#galemas

DAY 1,

mistletoe

DAY 2,

snow

DAY 3,

decorating

DAY 4,

ice skates

DAY 5,

warm

DAY 6,

cold

DAY 7,

bells

DAY 8,

christmas tree

DAY 9,

wrapping

DAY 10,

meal

DAY 11,

christmas eve

DAY 12,

christmas day

How he always laughed at the same parts, chiming in boisterously to recollect just how much cheese they had offerred the old chosen of Mystra, it made Merelind's cheeks ache with her polite if fake smile.

"The night is young, Gale, but I am almost three centuries old. Or have your forgotten?" She fired back under her breath before offering a demure, "Excuse me, Mama," to her mother in law. Then she hastily left the sitting room for the table of drinks yet one room over.

Quiet. Finally. Merelind grabbed a bottle roughly from the bucket of ice and settled herself in a chair at the set dining table.

Everything was glittering and shinning, a veritable feasting table of golds and greens and reds for the Yuletide season. "Hells, fuck," she cursed to the empty room, easing her laces of her bodice where her dress dug into her breasts. The laughter from the other room annoyed her, Gale's guffaw the loudest among the chittering.

She rolled her eyes. And then she drank deeply. In her home, in her arms, he was smooth and sensual, daring and bold and just a little controlling. Merelind loved it. But then, the second they were under the inestimable Morena Dekarios' roof? She could be naked and dancing for him to no effect of drawing his attention.

She huffed, blowing her bangs from her face. Tonight, she wanted that to change. That man thought with his cock just as much as with his brilliant brain, and he was her husband… Not this dolt who laughed on time with his mother's repetitive jokes. Morena was nice enough, kind and supportive, if a little bit… or a lot a bit… overbearing of her son.

Another drink right from the bottle neck of her champagne and she smirked. The way to his heart was one path. Straight and hard and thick.

The voices from the room over grew louder, speaking of the dinner that was about to take place. Morena praising again Gale's Hondur sauce, obviously a thousand times better than Hondur himself…

Enough. Merelind slid under the table, her whole body fitting nicely under its wide and covered top, white linen draping around the whole deal.

Now she was the predator, and her meal was about to sit at his mother's right hand.

Just in time, she pulled the chair back into place. Under the white linen of the table, she could see polished shoes and heels approaching. A polite little, "Here, Mother," and Gale's shined loafers drew to a stop beside the head of the table. The chair was pulled out, Morena's voluminous black skirts were seated with aplomb and properly first.

Then… just in front of where she crouched on the carpet, ready to spring, Gale settled just beside his mother. The seat beside him empty of course. It was supposed to hold a hungry Bhaalspawn and hero of the Gate, but the lesser influential Mrs. Dekarios was busy now.

Her own appetites and urges needed attention. Their voices were barely audible above the table, muffled by the cloth and drowned in the chatter of Morena's other friends and family.

She could make out her name… and Gale's reply to his mother. "Oh, I'm sure Merelind is merely out for a breath of air. Given her own nature, respite from such events does her good."

"I'll show you what does me better," she laughed to herself, rasped under her breath as she waited a moment. Then she pressed a hand to the inside of his knee.

The droning of his voice broke for a moment, only to have his mother's pick up and continue whatever boring topic was of his mother's design.

Merelind didn't hesitate, using her hand to push his legs apart a little, raking her nails over his pants. A move she'd done to claim her intent on his cock a thousand times.

His thighs tensed under her touch, a tan hand sliding from his knee to seek her face. Those magic fingers brushed their touch over her cheek, cupping her jaw and thumbing down on her bottoms lip.

Oh… yes. He did want to play. The good little boy act was cracking. The warmth of her gentle and dominant husband was seeping through.

All according to plan.

A little kiss to his palm, and she eased herself forward. Her skirts were crushed as she knelt under the table, but the sight of his cock straining in the dark purple fabric of his trousers was more than worth it.

"Haven't even touched you, and I can smell you leaking," she taunted. Her ears twitched, the voices at the table were surely too loud for him to hear. But that was adding to the thrill. She could run her dirty mouth an arms reach away from his mother and go unheard.

Perfect.

She pushed the fabric of the table cloth up, fingers finding and unlatching the buttons of his trousers. Just a little opening for the fabric of his briefs to peer through.

Delicious.

She leaned in to kiss his cock over that warm cloth, a hint of wet already there from the poor wizard.

This close to the table's edge, her pointy ears could glean more of the conversation, her name included.

"Are you not worried for your wife, Gale? Seems a terrible time to vanish into thin air, right at the commencement of dinner…" Morena's warbling voice almost put out Merelind's lust.

But not quite. She pursed her lips and sucked on his cock head through the fabric, tasting more fully his precum.

Much to Gale's delight and torture. "Hah, umm… well you know, her tastes do run more demanding… eclectic, one might say…" he did his best to keep a shiver out of his tone as her hands reached to free the object of her eclectic hunger.

"I suppose," Morena commented with a dry suck of her teeth. "Bhaalspawn, even former ones, must have urges yet."

"Yessomethinglikethat…" Gale huffed in one strident breath, warmth and wetness sucking around his sex at last. His hand flew to his chin, head turning as if he were looking for her, getting lost in the conversation at the table around him.

And by Elminster's frizzy beard, was he thankful that the company his mother kept was chatty and loud.

The hand at his mouth fisted over his parted lips, muffling his breaths as his wife's perfect mouth wrapped around his cock and sucked. He could feel her laughter as his mother called his name once more.

