanket. Even his mom’s sedan could only be identified by its blue roof poking up through the thick snow.

“The forecasts said we should have expected a light snowfall today, but this is well beyond that,” Lucy said, her voice trembling, “your brothers have already called to say they can’t even leave the motel they’re staying at. They’re stuck until the plows start rolling out.”

Mark felt his heart drop when he caught sight of his mom’s face. He knew she had been planning their Christmas getaway for months, to create a family memory that didn’t have the cloud of the divorce looming over it. He wrapped his mom in a tight hug, comforting her in a way only he had ever been able to.

“So there’s gonna be a delay on Christmas, it wasn’t your fault,” Mark soothed, feeling his mom’s long hair tickling his face. “Why dwell on it?”

“The whole point of this was to stop us having to delay Christmas. If I hadn’t decided to bring us all out here so close to the big day we might have actually been together as a family on Christmas for once,” Lucy’s delicate voice was muffled as she spoke against Mark’s chest, but the tremor was unmistakable.

“I think you’ll find that Anthony and James being unable to keep themselves away from their girlfriends for more than five minutes played a part in them not arriving on time,” Mark felt his mother shake with laughter. He pulled her away by the shoulders and was glad to see her typically dazzling smile again. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get changed? There are presents here begging to be torn open and I wait for no-one.”

Lucy straightened up and nodded. “I think I’ll do just that. But I have something in the box beside the the dining room table that has something I want you to wear. And, honey, I adore the enthusiasm,” seeing her son’s confused expression, Lucy inclined her head towards his groin.

Mark turned his gaze downwards and yelped, finally noticing the prominent erection bulging against his boxer shorts. He clasped his hands over his crotch and turned a heavy shade of red. “Mom, I… I didn’t realise- “

“It’s okay, honey,” she smiled, brushing her hand along Mark’s cheek, “a woman loves to know she’s still got it. I’ll be down in half an hour, okay?”

The moment he watched her disappear up the stairs Mark pinched himself, hoping that such an embarrassing moment was all part of some elaborate nightmare, but the sharp pain told him otherwise. He could only hope that he could forget about it over the course of the day. Mark entered the modest kitchen and found the box, fondly cursing his mom and her mischievous sense of humour when he flipped the flaps open. He reached down and pulled out a Escort Demetevler baggy Santa outfit, complete with a fake fluffy beard and a cheap imitation of a leather belt, sporting a plastic buckle with gold paint already in the process of flaking off.

Though he had his misgivings, he knew it was down to him alone to cheer up his mom. He hastily tugged on the outfit, already regretting it as he felt the rough fabric brush against his skin. The moment he yanked the beard into place he could feel his cheeks begin to itch, but he powered through it and returned to the main living room and sat in a small recliner chair just off to the side of the stack of presents.

Unsurprisingly, the promised half hour ended up turning into over an hour of waiting before Mark heard the sound of the stairs creaking. He stood just beside the door, mustering up the jolliest demeanour he possibly could, ready to do whatever it took to ensure that his mother didn’t feel as if the entire festive getaway had been a total failure.

Once he heard her just on the verge of entering, Mark leapt out to greet her, forcing out a booming laugh that rumbled deep in his throat. “Ho-Ho… wow!”

Mark looked at his mom in complete awe. She had chosen a festive outfit far more racier than anything he had expected, especially given that it was meant to be a family get together. A dress supposedly inspired by Mrs Claus adorned her body, a cherry red affair with a thin buckled belt that hugged her narrow waist tightly. White fur framed her cleavage, running along the centre until it reached the hem of the short skirt that just reached the centre of her thighs. Her defined legs were covered by matching stripey green and white stockings, drawing Mark’s eyes down to the sparkly emerald heels she had chosen. Lucy’s blonde hair had been given a wavy texture, flaring out with a small red sequined bow to top off the look.

Lucy giggled at the gobsmacked look on her son’s face, giving him a small curtsy. “By the look on your face I’ll assume that you like what you see, Mr Claus?”

Mark nodded, tugging his fake beard until it rested beneath his chin. “Definitely. I knew you looked good, but… just wow. You must spend all your free time at the gym.”

“And you don’t look too bad for a man who just slid down the chimney,” Lucy rushed over to her son and brought him into a loving hug, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. “I had something else prepared, but given that it’s just going to be the two of us I decided to feel a little more… glamorous. I’m just glad you think I still have it. Now hurry up, Mr Claus, there are presents to open.”

Mark stood still briefly, taken off guard by the kiss his mom had given him, but a quick shake of his head brought him back down to Earth. He chuckled as his mom knelt down bedside the tower of gifts, eagerly holding out one to Mark, just as she had done every Christmas for as far as he could remember, but it was the first time his attention had been on his mom entirely. He quickly tore the festive themed wrapping and let it float to the ground, then repeated the process with every package that followed until his pile had dwindled entirely.

Mark crouched down and wrapped his arms around his mother, deliberately keeping his lower body away to prevent her from detecting his hardness. “Thanks, mom. Even after we’ve all left home, you still know exactly what we want.”

“You bet I do,” Lucy giggled, resting her head in the crook of her son’s shoulder, “it’s all worth it to see the glee on your face. Now, help me up. I have to get everything prepped before the turkey can go in the oven.”

Mark held her soft hands in his and brought her back up to her feet, holding his hands out in a placating manner before she headed off to the kitchen. “Wait right here. I have to go get your present first.”

Lucy held her hand over her mouth and laughed as she watched her son amble out of the room, struggling to keep the cotton padding within the Santa costume from falling apart with every step he took in the heavy black boots. When he returned, she held her hands out, grasping the box shaped present. “Mark, you didn’t have to get me anything, I did this all for you and your brothers.”

Mark shrugged lightly as his mother sat down on the couch and eagerly peeled away the paper. “I thought it would be nice to give you something I knew you had your eyes on.”

“Oh, Mark,” Lucy whispered as her eyes landed on the box below. She lifted the lid away to gaze down at a pair of shiny, open-toed black Louboutin heels, complete with the striking red soles. “My god, you really shouldn’t have, they must have cost you a fortune.”

“I figured you were worth it,” Mark smiled, positively fixated by the sheer look of joy on his mother’s face, “I’ve been making good money with my part-time job. Once I found out how much I had left over after covering all the necessities, I thought of you, it was a no-brainer. So, are you going to just keep on staring at them, or are you going to put them on?”

Lucy obeyed without hesitation, slipping her feet free from her emerald heels and sliding them into her newest — and now most expensive — pair. She stood up and posed for Mark, turning to show her delicious profile, looking over her shoulder at her smitten son. “So? What do you think?”

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