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Lost At Christmas: Part 2 A vulnerable confrontation with an old crush. Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First time. Christmas What had started out with the potential for so much disappointment, my first Christmas away from home, was actually quite wonderful. The family embraced me and treated me as one of their own. Dinner was scrumptious, a Christmas ham, with the full complement of side dishes. After dinner we chatted, drank a little too much spiked eggnog, and told stories of the last few years. I sat close to Sheri when I could, beside her at the dinner table, and next to her on the couch while we had our eggnog. I tried to engage her in some quiet conversation of our own, but the setting was all wrong for that, and I eventually abandoned those attempts. It was nice enough just to be near her. Tommy's step-father Dave, insisted I call Santiago, even though I knew the price would be outrageous, and I did. I gave my family my Christmas wishes, and told them how much I missed them and was looking forward to seeing them in a couple of days. Everyone in the room took a minute to say hello and share season's greetings. I had to spend a few minutes trying to get my Mom to stop crying at the far end, before we finally were able to hang-up. The small ones had to go to bed relatively early, and so we all got to open one gift the night before, as was their tradition. I gave Tommy his gift, and his mother opened the family gift and everyone acted pleased. In turn, they had bought me a present which I opened. It was two books for the trip, and they had a card for me. Inside was $50. I was completely in shock. "Dear Steve, Your short visit was a wonderful Christmas gift to us all. Thanks so much for choosing to spend this Christmas with us. Here's some mad money for the trip home. We all love you. Dave, June, Robert, Sheri, John and Jean" I was deeply touched by the gesture. I went over and gave Tommy's Mom a big hug, thanking her for the card and books. The kids jumped up with presents of their own, and I got two new drawings for my dorm room, as well as some mystery invention from John, which was supposed to be a spy tool to stop people from breaking into my room. I thanked them profusely, and they were put to bed shortly after. Dave, Tommy and I discussed the logistics of my morning bus ride back to Charleston. It left at 7:30 am, but was only about 15 minutes away, so we figured on getting a 7:00am start. We relaxed around the fire, ruminating on the poor souls who had the job of driving that bus all day Christmas day. There was a guitar in the corner, Greg's. I was surprised he hadn't taken it with him. I went over and grabbed it, and finding it miserably out of tune, I tuned it up. "Play something Christmassy", Tommy's Mom asked, and so I played a couple of tunes. I'm a fair guitarist; I was studying guitar at the Eastman School of Music since it was convenient, and ROTC was picking up the tab, and had improved quite a bit from the days of our first band. I got rave reviews from my small audience, and took requests for a while, before we broke it up. The parents still had some work to do for the kids, and Tommy and I wanted to hit the hay early, in order to catch that 7:30 bus. More hugs and kisses all around, with a firm handshake for Dave, and I retired to my room to finish my packing. I got ready for bed, dressed in boxers and a t-shirt, laid out my clothes for the morning, and completed my packing. I had one last thing I wanted to do before hitting the sack, so I went back into the bathroom, and knocked on the opposite door into Sheri's room. I heard a muffled "Come in" or something to that effect, and opened the door to find Sheri sitting up in bed, brushing her long blonde hair. She was dressed in a nearly see-through pale green nightie that took my breath away. "Hi." I felt incredibly awkward, like I was 16 all over again. She looked up at me, giving me a quizzically upraised eyebrow. "I had a gift for you, but I felt kind of silly giving it to you out there. I hope you don't mind that I waited until now." I handed her a small leather pouch. She took it, laying her brush to the side, and opened it, pulling out a small cross. She stretched out the cord, and looked at me in surprise. "But this is your mountain cross! You always wear this!" She said, looking at me with a strange look I couldn't quite fathom. The cross was one I had found mountain climbing several years earlier. I had been in a small accident. I'd fallen into a glacier fed stream on a mountain trip, while collecting firewood in a storm. I'd almost frozen before I'd made it back to the cabin. Literally. I thought I was going to die. I was staggering the last 20 feet to the building, in a daze, when a friend returning from the outhouse ran into me, and dragged me inside to warm up. The next morning I found a small ivory cross on a rotted leather lanyard at almost the very place I had climbed out of the stream, and I had worn it for years since then. Sheri knew the story. I had told her the whole thing one evening when I had been giving her driving lessons. I don't know what had motivated me to give it to her, but I had had this urge, and I've always been a pretty impetuous person. "I just want you to have it." I explained. She patted the bed beside her for me to sit down then she handed me the cross to put around her neck and turned her back to me. I passed my hands over the head, letting the cross dangle in the valley between her breasts, and she reached back and pulled her hair up and out of the way, so I could latch the necklace on her. When I was done she turned to me, and fingering the cross she thanked me. "I got the strangest call today." She told me. "Strange how?" I asked. "Kathryn called me. We haven't talked probably in over a year, but she called me out of the blue, and we talked about nothing but you for over an hour." She said with a teasing smile. I could feel my face burning from the blush. We were real quiet for a bit. Then she spoke up softly, not looking at me at all, just looking down at her hands. "Do you remember the skating party where you asked me to skate, like 5 times?" "Do I ever! My hand was so sweaty I was embarrassed to hold yours, but didn't know how to dry it off, and I wasn't good enough a skater to make a real dance out of it." I laughed. "I thought you liked me, and were going to ask me out, but you never did. Why not?" She asked. The memory was embarrassing, and I thought about it a bit before confessing. "I had skated with Kathryn earlier in the evening, and she asked me who I liked. I told her I would answer by the end of the evening. Later, just when I was trying to get the nerve up to skate with you again, and ask you to sit by me on the Pensacola bus trip, Jack found me and told me that I had better ask Kathryn to skate. She was waiting for me to tell her something. Well, I did ask her to skate, and she reminded me of our previous conversation. I admitted that I really liked two people, you and her. Then she asked me if I minded if she 'monopolized' me for a while. I went along. You know the rest. One out-of-town bus trip; one back-row of the movie; and me completely screwing everything up." She listened without showing too much surprise. "But how come you never tried anything after that?" "God! How could I? You knew everything that had happened. Don't you remember the time I stopped by when Net was over here spending the night. Every time I passed you guys, you seemed to be laughing at me. And then when you passed me in the hall and whispered, "Oooh, I Love You," teasing me with what I'd said to Kathryn before completely blowing her off, I was just devastated. I hadn't screwed up just the one chance, but you as well." Sheri had the grace to blush from embarrassment at that. "I really didn't know much of what was going on. Kathryn just told me to go up to you and say that. I'm sorry." "Not half as sorry as I was." I told her. "You had to know how much I liked you. I was always trying to be around you and do things with you." "I didn't know how much of that was just being Tommy's sister, or what. I kept waiting for you to try something, anything, but you never did." She looked at me intensely almost with anguish. I was 16 all over again. I was still embarrassed over my ineptness around women. I had screwed things up with Kathryn. I had screwed up with Teri. And I had screwed up with Sheri. Since then I'd had more than my share of success with the young women I'd known, but all of a sudden, it was like I was a clumsy, scared virgin all over again. Sheri looked at me for a long while, then finally sighed and looked away, picking up her brush and going back to brushing her hair. "Some things will never change, I guess," she muttered, ignoring me. I started to get up, to go to my room, knowing this was neither the time, nor the place to try to start something with Sheri, but I just couldn't leave things as they were. I reached out and took the brush from her, which she relinquished slowly. I then took her by the shoulders and turned her away from me, so I could brush her hair. I brushed her hair in silence for a bit, before speaking. "For at least a year after leaving here, I would dream about you all the time. You were the girl of my fantasies. We wrote so well for a while, and I kept all your letters, reading them over and over again, looking for hidden meaning in the words, wondering if I'd ever get a chance to be with you. I still have those letters." I confessed. Several long seconds later Sheri reached down to the bottom drawer of her chest, next to the bed and opened it. She reached under her sweaters, and pulled out a pile of letters held together with a rubber-band. I recognized my writing. She turned to look at me, and her eyes glistened. I dropped the brush, leaned over and nervously kissed her, hoping beyond hope she wouldn't throw me out of her room with a ruckus. Instead she turned, and returned my kiss with a depth and passion I could only have prayed for. When we broke apart, we just looked at each other. Suddenly I couldn't help but giggle. "What?" She asked, almost crossly. "Do you remember how you thought you'd get pregnant from French kissing?" I recalled. She blushed again. "I can't believe you still remember that, you beast. How did you find that out anyway?" "Kathryn told me on the bus trip. I think she was trying to make you seem naive to me, sort of solidify her hold on me." I told her. "That Bitch! She always denied it, but I couldn't think of anyone else who knew." We laughed a bit, and gradually fell back into kissing each other. At the next break in our kissing, Sheri nailed me again. "Tommy said you did it with Angela. Was she your first?" "No. I never did do it with her. And Colleen was my first." I admitted. "Colleen? From yearbook?" "Yeah. But not until a year later. She went to Mosley with me, and we hooked up at a party. It was weird and nothing much happened of it. Three weeks later I was headed to Chile." I told her. She just shook her head at me. "Since it's time for true confessions, who was your first?" I asked teasing. "Rich? Mike?" "Oh God, no!" she laughed. "Then who?" She never answered, just turned a bright red. "Come on, fair's fair. I told you." I urged her relentlessly. She mumbled something I couldn't make out. "I can't hear you, who was it?" I teased again. She looked up, almost fiercely. "Nobody, all right?" I was stunned, and the ensuing silence seemed endless. "You're kidding me." I finally said, hardly believing. Her answer was so soft I almost missed it. "At one time I thought you'd be my first." This time when we kissed, I allowed my hands to wander, throwing caution to the wind. I cupped her perfect young breast in my hand, letting my thumb brush across her nipple, getting it hard. We were both gasping when we broke apart. "Steve?" "Yes?" "Go close your door, and turn off your light, then turn off the light in the bathroom," she said softly. I did, and she had turned down the light in her room. She was lying in the bed, the covers folded down neatly, waiting for me. She was still in her nightie. I stood beside the bed and made my commitment. I removed my shirt, and then my shorts, sporting a huge hard-on, which she stared at in wonder. I climbed into her bed completely naked. She had been laying sideways, leaning on her elbow, but as I entered the bed, she rolled onto her back, lying down, waiting for me. She was achingly beautiful in the dim light, and I was afraid I was going to come on the spot if she even touched me. I leaned over her and kissed her, but this time the kiss never stopped. I lost my soul in that kiss. I lost all track of time and presence. Our mouths stayed connected as we explored and played with our tongues, and my hands embarked on their exploration of the wonders of her body. My hands touched her all over, before finally settling in the warm crease between her legs. She had panties on, and as my fingers rubbed up and down her hidden folds, I found a small wet spot, maybe the size of a dime slowly spreading. Once I was aggressively rubbing her, sliding the material up and down, half-an inch into her by this time, the wetness enveloped the entire area. I slid my hand less than a foot up her body, and let my finger tips creep under the band of her panties. My hand slid down, the soft down of her hair like a magical lure, the gentle pressure of her panties against the back of my hand trapping me. Our kiss finally broke, and from an inch away we looked into each other's eyes as I slowly slid my middle finger between those forbidden lips, and into her. The aroma of her need assaulted me, and the quiet squish of her wetness against my finger was the ultimate aphrodisiac. I was engulfed with desire. I started to crawl over her, placing my knee between hers when she stopped me. "Wait." Then she raised her hips, and scrunched down, raised her knees, moments later passing me a small, but incredibly erotic piece of plain, white material. I was beyond reason, and I climbed between her legs. She spread them for me, seeming as eager as I. I grabbed my throbbing rod in hand, and by feel, rubbed the head up and down her moistness, adding pressure bit by bit, until I felt it settle in at the mouth of her pussy. She gave a small gasp, as the head slid in just a bit, not quite in her yet, but knowing that I was one small push from being inside. "Be gentle," she said, and I could see a hint of nervousness and fear in her eyes. I leaned over and kissed her softly, and while our lips touched, I pushed, sinking into her. At least for a bit. About halfway in I hit a barrier. I was confused at first. I pulled back and pushed again, a little harder, thinking I was sticking, and she grunted a little as if in pain. It finally sunk in. I had been with plenty of women, and several who had claimed to be virgins, but none with their cherry intact. I wasn't sure what to do. I probed again, and this time elicited a small 'ow'. What was I to do? I lay on top of her, my cock buried four inches deep in the girls of my dreams, and I was at a complete loss. Sheri shifted a bit under me, wrapped her legs around mine, and pulled me close. She whispered into my ear. "Take me." It was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard. Nervously I pulled back until I was just at the opening and I drove down hard, feeling just a pinch before my pelvis was grinding into hers. I was completely inside her. I got up on my elbows and looked down at her. I could see a single wet trail that glistened from the side of her eye to her ear. "Are you ok?" I asked her, holding myself still, deep inside of her. "Wonderful," she said softly, tilting her chin up slightly for a kiss. I accepted the offer, and kissed her gently, while I experimented with moving my cock within her incredibly tight sheath. I felt I was only moments from coming, but I couldn't resist moving my hips just a bit, exploring the feeling of being inside her. I leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I always wanted you. You knew it. I knew it. But I was afraid. I was afraid of the ribbing from your brother. Afraid of being exposed for knowing nothing about what to do with a girl. Afraid of ruining our friendship. Afraid of striking out, and you telling all the other girls, and my being the laughingstock. Afraid of so many stupid things. I was an idiot." "You weren't afraid of Kathryn," she answered softly. "She initiated it all. She pushed forward, asking to monopolize me, holding my hand. I probably never would have made the move. If I could change one thing, it would be that skating party. I should have saved that last moonlight skate for you, and asked you out. I should have told Kathryn that you were the one girl I was interested in. Who knows how things might have worked out? Plus, it wasn't as big a deal. If things didn't work out, oh well. But if I ruined things with you, it would have killed all my dreams." She was hot beneath me, her skin almost burning to my touch, I was finally moving inside of her, but I quickly had to stop, again on the verge of coming, and embarrassed at my short trigger. "Make love to me Steve," she said breathlessly. I gave a few more strokes and had to stop again. "Don't stop," she pleaded. "I'm sorry, I'm so excited I'm on the verge of coming now. If I move I won't be able to stop," I finally confessed. "Do it. Pump me, take me, come deep inside me," she answered. Those words were too much, and with a gasp I drove my cock in hard, and exploded inside her. I pulled back and slammed into her a dozen times or so, making the bed creak alarmingly as I emptied myself inside her virgin moistness. As my heart hammer away in my chest, and my breathing gasped, she gave me a small joyous laugh. "Wow, I guess you were close!" Then she gave a big hug before she pushed me off of her. She climbed over me, her hand pressed between her legs and scrambled into the bathroom, waddling inelegantly but still incredibly arousing to me. I heard her tinkle, and then return to the bed with a facecloth with which she wiped my semi-hard cock clean. Then she climbed into bed, her head on my shoulder and talked. She recounted almost ever time that we'd been together alone, all the adventures we'd had, the summer we'd learned to play tennis together, and what she'd thought might happen. We laughed a little at my ineptness and her caution as well. Then I felt her hand creep down between my legs. "Do you think we could try that again?" she asked me hesitantly. "I'm dying to, but I was afraid I might have hurt you." I laughed my foolish insecure laugh. "So hurt me," she teased, giving a tug on my cock. This time I held out a little better. I climbed between her legs again, and made love to her, still gently, still nervous. But before long I was feeling that familiar rhythm of need, and my strokes became longer and more insistent. I had to have her. I had to take her. I had to fill her deeply, completely. I sat up in the bed, discarding the covers, and raised her legs, pushing them back, and screwing her powerfully, shaking her body, crashing into her with a burning need. She was still wearing her nightie, but it had ridden up above her belly button, just a couple of inches below her breasts. I stopped my motion and whispered to her, "Rise up on your elbows." She looked at me oddly but did, raising her head a few inches off the pillow. I leaned over and lifted her nightie up above her breast, allowing me to see the objects of my desire and fantasies. "God, I've pictured those in my mind for four years, and yet never came close to imagining how perfect and beautiful they are." I said, more to myself than to her. I resumed my fucking, for that was what I was doing now, fucking her. Fucking her hard. She had her bottom lip captured between her teeth, and now she was holding her nightie in her hands, almost to her chin, allowing me an uninterrupted view of her oh-so-perfect tits. The visuals were all too much and pushed me over the edge once again. The beautiful face, the long hair arrayed across the pillow, the full breasts, bouncing a counter-beat to my pounding, her flat stomach, hollowed, and the light fur of her hair parted to allow my pole to penetrate her again and again. With a moan I came for her again, collapsing beside her, sated, and in complete serenity and joy. "I guess you really do like me," she laughed, cuddling up to my side. Then she was asking me about my afternoon meeting with Kathryn. "What did she tell you?" I asked, a little nervous. "No, you tell me what happened. I don't trust her," she insisted. I told her the whole story, including the ending. In full short-but-sweet detail. "I knew it!" She laughed. "She said you tried to come on to her, and made her grab you there, but she turned you down." "If that's how she wants to tell it that's fine by me. I owe her one; let her have it however she wants." I said "When you went to the movies, what really happened there?" she asked, with her one-track mind. I wasn't sure what her preoccupation was but I finally told her the whole scene, everything I'd done, every liberty I'd taken. At the end I waited in judgment. "She's such a liar. She said you tried to reach inside her pants but she stopped you." "Hardly, I could smell her on my fingers for day afterwards." I laughed. Sheri was lost in thought pressed up against me. My hands were idling rubbing her back, the material of her nightie soft and silky against my fingertips. "I guess there's only one thing she's done with you that we haven't done," Sheri started, and then she slid under the covers and a moment later I felt the warm wetness of her mouth enveloping me. I could see the covers moving as she used her mouth to pleasure me, taking only a few moments to make me hard, and then sucking me like there was no tomorrow. Which, in a way I guess there wasn't. I wanted to see her, so I pulled the covers back and looked down at her. She continued a few more strokes, then shifted and faced me a little more, finally lifting her eyes to watch me, watching her, suck my cock. A few more deep strokes and she pulled off with a smile. "I can see that's one thing you like," she said with a grin. "Like is an understatement." I laughed. She gave me a couple more sucks, and then she straddled me, and rose up to take me inside of her again. I wanted her so bad I could almost scream. She got me positioned right, and then slowly lowered herself the full length of my staff with one long, smooth stroke. Then, settled on my hips, my turgid meat buried in her achingly tight recess, she lifted the bottom of her nightie and pulled it up and over her head. I'd been to several strip shows before that, but never in my life had I seen anything so beautiful or so erotic. I could feel my pulse in my cock, throbbing inside her. She opened her eyes wide, and looked down between her legs. "Wow, I could feel that. At least one part of you really likes to see the girls," she laughed, holding her breasts cupped in her hands, and jiggling them for me. