‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

 'Twas the night before Christmas, as they lay in their bed,

While visions of ecstasy danced in each head.

The air grew quite heavy, the moonlight turned gold,

As a story of magic began to unfold.

A shimmer of spirit, a spark in the dark,

A mystical flame and a wandering spark—

Their souls took to flight in a shimmering blur,

As he became her, and she became him.

The morning sun rose over frost-covered glass,

As they realized the change that had come to pass.

The children were shouting, the grandparents near,

They had to act fast to keep secrets quite clear.

He woke with a gasp, feeling light, feeling small,

With a softness that wasn’t there lately at all.

She woke with a weight in her chest and her frame,

Calling out to her husband, but using his name.

He retreated upstairs for a shower alone,

To explore the new body he now called his own.

The hot water fell over shoulders so slight,

As he marveled at curves in the pale morning light.

He lathered her breasts, feeling heavy and sweet,

From the crown of her head to the soles of her feet.

He traced the soft dip of her waist and her hip,

With a trembling hand and a bit of a slip.

To be on the inside of beauty so rare,

With the scent of her shampoo still thick in the hair,

He explored every contour, each secret and line,

Thinking, "Heavenly Father, this body is mine."

Downstairs by the tree, in a mountain of wrap,

They hid the strange truth of their holiday trap.

She opened a box—a sheer, midnight gown,

"Put it on!" cried the kids, with no hint of a frown.

So he (in her body) stepped into the lace,

While she (in his frame) watched with fire in her face.

Then he handed her a gift, a leather-bound vest,

Which she pulled o'er the muscles of his broad, hairy chest.

They modeled the presents, a sight to behold,

As the family cheered, "You both look so bold!"

The lace brushed his skin, such a delicate thrill,

While she flexed his shoulders with a masterful will.

The turkey was served with a bottle of red,

And the wine went straight to each swapped-over head.

He giggled and chirped in a silvery tone,

While she downed the bourbon, a king on the throne.

Tipsy and flushed by the warmth of the fire,

The alcohol fueled their burgeoning desire.

Under the table, a foot found a knee,

In a bold exploration of new chemistry.

Their eyes met in hunger, a flame in the dark,

Ignited by spirits and a magical spark.

The guests finally left and the house became still,

As they climbed up the stairs with a feverish will.

They locked the oak door and they shed every layer,

A man in a goddess, a woman his prayer.

He felt the new depth of her passion and grace,

As she held his broad frame in a frantic embrace.

The strength of his arms was now hers to command,

While he felt the world through her soft, dainty hand.

They learned in that hour, through the touch and the kiss,

A brand new dimension of holiday bliss.

They moved in a rhythm they’d never quite known,

Each secret desire now vividly shown.

In the heat of the moment, the swap was complete,

A holiday miracle, heavy and sweet.

He whispered her name with a breathy, high cry,

While she watched the moon from a husband’s dark eye.

For the greatest of gifts on this magical night,

Was seeing their love in a brand new, bold light.

"Happy Christmas to all!" they breathed in the dark,

As the fire of their spirits left one final spark