"Oh, one of your memorable eye-watering farts, Biscuit. A lovely Christmas present," Marcus said, looking at his dog.

Although it was Christmas Day, Biscuit wasn't cutting his master slack. He wanted his walk, and he wanted it immediately, especially as it was light now.

Marcus took Biscuit up to the park. Everyone still needed a walk, whatever day of the week it was, and Marcus at least felt he'd ticked the human contact box by the time he left to return home.

Marcus and Biscuit held back as they reached the park gates. A woman was trying to encourage her dog to go into the park, but Cheesy was having none of it; at least, she wasn't until she saw Biscuit homing in on her bottom.

"At least buy her a drink first, Biscuit," Marcus told his dog.

Gina giggled at what Marcus had said to Biscuit, realising how good it felt to hear herself doing so.

"Cheesy's a tart. I must have known that when I named her," Gina replied.

Marcus decided 'Cheesy Biscuit' was a sign of Christmas spirit, so he and Gina introduced themselves. They did so by announcing their names rather than sniffing each other's bottoms, the dogs rolling their eyes at how backward humans were as they looked on.

"They fanny about these humans," Biscuit reminded Cheesy.

"We're dogs. They think we don't speak," Cheesy whispered to Biscuit.

Biscuit blushed at Cheesy's gentle words until he remembered dogs didn't blush either, and he wondered if he'd just blown it with the dairy queen of the park.

Marcus and Gina decided to chat, as their pets did their own socialising doggy style.

"I sometimes think we could learn a lot from dogs when it comes to courtship rituals," Marcus said, feeling he'd let loose with his platinum-level chat-up lines, as it was Christmas Day.

"The guys who want to stick their face up my arse usually just ask; they don't get their dogs involved," Gina said, as Cheesy and Biscuit smiled whilst holding back the laughter they knew was something else they didn't do, as well as blush.

"Let's do it, Fuck it!" Gina shouted, her plans made up by a sudden appetite she needed to satisfy.

Although he'd never been further east than Ipswich, the proprietor of "Phucket" was known for his Thai food. Opening on Christmas Day? Letting dogs in? It was all part of the eccentricities that made 'Thai Her Up Tim,' as he was known locally, a community hero.

As it was Christmas, Tim was at his charming best. He didn't even give out his usual warnings to the ladies that sneaking under the tablecloths to dish out a blowie was his privilege and not theirs. He was being a proper gentleman for once.

Marcus and Gina ate well, and Cheesy and Biscuit got their own nibbles. Instead of a contrived festive pun for a story, they actually got dog treats.

"We didn't see that coming," Cheesy and Biscuit signed to each other, having decided speech was a cliched trick, not a new one, and that they weren't old dogs anyway.

Once they were satisfied in 'Phucket,' food-wise, Gina decided it wasn't just her belly that needed filling on Christmas Day. She lifted her skirt and stuffed a menu down her knickers, meaning all that was left visible was the word 'Phucket' As soon as Gina and Marcus got to Gina's flat, Marcus did.

Marcus and Gina made romantic, sweet love, their words capturing the beauty of the moment.

"Let's bang like a shithouse door in a gale," Marcus suggested.

"Arse, fanny, gob, they're all yours," Gina replied romantically in a whisper.

Being a true gentleman, Marcus wanted Gina to know it wasn't all about him, and so he selflessly slotted his cock into all of the options mentioned and even reversed the order in case Gina wanted to have a less fruity knob in her gob than might otherwise have been the case.

Everything kicked off with some stick action, although a giggle stick took centre stage, not those of interest to the canine lovebirds who'd sloped off elsewhere. Gina gave Marcus a serious workout on his banger; her relish with it was definitely more anchovy paste than ketchup when served.

No time was wasted on pausing between courses, and Marcus was quickly doing his own dining. The oyster Marcus swallowed whole was as fresh as his behaviour, and there was more than enough juice for it to swim in. despite his focused efforts.

"Wham, bam, thank you, clam," Gina screamed, her orgasmic excitement causing a seafood mix-up.

It was an energetic session, and the play entered its final act with a furious first scene. Gina had a fine time welcoming Marcus and his flute into her orchestra pit, and sweet music was made, at least, in a thrash-metal sense of the term.

Marcus and Gina were climaxing together when they heard the sweet sound of 'Santa Claus is cumming to town' outside. It was actually Santa's ringtone on his phone, but he was just popping by to make sure Gina had been granted the wish she'd won in the ' Slottery Lottery.'

"Hey, big SC, Good to see you. Let's have a triple shot," Gina suggested, though the version of the hard stuff she wanted wasn't from a distillery or grain-based at all.

Santa left cliches behind and made entry via the main entrance rather than the chimney. Back door duty fell to Marcus as he did the catering, filling Gina's freshly kneaded bottom muffin with a thick Lincolnshire with creamed horseradish seasoning.

Gina felt the service was excellent and was more than happy to sort out a large tip to show her satisfaction. She handled the tip issue well.

Santa also had a lot of issues on his hands, but he didn't have time to fit everything in, so he had to flee.

Marcus and Gina's Christmas was similar to that of many others. There were bouts of endless moaning, cheeky moments, strange packages that leaked everywhere, and a finale of a well-stuffed bird.

Having spent the day engrossed in things dogs don't actually do, Cheesy and Biscuit just sniffed each other's bottom and made owl impressions.

"Twit twoo," Biscuit began.

Twit twoo to you too." Cheesy replied. He was right.

Happy Christmas.