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." I told her. "Right, and now I guess you're going to tell me you love me, just like Kathryn." She said it with a hint of bitterness I didn't understand. "The difference is back then it was the hormones of a 16 year old talking. You on the other hand, I've loved for three years. And you know it." I said, and only as I spoke the words did I realize to my very soul, just how true it was. Sheri didn't answer. She leaned forward and rocked back and forth on my hard cock, enjoying the feeling of controlling the penetration, the pace, the timing. She paced herself to my breathing and excitement. When I started to get really excited she'd slow down and hold me, letting me ease back from the edge. When I was strong and ready, she'd ride me hard. She let my hands explore her as she did the work, and I touched her everywhere I could reach, just wallowing in the sensations. I pulled her down within reach, and tasted her nipples, playing with those perfect globes. The feel of her breasts, that impossible soft pale skin under my lips, making way to the crinkled, tougher skin, peaking to a little nub seemingly designed for me to tease and taste. Finally, after what seemed an eternity of sensual, erotic play, she laid down on me, her breasts pressed against my chest, her mouth on my neck, while she slowly rocked her hips, fucking herself gently on my rod. "Come for me Steve," she said, almost as a command. I reached down and took her full, soft ass cheeks in my hands, grasping them tight, and I held her up a bit off of me, so I could us my hips to drive in and out of her channel more completely. I was able to get a good long stroke established, and I could feel the cool air brushing against my wet shaft each time I pulled outward. We had made love for what seemed ages before she issued that first command for me to come. Now she issued another one. "Tell me again." I couldn't hold back any longer, and didn't want to. I was fucking the prettiest girl I'd ever known; The first girl that I had really badly wanted; The sweet little virgin that I had fantasized about for so long; Whose pretty face had been the image I'd been picturing as I filled enough old gym socks with cum to fill a stadium. "I love you, Sheri. I've loved you as long as I've known you." And with that I pulled her down hard on my cock, coming inside my dream girl again, and absorbing the feeling, knowing I was leaving within hours, not knowing when I'd see her again. "I love you, Steve," she said, I could feel her tears rolling down the side of my face. I looked up to see the sky lightening with the coming dawn, and thought to myself, "That's another one you've got up on Kathryn." I disentangled myself from her limbs and kissed her. "I have to go. Tommy's going to be looking for me any minute." Somehow we had spent the entire night reminiscing, sharing and making love. It was so difficult, but I tore myself from her arms, tucked her in bed, and kissed her goodnight. "Get a couple of hours of sleep; I'll be able to sleep on the bus." I told her. She was still wearing the cross I'd given her. She held it now. "Thanks for the Christmas present." She said with a small sad smile. I kissed her again, and retreated to the bathroom for a quick shower and shave. Back in my room, I dressed, and found a present waiting for me on my suitcase. A 8 by 10 picture of Sheri, as beautiful as I'd ever seen her, with a small inscription on the back. "Merry Christmas. Don't forget about me. Love, Sheri" I had just finished putting it away when Tommy knocked on my door, dragging me out to breakfast, and then off to the bus. The rest of that trip was uneventful; I made it home OK, picked up some presents in Panama, saw some old friends, and made it back to college in one piece. But I'll always recall that first Christmas away from home, and the greatest Christmas present I ever received. Not my first erector set, or the 114 piece Lincoln Log tube. Not my first really Cool bicycle, a purple spider bike with banana seat, big handle bars and a three speed shifter on the bar. Not my first electric guitar, a Fender, and amp, which I think my parents had some second thoughts about. No, Sheri's was the nicest gift I ever received, and probably ever will receive, for Christmas. "Thanks" just doesn't seem to say enough. Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales, in 2 parts, for Literotica

Lost At Christmas: Part 2 A vulnerable confrontation with an old crush. Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First time. Christmas What had started out with the potential for so much disappointment, my first Christmas away from home, was actually quite wonderful. The family embraced me and treated me as one of their own. Dinner was scrumptious, a Christmas ham, with the full complement of side dishes. After dinner we chatted, drank a little too much spiked eggnog, and told stories of the last few years. I sat close to Sheri when I could, beside her at the dinner table, and next to her on the couch while we had our eggnog. I tried to engage her in some quiet conversation of our own, but the setting was all wrong for that, and I eventually abandoned those attempts. It was nice enough just to be near her. Tommy's step-father Dave, insisted I call Santiago, even though I knew the price would be outrageous, and I did. I gave my family my Christmas wishes, and told them how much I missed them and was looking forward to seeing them in a couple of days. Everyone in the room took a minute to say hello and share season's greetings. I had to spend a few minutes trying to get my Mom to stop crying at the far end, before we finally were able to hang-up. The small ones had to go to bed relatively early, and so we all got to open one gift the night before, as was their tradition. I gave Tommy his gift, and his mother opened the family gift and everyone acted pleased. In turn, they had bought me a present which I opened. It was two books for the trip, and they had a card for me. Inside was $50. I was completely in shock. "Dear Steve, Your short visit was a wonderful Christmas gift to us all. Thanks so much for choosing to spend this Christmas with us. Here's some mad money for the trip home. We all love you. Dave, June, Robert, Sheri, John and Jean" I was deeply touched by the gesture. I went over and gave Tommy's Mom a big hug, thanking her for the card and books. The kids jumped up with presents of their own, and I got two new drawings for my dorm room, as well as some mystery invention from John, which was supposed to be a spy tool to stop people from breaking into my room. I thanked them profusely, and they were put to bed shortly after. Dave, Tommy and I discussed the logistics of my morning bus ride back to Charleston. It left at 7:30 am, but was only about 15 minutes away, so we figured on getting a 7:00am start. We relaxed around the fire, ruminating on the poor souls who had the job of driving that bus all day Christmas day. There was a guitar in the corner, Greg's. I was surprised he hadn't taken it with him. I went over and grabbed it, and finding it miserably out of tune, I tuned it up. "Play something Christmassy", Tommy's Mom asked, and so I played a couple of tunes. I'm a fair guitarist; I was studying guitar at the Eastman School of Music since it was convenient, and ROTC was picking up the tab, and had improved quite a bit from the days of our first band. I got rave reviews from my small audience, and took requests for a while, before we broke it up. The parents still had some work to do for the kids, and Tommy and I wanted to hit the hay early, in order to catch that 7:30 bus. More hugs and kisses all around, with a firm handshake for Dave, and I retired to my room to finish my packing. I got ready for bed, dressed in boxers and a t-shirt, laid out my clothes for the morning, and completed my packing. I had one last thing I wanted to do before hitting the sack, so I went back into the bathroom, and knocked on the opposite door into Sheri's room. I heard a muffled "Come in" or something to that effect, and opened the door to find Sheri sitting up in bed, brushing her long blonde hair. She was dressed in a nearly see-through pale green nightie that took my breath away. "Hi." I felt incredibly awkward, like I was 16 all over again. She looked up at me, giving me a quizzically upraised eyebrow. "I had a gift for you, but I felt kind of silly giving it to you out there. I hope you don't mind that I waited until now." I handed her a small leather pouch. She took it, laying her brush to the side, and opened it, pulling out a small cross. She stretched out the cord, and looked at me in surprise. "But this is your mountain cross! You always wear this!" She said, looking at me with a strange look I couldn't quite fathom. The cross was one I had found mountain climbing several years earlier. I had been in a small accident. I'd fallen into a glacier fed stream on a mountain trip, while collecting firewood in a storm. I'd almost frozen before I'd made it back to the cabin. Literally. I thought I was going to die. I was staggering the last 20 feet to the building, in a daze, when a friend returning from the outhouse ran into me, and dragged me inside to warm up. The next morning I found a small ivory cross on a rotted leather lanyard at almost the very place I had climbed out of the stream, and I had worn it for years since then. Sheri knew the story. I had told her the whole thing one evening when I had been giving her driving lessons. I don't know what had motivated me to give it to her, but I had had this urge, and I've always been a pretty impetuous person. "I just want you to have it." I explained. She patted the bed beside her for me to sit down then she handed me the cross to put around her neck and turned her back to me. I passed my hands over the head, letting the cross dangle in the valley between her breasts, and she reached back and pulled her hair up and out of the way, so I could latch the necklace on her. When I was done she turned to me, and fingering the cross she thanked me. "I got the strangest call today." She told me. "Strange how?" I asked. "Kathryn called me. We haven't talked probably in over a year, but she called me out of the blue, and we talked about nothing but you for over an hour." She said with a teasing smile. I could feel my face burning from the blush. We were real quiet for a bit. Then she spoke up softly, not looking at me at all, just looking down at her hands. "Do you remember the skating party where you asked me to skate, like 5 times?" "Do I ever! My hand was so sweaty I was embarrassed to hold yours, but didn't know how to dry it off, and I wasn't good enough a skater to make a real dance out of it." I laughed. "I thought you liked me, and were going to ask me out, but you never did. Why not?" She asked. The memory was embarrassing, and I thought about it a bit before confessing. "I had skated with Kathryn earlier in the evening, and she asked me who I liked. I told her I would answer by the end of the evening. Later, just when I was trying to get the nerve up to skate with you again, and ask you to sit by me on the Pensacola bus trip, Jack found me and told me that I had better ask Kathryn to skate. She was waiting for me to tell her something. Well, I did ask her to skate, and she reminded me of our previous conversation. I admitted that I really liked two people, you and her. Then she asked me if I minded if she 'monopolized' me for a while. I went along. You know the rest. One out-of-town bus trip; one back-row of the movie; and me completely screwing everything up." She listened without showing too much surprise. "But how come you never tried anything after that?" "God! How could I? You knew everything that had happened. Don't you remember the time I stopped by when Net was over here spending the night. Every time I passed you guys, you seemed to be laughing at me. And then when you passed me in the hall and whispered, "Oooh, I Love You," teasing me with what I'd said to Kathryn before completely blowing her off, I was just devastated. I hadn't screwed up just the one chance, but you as well." Sheri had the grace to blush from embarrassment at that. "I really didn't know much of what was going on. Kathryn just told me to go up to you and say that. I'm sorry." "Not half as sorry as I was." I told her. "You had to know how much I liked you. I was always trying to be around you and do things with you." "I didn't know how much of that was just being Tommy's sister, or what. I kept waiting for you to try something, anything, but you never did." She looked at me intensely almost with anguish. I was 16 all over again. I was still embarrassed over my ineptness around women. I had screwed things up with Kathryn. I had screwed up with Teri. And I had screwed up with Sheri. Since then I'd had more than my share of success with the young women I'd known, but all of a sudden, it was like I was a clumsy, scared virgin all over again. Sheri looked at me for a long while, then finally sighed and looked away, picking up her brush and going back to brushing her hair. "Some things will never change, I guess," she muttered, ignoring me. I started to get up, to go to my room, knowing this was neither the time, nor the place to try to start something with Sheri, but I just couldn't leave things as they were. I reached out and took the brush from her, which she relinquished slowly. I then took her by the shoulders and turned her away from me, so I could brush her hair. I brushed her hair in silence for a bit, before speaking. "For at least a year after leaving here, I would dream about you all the time. You were the girl of my fantasies. We wrote so well for a while, and I kept all your letters, reading them over and over again, looking for hidden meaning in the words, wondering if I'd ever get a chance to be with you. I still have those letters." I confessed. Several long seconds later Sheri reached down to the bottom drawer of her chest, next to the bed and opened it. She reached under her sweaters, and pulled out a pile of letters held together with a rubber-band. I recognized my writing. She turned to look at me, and her eyes glistened. I dropped the brush, leaned over and nervously kissed her, hoping beyond hope she wouldn't throw me out of her room with a ruckus. Instead she turned, and returned my kiss with a depth and passion I could only have prayed for. When we broke apart, we just looked at each other. Suddenly I couldn't help but giggle. "What?" She asked, almost crossly. "Do you remember how you thought you'd get pregnant from French kissing?" I recalled. She blushed again. "I can't believe you still remember that, you beast. How did you find that out anyway?" "Kathryn told me on the bus trip. I think she was trying to make you seem naive to me, sort of solidify her hold on me." I told her. "That Bitch! She always denied it, but I couldn't think of anyone else who knew." We laughed a bit, and gradually fell back into kissing each other. At the next break in our kissing, Sheri nailed me again. "Tommy said you did it with Angela. Was she your first?" "No. I never did do it with her. And Colleen was my first." I admitted. "Colleen? From yearbook?" "Yeah. But not until a year later. She went to Mosley with me, and we hooked up at a party. It was weird and nothing much happened of it. Three weeks later I was headed to Chile." I told her. She just shook her head at me. "Since it's time for true confessions, who was your first?" I asked teasing. "Rich? Mike?" "Oh God, no!" she laughed. "Then who?" She never answered, just turned a bright red. "Come on, fair's fair. I told you." I urged her relentlessly. She mumbled something I couldn't make out. "I can't hear you, who was it?" I teased again. She looked up, almost fiercely. "Nobody, all right?" I was stunned, and the ensuing silence seemed endless. "You're kidding me." I finally said, hardly believing. Her answer was so soft I almost missed it. "At one time I thought you'd be my first." This time when we kissed, I allowed my hands to wander, throwing caution to the wind. I cupped her perfect young breast in my hand, letting my thumb brush across her nipple, getting it hard. We were both gasping when we broke apart. "Steve?" "Yes?" "Go close your door, and turn off your light, then turn off the light in the bathroom," she said softly. I did, and she had turned down the light in her room. She was lying in the bed, the covers folded down neatly, waiting for me. She was still in her nightie. I stood beside the bed and made my commitment. I removed my shirt, and then my shorts, sporting a huge hard-on, which she stared at in wonder. I climbed into her bed completely naked. She had been laying sideways, leaning on her elbow, but as I entered the bed, she rolled onto her back, lying down, waiting for me. She was achingly beautiful in the dim light, and I was afraid I was going to come on the spot if she even touched me. I leaned over her and kissed her, but this time the kiss never stopped. I lost my soul in that kiss. I lost all track of time and presence. Our mouths stayed connected as we explored and played with our tongues, and my hands embarked on their exploration of the wonders of her body. My hands touched her all over, before finally settling in the warm crease between her legs. She had panties on, and as my fingers rubbed up and down her hidden folds, I found a small wet spot, maybe the size of a dime slowly spreading. Once I was aggressively rubbing her, sliding the material up and down, half-an inch into her by this time, the wetness enveloped the entire area. I slid my hand less than a foot up her body, and let my finger tips creep under the band of her panties. My hand slid down, the soft down of her hair like a magical lure, the gentle pressure of her panties against the back of my hand trapping me. Our kiss finally broke, and from an inch away we looked into each other's eyes as I slowly slid my middle finger between those forbidden lips, and into her. The aroma of her need assaulted me, and the quiet squish of her wetness against my finger was the ultimate aphrodisiac. I was engulfed with desire. I started to crawl over her, placing my knee between hers when she stopped me. "Wait." Then she raised her hips, and scrunched down, raised her knees, moments later passing me a small, but incredibly erotic piece of plain, white material. I was beyond reason, and I climbed between her legs. She spread them for me, seeming as eager as I. I grabbed my throbbing rod in hand, and by feel, rubbed the head up and down her moistness, adding pressure bit by bit, until I felt it settle in at the mouth of her pussy. She gave a small gasp, as the head slid in just a bit, not quite in her yet, but knowing that I was one small push from being inside. "Be gentle," she said, and I could see a hint of nervousness and fear in her eyes. I leaned over and kissed her softly, and while our lips touched, I pushed, sinking into her. At least for a bit. About halfway in I hit a barrier. I was confused at first. I pulled back and pushed again, a little harder, thinking I was sticking, and she grunted a little as if in pain. It finally sunk in. I had been with plenty of women, and several who had claimed to be virgins, but none with their cherry intact. I wasn't sure what to do. I probed again, and this time elicited a small 'ow'. What was I to do? I lay on top of her, my cock buried four inches deep in the girls of my dreams, and I was at a complete loss. Sheri shifted a bit under me, wrapped her legs around mine, and pulled me close. She whispered into my ear. "Take me." It was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard. Nervously I pulled back until I was just at the opening and I drove down hard, feeling just a pinch before my pelvis was grinding into hers. I was completely inside her. I got up on my elbows and looked down at her. I could see a single wet trail that glistened from the side of her eye to her ear. "Are you ok?" I asked her, holding myself still, deep inside of her. "Wonderful," she said softly, tilting her chin up slightly for a kiss. I accepted the offer, and kissed her gently, while I experimented with moving my cock within her incredibly tight sheath. I felt I was only moments from coming, but I couldn't resist moving my hips just a bit, exploring the feeling of being inside her. I leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I always wanted you. You knew it. I knew it. But I was afraid. I was afraid of the ribbing from your brother. Afraid of being exposed for knowing nothing about what to do with a girl. Afraid of ruining our friendship. Afraid of striking out, and you telling all the other girls, and my being the laughingstock. Afraid of so many stupid things. I was an idiot." "You weren't afraid of Kathryn," she answered softly. "She initiated it all. She pushed forward, asking to monopolize me, holding my hand. I probably never would have made the move. If I could change one thing, it would be that skating party. I should have saved that last moonlight skate for you, and asked you out. I should have told Kathryn that you were the one girl I was interested in. Who knows how things might have worked out? Plus, it wasn't as big a deal. If things didn't work out, oh well. But if I ruined things with you, it would have killed all my dreams." She was hot beneath me, her skin almost burning to my touch, I was finally moving inside of her, but I quickly had to stop, again on the verge of coming, and embarrassed at my short trigger. "Make love to me Steve," she said breathlessly. I gave a few more strokes and had to stop again. "Don't stop," she pleaded. "I'm sorry, I'm so excited I'm on the verge of coming now. If I move I won't be able to stop," I finally confessed. "Do it. Pump me, take me, come deep inside me," she answered. Those words were too much, and with a gasp I drove my cock in hard, and exploded inside her. I pulled back and slammed into her a dozen times or so, making the bed creak alarmingly as I emptied myself inside her virgin moistness. As my heart hammer away in my chest, and my breathing gasped, she gave me a small joyous laugh. "Wow, I guess you were close!" Then she gave a big hug before she pushed me off of her. She climbed over me, her hand pressed between her legs and scrambled into the bathroom, waddling inelegantly but still incredibly arousing to me. I heard her tinkle, and then return to the bed with a facecloth with which she wiped my semi-hard cock clean. Then she climbed into bed, her head on my shoulder and talked. She recounted almost ever time that we'd been together alone, all the adventures we'd had, the summer we'd learned to play tennis together, and what she'd thought might happen. We laughed a little at my ineptness and her caution as well. Then I felt her hand creep down between my legs. "Do you think we could try that again?" she asked me hesitantly. "I'm dying to, but I was afraid I might have hurt you." I laughed my foolish insecure laugh. "So hurt me," she teased, giving a tug on my cock. This time I held out a little better. I climbed between her legs again, and made love to her, still gently, still nervous. But before long I was feeling that familiar rhythm of need, and my strokes became longer and more insistent. I had to have her. I had to take her. I had to fill her deeply, completely. I sat up in the bed, discarding the covers, and raised her legs, pushing them back, and screwing her powerfully, shaking her body, crashing into her with a burning need. She was still wearing her nightie, but it had ridden up above her belly button, just a couple of inches below her breasts. I stopped my motion and whispered to her, "Rise up on your elbows." She looked at me oddly but did, raising her head a few inches off the pillow. I leaned over and lifted her nightie up above her breast, allowing me to see the objects of my desire and fantasies. "God, I've pictured those in my mind for four years, and yet never came close to imagining how perfect and beautiful they are." I said, more to myself than to her. I resumed my fucking, for that was what I was doing now, fucking her. Fucking her hard. She had her bottom lip captured between her teeth, and now she was holding her nightie in her hands, almost to her chin, allowing me an uninterrupted view of her oh-so-perfect tits. The visuals were all too much and pushed me over the edge once again. The beautiful face, the long hair arrayed across the pillow, the full breasts, bouncing a counter-beat to my pounding, her flat stomach, hollowed, and the light fur of her hair parted to allow my pole to penetrate her again and again. With a moan I came for her again, collapsing beside her, sated, and in complete serenity and joy. "I guess you really do like me," she laughed, cuddling up to my side. Then she was asking me about my afternoon meeting with Kathryn. "What did she tell you?" I asked, a little nervous. "No, you tell me what happened. I don't trust her," she insisted. I told her the whole story, including the ending. In full short-but-sweet detail. "I knew it!" She laughed. "She said you tried to come on to her, and made her grab you there, but she turned you down." "If that's how she wants to tell it that's fine by me. I owe her one; let her have it however she wants." I said "When you went to the movies, what really happened there?" she asked, with her one-track mind. I wasn't sure what her preoccupation was but I finally told her the whole scene, everything I'd done, every liberty I'd taken. At the end I waited in judgment. "She's such a liar. She said you tried to reach inside her pants but she stopped you." "Hardly, I could smell her on my fingers for day afterwards." I laughed. Sheri was lost in thought pressed up against me. My hands were idling rubbing her back, the material of her nightie soft and silky against my fingertips. "I guess there's only one thing she's done with you that we haven't done," Sheri started, and then she slid under the covers and a moment later I felt the warm wetness of her mouth enveloping me. I could see the covers moving as she used her mouth to pleasure me, taking only a few moments to make me hard, and then sucking me like there was no tomorrow. Which, in a way I guess there wasn't. I wanted to see her, so I pulled the covers back and looked down at her. She continued a few more strokes, then shifted and faced me a little more, finally lifting her eyes to watch me, watching her, suck my cock. A few more deep strokes and she pulled off with a smile. "I can see that's one thing you like," she said with a grin. "Like is an understatement." I laughed. She gave me a couple more sucks, and then she straddled me, and rose up to take me inside of her again. I wanted her so bad I could almost scream. She got me positioned right, and then slowly lowered herself the full length of my staff with one long, smooth stroke. Then, settled on my hips, my turgid meat buried in her achingly tight recess, she lifted the bottom of her nightie and pulled it up and over her head. I'd been to several strip shows before that, but never in my life had I seen anything so beautiful or so erotic. I could feel my pulse in my cock, throbbing inside her. She opened her eyes wide, and looked down between her legs. "Wow, I could feel that. At least one part of you really likes to see the girls," she laughed, holding her breasts cupped in her hands, and jiggling them for me. