I often wonder how Carissa spends her holidays. Well, “often” is overstating the matter. Sometimes. That’s more accurate. And usually around a holiday, of course.
Anytime a holiday approaches, I think about Carissa. I think about her for two reasons. One: I want to know when I will see her again. And two: I wonder how she spends the holiday.
You see, I always make time for Carissa around the holidays. Either the day before or the day after. And it leaves me wondering, What does she do on that day?
Take Christmas, for example. What is Carissa doing while I am waking to my kids jumping on the bed and my wife groggily complaining, “Christmas doesn’t start till 8 a.m.”? And after the presents are opened and the living room is awash in wrapping paper and my wife has proclaimed, “Daddy’s making pancakes for breakfast!” Who is Carissa having breakfast with?
I spend Christmas day with my family. My wife Julia and I indulge the children from dawn till dusk. Then we drive over to my mother’s house or to Julia’s parents’ place for Christmas dinner and more presents.
It’s always well after midnight before we get back to our home. The children are usually asleep five minutes into the drive, if not before we’ve left their grandparents’ house. Even Julia falls asleep on the way. One hot toddy too many is always to blame.
But me, I’m always wide awake, already looking forward to the next day. The day after Christmas is when I see Carissa. No wife, kids, parents, brothers, sisters, uncles, cousins. No one. The kids play with their new toys. My wife cleans up the house. And I go out.
Julia thinks it’s a tradition my buddies and I have. And it was; it used to be. The boys and I would meet up around noon on the 26th to drink and watch college football and get the hell away from our kids. Thanks to my buddies, I’ve avoided trips to amusement parks with my kids and their fifteen cousins, reunion planning with my siblings, and lengthy weeklong family visits.
Our treasured day was lost when Larry got engaged to JoAnne, and she took him home for the holidays, and he couldn’t get away. Our streak had ended! At least for them.
Luckily for me, I’d met Carissa three months before, in time to replace football with my buddies. And Julia is none the wiser.
Everybody wins, really. Because I always save the best gift for Carissa. I was hooked the first time she whispered, “Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me.” I did. And she was very appreciative. The next year it was a light blue convertible. A weekend trip on a yacht had to do for year three because I couldn’t bear to give her an actual yacht if I couldn’t have one myself. And here we are at year four.
I am proud to say that this was Carissa’s best Christmas ever. Santa was very good to my baby. While she was away on business, he redecorated her condo from stem to stern, with a princess cut diamond in a platinum setting as the pièce de resistance.
The condo is no big deal; just a little real estate transaction that my wife knows nothing about. It’s our own little love nest, Carissa’s and mine. Though she took to calling it hers. She didn’t let me keep a copy of the key. And she insists I call before coming over. Can you believe that shit? It’s almost funny.
It’s a nice place though. Right downtown, one of those condominiums that keep cropping up in the least expected places. This one is nestled between two old warehouses that have been converted into small business offices and whatnot. I swear this building is in what used to be an alley. It’s about that wide anyway.
Carissa’s unit is small. The whole place is long and narrow, so the rooms have odd long shapes that were a decorating challenge according to Ariana. She did the redecorating for me, at an ample fee I might add. Anyway, it’s almost on the top floor, so the view is over the warehouses. If you look out and away, you pass right over those rooftops, and there is a nice view of the north downtown. It’s very nice.
I could have done better for Carissa, but why bother. I hardly ever go to the place. And she’s happy enough there.
Anyway, all in all, it’s been a pricey ride, but worth every dime. Four years already. I can’t believe it! Four years of cutting short torturous weekend camping trips and family vacations to the Grand Canyon to return to the refuge of Carissa’s ample bosom and broad hips, where I can breathe in her scent, and knead her breasts, and sink my flesh into hers over and over and over again.
“Ah, Carissa.”