"Gale? Bread pudding, my heart? You know I make it just for you."

Gale huffed a laugh, steadying his hands to reach for the tray offered his direction. "Yes, perfect. Here's hoping there are leftovers if I have any suck…" he winced as his wife scored her nails down his inner thigh, taking him to the back of her throat and swallowing. "I-I-I mean… luck. Any luck," he let out a laugh, but to convince him or his mother that he was having politely good time, he wasn't sure.

Gale cleared his throat even as he shifted forward in his seat. He could feel his wife's dexterous and potentially sinful digits sliding under him, stroking that sweet span behind his balls. It made him fist his hand on the table, his eyes closing if only to keep his mouth from opening in a whine.

She was merciless when she was bored. Gale cursed himself, he should have known better than to let his mother prattle on and on about his childhood prowess.

Then that same maternal tone called his name again. "Gale, sweet Mage, is the turkey not sitting well with you? Why, you've hardly touched your plate."

Suddenly his cock was shoved deep in that throat, and Gale felt tears in his eyes from the need to move.

He was trapped deliciously at the mercy of his wife. Bhaalspawn as she was, she was certainly murdeing him in public. He exhaled softly and schooled his face into that controlled smile. It took every ounce of his concentration to ignore the sliding of her digit towards his asshole as he leaned back in the chair. "Oh no matter, Mother. You know I think I filled up too much on your delicious appetizers. You know… it would… finger… Imeanfigure… that your cooking was too delicious to resist.. hah…"

Gale groaned, hiding the noise in his wine glass, sucking loudly on the drink to hide the noises he was starting to hear right in his crotch under the table.

Merelind grinned, swallowing around him, feasting on his sex better than Morena's horribly over seasoned cooking. Gods, and that turkey, drier than a drained carcass, she wouldn't wish it on her foes. No, this was far, far better. Every twitch of his cock against her tongue, every drip of precome only made her hungrier. She bobbed faster, mouth and tongue devouring him. Her sucks were loud, easily covered by the din of conversation.

He was close. So close, she knew the signs of his pleasure and release better than her own. She smiled around his flushed and leaking girth when something brushed her skirt.

Merelind's mismatched eyes opened when she recognized even that lone huff of disapproval.

"Mrs. Dekarios. Was there not enough sausage on the table for your liking?"

Tara.

'Shit.'

Merelind didn't take the cock from her mouth as she turned slightly to look at their tressym. Poor Tara had accidentally endured enough of their marital festivities in the first months of their marriage.

"As usual," Tara clipped in reply, somehow arching a feline eyebrow, "I'll leave you two to your antics, but given the need for discretion, I expect extra Beholder jerky in my gift this Yuletide." Her tail swished, and Merelind managed a nod before returning to swallowing her husband whole.

The voice grew louder as the food was shared, the drinks flowed, and people imbibed greater. But Merelind only wanted to taste one delicacy on her tongue. And by the way his cock stiffened and jerked as she slurped and moved her head faster, she was about to.

Those magic fingers so good at casting spells and working the Weave came into her hair, pulling her into him with shaky desperation.

She could feel it, the way his hips wriggled on the seat as if it took every bit of his Archmage strength to keep from thrusting into her lips. He was there… right on the edge… when she heard the telltale chink of silverware on a crystal glass. The room quieted, his hand gripped into her hair hard and painful… but Merelind didn't stop.

A laugh in her throat and she took him all the way deep into the tight recess of her throat.

The noise that came from Gale in the quiet hush of the dining room could have made her come undone herself, but her own body was too busy fighting off laughter herself.

"Gale," his mother said with marked disapproval. And Gale winced despite the pleasure that warmed and loosened his muscles, even his tongue.

"Yes, Mother?" He fought not to slur his words. "I fear I am… a little out of sorts. Even still shall I give the toast? Or would you care to… mother, as matron of the mouth I MEAN HOUSE!"

Morena gave a polite smile, her gaze exacting. "Why don't you stay seated… Gale."

It wasn't a suggestion. And it was one Gale was all too happy to take regardless, even as his wife licked up the last spurts of his spend.

Truth be told, his brain made neither head nor tail of his mother's words. The toast came and went, and before he knew it, his cock was soft and still inside Merelind's warm mouth, and his glass of champagne was down his throat. It helped warm what would have been embarrassment at being dressed down by his mother, the inestimable Morena.

But, Gale smiled, now it was his wife's job to do the… dressing down. It made him laugh, his hand pawing gently in her soft waves of hair until she released her mouth, hands deftly putting his sex back in his pants

A little kiss to his clothed cock and she was gone.

All that remained was the telltale clinking of her necklaces and earrings, that soft swish of her silk skirts as she pulled herself out from the table under Invisibility.

Moments later, Merelind came up behind him, the toast long over and the conversation back in full swing. "Forgive me, Mother," she said, leaning around Gale to kiss his cheek. "Something didn't agree with me, I fear. Nothing a little swallow of fornification couldn't fix."

"Ahah! My love!" Gale instantly chimed in. "You mean forTIfication."

Merelind went quiet, kissing Gale on the cheek and then sitting at her place beside him.

She made no correction. Only a feline smirk on her lips as she quietly sat through dinner, her hand on Gale's thigh.

"You're awfully quiet this evening, my love," Gale whispered after a moment of him assuring his mother all was well.

Merelind turned and offered him an opened lipped kiss, letting him taste his spend on her tongue. "You know what they say," she murmured her reply, "it's rude to talk with one's mouth full."