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." I told her. "Right, and now I guess you're going to tell me you love me, just like Kathryn." She said it with a hint of bitterness I didn't understand. "The difference is back then it was the hormones of a 16 year old talking. You on the other hand, I've loved for three years. And you know it." I said, and only as I spoke the words did I realize to my very soul, just how true it was. Sheri didn't answer. She leaned forward and rocked back and forth on my hard cock, enjoying the feeling of controlling the penetration, the pace, the timing. She paced herself to my breathing and excitement. When I started to get really excited she'd slow down and hold me, letting me ease back from the edge. When I was strong and ready, she'd ride me hard. She let my hands explore her as she did the work, and I touched her everywhere I could reach, just wallowing in the sensations. I pulled her down within reach, and tasted her nipples, playing with those perfect globes. The feel of her breasts, that impossible soft pale skin under my lips, making way to the crinkled, tougher skin, peaking to a little nub seemingly designed for me to tease and taste. Finally, after what seemed an eternity of sensual, erotic play, she laid down on me, her breasts pressed against my chest, her mouth on my neck, while she slowly rocked her hips, fucking herself gently on my rod. "Come for me Steve," she said, almost as a command. I reached down and took her full, soft ass cheeks in my hands, grasping them tight, and I held her up a bit off of me, so I could us my hips to drive in and out of her channel more completely. I was able to get a good long stroke established, and I could feel the cool air brushing against my wet shaft each time I pulled outward. We had made love for what seemed ages before she issued that first command for me to come. Now she issued another one. "Tell me again." I couldn't hold back any longer, and didn't want to. I was fucking the prettiest girl I'd ever known; The first girl that I had really badly wanted; The sweet little virgin that I had fantasized about for so long; Whose pretty face had been the image I'd been picturing as I filled enough old gym socks with cum to fill a stadium. "I love you, Sheri. I've loved you as long as I've known you." And with that I pulled her down hard on my cock, coming inside my dream girl again, and absorbing the feeling, knowing I was leaving within hours, not knowing when I'd see her again. "I love you, Steve," she said, I could feel her tears rolling down the side of my face. I looked up to see the sky lightening with the coming dawn, and thought to myself, "That's another one you've got up on Kathryn." I disentangled myself from her limbs and kissed her. "I have to go. Tommy's going to be looking for me any minute." Somehow we had spent the entire night reminiscing, sharing and making love. It was so difficult, but I tore myself from her arms, tucked her in bed, and kissed her goodnight. "Get a couple of hours of sleep; I'll be able to sleep on the bus." I told her. She was still wearing the cross I'd given her. She held it now. "Thanks for the Christmas present." She said with a small sad smile. I kissed her again, and retreated to the bathroom for a quick shower and shave. Back in my room, I dressed, and found a present waiting for me on my suitcase. A 8 by 10 picture of Sheri, as beautiful as I'd ever seen her, with a small inscription on the back. "Merry Christmas. Don't forget about me. Love, Sheri" I had just finished putting it away when Tommy knocked on my door, dragging me out to breakfast, and then off to the bus. The rest of that trip was uneventful; I made it home OK, picked up some presents in Panama, saw some old friends, and made it back to college in one piece. But I'll always recall that first Christmas away from home, and the greatest Christmas present I ever received. Not my first erector set, or the 114 piece Lincoln Log tube. Not my first really Cool bicycle, a purple spider bike with banana seat, big handle bars and a three speed shifter on the bar. Not my first electric guitar, a Fender, and amp, which I think my parents had some second thoughts about. No, Sheri's was the nicest gift I ever received, and probably ever will receive, for Christmas. "Thanks" just doesn't seem to say enough. Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales, in 2 parts, for Literotica

Lost At Christmas: Part 1 His First Christmas away from home, & His best gift ever. Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First time. After my first semester in College, I was eager to go home for the holidays. I was going to school in Rochester, New York, and anybody who'd experienced the lake-effect winters on the Great Lakes would understand my desire to get to somewhere warmer. For me, that somewhere warmer was a long ways away. As a military brat, home was often a moving target, and that winter it was Santiago, Chile, where my father was stationed and where I'd graduated high-school. It was summer in Santiago, and I was looking forward to a pool-party with my old school mates for the Holidays. We didn't have a lot of money, but I was allowed to travel space available on a military flight as a Navy ROTC student. I had to get down to Charleston, South Carolina, and catch an international C1 41 flight that made a loop through Latin America. After finagling a ride to Virginia followed by a very long bus trip down the coast, I finally made it to Charleston AFB. ROTC travel orders in hand, I checked in at the desk, and verified I was on the standby list for the flight leaving on the 23rd. I wouldn't get home until Christmas Day, but better late than never. With pockets nearly empty, a hotel room was out of the question so I slept in the terminal and snacked on the cheapest eats I could get away with. There was a festive mood in the terminal, so many people rushing to get home for the holidays, and I was getting caught up in the feeling, eagerly looking forward to that very long plane ride, first to Panama, then Lima, and finally Santiago. After what seemed an interminable wait, we were an hour away from boarding when I got bumped off the flight by a group of Marines headed to Panama on Active Duty travel orders. I was devastated. The next flight left early the morning of the 26th. At least that one was a huge plane, and nearly empty so I was virtually guaranteed to get aboard, but what was I going to do for Christmas? Looking up at the outgoing flight schedules, I saw a flight listed for Tyndall AFB, Panama City, Florida. "When is the flight to Tyndall headed out?" I asked the airman behind the desk. "In an hour-and-a-half, and it's all but empty. You want on?" He asked, offering some recompense for my last minute bump. I'd lived in Panama City during 9th and 10th grade, and still had some close friends there, many I still kept in touch with. Maybe I could find someone to spend Christmas with there. It had to be better than sleeping in the terminal for 2 more days. "Please," I told him, "but hold my space for Santiago. I'll be back for that flight." I recalled there being a pretty big Greyhound station in Panama City, so I called Greyhound and checked on a bus being able to get me back in time for the flight. They had one, a 7:30 am bus on Christmas morning would get me back before midnight on Christmas. I could easily make the flight the next morning, even if it were delay a few hours. I bought a ticket, using the emergency Am Ex card my parents had given me when I headed off to college. I'd explain the $67.00 to my parents. I called my family in Santiago with the news. It had to be short call because of the expense, so I let them know I had been bumped but would be there on the 28th. I told them I was headed to Panama City, and would be taking a bus back in plenty of time for my flight. My mother cried, and my father told me to go ahead and use the credit card, but to try to keep the expenses reasonable. By the time I hung up I was pretty depressed, but at least I had a plan. Before I could try to contact anyone in Panama City, an announcement was made and suddenly I was on my way to Florida for Christmas, with no place lined up to stay, and practically broke. I was feeling a bit melancholy, but was determined to make the best of it. So there I was, at Tyndall Air Force Base, at 11:20 pm on December 23rd. I was debating who to try first. I had several close friends nearby and I expected they'd all be home for Christmas. After a short internal debate, I had narrowed it down to two. I had always gotten along well with their entire families, and I was still in pretty regular contact with both of them. Mike lived the nearest to me in the old days. He came from a big family, with 6 siblings, including Peggy, who'd been one of my first real deep infatuations. When I had been in 9th grade she'd been a senior, and was pretty and sophisticated. My yearning for her was unrequited, but I relished the idea of seeing her again after four years. She was a college senior, and would probably be home. I knew they'd welcome me, but I was concerned it would be an inconvenience. They did not have a large house, and it was bound to be crowded, particularly with three college kids home for the holiday. On top of that who knew if they had anyone else in tow? Tommy on the other hand came from a relatively well-off family who always lived well within their means. He had an older brother, who was working in Japan and unlikely to be home, a sister, Sheri, just a year behind us in school, and two much younger siblings, who I guessed would be around 9 and 10 by now. They had a spacious house, each kid had their own room, and I wouldn't be putting anybody out if I stayed there. I'd always had a crush on Sheri, but although I'd dated her best friend, I'd never gone out with her. Getting a chance to see her again would be an extra bonus. Feeling nervous and awkward, I dialed Tommy's number from memory, and luckily got him on the first call. If I'd gotten somebody else, I would have really felt uncomfortable. Tommy's answer was unmistakable. He had a funny way of saying hello when he answered the phone, and the sound of his voice took me straight back down memory lane. "Hee-ello," he answered. "Tommy! Guess who?" I asked. I guess my voice must have been similarly recognizable, since he didn't hesitate a second. "Steve-o! What are you up to? Where're you at?" He answered eagerly. It put a smile on my face. Nice to hear a happy, upbeat voice that seemed genuinely pleased to hear from me. "Funny you should ask. It's a long story, but I'm in a bit of a bind. I'm at Tyndall, and stuck here until Christmas Day." I told him. "What happened to Chile, and Rochester?" He asked. "I was on my way home to Chile, when I lost my seat on the plane in Charleston. I couldn't get out again until the 26th, so when I saw an empty plane headed this way, I just hopped on and hoped for the best." I explained. "That's Great!" He almost shouted. "Not great that you couldn't get home, but great that you're here. You want to stay with us? You can have Greg's room, he won't be here, and I'm sure Sheri and Mom would love to see you. The place is kind of 'down' with Greg canceling his trip home at the last minute. Having you here should cheer things up a bit." He did sound enthused, and I couldn't help grinning in reply. "Don't you think you should check?" I laughed. A scream in my ear was the answer, as I heard half of a shouted conversation. "Mom! Guess Who's In Town." "No, Not Greg." "No, Go Ahead Guess." "Guess Again." "Ok, Ok - Steve." "Yeah, Steve Pelland. He's Stuck Here In Town 'Til Christmas Day." "Of Course I Told Him He Should Come Here, I'll Go Get Him." "I Will." "Yes Mom; Yes; I Won't; I Will." I was holding the phone a little away from my head, and almost missed it when he came back on. "Where should I pick you up?" He asked. "The Main Terminal, you know where that is right?" I answered. "Sure - be there in about 30 minutes. Man, this is Great!" I hung up with a big smile on my face, feeling 100% better than I had just 10 minutes earlier. I stood outside waiting for him, and about 20 minutes later the strings of Christmas lights shut off one at a time, as the place closed up for the night. It was dark and quiet, and I started to get nervous again, wondering if this had been such a good idea. I was 500 miles from my flight home and completely at the mercy of old friends. But as far as friends go, I couldn't do much better than mine, and figured at the least I wouldn't be sleeping in a lonely terminal in Charleston for two days, slowly eating my way through my meager funds. When Bob pulled up around midnight, I could see he'd gotten rid of the VW Bug he'd inherited from his mother upon turning 16, and was now driving his brother's old Two-tone Cougar. We spent a minute saying hi, and loading my gear into the trunk, and then we headed back into town, catching each other up on history. When I had first moved to Santiago, I used to write about once every couple of months, as well as call a couple of times a year. In the beginning I'd written Sheri a lot as well. She was one of the most prolific writers among my old friends, and would typically write twice to me for every one I wrote to her. Over the years, that had degenerated into holiday cards and a surprise call maybe once a year. I knew he was attending Florida State, and that Greg had graduated from Georgetown, and had moved to Japan on business. That was about it. Tommy told me all about the old gang, who was in town, who was going to what schools, what people had been up to. I told him a lot more detail about what I'd been up to. "So," he asked, "Got a girl?" "Not now. Thought I had one after the ROTC Christmas ball, but that seems to have been my mistake." I admitted. "Hard to believe. You always had someone. Every letter, every phone-call, just seems like they didn't stay the same all that long." He teased. "I don't know. I had several relationships last pretty long. Two were more than 6 months long." I argued. "Oh! Six Months!" He laughed. "How about you then," I asked in defense. "Still Erin. Almost two years now." He asked. "Shit. What does she see in you? She could do so much better." I teased. "Oh really? Like how?" "Like me!" I laughed. "Right, like that would ever happen! Don't even think about it, or you'll be sleeping in the street." He was laughing as well. "Not if I called Erin I wouldn't," I shot back. I thought it was a great comeback, but it earned me a sock in the arm. We pulled up to his house, which still looked exactly the same, and things were pretty quiet. They used the same window lights, same roof lights, same bush trimmings year after year. It was just as I remembered. Who says you can't go back? "Mom's got to work tomorrow, so I'm sure she's in bed, and you know Dave crashes early, so we better keep it down. We've got lots to do tomorrow anyway." We entered quietly and put my bag in Greg's old room. Tommy stayed and chatted for a few minutes then bid me good night, telling me to sleep in as long as I wanted, as long as it wasn't past 9:00 am, and left me to get settled. Past 9:00? Now I remembered, they'd always been an early-bird household. For me 9:00 am Was the crack of dawn. Tommy and I had breakfast at about 9:30. He was already chiding me for sleeping in and missing the whole family. We had the house to ourselves. He'd been on the phone arranging our day, and once we'd finished the pancakes, we were off to see Mike and his family. Entering Mike's house was the same as it had ever been, but more-so. People everywhere, noise, laughter, roughhousing, it was all taken in stride by Mrs. Frey. We spent a few hours visiting, and getting fed again before we could leave. Mike's older sister Peggy still looked cute to me, but not the amazing creature my memory had somehow stored away. I had to tease her about the Christmas gift she'd given me three years earlier. She'd bought me a Richard Pryor tape, thinking it was Bill Cosby. When I played it for her in my car, she exploded, calling me names and accusing me of vile intent. At the time I had felt bad, confused, angry and a host of other feelings, now thankfully we could laugh at it. When I'd been 16 I'd been somewhat in awe of her, now things were comfortable. Mike's older brother was home as well, with his live-in girlfriend who seemed awfully ill-at-ease, and must have been at least 5 years older than Dan, maybe more. That was a story I'd have to hear more about. The biggest surprise was Alice. She'd been a few years younger than us. I wasn't sure if she was 16 or 17 now, but she was a bombshell. And she was coming on to me like gangbusters. I was really nervous, with her acting all touchy-feely with her mother and Peggy there. I was suddenly glad I had chosen to stay over with Tommy. With a pretty, stacked girl that seemed so infatuated with me around, I'm afraid I might have gotten into a whole lot more trouble than I needed. When we left there Mike joined us, and it was off to see Jack and Russ. They were a year apart in age. Russ had been in our class, and we'd been friendly with him, but Jack, although a year younger was our buddy. We played on the basketball team together, and when Tommy and I formed our first band, Jack was our bassist. At the Chambers house, we once again reminisced, and had to relive our first 'gig'. We had decided to play in the school talent show. With Tommy on piano and Jack on bass, I played guitar. We had a fourth guy on drums we'd all lost contact with. We had played Elton John, Deep Purple, The Eagles, and The Beatles. We had opened with the opening riff of "Smoke on the Water", and had been a hit. We were pretty lousy, but the audience was our friends, our parents and the parents of our friends, and at the end the parents even took up a collection for us. Pretty heady stuff. We'd called ourselves Bronze Myth, and had already designed our first three album covers before we had our first birthday party gig. Jack had been tall then, and had not stopped growing; he was now 6'7" and was attending University of Florida, playing basketball. He reminded me of the time when we went on our first dates together. I had gone with Kathryn Best, easily the most lusted after girl in the whole school, who was in Jack's class a year behind me. Jack, on the other hand, had gone out with our "Valentine's Day Queen", Anne, who was in my class and almost two full years older than Jack. He was always precocious. There had been a third couple with us, Dennis and Suzanne, and Jack broke the news that Suzanne had gotten knocked up, just before I left to go overseas, and she and Dennis had gotten married. There was a huge scandal, but they stuck together, and had the baby. They lived with Suzanne's parents. Dennis was doing alright, working for Suzanne's father. While we were visiting, several friends dropped in, including the aforementioned Kathryn who lived one street over. Kathryn, the stunning brunette who had the body of a 20 year old when she was 15, and had a beautiful face with features that just slayed me. Kathryn, the very first girl I had gotten to Third Base with. She was as pretty as I remembered, and I found out she was going to be attending Mt. Holyoke the following year, which was an odd coincidence since my girlfriend from High School was a sophomore there. Going out with Kathryn, a year younger than me had been a total fiasco. We'd sat together on an out-of-town bus trip and ranked high enough in the pecking order that we got the right hand seat second from the back. These trips were our biggest dates back then. Ours was a small parochial school, and on the bus trips, the athletes, cheerleaders and student fans all rode the same bug. The 30-90 minute trips were like pep rallies on the way out, and like the back of movie theatres on the way back. There were frequent "hand-checks" and the lights would come one as our coaches would walk the aisle, but it seemed like after our wins, the checks would be a little less frequent. Our win at Pensacola was my first real 'make-out' session, as we cuddled and kissed the whole trip home. I even got a chance to play with her breast through her sweater. Less than a week later I asked her to the movies, and we sat in the back with the two other couples, probably both scared spitless and nervous as goldfish in a blender. We'd started necking, which got more and more intense, and my hands boldly went where no hands had gone before. An hour into the movie I was almost out of control, and feverish with desire, and it seemed she was willing to let me do whatever I wanted. If I'd had a little more confidence, or a little more knowledge, who knows what might have happened? As it is, I went pretty far, probably too far, and I was scared to death afterwards. She was the first girl whose flesh I'd touched underneath her clothing. I didn't call her for several days, and even avoided her at school, not knowing what to say. In short I was a total jerk. Everyone thought we should be together, she was the pretty