Yule: Benny	 

 *YULE: BENNY*
  *By GILDA LILY*
 
  *Rated NC-17 for m/m sex (the best kind!). Comments 
 may be sent to jeanniemarie@sprintmail.com.
 

 (c) December 5, 1997
 
 Sitting here
 Beside a fire
 That's crackling
 With cedar goodness,
 I marvel
 At my fortune.
 All good, since I met Ray.
 

 Here in our home
 We bask in scents
 Of evergreen and holly,
 Of pasta and oregano,
 Scents I've learned to love
 Since loving Ray.
 

 I snuggle down
 In a corner
 Of our couch,
 Wearing the sweater
 Ray loves so much.
 He loves me in it.
 He loves me *out* of it. 
 

 "Don't ever, *ever*
 Get rid of that sweater.
 I don't care
 If it unravels,
 I *like* the whiteness 
 Against your skin."
 

 He first saw me wear it
 In my father's cabin
 When he left his sickbed
 To save my life.
 

 I will never
 Let it go...
 Or him. 
 

 Snow falls softly
 Outside our window,
 My Northern blood
 Joyously singing.
 

 He sits close by
 In his favorite chair,
 Softly dozing,
 Safe and happy,
 With Dief at his feet.
 (I swear, that wolf
 Thinks *Ray's* his master).
 

 We're quite domestic
 A little family 
 All our own.
 

 One green eye
 Suddenly stares at me
 Across the room,
 A lazy tongue
 Running across
 Lush lips.
 

 I blush, not from
 The fire's heat
 But from the fire
 He kindles within me.
 

 Slowly, silkily,
 He slides over
 To sit beside me
 On the couch.
 His tongue is claiming
 My willing mouth. 
 Goddess, thank You!
 

 Your blessings
 Rain down upon me
 Like a snow's soft fall.
 He's pushing deeper 
 And I am opening
 Myself to take him in,
 An old dance for us,
 But one that's never
 Boring.
 

 His hands slide up
 Beneath my sweater,
 My ribs trembling
 As his fingers
 Lightly stroke.
 Ah, my nipples
 Flower for him
 As I am lowered
 To the cushions.
 

 The smell of evergreen
 From our tree,
 Draped in precious
 Silver and gold
 Fills my senses
 As it mingles
 With Ray's fresh scent...
 Ah, perfection.
 
 In this time of gifts
 I have the most
 Perfect one
 Wrapped around me.
 He pulls my bow
 And I open
 Just for him.
 

 Then he is deep
 Within me, hot and hard
 While I open wider
 And we groan
 In fevered passion,
 Our souls as one.
 

 Blessed Yule.
 

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