Marie - Christmas gifts

Harry stopped short when he entered the bedroom. His Marie, his French romantic, who he saw little thanks to the distance between them, but never forgot. She knelt in just a red ribbon, her milky flesh waiting to be tainted, bitten, swollen, glazed. She fluttered her eyelashes and locked her hands behind her back.

"Mon amour."

"My Marie."

"I could not wait any longer." She confessed. "If I am not with you, my life has no meaning."

He knelt on the bed, took her jaw in his hands, kissed her ardently, pushing back her long mane of dark chestnut. She tilted her head to let him nibble on her ears, her breath already hastening.

"A greater gift I cannot imagine." Harry murmured.

When he withdrew, he startled at the tears in her eyes.

"Marie..." He brushed them away with his thumb.

"Désolée." She gave him a watery smile. "It is overwhelming at times, being unable to express it."

"If even you can't express it, what hope do the rest of us have?" Harry teased.

She nibbled on her pouty red lips. "I suppose one quote come to mind."

Harry collapsed on the bed and pulled her onto his chest, toying with the bow around her breasts. "I'm ready for my latest lesson in French literature."

She blushed prettily. "I am too predictable, non? A French novelist, oui. Gustave Flaubert. He wrote 'si tu pouvais lire dans mon coeur, tu verrais la place où je t’ai mise.'" She swallowed a lump in her throat and traced her fingers down his cheek. "If you could read my heart, you would see the place I have given you there." She kissed him. "Then, my Harry, we would have no need for quotes."

Harry kissed her softly, pouring his gratitude for her love into a kiss. Minutes later, she was panting, her lips swollen, her cheeks red. With a tug, her ribbon fell to the bed. She squirmed as his fingers explored her. From her graceful ankles to her creamy thighs, caressing the dewy lips between them and then circling her belly button. By the time he reached her red lips, she held fire in her eyes.

"I have thought of another quote-mmmf-" She gurgled when he slid his fingers into her mouth, though she sucked on them obediently.

"No need, love." Harry squeezed the tip of her pink nipple with his other hand. "There is a great English philosopher, Cormac McLaggen, who famously said 'I think birds do too much talking. Whenever I hear a chick yapping on, I just unzip and shove my dick in their mouth.'"

His fingers slid out with a pop. Marie licked up the string of saliva and wriggled herself on top of his jean-clad groin. "Such a difference in culture." She surmised. "A crass man, but, perhaps, a very wise one." She slid off the bed to kneel on the ground, locked her hands behind her back and gave him a challenging look. "Do you have a gift for me, my beloved?"

Harry pumped his cock and grinned.  He sat at the edge of the bed, spread his legs and wrapped her hair around his hands. "Give me a few minutes."

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Some Marie as requested. This begins a host of Christmas pictures to celebrate the season this month, so stay tuned for the festive naughtiness.

Thanks guys - Rob.