captain of the cheerleaders, with the big boobs, and I was the Big Jock, playing all the sports, while at the same time excelling in school. She was voted "Most Popular." I was "Most Likely to Succeed." However, in this case it turned out she was "Most Slighted", and I was definitely "Most Inept." After waiting several days, amazingly patient in retrospect, she had tasked her best friend Sheri, Tommy's sister, with letting me know that she thought we shouldn't go out. Next thing you know, she was going out with some geeky looking kid, and she dated him for the rest of the school year. I'd changed schools at the end of that year, and had seen her only infrequently the following year, before moving to Santiago. Outside in the backyard, Kathryn and I walked off together and finally had a few minutes alone. "You know Kat, I don't think I ever apologized for being such an idiot, after our first date. I really am sorry." She was quiet for a while. She had a sad little look. "You know, I waited by that phone night after night, crying myself to sleep. I saw you dodging me at school and it broke my heart." "I was young and stupid. I'd never done Anything with a girl before, and could hardly even believe I was with the hottest girl in school. After all the stuff I did, God, I was so embarrassed that I'd overstepped the boundaries, and I had no idea what to say." She sat down underneath the big tree in the backyard and I sat beside her on the circular bench around it. "You could have said something to Jack maybe, or Tommy, and let them tell me. At least let me know that you liked me, or had fun. Something." She looked on the verge of tears, even 3 years later, and I felt even worse. "I know. I kept kicking myself over it. I was so angry with myself and jealous when you went out with Ricky." I admitted. "He was nice to me when I needed it." "But it seemed such an odd fit. He was a nobody; the only thing he ever did noteworthy was date you." I told her. "He lived two houses down. We'd grown up together, and when my heart was broken he picked up the pieces. He could tell something was wrong, and really made me feel a lot better." She confessed. That brought on a short period of silence. It did let me think better of Ricky, who wasn't just lucky or an opportunist. "You know, that was one of the most memorable moments in my life. Touching a girl like that for the first time. I had no idea what I should do, or what I could do, but I kept looking down the row at Dennis and Suzanne, and figured I should be able to do that too. I was in heaven; you were so amazing to be with." I told her, reaching out and taking her hand in mine. Her palm was moist. "You're telling me? You were the big 9th grader with the learner's permit and motorcycle. Big Man on Campus. The guy every girl wanted. And you wanted me. I had no idea what we should or shouldn't do on a date. I was hoping you knew." We laughed at that, remembering the intensity of those feelings. "Given a chance to do it over, I'd have camped out on your doorstep and professed my undying, eternal love the moment you walked out the door." I told her, half serious. "As I recall, you professed your love for me that evening, just before opening the top of my pants." She said with a wicked grin. I'm sure I blushed mightily. "I can't really ask forgiveness, but I really am sorry. Sorry now and sorry then. I fantasized about you for years afterwards, thinking of what could have happened if I hadn't been such a jerk. You have no idea how many of my fantasies you starred in back then." "If only you'd have let me know. Ricky was my first. It could have been you. Given half a chance, it would have been you." She had moved close and was speaking softly. "And this is my punishment. Knowing how bad I fucked up. Seeing you here, as beautiful as in my dreams, and knowing I've screwed up any chance of being with you." I placed my hand behind her head, stroking her hair. "I wouldn't say you'd screwed up Any chance, but you certainly blew that one." We were looking deeply in each other's eyes, recalling strong, painful feelings. I wanted her now, as I'd wanted her then, with a deep burning need, and I leaned forward those last two inches, and captured her lips with mine. She slid forward and melted against me, kissing me with every emotion boiling to the surface. She took my hand and placed it on her incredible chest, and I squeezed her breast, my thumb reliving that first caress of her nipple from so many years earlier. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, and then broke apart. Her eyes glistened. "I've got a boyfriend." She confessed. I nodded understanding. "If I didn't?" I reached forward pressing my index finger to her lips. "I know. I missed my chance. It's my loss." We just sat side by side a minute, in silence. "You know," she said softly, "what you did to me that night, that was part of the problem." "I know. I'm sorry if I stepped over the line." I said, even now embarrassed at the liberties I'd taken. "No, not anything wrong. What you did to me, how you made me feel. You made me cream my jeans more than once that night. It was the first time I'd ever come. I'd heard about it, but it was almost unreal. Your fingers just drove me wild. It was over a year before another guy was able to do the same." She put her hand between her legs, seemingly remembering that first night. "That makes two of us. I don't know if you knew, but I came in my pants too, and you never even touched me there. By the time I got home I was a terrible sticky mess. I snuck out and threw that underwear away before my mother could find them and ask uncomfortable questions." I told her, laughing. She gave me an odd little look, and then slid around the tree, placing its 3 foot wide trunk between us and the house. She reached out for me, and of course I followed. "Could I, I mean would you mind?" She seemed lost for words. "What? Just ask. I certainly owe you one." I told her. She didn't ask, she just started unbuckling my belt. "I always wondered, and never really had a chance to find out." With the belt open she unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. "I mean, that night, you got to find out pretty much ALL about me, but I didn't; " I lifted my hips and let her pull my pants down a short ways, and then she reached up and pulled my underwear down exposing my fully erect monument to her sexiness. "I knew it, you bastard. Look at that." I didn't have to look. I knew it pretty well. And it was certainly standing tall and making me proud. She took me in hand and stroked me up and down, which after all the discussion and reminiscing was almost enough to get me off. "I just knew it. This should have been my first." She slowly stroked me up and down, and then she leaned over and took me in her mouth for just a second, sucking me deep and then releasing me. That was it. It was too much for me, and I stood up and shot my wad a good two feet out from where we were sitting. She giggled, as she helped me through my release, then pulled my underwear up back over my still dripping cock, and wiped her hand on the front of my briefs, before helping me pull my jeans back up. "If I wasn't tied up, I'd have you paying reparations," she told me as we both stood, and she slapped my hands away from my belt and finished straightening me out herself. "Let's consider it a delayed payoff. If things don't work out for you, maybe we can try it again. Rochester isn't That far from Amherst." Little did I know what the future held in store for us, but that's a different story. We walked back to the house hand-in-hand, laughing at the folly of youth, from the wizened experience of our 18 and 19 years. She had to leave shortly after, as did we, and I kissed her goodbye at the door. Once the door was closed I heard an exclamation from behind me. I turned to Tommy who said, "Now I've seen everything." "Amen," said Jack. "What?" I asked. "After how you treated her after our first date, I was certain you were on her shit-list for life." Jack explained. "Absolutely." Tommy chimed in. "Sheri said that Kathryn fantasized about doing mean and nasty things to you for years. I mean, hell, you did use her pretty bad." "I was a dope. I did some things I'd never done before, and was so embarrassed I didn't know how to even face her. So I screwed up and avoided her. I just made my apologies and we worked things out. I think she understands that I didn't try to be mean; I was just young and stupid. I didn't know what I was doing, and regretted it for years." I told them. "Geez. I always wondered how you could pass on that, when she was so available to you. You really did fuck up, didn't you?" Tommy pointed out. "Yep, not the first time, and I'm certain not the last. But we've buried the hatchet it seems." I answered "I'm just astounded that hatchet isn't in your back." Jack added. We left just a short while after that. We had one last visit to make. Teri Branson was passing through town, and wanted to see us if she could. She was just there for the day, and none of us wanted to miss out on that chance. The summer before 10th grade, I'd practically lived at Teri's. It was football time, and we were doing twice-a-days. We'd have morning practice, then a break so we wouldn't be out all day in the noon-time Florida summer sun. After the break it was afternoon practice. Teri was at our school and I never really knew her until that summer. She lived only a block from Mike, and we had run into her one day out washing the family car. We struck up a conversation, and the rest was history. I spent every football break at her house that summer. Mike didn't play football, but I'd pick him up on the way over there, and we'd hang out. She had a pool table, and a private rec-room with a stand-up arcade game. Her mother would always bring us snacks and drinks. Teri had not been popular, and was new to the school as well. But in a period of just a few months she went from a boyish figured tom-boy, to a devastatingly beautiful teen. Her breasts seemed to almost explode outwards, and once we'd met her mom, we knew where she got it from. She lost some weight, traded glasses for contacts, grew tits, lost the braces, and suddenly this beauty was in our midst, and nobody even knew about her but us. She was our secret. Tommy was going to a different high-school from me and Mike, but we still hung together most of the summer, and we had to let him in on our secret. The closest we'd come to having anything happen was a bizarre game of spin-the-bottle underneath the pool table. Mike, Tommy, me and Teri. Just an excuse for us to take turns kissing her. Her father was being transferred again at the end of the summer. I told her I was going to have a birthday party, and that we were going to play spin-the-bottle, I had hoped she'd be there, but now she was leaving. We were all upset. Tommy suggested we play now, since she couldn't make it then, and we did. It was strange but wonderful. Two weeks later she was gone. We met Teri at the mall, our planned rendezvous. We couldn't miss her; she was the center of a lot of attention. And still gorgeous. We ran up to her and had hugs all around. "I can only stay about 20 minutes," she told us with a pout. "Damn," was all I could say. So the three of us toured the mall, observing all the changes. It had been brand new the year we had been together. We grabbed some drinks, and wandered back outside, our time almost up, and barely even caught up. "Teri, I have a confession." I told her. "I know we acted pretty much like friends, but I was crazy about you. That summer I went home every evening and dreamed of you." "Hell, we all did." Tommy admitted. "We were such idiots," she said. She reached up to my collar and pulled me down for a kiss. Teri stood maybe 5 foot 1, so I had at least a foot on her in height. Bent over I let her kiss me, and I returned it eagerly. Finally she released me. "I was so confused. One day I'd like you, and then the next day you," she said nodding around the group, "and then you. I kept wondering who was going to be my first real boyfriend. I just knew it was going to be one of you. And then it was all over." She looked up at me. "I Still dream about you sometimes." All we could do was laugh it off, and say we'd get together sometime. She was living in Phoenix now, finishing high school, and it looked like she'd be going to Stanford. It was going to be hard to ever make that commute work out, not that she didn't seem like it would be worth the effort. Then her parents drove up. We said hi to her mom (who had been a secret fantasy of mine back then) and then with a last set of hugs it was goodbye to Teri. It was getting late so we dropped Mike back off at his house, driving mostly in quiet. I imagine we were all lost in thought over the quirks of fate and what might have been. For me, it was thoughts of Kathryn and Teri, two incredible opportunities that any teen would kill for, and I'd let them slip through my fingers. We dropped Mike off, but didn't go inside. As it was we were running late, and knew that if we went in, it would be a while before we got out of there. From Mike's it was a 5 minute drive back to Tommy's, but we drove past Teri's old house, just for nostalgia's sake. At Tommy's we were running late. Dinner was going to be at 6:00 pm, and somehow we'd burned the whole day. It was 5:45 before we even walked in the door, and we both wanted to clean up before dinner. The kid's rooms were served by two separate bathrooms, one at the end of the hall, and one off of Greg's room. So I stripped down to my shorts, and went to take my shower. I hadn't expected the bathroom to be full. Sheri was in their, applying the last of her makeup. Fortunately (or unfortunately) she was dressed. When I walked in, she gave a squeal, and came over and gave me a big hug. "I can't believe you're here! You're looking good." She said, stepping back and giving me the once over. "Wow, Sheri, you look great!" was all I could say. She had always been pretty. But the difference between a 15 year old Sheri and this one was night and day. The more mature Sheri was a beautiful young woman. "Thanks," she said, "I'll be out of here in a second, and you can have the place to yourself. I'm dying to talk to you." "I'll be here all night." I joked, stepping back into the room I was using, before my underwear had to undergo any more strain. I sat on the bed waiting, and after just a minute or so she poked her head in and said "It's all yours." She left the door open and walked out the other side of the bathroom. So that was one change at least that I hadn't noticed. Back in the day, this was Greg's bathroom. But since then someone had taken out the linen closet, and the old closet door now opened into Sheri's room. In retrospect it should have been obvious. With Greg away, the bathroom had a lot of stuff in it, although very neat. If I'd opened a cabinet or drawer, I would have seen all the makeup and girl's things. I was using Sheri's bathroom. I rapidly cleaned up and dressed. I was in a bit of a hurry, wanting to still wrap a couple of small presents for my hosts. I had bought several music tapes for my sister as a Christmas present, and decided to gift Tommy with one of them. I also had a photo in a frame for my mom, and decided to make the frame a family gift. It was simple, hand-made by yours truly from apple-wood. After borrowing some paper, tape, and scissors, I was ready to join everyone else just a few minutes later. To be continued in part 2. Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales, in 2 parts, for Literotica

Lost At Christmas: Part 1 His First Christmas away from home, & His best gift ever. Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at My First time. After my first semester in College, I was eager to go home for the holidays. I was going to school in Rochester, New York, and anybody who'd experienced the lake-effect winters on the Great Lakes would understand my desire to get to somewhere warmer. For me, that somewhere warmer was a long ways away. As a military brat, home was often a moving target, and that winter it was Santiago, Chile, where my father was stationed and where I'd graduated high-school. It was summer in Santiago, and I was looking forward to a pool-party with my old school mates for the Holidays. We didn't have a lot of money, but I was allowed to travel space available on a military flight as a Navy ROTC student. I had to get down to Charleston, South Carolina, and catch an international C1 41 flight that made a loop through Latin America. After finagling a ride to Virginia followed by a very long bus trip down the coast, I finally made it to Charleston AFB. ROTC travel orders in hand, I checked in at the desk, and verified I was on the standby list for the flight leaving on the 23rd. I wouldn't get home until Christmas Day, but better late than never. With pockets nearly empty, a hotel room was out of the question so I slept in the terminal and snacked on the cheapest eats I could get away with. There was a festive mood in the terminal, so many people rushing to get home for the holidays, and I was getting caught up in the feeling, eagerly looking forward to that very long plane ride, first to Panama, then Lima, and finally Santiago. After what seemed an interminable wait, we were an hour away from boarding when I got bumped off the flight by a group of Marines headed to Panama on Active Duty travel orders. I was devastated. The next flight left early the morning of the 26th. At least that one was a huge plane, and nearly empty so I was virtually guaranteed to get aboard, but what was I going to do for Christmas? Looking up at the outgoing flight schedules, I saw a flight listed for Tyndall AFB, Panama City, Florida. "When is the flight to Tyndall headed out?" I asked the airman behind the desk. "In an hour-and-a-half, and it's all but empty. You want on?" He asked, offering some recompense for my last minute bump. I'd lived in Panama City during 9th and 10th grade, and still had some close friends there, many I still kept in touch with. Maybe I could find someone to spend Christmas with there. It had to be better than sleeping in the terminal for 2 more days. "Please," I told him, "but hold my space for Santiago. I'll be back for that flight." I recalled there being a pretty big Greyhound station in Panama City, so I called Greyhound and checked on a bus being able to get me back in time for the flight. They had one, a 7:30 am bus on Christmas morning would get me back before midnight on Christmas. I could easily make the flight the next morning, even if it were delay a few hours. I bought a ticket, using the emergency Am Ex card my parents had given me when I headed off to college. I'd explain the $67.00 to my parents. I called my family in Santiago with the news. It had to be short call because of the expense, so I let them know I had been bumped but would be there on the 28th. I told them I was headed to Panama City, and would be taking a bus back in plenty of time for my flight. My mother cried, and my father told me to go ahead and use the credit card, but to try to keep the expenses reasonable. By the time I hung up I was pretty depressed, but at least I had a plan. Before I could try to contact anyone in Panama City, an announcement was made and suddenly I was on my way to Florida for Christmas, with no place lined up to stay, and practically broke. I was feeling a bit melancholy, but was determined to make the best of it. So there I was, at Tyndall Air Force Base, at 11:20 pm on December 23rd. I was debating who to try first. I had several close friends nearby and I expected they'd all be home for Christmas. After a short internal debate, I had narrowed it down to two. I had always gotten along well with their entire families, and I was still in pretty regular contact with both of them. Mike lived the nearest to me in the old days. He came from a big family, with 6 siblings, including Peggy, who'd been one of my first real deep infatuations. When I had been in 9th grade she'd been a senior, and was pretty and sophisticated. My yearning for her was unrequited, but I relished the idea of seeing her again after four years. She was a college senior, and would probably be home. I knew they'd welcome me, but I was concerned it would be an inconvenience. They did not have a large house, and it was bound to be crowded, particularly with three college kids home for the holiday. On top of that who knew if they had anyone else in tow? Tommy on the other hand came from a relatively well-off family who always lived well within their means. He had an older brother, who was working in Japan and unlikely to be home, a sister, Sheri, just a year behind us in school, and two much younger siblings, who I guessed would be around 9 and 10 by now. They had a spacious house, each kid had their own room, and I wouldn't be putting anybody out if I stayed there. I'd always had a crush on Sheri, but although I'd dated her best friend, I'd never gone out with her. Getting a chance to see her again would be an extra bonus. Feeling nervous and awkward, I dialed Tommy's number from memory, and luckily got him on the first call. If I'd gotten somebody else, I would have really felt uncomfortable. Tommy's answer was unmistakable. He had a funny way of saying hello when he answered the phone, and the sound of his voice took me straight back down memory lane. "Hee-ello," he answered. "Tommy! Guess who?" I asked. I guess my voice must have been similarly recognizable, since he didn't hesitate a second. "Steve-o! What are you up to? Where're you at?" He answered eagerly. It put a smile on my face. Nice to hear a happy, upbeat voice that seemed genuinely pleased to hear from me. "Funny you should ask. It's a long story, but I'm in a bit of a bind. I'm at Tyndall, and stuck here until Christmas Day." I told him. "What happened to Chile, and Rochester?" He asked. "I was on my way home to Chile, when I lost my seat on the plane in Charleston. I couldn't get out again until the 26th, so when I saw an empty plane headed this way, I just hopped on and hoped for the best." I explained. "That's Great!" He almost shouted. "Not great that you couldn't get home, but great that you're here. You want to stay with us? You can have Greg's room, he won't be here, and I'm sure Sheri and Mom would love to see you. The place is kind of 'down' with Greg canceling his trip home at the last minute. Having you here should cheer things up a bit." He did sound enthused, and I couldn't help grinning in reply. "Don't you think you should check?" I laughed. A scream in my ear was the answer, as I heard half of a shouted conversation. "Mom! Guess Who's In Town." "No, Not Greg." "No, Go Ahead Guess." "Guess Again." "Ok, Ok - Steve." "Yeah, Steve Pelland. He's Stuck Here In Town 'Til Christmas Day." "Of Course I Told Him He Should Come Here, I'll Go Get Him." "I Will." "Yes Mom; Yes; I Won't; I Will." I was holding the phone a little away from my head, and almost missed it when he came back on. "Where should I pick you up?" He asked. "The Main Terminal, you know where that is right?" I answered. "Sure - be there in about 30 minutes. Man, this is Great!" I hung up with a big smile on my face, feeling 100% better than I had just 10 minutes earlier. I stood outside waiting for him, and about 20 minutes later the strings of Christmas lights shut off one at a time, as the place closed up for the night. It was dark and quiet, and I started to get nervous again, wondering if this had been such a good idea. I was 500 miles from my flight home and completely at the mercy of old friends. But as far as friends go, I couldn't do much better than mine, and figured at the least I wouldn't be sleeping in a lonely terminal in Charleston for two days, slowly eating my way through my meager funds. When Bob pulled up around midnight, I