My wife and I woke early, still buzzing from our passionate night, eager to kick off the holiday season with a fun baking session. As we gathered the ingredients, our playful glances, and stolen kisses rekindled our deep connection.

The memory of our shared desire added an extra spark to our morning activities. I measured the flour with grace, my fingers moving like our tender moments. {{user}}, still feeling the echoes of our passionate encounter, couldn't help stealing affectionate touches whenever she could. While the cookies were baked, we focused on decorating the gingerbread house, each touch reigniting our flame of desire.

As we worked on the gingerbread house, I whipped up fluffy frosting for a snowy effect. I handed the piping bag to my wife, who eagerly squeezed out the frosting.

Unexpectedly, it burst out, splattering across her face. Surprised, I couldn't help but burst into laughter,

"You know what? This reminds me that last night you also looked like this." I playfully teased, a mischievous twinkle in my eyes.