Gloria snuck downstairs, tugging the ties of her robe tighter. The lights on the tree bathed the main room and kitchen in a warm, low light. The clock on the microwave said 2:52- maybe she’d beat Claire.
She opened the door to the den to see Claire perched on the arm of the couch. Gloria grinned, her eyes raking over the blonde, from the Santa hat on her head to the red lace demi bra, the black cheekies, thigh high red fishnets and black patent leather fuck me pumps.
“Ay, Mrs. Claus…” Gloria grinned.
“I’m here because I’m not sure if you’re naughty or nice.” Claire said coyly. “Can you think of some way to help me narrow it down?”
Gloria raised a suggestive eyebrow and shrugged out of her robe. She was wearing a sheer black teddy which left nothing to the imagination.
“There’s a point in the naughty column.” Claire purred. She spread her legs, “now let’s see you be nice.”
Gloria wrapped her arms around Claire and pushed her back onto the couch. Claire giggled, letting the other woman crawl over her, shoving her thigh hard against Claire’s center.
Claire cupped Gloria’s breasts, teasing her nipples with her thumbs. “Ay, Claire…”
Gloria started to move down Claire’s body and Claire whimpered. Gloria hooked her fingers in the waistband of Claire’s underwear. “Quiero cogerte.”
Claire panted. “Cojame… cojame… please…”
“I love when you dirty talk me en espanol.” Gloria purred, fingertips brushing the damp curls at her center.
Cam and Mitchell tiptoed down the stairs of the cabin, heading for the big spruce tree with an armload of presents “from Santa.” Once they had been interspersed with the rest of the presents, Mitchell looked up to see Cam grabbing a gingerbread cookie.
Mitchell sighed and Cam whispered. “What? If we don’t eat the cookies then it’s like Santa didn’t come.”
“Lily doesn’t even believe in Santa anymore.” Mitchell grumbled.
“It’s tradition, Mr. Grinch.” Cam smirked.
“Okay, can you finish your cookies so we can go back to bed?”
Cam paused mid-bite as the sound of a muffled moan came through from the attached den.
“Oh my god, was that Claire?” Cam gaped.
“Just what I wanted for Christmas: to hear my sister schtupping her husband at three in the morning. It’s a Christmas miracle.” Mitchell rolled his eyes.
“I think it’s nice that they still have fun together.”
“Ay, Claire…” Gloria moaned, “quiero cogerte!”
Cam turned to Mitchell, shocked. “Oh my god…”
“Oh… my… god.” Mitchell covered his mouth. “Geez. Oedipus, much?”
“You can’t say anything to her.” Cam said.
“What? Are you kidding? She’ll never be able to make fun of me again! This is a Christmas miracle!”
“You can’t. It will kill her.” Cam insisted. “Just… we’ll go back to bed and…”
“You live for drama like this.” Mitchell whined.
“When it’s on soap operas and not something that could destroy the marriages of four people that I love!”
“I hadn’t thought about that.” Mitchell mumbled.