could see he'd gotten rid of the VW Bug he'd inherited from his mother upon turning 16, and was now driving his brother's old Two-tone Cougar. We spent a minute saying hi, and loading my gear into the trunk, and then we headed back into town, catching each other up on history. When I had first moved to Santiago, I used to write about once every couple of months, as well as call a couple of times a year. In the beginning I'd written Sheri a lot as well. She was one of the most prolific writers among my old friends, and would typically write twice to me for every one I wrote to her. Over the years, that had degenerated into holiday cards and a surprise call maybe once a year. I knew he was attending Florida State, and that Greg had graduated from Georgetown, and had moved to Japan on business. That was about it. Tommy told me all about the old gang, who was in town, who was going to what schools, what people had been up to. I told him a lot more detail about what I'd been up to. "So," he asked, "Got a girl?" "Not now. Thought I had one after the ROTC Christmas ball, but that seems to have been my mistake." I admitted. "Hard to believe. You always had someone. Every letter, every phone-call, just seems like they didn't stay the same all that long." He teased. "I don't know. I had several relationships last pretty long. Two were more than 6 months long." I argued. "Oh! Six Months!" He laughed. "How about you then," I asked in defense. "Still Erin. Almost two years now." He asked. "Shit. What does she see in you? She could do so much better." I teased. "Oh really? Like how?" "Like me!" I laughed. "Right, like that would ever happen! Don't even think about it, or you'll be sleeping in the street." He was laughing as well. "Not if I called Erin I wouldn't," I shot back. I thought it was a great comeback, but it earned me a sock in the arm. We pulled up to his house, which still looked exactly the same, and things were pretty quiet. They used the same window lights, same roof lights, same bush trimmings year after year. It was just as I remembered. Who says you can't go back? "Mom's got to work tomorrow, so I'm sure she's in bed, and you know Dave crashes early, so we better keep it down. We've got lots to do tomorrow anyway." We entered quietly and put my bag in Greg's old room. Tommy stayed and chatted for a few minutes then bid me good night, telling me to sleep in as long as I wanted, as long as it wasn't past 9:00 am, and left me to get settled. Past 9:00? Now I remembered, they'd always been an early-bird household. For me 9:00 am Was the crack of dawn. Tommy and I had breakfast at about 9:30. He was already chiding me for sleeping in and missing the whole family. We had the house to ourselves. He'd been on the phone arranging our day, and once we'd finished the pancakes, we were off to see Mike and his family. Entering Mike's house was the same as it had ever been, but more-so. People everywhere, noise, laughter, roughhousing, it was all taken in stride by Mrs. Frey. We spent a few hours visiting, and getting fed again before we could leave. Mike's older sister Peggy still looked cute to me, but not the amazing creature my memory had somehow stored away. I had to tease her about the Christmas gift she'd given me three years earlier. She'd bought me a Richard Pryor tape, thinking it was Bill Cosby. When I played it for her in my car, she exploded, calling me names and accusing me of vile intent. At the time I had felt bad, confused, angry and a host of other feelings, now thankfully we could laugh at it. When I'd been 16 I'd been somewhat in awe of her, now things were comfortable. Mike's older brother was home as well, with his live-in girlfriend who seemed awfully ill-at-ease, and must have been at least 5 years older than Dan, maybe more. That was a story I'd have to hear more about. The biggest surprise was Alice. She'd been a few years younger than us. I wasn't sure if she was 16 or 17 now, but she was a bombshell. And she was coming on to me like gangbusters. I was really nervous, with her acting all touchy-feely with her mother and Peggy there. I was suddenly glad I had chosen to stay over with Tommy. With a pretty, stacked girl that seemed so infatuated with me around, I'm afraid I might have gotten into a whole lot more trouble than I needed. When we left there Mike joined us, and it was off to see Jack and Russ. They were a year apart in age. Russ had been in our class, and we'd been friendly with him, but Jack, although a year younger was our buddy. We played on the basketball team together, and when Tommy and I formed our first band, Jack was our bassist. At the Chambers house, we once again reminisced, and had to relive our first 'gig'. We had decided to play in the school talent show. With Tommy on piano and Jack on bass, I played guitar. We had a fourth guy on drums we'd all lost contact with. We had played Elton John, Deep Purple, The Eagles, and The Beatles. We had opened with the opening riff of "Smoke on the Water", and had been a hit. We were pretty lousy, but the audience was our friends, our parents and the parents of our friends, and at the end the parents even took up a collection for us. Pretty heady stuff. We'd called ourselves Bronze Myth, and had already designed our first three album covers before we had our first birthday party gig. Jack had been tall then, and had not stopped growing; he was now 6'7" and was attending University of Florida, playing basketball. He reminded me of the time when we went on our first dates together. I had gone with Kathryn Best, easily the most lusted after girl in the whole school, who was in Jack's class a year behind me. Jack, on the other hand, had gone out with our "Valentine's Day Queen", Anne, who was in my class and almost two full years older than Jack. He was always precocious. There had been a third couple with us, Dennis and Suzanne, and Jack broke the news that Suzanne had gotten knocked up, just before I left to go overseas, and she and Dennis had gotten married. There was a huge scandal, but they stuck together, and had the baby. They lived with Suzanne's parents. Dennis was doing alright, working for Suzanne's father. While we were visiting, several friends dropped in, including the aforementioned Kathryn who lived one street over. Kathryn, the stunning brunette who had the body of a 20 year old when she was 15, and had a beautiful face with features that just slayed me. Kathryn, the very first girl I had gotten to Third Base with. She was as pretty as I remembered, and I found out she was going to be attending Mt. Holyoke the following year, which was an odd coincidence since my girlfriend from High School was a sophomore there. Going out with Kathryn, a year younger than me had been a total fiasco. We'd sat together on an out-of-town bus trip and ranked high enough in the pecking order that we got the right hand seat second from the back. These trips were our biggest dates back then. Ours was a small parochial school, and on the bus trips, the athletes, cheerleaders and student fans all rode the same bug. The 30-90 minute trips were like pep rallies on the way out, and like the back of movie theatres on the way back. There were frequent "hand-checks" and the lights would come one as our coaches would walk the aisle, but it seemed like after our wins, the checks would be a little less frequent. Our win at Pensacola was my first real 'make-out' session, as we cuddled and kissed the whole trip home. I even got a chance to play with her breast through her sweater. Less than a week later I asked her to the movies, and we sat in the back with the two other couples, probably both scared spitless and nervous as goldfish in a blender. We'd started necking, which got more and more intense, and my hands boldly went where no hands had gone before. An hour into the movie I was almost out of control, and feverish with desire, and it seemed she was willing to let me do whatever I wanted. If I'd had a little more confidence, or a little more knowledge, who knows what might have happened? As it is, I went pretty far, probably too far, and I was scared to death afterwards. She was the first girl whose flesh I'd touched underneath her clothing. I didn't call her for several days, and even avoided her at school, not knowing what to say. In short I was a total jerk. Everyone thought we should be together, she was the pretty captain of the cheerleaders, with the big boobs, and I was the Big Jock, playing all the sports, while at the same time excelling in school. She was voted "Most Popular." I was "Most Likely to Succeed." However, in this case it turned out she was "Most Slighted", and I was definitely "Most Inept." After waiting several days, amazingly patient in retrospect, she had tasked her best friend Sheri, Tommy's sister, with letting me know that she thought we shouldn't go out. Next thing you know, she was going out with some geeky looking kid, and she dated him for the rest of the school year. I'd changed schools at the end of that year, and had seen her only infrequently the following year, before moving to Santiago. Outside in the backyard, Kathryn and I walked off together and finally had a few minutes alone. "You know Kat, I don't think I ever apologized for being such an idiot, after our first date. I really am sorry." She was quiet for a while. She had a sad little look. "You know, I waited by that phone night after night, crying myself to sleep. I saw you dodging me at school and it broke my heart." "I was young and stupid. I'd never done Anything with a girl before, and could hardly even believe I was with the hottest girl in school. After all the stuff I did, God, I was so embarrassed that I'd overstepped the boundaries, and I had no idea what to say." She sat down underneath the big tree in the backyard and I sat beside her on the circular bench around it. "You could have said something to Jack maybe, or Tommy, and let them tell me. At least let me know that you liked me, or had fun. Something." She looked on the verge of tears, even 3 years later, and I felt even worse. "I know. I kept kicking myself over it. I was so angry with myself and jealous when you went out with Ricky." I admitted. "He was nice to me when I needed it." "But it seemed such an odd fit. He was a nobody; the only thing he ever did noteworthy was date you." I told her. "He lived two houses down. We'd grown up together, and when my heart was broken he picked up the pieces. He could tell something was wrong, and really made me feel a lot better." She confessed. That brought on a short period of silence. It did let me think better of Ricky, who wasn't just lucky or an opportunist. "You know, that was one of the most memorable moments in my life. Touching a girl like that for the first time. I had no idea what I should do, or what I could do, but I kept looking down the row at Dennis and Suzanne, and figured I should be able to do that too. I was in heaven; you were so amazing to be with." I told her, reaching out and taking her hand in mine. Her palm was moist. "You're telling me? You were the big 9th grader with the learner's permit and motorcycle. Big Man on Campus. The guy every girl wanted. And you wanted me. I had no idea what we should or shouldn't do on a date. I was hoping you knew." We laughed at that, remembering the intensity of those feelings. "Given a chance to do it over, I'd have camped out on your doorstep and professed my undying, eternal love the moment you walked out the door." I told her, half serious. "As I recall, you professed your love for me that evening, just before opening the top of my pants." She said with a wicked grin. I'm sure I blushed mightily. "I can't really ask forgiveness, but I really am sorry. Sorry now and sorry then. I fantasized about you for years afterwards, thinking of what could have happened if I hadn't been such a jerk. You have no idea how many of my fantasies you starred in back then." "If only you'd have let me know. Ricky was my first. It could have been you. Given half a chance, it would have been you." She had moved close and was speaking softly. "And this is my punishment. Knowing how bad I fucked up. Seeing you here, as beautiful as in my dreams, and knowing I've screwed up any chance of being with you." I placed my hand behind her head, stroking her hair. "I wouldn't say you'd screwed up Any chance, but you certainly blew that one." We were looking deeply in each other's eyes, recalling strong, painful feelings. I wanted her now, as I'd wanted her then, with a deep burning need, and I leaned forward those last two inches, and captured her lips with mine. She slid forward and melted against me, kissing me with every emotion boiling to the surface. She took my hand and placed it on her incredible chest, and I squeezed her breast, my thumb reliving that first caress of her nipple from so many years earlier. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, and then broke apart. Her eyes glistened. "I've got a boyfriend." She confessed. I nodded understanding. "If I didn't?" I reached forward pressing my index finger to her lips. "I know. I missed my chance. It's my loss." We just sat side by side a minute, in silence. "You know," she said softly, "what you did to me that night, that was part of the problem." "I know. I'm sorry if I stepped over the line." I said, even now embarrassed at the liberties I'd taken. "No, not anything wrong. What you did to me, how you made me feel. You made me cream my jeans more than once that night. It was the first time I'd ever come. I'd heard about it, but it was almost unreal. Your fingers just drove me wild. It was over a year before another guy was able to do the same." She put her hand between her legs, seemingly remembering that first night. "That makes two of us. I don't know if you knew, but I came in my pants too, and you never even touched me there. By the time I got home I was a terrible sticky mess. I snuck out and threw that underwear away before my mother could find them and ask uncomfortable questions." I told her, laughing. She gave me an odd little look, and then slid around the tree, placing its 3 foot wide trunk between us and the house. She reached out for me, and of course I followed. "Could I, I mean would you mind?" She seemed lost for words. "What? Just ask. I certainly owe you one." I told her. She didn't ask, she just started unbuckling my belt. "I always wondered, and never really had a chance to find out." With the belt open she unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. "I mean, that night, you got to find out pretty much ALL about me, but I didn't; " I lifted my hips and let her pull my pants down a short ways, and then she reached up and pulled my underwear down exposing my fully erect monument to her sexiness. "I knew it, you bastard. Look at that." I didn't have to look. I knew it pretty well. And it was certainly standing tall and making me proud. She took me in hand and stroked me up and down, which after all the discussion and reminiscing was almost enough to get me off. "I just knew it. This should have been my first." She slowly stroked me up and down, and then she leaned over and took me in her mouth for just a second, sucking me deep and then releasing me. That was it. It was too much for me, and I stood up and shot my wad a good two feet out from where we were sitting. She giggled, as she helped me through my release, then pulled my underwear up back over my still dripping cock, and wiped her hand on the front of my briefs, before helping me pull my jeans back up. "If I wasn't tied up, I'd have you paying reparations," she told me as we both stood, and she slapped my hands away from my belt and finished straightening me out herself. "Let's consider it a delayed payoff. If things don't work out for you, maybe we can try it again. Rochester isn't That far from Amherst." Little did I know what the future held in store for us, but that's a different story. We walked back to the house hand-in-hand, laughing at the folly of youth, from the wizened experience of our 18 and 19 years. She had to leave shortly after, as did we, and I kissed her goodbye at the door. Once the door was closed I heard an exclamation from behind me. I turned to Tommy who said, "Now I've seen everything." "Amen," said Jack. "What?" I asked. "After how you treated her after our first date, I was certain you were on her shit-list for life." Jack explained. "Absolutely." Tommy chimed in. "Sheri said that Kathryn fantasized about doing mean and nasty things to you for years. I mean, hell, you did use her pretty bad." "I was a dope. I did some things I'd never done before, and was so embarrassed I didn't know how to even face her. So I screwed up and avoided her. I just made my apologies and we worked things out. I think she understands that I didn't try to be mean; I was just young and stupid. I didn't know what I was doing, and regretted it for years." I told them. "Geez. I always wondered how you could pass on that, when she was so available to you. You really did fuck up, didn't you?" Tommy pointed out. "Yep, not the first time, and I'm certain not the last. But we've buried the hatchet it seems." I answered "I'm just astounded that hatchet isn't in your back." Jack added. We left just a short while after that. We had one last visit to make. Teri Branson was passing through town, and wanted to see us if she could. She was just there for the day, and none of us wanted to miss out on that chance. The summer before 10th grade, I'd practically lived at Teri's. It was football time, and we were doing twice-a-days. We'd have morning practice, then a break so we wouldn't be out all day in the noon-time Florida summer sun. After the break it was afternoon practice. Teri was at our school and I never really knew her until that summer. She lived only a block from Mike, and we had run into her one day out washing the family car. We struck up a conversation, and the rest was history. I spent every football break at her house that summer. Mike didn't play football, but I'd pick him up on the way over there, and we'd hang out. She had a pool table, and a private rec-room with a stand-up arcade game. Her mother would always bring us snacks and drinks. Teri had not been popular, and was new to the school as well. But in a period of just a few months she went from a boyish figured tom-boy, to a devastatingly beautiful teen. Her breasts seemed to almost explode outwards, and once we'd met her mom, we knew where she got it from. She lost some weight, traded glasses for contacts, grew tits, lost the braces, and suddenly this beauty was in our midst, and nobody even knew about her but us. She was our secret. Tommy was going to a different high-school from me and Mike, but we still hung together most of the summer, and we had to let him in on our secret. The closest we'd come to having anything happen was a bizarre game of spin-the-bottle underneath the pool table. Mike, Tommy, me and Teri. Just an excuse for us to take turns kissing her. Her father was being transferred again at the end of the summer. I told her I was going to have a birthday party, and that we were going to play spin-the-bottle, I had hoped she'd be there, but now she was leaving. We were all upset. Tommy suggested we play now, since she couldn't make it then, and we did. It was strange but wonderful. Two weeks later she was gone. We met Teri at the mall, our planned rendezvous. We couldn't miss her; she was the center of a lot of attention. And still gorgeous. We ran up to her and had hugs all around. "I can only stay about 20 minutes," she told us with a pout. "Damn," was all I could say. So the three of us toured the mall, observing all the changes. It had been brand new the year we had been together. We grabbed some drinks, and wandered back outside, our time almost up, and barely even caught up. "Teri, I have a confession." I told her. "I know we acted pretty much like friends, but I was crazy about you. That summer I went home every evening and dreamed of you." "Hell, we all did." Tommy admitted. "We were such idiots," she said. She reached up to my collar and pulled me down for a kiss. Teri stood maybe 5 foot 1, so I had at least a foot on her in height. Bent over I let her kiss me, and I returned it eagerly. Finally she released me. "I was so confused. One day I'd like you, and then the next day you," she said nodding around the group, "and then you. I kept wondering who was going to be my first real boyfriend. I just knew it was going to be one of you. And then it was all over." She looked up at me. "I Still dream about you sometimes." All we could do was laugh it off, and say we'd get together sometime. She was living in Phoenix now, finishing high school, and it looked like she'd be going to Stanford. It was going to be hard to ever make that commute work out, not that she didn't seem like it would be worth the effort. Then her parents drove up. We said hi to her mom (who had been a secret fantasy of mine back then) and then with a last set of hugs it was goodbye to Teri. It was getting late so we dropped Mike back off at his house, driving mostly in quiet. I imagine we were all lost in thought over the quirks of fate and what might have been. For me, it was thoughts of Kathryn and Teri, two incredible opportunities that any teen would kill for, and I'd let them slip through my fingers. We dropped Mike off, but didn't go inside. As it was we were running late, and knew that if we went in, it would be a while before we got out of there. From Mike's it was a 5 minute drive back to Tommy's, but we drove past Teri's old house, just for nostalgia's sake. At Tommy's we were running late. Dinner was going to be at 6:00 pm, and somehow we'd burned the whole day. It was 5:45 before we even walked in the door, and we both wanted to clean up before dinner. The kid's rooms were served by two separate bathrooms, one at the end of the hall, and one off of Greg's room. So I stripped down to my shorts, and went to take my shower. I hadn't expected the bathroom to be full. Sheri was in their, applying the last of her makeup. Fortunately (or unfortunately) she was dressed. When I walked in, she gave a squeal, and came over and gave me a big hug. "I can't believe you're here! You're looking good." She said, stepping back and giving me the once over. "Wow, Sheri, you look great!" was all I could say. She had always been pretty. But the difference between a 15 year old Sheri and this one was night and day. The more mature Sheri was a beautiful young woman. "Thanks," she said, "I'll be out of here in a second, and you can have the place to yourself. I'm dying to talk to you." "I'll be here all night." I joked, stepping back into the room I was using, before my underwear had to undergo any more strain. I sat on the bed waiting, and after just a minute or so she poked her head in and said "It's all yours." She left the door open and walked out the other side of the bathroom. So that was one change at least that I hadn't noticed. Back in the day, this was Greg's bathroom. But since then someone had taken out the linen closet, and the old closet door now opened into Sheri's room. In retrospect it should have been obvious. With Greg away, the bathroom had a lot of stuff in it, although very neat. If I'd opened a cabinet or drawer, I would have seen all the makeup and girl's things. I was using Sheri's bathroom. I rapidly cleaned up and dressed. I was in a bit of a hurry, wanting to still wrap a couple of small presents for my hosts. I had bought several music tapes for my sister as a Christmas present, and decided to gift Tommy with one of them. I also had a photo in a frame for my mom, and decided to make the frame a family gift. It was simple, hand-made by yours truly from apple-wood. After borrowing some paper, tape, and scissors, I was ready to join everyone else just a few minutes later. To be continued in part 2. Based on a post by Tx Tall Tales, in 2 parts, for Literotica

