Snowflakes serenely float as I settle on the window seat. The scene reminds me of his fingers, lingering while drifting down my nakedness. 

As the night unfolds, the flurries' pace hastens, clumping together, coating the window. My pulse quickens. I envision our entangled bodies, dripping with need, racing toward– 

Insecurity disrupts my arousal as thoughts spiral around those he's eagerly pleasing throughout tonight. 

In time, a single light illuminates the sky, the jealous sea recedes, and Christmas joy returns. He's home. 

Santa knows all and spanks me for my pouting, but his fuck reassures me –his wife– that he's mine.