caminante haciendo camino
christmas sex
2003-12-30 | 5:18 p.m.

I realize that we are closer to New Years than we are to Christmas, but I had a lingering thought about this Christmas.

It was, for the most part, a good holiday. The family was together. (Notwithstanding those not currently speaking to me.) It was Rianna’s first Christmas and she thoroughly enjoyed all the boxes and wrapping paper. I’m sure in time she’ll get a kick out of the gifts, too. Now that I’m nearly two years out of school and gainfully employed in my chosen profession, I was able to spoil my family and friends with an egregious number gifts – something I longed to do while in school and living off of student loans. The cinnamon chocolate chip cookies I baked were a hit. The wine was good and plentiful. And I got some really great gifts.

There was, however, something missing this Christmas. No Christmas sex. No, it’s not just the absence of coitus that left a lingering cloud over my holiday. What I really missed this year was sharing the holiday with someone I love. Going home after a boisterous family Christmas Eve celebration to a quiet apartment with a small tree sparkling in the corner. A little inebriated from the wine and other assorted spirits. Mixing the laughter with kisses and caresses as we settle down in front of the fire place. Discovering that whatever it is that makes Christmas magical tinged our lovemaking that night with a slightly different hue.

Yes, I missed the Christmas sex. Santa, if you're reading, this will be at the top of my list for next Christmas.


Listening To:

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