Twas a Perv Christmas. Christmas eve with your favorite, kinky, perverted family. (2 poems) Based on a post by Sancho Hardbottle. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Twas the night before Christmas,and all through the dwelling. Not a creature was stirring,'cept my cock, which was swelling; From walls hung portraits,setting the mood, Above the mantel hung Grandma,She posed fullly nude; Down the hall, on her bed,Coed stepsister did sit, A vibrating dildo,rubbed on her hard clit; Stepmom in panties,and I in the nude. Had just readied our loins,before getting screwed. When from outside the window,there arose such a cry, My head darted up,from stepmom’s wet thigh; Jen's eyes got so wide,as we both turned to see, Just what sort of Christmas,the visit might be; The moonbeams bounced off,the snow all so white, I blinked as I tried to,make sure of my sight, What did I see,that gave me such pause? It was the round, jolly face,of old Santa Clause! Framed in the window, red cheeks and a beard, When in through the doorway,Buxy Susan appeared; I opened the window,we pulled him within, Jenny glanced at her daughter,then said with a grin: “Santa! We're busy,You're spying, You creep! I’m riding my stepson,and you try to peep! That’s awfully spotty,for man such as you! I wonder what naughty,kinky perversions you do! Now please come on in,and join the fun, We’ll be on the nice list,when finally done!” Quick as the devil,Jen's down on her knees, Tugging his Pants off,as fast as she please, The Sled Musher looked down,his eyes wide with shock, When out of his britches,popped his massive cock, She started to suck him,with skills of a pro, And Santa exclaimed,“Sue, Your Mom's a Ho!” My stepsister laughed,as she fell to Jen’s side, She opened her mouth,took both ball's inside, Her tongue lapped and writhed,his scrotum with care, As Jen bobbed on his shaft,and came up for air, She said, “I’ve taught her well,don’t you think St. Nick? Watching her lick you,gets my pussy all slick.” They sprung to their feet,and got back in bed, “Why don’t you fuck her,while Billy gives me head?” Susan then beamed,and she squealed with delight, then spread her legs and cried,“hurry down my chimney tonight!” And taking my cue,I crawled to Jen’s bits, my tongue, ran up through it,from the crack to the slit, Santa rushed forward,his hard swollen tip, And rubbed it on Susan's,soft, shaven lips; As he pushed it inside,Susan’s ass gave a leap, He was all the way in her,rigid hard and balls deep; Watching her daughter,Jen gave a moan, My tongue pushed down firmly,her clit hard as a bone; Susan writhed on the mattress,her feet in the air, While Santa Clause thrusted,Jen gripped on my hair; At once her back arched,and her toes they did curl, My sister shouted, “Don't stop! I'm Cumming!”while I sucked Jenny's Pearl; Jen pushed my face up,my chin wet with juice, And she said, “My turn! Santa,put my twat to good use!” Her lips stuck out,from under her ass, Santa slid out of Susan,said, “Awe! There’s a good lass!” He went behind Jenny,and in her he plowed, His log hit her g-spot,she cried out aloud; Still horny myself,”Stepsis, want some more?” Got on her knees and said,“Billy, make me a whore!” Sue knelt before Jenny,I poked in her cunt, Jen groaned as I panted,and I heard Santa grunt; He pulled on Jen's hair,Mom’s face all a glow, I pounded up, Susan’s,tits bounced too and fro; She cooed as I fucked her,I smiled at her mother, “Sue, you get along well,with your stepBrother.” We're all moving faster,the bed rocked and squeaked, There's magic in the air,as we all reached our peak; Then Jen started first,a long, bellow scream, Susan came next,as I filled her with cream; With eyes all a twinkle,Saint Nick shot his load, It was a Miracle,Mom didn’t explode! I pulled out of Sue,Nick pulled out of Jen, They fell to the sheets,cunts full to the brim; They both were in giggles,together they squirmed, then straddling each other,they sucked out the sperm; Sue looked up at Nick,her eyes had a glint, Licking her lips, said,“Yum! tastes like mint.” Nick stumbled backwards,and pulled up his drawers, His face was beat red,sweat flowed from his pours; He got to the Window,about to slip out, But paused and he turned,and said with a shout: “You people are lovely,That much I will say! But tonight you're naughty,since Harold's away!” Based on a post by Sancho Hardbottle, for Lush Stories. How The Inch Stole Xmas. From The Fucks down in Fucksville. Based on a post by Sancho Hardbottle. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Every Fuck down in Fucksville liked Xmas a lot; But the Inch, who lived just north of Fucksville, did not! The Inch hated Xmas! The whole Xmas season! Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason. It could be that his testicles were hung up far too high. It could be, perhaps, that his bladder was shy. But I think that the most likely reason of all, May have been that his cock was two sizes too small. But who cares why? The guy was a schmuck, He stood there on Xmas Eve, hating the Fucks, Staring down from his lair with swollen, blue balls, At the radiantly lit windows below in their halls. For he knew that every Fuck down where he gazed, Was busy now, having their pubic hair shaved. "And they're trying on their nighties!" he snarled with a sneer, "Tomorrow is Xmas! It's practically here!" Then he growled, with his Inch fingers nervously drumming, "I must find some way to stop all those Fuckers from cumming!" For tomorrow, he knew, all the lusty studs and sluts, Would wake nice and horny. They'd all start to rut! And then! Oh, the moans! Oh, the moans! Moans! Moans! Moans! That's one thing he hated! The moans! Moans! Moans! Moans! Then the Fucks, barely legal and mature, would hump. And they'd hump! And they'd hump! And they'd hump! Hump! Hump! Hump! They would hump in their pussies, and tight little rumps. Which was something that put the Inch down in the dumps! And then the thing that he hated most would begin! Every Fuck down in Fucksville, the fat and the thin, Would lay close together, with their vibrators humming. They'd lay side-by-side. And the Fucks would start cumming! They'd cum! And they'd cum! And they'd cum! Cum! Cum! Cum! And the more the Inch thought of this Fuckville wide climax, The more he thought, "I must stop this whole thing in its tracks!" "Why, for sixty-nine years I've put up with it now!" "I must stop this Xmas from coming! But how?" Then he got an idea! A nasty idea! The Inch got a wonderful, nasty idea! "I know just what to do!" The Inch laughed in his throat. And he made a quick wide brimmed hat and a coat. And he chuckled, and clucked, "I am such a devilish Imp!" "With this coat and this hat, I look just like a Pimp!" "All I need is a hooker." The Inch looked around. But, since the Inch had no Hos, there was none to be found. Did that stop the old bastard? No! The Inch simply said, "If I can't find a woman, I'll make one instead!" So he gathered some straw, and he formed it into shape, And he planted a red wig on its head with some tape. Then he grabbed the straw woman and a few old rucksacks, And then jumped behind the wheel of his rusty old Cadillac. Then the Inch said, "Let’s go!" And the jalopy started down, Toward the homes where the Fucks lay asnooze in their town. All their windows were dark. Soft groans filled the air. The Fucks were all dreaming wet dreams without care. When he came to the first flophouse on the square. "This place will work for a start," the old Inchy Pimp hissed, And he jumped into the window, empty bags in his fist. Then he crept into the living room, on the tips of his toes, past the discarded condoms and piles of clothes. And into the parlor, the Inch gleefully strolled. In the middle of the room was a polished stripper pole. Laid out beneath it were wondrous sex toys galore. "They won’t need these!" he chuckled, as he started his chore. Then he slithered and slunk, with his heart starting to sing, Around the whole room, and he stole every plaything! Dildos! And Sybians! Anal beads! Balls! French Ticklers! Massagers! Butt plugs! And dolls! And he stuffed them in sacks. Then the Inch, the old baddie, Threw the sacks, into the trunk of his Caddy! Then he snuck to the bathroom. He took every pill! He took the ribbed condoms! All the sensual thrills! He cleaned out the bathroom of the last drop of lube. Why, that Inch left nothing but one single pube! Then he threw all the junk into the car with scorn. "And now!" growled the Inch, "I will take all the porn!" And the Inch grabbed films, dirty books and magazines, When a small voice almost made him jump out of his jeans. He turned around fast, and he saw a young Fuck! Petite Cindy-Blew You, who was naked as buck. The Inch had been caught by this 22 year-old miss, Who'd got out of bed to use the commode for a piss. She gazed at the Inch and said, "Mister Pimp, why,” "Why are you taking our Pornography? Why?" But, you know, that old Inch was such a clever old prick, He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick! "Why, my dear sweet vixen," the bogus Pimp dissembled, "This smut is terrible!” he said, with nary a tremble. "So I'm switching it out, for something much less of a bore." "I'll be back in a flash. With something much more hardcore!" And his fib fooled the minx. Then he patted her bottom, And he went to the loo, never knowing she caught him. And when Cindy-Blew You curled up under her sheet, He grabbed the last bag and chucked it in the street! Then the last thing he stole was their pole for stripping! Then he jumped out the window, practically skipping. He left nothing, no cuffs, no rope. no whips for whipping. And the one drop of lube he left was a crock, It wasn’t enough for even his tiny cock! He did the same thing to every house on every block, Leaving drops much too small for the every Fucks’ cock! There was one hour left before the Fucks started to rise, He decided that heading to his cave would be wise, The car was so stuffed with trinkets it had started to slump! With gags! And with cock rings! With clamps! And clit pumps! Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mt. Pumpit, He drove with his load to the tiptop to dump it! "Yuck yuck to the Fucks!" he was wickedly singing. "They're finding out now what the morning is bringing!" "They're just waking up! With their morning wood throbbing!" "They’ll look all around them and then they’ll start sobbing, For the Fucks down in Fucksville will see all my robbing!" "That's a noise," grinned the Inch, "That I simply must hear!" So he paused. And the Inch put his hand to his ear. And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started in low. Then it started to grow. But the sound wasn't sad! Why, this sound was climatic! It couldn't be so! But it this sound was loud and dramatic! He stared down at Fucksville! The Inch growled in disgust! Then he shook! What he saw was shocking, terrible lust! Every Fuck down in Fucksville, the thin and the fat, Was humping! Without any sex toys at that! He hadn't stopped Xmas from coming! They came! Somehow or other, they came just the same! And the Inch, as he watched them suck and blow, Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?" "It came with out vibrators! It came without smut!" "It came without lubricates, or plugs in the butt!" And he stared on for hours, and then something felt sore. Then the Inch looked down at something he hadn't before! "Holy shit! I have an erection!” the amazed Inch swore. "Maybe Xmas;perhaps;isn’t so much of a snore!" And what happened then? Well;in Fucksville they say, That the Inch’s micro cock grew five sizes that day! And as his member filled and hung low and swollen, He jumped in his ride to return all the loot he had stolen, And he gave it all back! All the gizmos, gadgets and the tidbits! And he, he himself! The Inch, came on Cindy-Blew’s tits! Based on a post by Sancho Hardbottle, for Lush Stories.

Twas a Perv Christmas. Christmas eve with your favorite, kinky, perverted family. (2 poems) Based on a post by Sancho Hardbottle. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Twas the night before Christmas,and all through the dwelling. Not a creature was stirring,'cept my cock, which was swelling; From walls hung portraits,setting the mood, Above the mantel hung Grandma,She posed fullly nude; Down the hall, on her bed,Coed stepsister did sit, A vibrating dildo,rubbed on her hard clit; Stepmom in panties,and I in the nude. Had just readied our loins,before getting screwed. When from outside the window,there arose such a cry, My head darted up,from stepmom’s wet thigh; Jen's eyes got so wide,as we both turned to see, Just what sort of Christmas,the visit might be; The moonbeams bounced off,the snow all so white, I blinked as I tried to,make sure of my sight, What did I see,that gave me such pause? It was the round, jolly face,of old Santa Clause! Framed in the window, red cheeks and a beard, When in through the doorway,Buxy Susan appeared; I opened the window,we pulled him within, Jenny glanced at her daughter,then said with a grin: “Santa! We're busy,You're spying, You creep! I’m riding my stepson,and you try to peep! That’s awfully spotty,for man such as you! I wonder what naughty,kinky perversions you do! Now please come on in,and join the fun, We’ll be on the nice list,when finally done!” Quick as the devil,Jen's down on her knees, Tugging his Pants off,as fast as she please, The Sled Musher looked down,his eyes wide with shock, When out of his britches,popped his massive cock, She started to suck him,with skills of a pro, And Santa exclaimed,“Sue, Your Mom's a Ho!” My stepsister laughed,as she fell to Jen’s side, She opened her mouth,took both ball's inside, Her tongue lapped and writhed,his scrotum with care, As Jen bobbed on his shaft,and came up for air, She said, “I’ve taught her well,don’t you think St. Nick? Watching her lick you,gets my pussy all slick.” They sprung to their feet,and got back in bed, “Why don’t you fuck her,while Billy gives me head?” Susan then beamed,and she squealed with delight, then spread her legs and cried,“hurry down my chimney tonight!” And taking my cue,I crawled to Jen’s bits, my tongue, ran up through it,from the crack to the slit, Santa rushed forward,his hard swollen tip, And rubbed it on Susan's,soft, shaven lips; As he pushed it inside,Susan’s ass gave a leap, He was all the way in her,rigid hard and balls deep; Watching her daughter,Jen gave a moan, My tongue pushed down firmly,her clit hard as a bone; Susan writhed on the mattress,her feet in the air, While Santa Clause thrusted,Jen gripped on my hair; At once her back arched,and her toes they did curl, My sister shouted, “Don't stop! I'm Cumming!”while I sucked Jenny's Pearl; Jen pushed my face up,my chin wet with juice, And she said, “My turn! Santa,put my twat to good use!” Her lips stuck out,from under her ass, Santa slid out of Susan,said, “Awe! There’s a good lass!” He went behind Jenny,and in her he plowed, His log hit her g-spot,she cried out aloud; Still horny myself,”Stepsis, want some more?” Got on her knees and said,“Billy, make me a whore!” Sue knelt before Jenny,I poked in her cunt, Jen groaned as I panted,and I heard Santa grunt; He pulled on Jen's hair,Mom’s face all a glow, I pounded up, Susan’s,tits bounced too and fro; She cooed as I fucked her,I smiled at her mother, “Sue, you get along well,with your stepBrother.” We're all moving faster,the bed rocked and squeaked, There's magic in the air,as we all reached our peak; Then Jen started first,a long, bellow scream, Susan came next,as I filled her with cream; With eyes all a twinkle,Saint Nick shot his load, It was a Miracle,Mom didn’t explode! I pulled out of Sue,Nick pulled out of Jen, They fell to the sheets,cunts full to the brim; They both were in giggles,together they squirmed, then straddling each other,they sucked out the sperm; Sue looked up at Nick,her eyes had a glint, Licking her lips, said,“Yum! tastes like mint.” Nick stumbled backwards,and pulled up his drawers, His face was beat red,sweat flowed from his pours; He got to the Window,about to slip out, But paused and he turned,and said with a shout: “You people are lovely,That much I will say! But tonight you're naughty,since Harold's away!” Based on a post by Sancho Hardbottle, for Lush Stories. How The Inch Stole Xmas. From The Fucks down in Fucksville. Based on a post by Sancho Hardbottle. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Every Fuck down in Fucksville liked Xmas a lot; But the Inch, who lived just north of Fucksville, did not! The Inch hated Xmas! The whole Xmas season! Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason. It could be that his testicles were hung up far too high. It could be, perhaps, that his bladder was shy. But I think that the most likely reason of all, May have been that his cock was two sizes too small. But who cares why? The guy was a schmuck, He stood there on Xmas Eve, hating the Fucks, Staring down from his lair with swollen, blue balls, At the radiantly lit windows below in their halls. For he knew that every Fuck down where he gazed, Was busy now, having their pubic hair shaved. "And they're trying on their nighties!" he snarled with a sneer, "Tomorrow is Xmas! It's practically here!" Then he growled, with his Inch fingers nervously drumming, "I must find some way to stop all those Fuckers from cumming!" For tomorrow, he knew, all the lusty studs and sluts, Would wake nice and horny. They'd all start to rut! And then! Oh, the moans! Oh, the moans! Moans! Moans! Moans! That's one thing he hated! The moans! Moans! Moans! Moans! Then the Fucks, barely legal and mature, would hump. And they'd hump! And they'd hump! And they'd hump! Hump! Hump! Hump! They would hump in their pussies, and tight little rumps. Which was something that put the Inch down in the dumps! And then the thing that he hated most would begin! Every Fuck down in Fucksville, the fat and the thin, Would lay close together, with their vibrators humming. They'd lay side-by-side. And the Fucks would start cumming! They'd cum! And they'd cum! And they'd cum! Cum! Cum! Cum! And the more the Inch thought of this Fuckville wide climax, The more he thought, "I must stop this whole thing in its tracks!" "Why, for sixty-nine years I've put up with it now!" "I must stop this Xmas from coming! But how?" Then he got an idea! A nasty idea! The Inch got a wonderful, nasty idea! "I know just what to do!" The Inch laughed in his throat. And he made a quick wide brimmed hat and a coat. And he chuckled, and clucked, "I am such a devilish Imp!" "With this coat and this hat, I look just like a Pimp!" "All I need is a hooker." The Inch looked around. But, since the Inch had no Hos, there was none to be found. Did that stop the old bastard? No! The Inch simply said, "If I can't find a woman, I'll make one instead!" So he gathered some straw, and he formed it into shape, And he planted a red wig on its head with some tape. Then he grabbed the straw woman and a few old rucksacks, And then jumped behind the wheel of his rusty old Cadillac. Then the Inch said, "Let’s go!" And the jalopy started down, Toward the homes where the Fucks lay asnooze in their town. All their windows were dark. Soft groans filled the air. The Fucks were all dreaming wet dreams without care. When he came to the first flophouse on the square. "This place will work for a start," the old Inchy Pimp hissed, And he jumped into the window, empty bags in his fist. Then he crept into the living room, on the tips of his toes, past the discarded condoms and piles of clothes. And into the parlor, the Inch gleefully strolled. In the middle of the room was a polished stripper pole. Laid out beneath it were wondrous sex toys galore. "They won’t need these!" he chuckled, as he started his chore. Then he slithered and slunk, with his heart starting to sing, Around the whole room, and he stole every plaything! Dildos! And Sybians! Anal beads! Balls! French Ticklers! Massagers! Butt plugs! And dolls! And he stuffed them in sacks. Then the Inch, the old baddie, Threw the sacks, into the trunk of his Caddy! Then he snuck to the bathroom. He took every pill! He took the ribbed condoms! All the sensual thrills! He cleaned out the bathroom of the last drop of lube. Why, that Inch left nothing but one single pube! Then he threw all the junk into the car with scorn. "And now!" growled the Inch, "I will take all the porn!" And the Inch grabbed films, dirty books and magazines, When a small voice almost made him jump out of his jeans. He turned around fast, and he saw a young Fuck! Petite Cindy-Blew You, who was naked as buck. The Inch had been caught by this 22 year-old miss, Who'd got out of bed to use the commode for a piss. She gazed at the Inch and said, "Mister Pimp, why,” "Why are you taking our Pornography? Why?" But, you know, that old Inch was such a clever old prick, He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick! "Why, my dear sweet vixen," the bogus Pimp dissembled, "This smut is terrible!” he said, with nary a tremble. "So I'm switching it out, for something much less of a bore." "I'll be back in a flash. With something much more hardcore!" And his fib fooled the minx. Then he patted her bottom, And he went to the loo, never knowing she caught him. And when Cindy-Blew You curled up under her sheet, He grabbed the last bag and chucked it in the street! Then the last thing he stole was their pole for stripping! Then he jumped out the window, practically skipping. He left nothing, no cuffs, no rope. no whips for whipping. And the one drop of lube he left was a crock, It wasn’t enough for even his tiny cock! He did the same thing to every house on every block, Leaving drops much too small for the every Fucks’ cock! There was one hour left before the Fucks started to rise, He decided that heading to his cave would be wise, The car was so stuffed with trinkets it had started to slump! With gags! And with cock rings! With clamps! And clit pumps! Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mt. Pumpit, He drove with his load to the tiptop to dump it! "Yuck yuck to the Fucks!" he was wickedly singing. "They're finding out now what the morning is bringing!" "They're just waking up! With their morning wood throbbing!" "They’ll look all around them and then they’ll start sobbing, For the Fucks down in Fucksville will see all my robbing!" "That's a noise," grinned the Inch, "That I simply must hear!" So he paused. And the Inch put his hand to his ear. And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started in low. Then it started to grow. But the sound wasn't sad! Why, this sound was climatic! It couldn't be so! But it this sound was loud and dramatic! He stared down at Fucksville! The Inch growled in disgust! Then he shook! What he saw was shocking, terrible lust! Every Fuck down in Fucksville, the thin and the fat, Was humping! Without any sex toys at that! He hadn't stopped Xmas from coming! They came! Somehow or other, they came just the same! And the Inch, as he watched them suck and blow, Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?" "It came with out vibrators! It came without smut!" "It came without lubricates, or plugs in the butt!" And he stared on for hours, and then something felt sore. Then the Inch looked down at something he hadn't before! "Holy shit! I have an erection!” the amazed Inch swore. "Maybe Xmas;perhaps;isn’t so much of a snore!" And what happened then? Well;in Fucksville they say, That the Inch’s micro cock grew five sizes that day! And as his member filled and hung low and swollen, He jumped in his ride to return all the loot he had stolen, And he gave it all back! All the gizmos, gadgets and the tidbits! And he, he himself! The Inch, came on Cindy-Blew’s tits! Based on a post by Sancho Hardbottle, for Lush Stories.

Elf on a Shelf: Part 3 It's hard to punish a girl as good as Honey, but he'll try. Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. In the second week of February, Honey Lane sat on a tall stool in the corner next to Zach's kitchen counter, sulking as she watched him walk slowly around the table at which sat a girl and two boys between the ages of 7 and 10. The dour silence of the spacious industrial loft suggested more that the children were completing a college entrance exam with a severe proctor, rather than completing Valentines to be distributed in class the following Monday. Honey crossed her long legs and sighed again, earning a piercing glare from Zach. She had been looking forward to helping Zach's niece and nephews with their Valentines for a couple weeks, Until she received a call from the Health Department, advising her to take precautions due to a Covid outbreak in her dumpy apartment complex. and now she was only allowed to observe the kids from five feet away. She crossed her arms and sighed again. This was the worst punishment ever. Zach continued circling the table, trying not to notice how Honey's folded arms pushed her tits together, the neckline of her fuzzy sweater dipping between them. Beneath the soft woven folds, the silken white skin of her tits probably still bore the red marks of his passion, his teeth and lips remembering the feel of her shuddering with pleasure under them only moments before his sister dropped her kids off for the afternoon. Jesus Christ; she just uncrossed and crossed her legs again, totally oblivious to the way she flashed him an upskirt every goddamn time she did it. Unless she wasn't oblivious to it; with Honey, it was hard to tell. Zach could tell that Honey was just dying to hop down from the stool, scamper over and huddle with Amarie, Fallon and Logan, as they wrote their names on the stupid little perforated papers and stuck a pencil through the pre-punched holes for a stupid commercial holiday that was supposed to celebrate love. Honey would ask them questions about their classmates, help them choose the right stupid Valentine message for the right classmate, put stickers and shit on the cards, and generally sprinkle that fairy dust that she seemed to bring to anything she did. She was a born nurturer and would make this whole thing magical for the kids, but it couldn't be helped. Honey had scared the shit out of him and she needed to learn a lesson. It would be hard, but he just had to be strong. She would not be getting out of this. Not this time. "Done!" Fallon yelled, slamming his pencil down on the table. Logan looked up from where he was working on his third personalized Valentine message, apparently trying to sign each of them in rudimentary calligraphy, and frowned, "You just put 'F' on all of them," he said in disgust, "It looks like you're giving them a bad grade; he said, shaking his head and returning to his careful scrivening. "I am. Everyone in my class is a jerk. What are these things supposed to mean, anyway? All these cards sound stupid. Like you'd really walk up to someone you like and say 'Let's swing!' I haven't asked a girl to swing in years. I'm too old for swinging," Fallon griped, looking at his Spiderman sticker cards. A snort of suppressed laughter came out of the corner of the room, followed by the sound of a body collapsing to the floor in a fit of coughing. "Fourth Fucking Place! On Your Face, Maggot!" Zach roared. In the corner, hidden among the gym equipment, Zach's friend and loyal wingman Terry promptly scrambled up into pushup position again without a word. "Thirty-two," the children said in unison, prompting Zach to put another dollar into a large money-stuffed jar labeled "Language Arts Scholarship" in the middle of the table. Amarie sighed and looked longingly over at Honey, who smiled ruefully and gave her a little wave from her stool. "Why is Miss Honey on the naughty stool, Uncle Zach?" she asked. "Cards," Zach ordered, walking over to block Amarie's view of Honey with his massive body. Amarie resignedly turned back to signing her pink and purple mermaid cards that came with scented tattoos. Zach knew Amarie would be a problem. She adored Honey, and there was very little that Amarie's big brown eyes and reddish curls couldn't talk him into. She had a tender heart that couldn't believe anyone deserved to be punished; especially not someone as soft and sweet as his Honey. Goddammit. Honey leaned forward and pressed her cheek against the tightly muscled wall of Zach's back, then reached her hand up under his t-shirt and began gently scratching him. She could feel the warmth of his skin seep through the tight cotton, and smiled as she snuggled into him, still grazing her fingernails across the skin of his back. Zach's mind flashed back to this morning when her nails were not so gentle as he pounded into her tight, wet pussy, her nails digging deep, scoring his flesh in her ecstasy. A noise of pleasure escaped him before Zach disguised it as a barking cough, and quickly stepped away until he was a safer distance away from the irresistible vixen sitting, most deservedly, on the naughty stool. Shaking his head to clear it, Zach tucked his t-shirt back into his jeans and folded his arms. "Miss Honey is on the naughty stool. I ll tell you why. The other day when I got back from the race in California where I had to drag Terry's ass across the finish line in Fourth Place Behind The Fucking Bubbleheads," Zach ranted, before pausing to collect himself and continuing. "I go over to get Miss Honey at her apartment and find her giving a fucking haircut to a naked guy in her fucking living room!" "You cheated, Miss Honey?" Fallon gasped in disbelief, at the same time Logan called out "Thirty-six!" Zach fished a five-dollar bill out of his wallet and put it into the jar, taking a one out for change. A foot stomped on the floor and he glanced up to see Honey with her hand raised in the air, outrage written on her face. He raised his hand, blocking his view of her face and the heart-melting effect it had on him, and looked away dismissively. "He was not naked! Cade had a towel on!" Honey yelled in protest. Zach strode over to her, took her chin in his hand, trying to think of something harsh and authoritative to say, but got distracted by her plump lower lip instead, remembering how it felt to suck it between his own and have her open her mouth, hungry to accept his tongue. He could smell the faint strawberry scent of her lip balm and closed his eyes, clenching his jaw in an effort not to kiss her. "No talking on the naughty stool," he murmured, his eyes dipping down to let his gaze rove over her soft tits, loosely wrapped in her fuzzy sweater. Honey smirked and kissed his palm. "Miss Honey would never cheat," Amarie said with resolute confidence. Honey nodded in agreement and thanks to the young girl, tossed her long hair over her shoulder and grinned up at Zach. "Towel or no towel, I still saw Cade's nuts when she was goin' after him with the Flowbee," Zach explained, turning from Honey as Logan opened his mouth with a look of question, "And no, 'nuts' doesn't count as a swear," Zach finished, pointing at Logan. Zach resumed his rounds of the table, continuing his story. "So, of course, I reacted like anybody else who saw another guy's nuts in his girlfriend's living room, and she has the balls to tell me not to yell because it's not good for Cade." "I think 'nuts' should be fifty-cents; 'balls' too," Logan said, thoughtfully. "They might not be swears, but they are; indelicate." Zach turned to Honey and silently mouthed the word "indelicate?" to her, a discomfited look on his face. Honey bit her lips, and another snort of laughter erupted from the corner where Terry was still in starting push-up position. "Fourth Place, Maggot! You Got Nothing To Laugh About Except The Size Of Your;" Zach roared, before pausing and breathing deeply and continuing in a calmer voice. "Anyway. Turns out, this guy Cade just got back from a tour and was dealing with some PTSD when he saw another guy's balls in his living room, too, only his girl wasn't exactly giving the other guy a haircut. So, after a bit of trouble, he was living on the streets. No job. No money. Nothing. Then, a few days ago, Honey sees him eating some of the food she left out for a stray cat," Zach said, his voice constricting as his throat tightened. He turned away from the kids to hide his face for a moment, only to meet Honey's deep blue eyes and a whole new set of problems; like not remembering anything he was talking about before. She reached up and stroked his cheek, and then he felt all the blood in his brain drain down below his belt. Fucking hell. "Miss Honey helped him, though, didn't she?" Amarie said expectantly, more as a statement than a question. "What? Yeah. Of course, she did," Zach said with exasperation, looking down into Honey's face, and trying not to laugh at her stubbornly set jaw. "Miss Honey never fucking heard of "stranger danger," or met a wreck of a person she couldn't care about. So, she takes this 'Cade' in, feeds him, gets him washed up, takes him shopping at the Salvation Army, and then takes his ass to the library to write up his fucking resume and apply for jobs, for cryin' out loud," Zach said, putting another two dollars into the jar before Logan could remind him. "When I got there, Cade was there in her living room with his nuts showing under the towel, getting a vacuum cleaner haircut, because he'd gotten a job interview with a moving company." "Yeah, but if she wasn't cheating, I don't see what she did wrong," Fallon said, applying a scented mermaid tattoo to the back of his hand. "Is this what mermaids smell like?" he wondered. "Yeah, well, just as I was cooling down, this 'Cade' starts in on me for letting Honey stay in that piece of crap apartment of hers and taking in homeless guys. Even had the nerve to ask me what woulda happened if he'd been some addict, or worse, if someone that got to thinking that she was his girlfriend?" Zach said, folding his arms and looking down at Honey, who looked quite unrepentant. "What? So, Miss Honey can't be nice because they might have problems or fall in love with her?" Amarie asked. "That's not fair! You wouldn't even like her if she wasn't happy and nice all the time because she was always worried about what would happen if the boys fall in love!" "Ugh. Love ruins everything. Maybe that's why these Valentines are all so stupid, so nobody actually falls in love; Fallon said, with an air of realization. "Yeah; and then girls can take the pencil from the card and jab anybody that wants to kiss them, too." "If the burden was placed on women to be preemptively hostile to avoid rejecting unwanted affections, it might explain the decline of romance in the modern era; and 'crap' is an excremental swear," Logan added offhandedly, not looking up from his fourth Valentine message. Zach's eyes grew wide, his jaw going slack as he looked at his oldest nephew with unnerved awe and added another dollar to the jar without argument. "They should really make these things with nunchucks; Fallon added, looking down at his Valentines, "Nobody can kiss you if you have nunchucks." "The point is, even a freaked out homeless guy knew that Miss Honey did something dangerous that nobody should ever do! You don't just grab strangers off the street and take them into your homes because there's a lot of crazies out there that will mess you up for no reason at all!" Zach ranted at the kids. A stomp from the corner made Zach turn back to where Honey waved her hand insistently in the air, her sweater pulling up and exposing a narrow bit of skin at her waist. The skin was pale and beautiful, like the rest of her, except where there was a slight bruise where his fingers had gripped her tightly as he pounded into her from behind in a haze of animalistic lust, only a few hours ago. "Yes?" he asked hoarsely, a dew of sweat breaking out over the back of his neck. Honey cleared her throat, "Okay; say someone threatened to kill you and then scared you to death for a whole year by following you around; and then one day you wake up at their house all beaten up and they tell you that they're going to keep you there and take care of you until you're better. Should you give them a chance, or just phone an Uber and get the heck out of there?" Honey asked, putting her hands on her hips. A peal of laughter rose out of the corner where Terry was, and Zach stomped his foot, ending it quickly. "I don't know. That person sounds scary, Miss Honey; Amarie said, her large eyes concerned. "That's just insane. That's like that movie where this crazy lady kidnapped this guy and makes him write books for her and then she smashed his legs with a sledgehammer when;" "Who the fuck is letting you watch 'Misery,' Fallon?" Zach roared. "YouTube," Fallon said, shrugging. "Jesus Fucking Christ; Zach said, waving down Logan's hand and stuffing more bills into the jar, then walked back to where Honey sat with a smirk on her face. Glaring down at her, he crossed his massive arms, and she crossed her legs again, squirming slightly on her stool. "Maggot, come watch the kids," he barked as Terry collapsed on the floor with a relieved sigh. "I wanna talk to you in the other room," he said, gripping Honey by the back of her neck and steering her up the stairs as she tried to control her giggles. "But there isn't another room; it's all just one big room. Even your bedroom is just a big shelf;" Honey began, until Zach steered her into the bathroom and locked the door. "Hey kids, what do you say we turn this into a dance party!" Terry yelled, and loud music quickly started blasting outside the bathroom door. "Did they just fucking compare me to Annie Bates?" Zach asked as Honey dropped to her knees, unzipped his jeans and took out his painfully excited erection. "Umm huh," Honey said, hungrily filling her mouth with his hard cock, as his hand gripped the back of her head. Zach's breath hitched as she began rubbing her tongue on the bottom of his mushroom head, clutching his flexing thighs. Groaning, he thrust back and forth slowly, watching his cock slide in and out of her wet lips. "Just for that, you're swallowing my load this time," Zach growled, gripping her hair tighter and thrusting deeper. Honey just wrinkled her nose and relaxed her throat, letting him plunge and withdraw, clenching his jaw, loving the noises he made as his excitement grew beyond his control. With a strangled moan, he thrust deep and watched her eyes widen when he swelled and throbbed down her throat, until he slowly pulled out and spilled the last hot pulses on her tongue. Honey's eyes glowed as she took him once more into her mouth and slowly slid back, cleaning him with her tongue, until the head of his cock slowly emerged from her wet lips and received a sweet kiss on the tip. He shook his head in amazement and lifted her up in his arms, overwhelmed again at the miracle of having her there with him, when there were so many ways that everything that had happened between them could have gone wrong. Still breathing raggedly, he bent down and kissed her, her eager and innocent passion for him touching him more deeply than he cared to admit. How in the hell had he managed to get this girl? Zach lifted her up and set her bottom on the bathroom countertop and stripped her sweater over her head, bending and going after her neck first. He loved the way she shivered when she felt his lips and teeth drag across the smooth skin, the way she completely lost herself to him. She was already panting those soft sighs against the top of his head when he freed her tits and took them in his mouth, and then he chuckled when she jumped at the sensation of it. God, he hoped she never changed. Diving in, he devoured her soft pale flesh, her rosy nipples tightening under his busy tongue. He reached down, pushed her skirt up, and moved the wet gusset of her panties aside. He laughed again, feeling the abundant slippery nectar between his fingers, leaving no doubt that she wanted him just as much as he did her. He wanted to taste her, to feel her hips rise up under his mouth, begging him for more, but he knew Honey could never stay quiet enough, even with Terry blasting a dance mix. Lifting his head from her tits, he returned to her mouth, her nose, her cheeks; God, he couldn't get enough of her. "Look at me," he said in a rough whisper, smiling when Honey's eyes opened obediently, seeking him through her haze of need. She bit her lips and whimpered when his fingers found her clit. "Don't you come until I say," he rasped, toggling her bud expertly. Honey moaned and wound her legs around him, pulling him closer, her back arching in restrained pleasure. "Umm; I can't do it; please; please; she begged, crying softly in loss when he slowed his ministrations, "No; she whimpered. "Don't you want to come on my cock, baby girl?" he said, finding his mark and sliding home into her warm welcome. "Now, come; he said, kissing her softly and pulling her hips to him as he thrust deep. "Ah;" Honey's cry was quickly contained by Zach's hand covering her mouth, his other hand holding her steady as he thrust into her and felt her shaking and squeezing around him as she came. If he hadn't just released in her mouth, there was no way he could resist filling her full of his cum again now. Instead, he just watched Honey's eyes roll back as she clung to him, letting her orgasm take her away until it left her weak and pliable in his arms. He held her against him, slowly moving inside her, waiting for her to recover. Always before, it had been a relentless push for the intense frenzied moment, almost blind to whatever person he was with, but with Honey that was all on its head. She was the experience, for him. Seeing her discover, taste, and feel was everything he wanted. He didn't want to feel a surge ripping through him if she wasn't there, too. It wasn't real; wasn't complete if she wasn't there with him. Fuck; he was gone for this girl. "There she is; he murmured when he saw her eyes clear and smiling into his again. Relieved, he thrust faster, joining their bodies together with more force, now that she was able to be present to it. "There's my girl; he said, smiling and kissing her again. "Zach; she said, smiling back at him for no reason other than thinking he was something wonderful. Looking at her, he started shaking his head, "God, Honey; I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, it scared the fuck out of me; thinking what could've happened to you; but Amarie's right. I couldn't stand it if you were any other way," Zach rasped, lifting her off the counter just to hold her closer to him. Honey wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging to him as he kissed her desperately, plunging into her again and again. "Promise me; promise me you'll never change; he panted, lifting her and pressing her against the wall as his need grew. "Oh Zach; it's coming; uh; uh; uh; uh;" Honey's squeals were again silenced, this time by Zach's lips. Thrusting with joyous abandon, Zach filled her again and again, pushing into her body, his release tearing through him, made complete only by her embrace, pouring into her his need, his heart, his everything; because she was the only one he wanted to have it. A short while later, Zach and Honey slunk out of the bathroom, carefully primped and looking like nothing at all had happened. They needn't have bothered, though, because the children were transfixed with a story Terry was telling, with his foot on the table and his pants leg pulled up to show a small wound on his ankle. "And I'm screaming bloody murder, of course, because when something in the desert bites you, in your head it's always a rattlesnake, right?" he asked, to the unanimous agreement of the three children. "Well, then your Uncle Zach doesn't even miss a beat and he just picks me up, throws me over his shoulder and continues on the race like nothing happened!" "Whoa! He's really strong! You're like 500 pounds or something!" Fallon exclaimed. "Why didn't he just call for help?" Logan asked, frowning. "No coverage. This race was the middle of nowhere; and Zach figured I'd get the anti-venom faster if he brought me with him, not to mention all the things that woulda crawled up to bite me all alone out there in the desert. So, like a hero, your uncle carried me more than three miles through the desert and dumped me down only after he'd crossed the finish line," Terry said, nodding. "And what's a 'bubblehead?'" Amarie asked. "Well, you see, sweetheart, a 'bubblehead' is;" "A bubblehead is someone who works on a submarine where there's nowhere good to practice running for a race; and who give you no end of shit when you fucking come in fourth place after them, carrying an idiot with a fucking kangaroo rat bite on his goddamn ankle! Back on your face, Maggot!" Zach roared, "Fallon, go sit on Uncle Terry's back, over there," Zach said, pointing to the corner where Terry was getting back into pushup position, and then he took out his wallet and dropped the entire thing into the Language Arts Scholarship jar. "All right, kids, I'm gonna tell you the story the right way, now; Released from the naughty stool, Honey happily buzzed around the apartment, making cupcakes with Amarie, giving pointers to Logan who had decided to fold each of his Valentines into a different origami animal, and bringing water to the profusely sweating Terry, over Zach's obscene objections. At the end of the day, after the kids and Terry had gone home, Honey and Zach had nearly fallen asleep on the sofa when a knock at the door jerked them back awake. Zach seemed to expect it, though, and winked at Honey before getting up and going to the door. "Where do you want it?" the visitor's familiar voice asked, though their face was obscured by a large cardboard box. "Yeah, put them in the storage area, through there; we'll go through it all later," Zach said, pointing out the way to a uniformed Cade. "Cade! You got the job! That's great!" Honey squealed. "Yeah, well it's just moving stuff around, but I can make something of it," Cade called to her over his shoulder as he carried the box to the area Zach had specified. "And what is all this? Are you letting him stay with you until he's got a place of his own?" Honey asked Zach, her eyes shining as she wrapped her arms around him. "Not exactly. Cade's staying at your place. Actually, it's his place, now. This is your place. That's your stuff he's moving in here," Zach explained. "Wait, what? You're moving me out of my apartment?" Honey asked, getting up and looking into the boxes Cade was moving in. "It's a shitty apartment. My foot went through the floor," Zach said in disgust, walking over and enjoying the view as Honey bent over and tried to pull something out of the bottom of one of the larger boxes. "That's because you stepped on one of the soft spots!" Honey's voice said, muffled by the cardboard. "If you stayed to the path I showed you, it wouldn't have; wait a minute, you just gave my apartment to Cade? What am I going to tell my landlord?" Honey said, dropping whatever it was she was trying to lift out of the box. "I don't think the guy who owns your building's gonna mind; Zach said, scratching his chin and looking around the room with a slight smile. "Of course, he's going to mind! He minds everything! Unless it has to do with a toilet that looks like it's sinking through the floor, he; wait a minute; Zach, did you just buy my apartment building?" Honey asked, pulling her head out of the box and frowning at him. "It was really cheap. Saved them the cost of condemning it, really," Zach said with a shrug, taking her hand and pulling her against him. "I'll have Terry and Cade fix it up, rent it out. Maybe find some more guys that need a break; Cade's got some contacts at the homeless vets place." "What, so Cade's one of your guys now, too? Like Terry? I was going to make Cade my Terry! You took my Terry?" Honey asked. "Well, it's not like you knew what to with him, anymore. I have Cade training with us for next year's race, too. I'll make him carry Terry when he gets a hangnail or some other damn thing," Zach said. "Took my apartment; actually my whole apartment building; and you took my Terry. Didn't even ask. I can't believe this," Honey grumbled. "Just so you know, one of these days, I'm gonna need you to marry me and have some babies, too. Good ones, okay? None of those 'well, maybe they'll grow out of it' babies," Zach said. Honey bit her lips like she was hiding a smile and crossed her arms, "That's not how you ask someone to marry you; she said, trying to sound more upset than she felt. "I wasn't asking. Now, was I?" Zach said, lifting her over his shoulder and giving her bottom a spank before carrying her back to the living room. "Do you remember that time I slapped you and called you an 'overbearing ass?' This; Honey said, gesturing to their entire situation, "This is what I was talking about." "Hmm," Zach said, putting her down on her feet, then stretching back on the sofa, making a space for her under his arm, as he turned on the TV. Honey huffed in disgust, but curled up against him anyway, taking the remote and turning it to a movie she liked, just to make a point. Zach only smiled, pulling her closer with his arm. "That apartment was mine; she mumbled, the warm rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his enormous heart already lulling her to sleep. Zach smiled down at Honey, stroking a lock of hair away from her face, grateful and relieved that she hadn't put up more of a fuss. Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head, "Yeah, well; so am I. Happy Valentine's." Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Hospitality For Santa A gullible girl finds a Christmas Night Visitor. Based on a post by tomthumper. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. It was the night before Christmas when Betty Boots was awakened from her wet dream of big dripping candy canes; by a thump, and then a clunk from her apartment's living room. Her big blue eyes popped open as she listened to a rustling, then a man's voice; cursing? Excited, Betty slipped out of bed and crept towards the living room, the cool night air raising goose bumps all over her voluptuous body. The red frilly negligee she wore was frightfully thin, but Betty didn't mind the cold. She was convinced she was going to catch Santa Claus! Eight years ago, when she was just eighteen, she had hidden behind the couch as Santa put presents under the Christmas tree at her parent's home. She'd just returned from college, after semester finals. But even when she was an elementary lass, friends had tried to convince her that Santa wasn't real. But Betty was a special girl. She really, really loved Santa. Eight years ago, as Santa slipped the last present under the tree that night, her mother had come out of the bedroom wearing only a pair of white stockings, stiletto heels, and hair ribbon; and gave Santa a very friendly hug. In return, Santa gave Betty's mum a very sexy workout that night. Betty got the gift of a very sexy education. Unfortunately, the next day when young Betty's salesman Dad called from the airport, about to board his rescheduled flight home; Betty had told him all about Santa's exciting visit. Dad had gotten very upset and yelled at Betty's mum. He hung up and they never saw him again. Betty's mum was angry, and threw Betty out of the house for good. From then on Betty had to go back to college, but since the dorms were vacated til past new years, she had to turn to some fraternities, who were always happy to help the plucky, busty, blonde beauty. They were eager to trade boarding for services. But it's 8 years later. Sneaking towards her apartment living room, Betty was very excited. It was Christmas and Santa had come to visit her! She wasn't angry about Santa causing her parents to split or her abandonment. She had never connected the events. No, Betty was as happy and excited as a particularly naïve schoolgirl. Santa was in her living room! She tried not to skip with glee, as she slipped into the unlit room. Santa was bent over the entertainment center. Perhaps, Betty thought, he was leaving a holiday music CD in her stereo. She hoped it was someone sexy and sophisticated like Britney Spears or Katy Perry. Betty flushed. Santa had sure slimmed down since the last time. He had the firmest butt that showed off very well indeed, in his tight blue jeans. He must have started going to the gym because his muscles bulged beneath his black sweater. He still wore a red Santa hat, which made sense since he was Santa. "Oh; Santa," she said, half out of happiness to find him bringing her presents, and half because; Wow! He was really built. Santa was startled and turned around. Betty was confused. Instead of being old with a white beard, he was young, with chiseled features, short spiky black hair and green vigorous eyes. But then again, Betty thought, Santa was a magical man. Perhaps this was how he appeared to lonely young women who were positively bursting out of their lacy intimates, like her mom had done, some 8 years earlier? "I'm sorry Santa," said Betty in a bashful voice, after flicking on a lamp. Santa was looking very nervous. He had dropped his bag of presents with a clank; and if she didn't know better, she would have said he was about to make a break for it. "I'm sorry Santa," she repeated, edging over to him. "I know I should be tucked in bed like a good girl. But I got so very excited when I heard you delivering my presents." Santa's mouth dropped open, and it took him a moment to say anything. "Santa?" he finally managed to say, in a marvelously deep voice. "You can't fool me, Santa," Betty said proudly, sticking out her magnificent chest. "I'm smart. You're disguising yourself! You may not look like Saint Nick, but who else would be bringing me presents tonight? The Easter Bunny?" "I; I guess you caught me," Santa said, googling at Betty's buxom tits. The fabric of her red negligee was light and sheer, almost transparent. She obviously wasn't wearing a bra and her sizable jugs jostled together amiably. Santa could even catch the hint of her tit's dark areolas. "Well," he gulped. "I should go." He reached to pick up his sack. "Lots of boys and girls to visit." "Oh no, Santa!" Betty exclaimed, clutching him to her bosom. "Please don't go yet! Have some milk and cookies. Mama taught me to be extra hospitable, and be good to you." Santa got a strange look on his face as the buxom blonde rubbed up and down him in her small frilly teddy. Without her noticing, he flipped up the back of her nightie. He broke into a grin. This girl had gone to bed without any panties! "Okay," he said. "I'll stay a bit." He settled down in a brown comfy chair and let Betty serve him his milk and cookies. "Any beer?" Betty got Santa a tall cool one, which he guzzled, in one swig. "Ah!" He plopped the bottle down and looked up at Betty, who was hovering over his extended leg. Facing away, she was removing his boots for a foot massage, and accidentally giving him a preview of her equally blonde nether locks as well. He stretched and then grabbed her round the waist and set her on his lap. Then he asked with a grin. "So what do you want for Christmas, little girl?" "I thought you'd never ask, Santa!" exclaimed Betty. She giggled as she slid further up on his lap, making him go Ooof! and slip his hand up the back of her nightie; all the way up to her shoulder blades. Betty was so excited, she paid no attention to Santa's paw. "But you have to ask me the other question first, Santa," demanded Betty, bouncing on Santa's lap. "Holy" Santa caught himself just in time as Betty gave his lap the bouncing of its life. "What question honey?" "The naughty or nice question!" Betty said impatiently. "What's wrong with you, Santa?" Santa was breathing the sweet scent of Betty's hair; so had to shake his head to answer the question. "Oh, yes! Naughty or nice. Sorry, my girlfriend; I mean, Mrs. Claus left me for one of the elves." He eased his hand lower until it rested on her full round ass. Man, this chick was all curves! "That's awful, Santa!" said Betty, opening wide her full round lips around the 'aw' in awful. "Yes. I walked in on them," said Santa. "Have you ever seen an elf with a twelve inch dick?" "Not on an elf." Betty shuddered. "But twelve inches is a lot for any gal to take, let me tell you." She blushed, realizing that Santa was studying her closely. "Hmm, So you know exactly how she felt," he said, giving her bottom a squeeze. Betty giggled and wiggled. "So Santa has been all alone since June, and what with my work; I don't get to meet cute little scamps like you, except for around Christmas." "Poor Santa!" cried Betty. "So there's been no one to; relieve all the pressure?" Betty grinned as her hand involuntarily slid over the hump between his legs.. Santa might not be twelve inches, but she was pretty sure he was pushing eight or nine, judging from what a bumpy lap she was sitting on. "Yes, it's just been me and the reindeer," said Santa. "Oh, Santa," Betty said in a shocked voice. "You haven't been using Cupid or Comet that way, have you?" "What way is that?" asked Santa, running his finger down between her soft ass cheeks. "You know." Betty squirmed. "Like when a woman bends over and a man takes his; candy cane and slides it into her stocking." "Oh, reindeer-style," Santa drawled. "No, I've never gotten that desperate." He locked Betty in his gaze. "What about you? Have you been a good girl this year? I hope you haven't been getting your stocking stuffed, too much. Though you're very, very stuff-able." "Well..." Betty looked very guilty. "I've been, pretty good?" "Betty," Santa said sternly. "Remember who you are talking to." Betty tugged at the neck of Santa's sweater. "Well, I honestly didn't know about my mistletoe print dress, until Mr. Stevenson and Mr. Johnson took me into the coat room, and explained," she said in a defensive tone. "It was lucky Mr. Johnson told me to take it off, cause while they were performing the traditional punishment, Mr. Stevenson splattered all over me with his big dick! Santa's eyes widened as he imagined the banging of Betty Boots in the coat closet. His pants were getting tighter and tighter, nuzzling Betty's sexy bottom. "I got pretty tipsy as well," admitted Betty. "But I did a good deed! I gave Tim, the office boy, a hand job cause of his cock cancer." "Cock cancer?" "Yes," said Betty, biting her lip trying to remember. "He was afraid he might have cock cancer, and the only way to know was to; you know, try to cum. But he didn't want to find out all alone. So I;" Betty grinned sheepishly. "I gave him a hand job." "And?" asked Santa, shifting with exquisite discomfort. "Oh, he came really, really well!" Betty giggled. "I decided to really make sure he was A okay, so I sucked on him till he came again." Betty licked her full lips. "He tasted very healthy!" She glanced at Santa nervously. "I like tasting cocks. Is that naughty?" "Ho Ho! No!" Santa bounced Betty on his knee, watching her tits jiggle as her ass pounded his bulge. "Except Santa isn't sure if you're not just a little naughty," he said. "The last time I looked at you closely, was when you were still in high school." He wiggled the end of her button nose. "You were in the shower getting all soapy. My how you've sprouted since then!" "In the shower?" Betty squeaked. "Oh gosh, I wasn't using the shower head was I? You know, the naughty way." When Santa nodded, Betty turned bright red. "But, but I have to, cause if I don't, I just can't concentrate on anything. Even now." Betty was crossing and uncrossing her legs and nuzzling against Santa's broad chest. "There, there," said Santa, giving Betty's bottom a comforting pat. "I know a vigorous girl like you needs to let off steam if she's going to try and be nice." Betty calmed down and rested her head on Santa's shoulder. "I decided I should visit you tonight and have a good look at you, because I know how hard you try to be a good girl," he explained. "Sometimes Santa needs to really examine the borderline naughty girls. Now slip off that nightie and let's get started." Betty's eyes widened, and she sat up straight on Santa's lap. "You want to see me naked?" she asked, her voice a little shocked. "Yes," wheedled Santa. "That way I can be really sure if you are naughty or nice. You want your presents, don't you?" "I do! I do!" exclaimed Betty. "I guess it's okay, since it's you, Santa." Betty amiably reached down and took hold of the hem of her fuzzy red negligee. "Now that's the first sign of a good girl!" Santa helped Betty slip the garment over her head, and had her hold her arms up in the air as he feasted his eyes on Betty's supple body. With her perfect complexion and the lotion she rubbed all over herself, by her open window each night, she was good enough to eat. Santa groaned as his eyes unsuccessfully tried to take in Betty's firm melons. Around each nipple was a large chocolate areola, like the ring around a particularly high scoring bulls-eye. "What's the matter, Santa Claus?" asked Betty, putting her arms around him. "You seemed bothered." "Oh, it's nothing," he said, pulling Betty's warm, curvy body closer. "It is just that Mrs. Claus has nice firm tits like yours. I loved to suck on her nipples. They were so tasty." Santa's voice was heavy with sadness. After a moment of silent considering, Betty spoke up in a kindly voice. "You could suck my nipples, if you'd like. I mean, I know it wouldn't be the same as Mrs. Claus, but maybe it would help." She squirmed with delight. She was proud of her tits and having her nipples sucked made her all squishy. "If you're sure you don't mind," said Santa quickly, taking her knockers in his large hands and gently squeezing them. How plump they were! Betty shook her head, a happy half grin lighting up her face. "Thank you very much." Santa gently took the nearest nipple into his mouth and began to suck. Betty's nipples had hardened at the mere idea of Santa having a go; and each was nearly an inch long. Santa closed his eyes as he began to draw on the tasty teat. Betty moaned and rubbed herself on his lap, pushing her breasts into his face. God, she loved to be sucked! Her pussy was getting drippy with delight. "Oh, Santa!" she gasped. "You're so lumpy! What do you have in your pants?" Betty swiveled so she straddled Santa and could better rub up and down his lap. Her pussy lips had spread apart easily to nestle on the rise of his jeans. "I'm sorry, my breasty beauty," said Santa, nosing his way between Betty's heaving knockers. "It's been so long since I felt the touch of a woman. I've even started letting young women sit on my lap. "In Switzerland this Inga in a Heidi skirt hopped up, popped the buttons on my pants and pulled out my stiff todger. She was a horny girl who loved to bounce up and down." Santa gripped Betty's hips and grinded her as he spoke. "Damned if she didn't wrap her pussy lips right around me! And this was all in a crowded mall. She batted her eyes and waved to her friends. Her cunt muscles rippled up and down me as she asked for a pretty pair of shoes for Christmas. The she leaned in and whispered: "Oh Sinterklaas, I want you to use your big cock to fill up my belly!" Then in a louder voice she said, "Oh yah! Bounce me on your knee, yah!" And she rode my cock, surrounded by my elves, mummies and daddies, their children; and also her lewd little girlfriends, until I erupted into her. The last time I saw her, she indeed did have a big belly, and tits almost as big as these." He squeezed Betty's boobs together and sucked each nipple with a long hard pull at the end. "What a saucy girl! And how selfish not to consider your feelings," said Betty, pulling off Santa's cap and putting it on. "I think it is high time someone be your Santa. Or," she grinned. "Be your Ms. Santa!" She stripped off Santa's sweater and marveled at the sculpted bronze muscles underneath. Playfully, she tugged on his nipples. "What nice buttons you have Santa!" Then she whispered naughty things in his ear. "You want to ride the boobie train, Santa? You want to check out my caboose? I bet you could make me blow the whistle, Santa." "Get some steam going, baby!" He slapped her firm round bottom. "Run to your bedroom and Santa will follow with a big candy cane for his special special girl." So Betty ran, her boobs bouncing, giggling lustily, and Santa followed, dropping his pants and letting his cock wave in the air. Betty tripped on a pair of high-heeled boots and fell face down on her bed, her boobs splayed out on either side of her. Before she could move, Santa caught up, raised her bottom and started sliding his turgid cock between her plump ass cheeks. "Santa!" laughed Betty. "What a naughty boy you are!" "What a wet girl you are!" Santa spread Betty's legs and dipped his fingers into her sodden snatch. "Oh, Santa," groaned Betty. "Just how I like my ho's," chuckled Santa. He withdrew his fingers and gripped his reddened rocket. "Here comes Santa Claus! Right down Betty's cunny lane!" He fed his cock into Betty's pussy, reindeer style. "Oh, Santa!" Betty lost her balance and ended up with her head buried in pillows and stuffed animals. "Ho, Ho, Ho!" moaned Santa, his cock buried in the pussy of this beautiful woman's body. Her round toned ass was up in the air, her boobs rocking with each thrust, her empty head was lost under the pillows. "Mumfer!" Betty tried to say, flailing her arms. "Oh yes! You hot bitch!" cried Santa, battering her bottom with the pent up lust of the last six months. All he wanted was release and the liquid snugness of this beauty's snatch on his red-hot cock. That she was temporarily headless just made him more animal, more Satan than Santa. "Ah, mumph!" went Betty as Santa's dick stretched her wet pussy. She tried to pull her head from the pillows but Santa was ramming her so hard all she could do was be ridden by him like an extremely busty fuck doll. He was fucking her so fast and the air was so hot and close under the pillows, teddy bears, and her tickle-me-Elmo. She felt like the naughtiest fuck doll you might see advertised at the back of a porno rag. He was just using her to sate his big bulging cock. His swelling mushroom head rubbed her walls. She was going to cum, but she felt so dizzy, so light. "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ," grunted Santa, working his dick up into a white foam of her cunt cream. The sucking and slurping noises from Betty's cunt echoed off the wall as her boobs rocked back and forth on the bed. Her head was still out of sight under the bedding. "I'm gonna fill this ass!" Santa declared and slapped a red handprint across it. Then the pussy, for Santa had forgotten poor suffocating Betty, suddenly tightened and he found real resistance and purchase for his cock. The cunt dragged on his dick as he slid out, and was slow to give way as he shoved in. "Oh yes! You wonderful poon tang," he said, digging in with his dick, feeling every inch as he plowed. "That's, That's it," he groaned. And as he plunged deep; the pussy convulsed around him; giving him a series of rapid squeezes. "Hmm, ah." came the muffled cry of orgasm from under the pillows. "Oh, what a fucking tremendous naughty girl!" Santa's cock exploded and shot ropes of cum into Betty's twitching snatch. He held her weighty bottom up, and filled her up like a fuel tank on a big rig. Santa gasped and let Betty's body fall to the bed, his gleaming, still-hard cock, slipping from her pussy. Her snatch twinkled from between her golden ass cheeks. On either side of her small and finely muscled back, her boobs spread out like overfilled water balloons. Her head was still under the pillows and she wasn't moving at all. Was she even breathing? "Betty?" His cock twitched and spurted cum residual over her bottom and the small of her back. Betty didn't move at all. "Oh, fuck!" He grabbed her leg and shook it. Nothing. "Shit," he muttered. "Stealing is one thing. Pretending to be Santa, who cares? But murder!" Santa Claus, a.k.a. Sam Clay; burglar, jumped onto the bed and pulled the pillows and teddy bears from Betty Boots' blonde heat. He flipped her over, her jugs sloshing from side to side until finally coming to a quivering halt. Her eyes were closed and her plump red lips hung open. Sam had been merrily breaking into the less secure apartments of the complex, loading up on Christmas presents when he slipped into Betty's apartment through the unlocked balcony door. Who knew Christmas shopping could be so much horny fun? Or turn so wrong? "Please don't be dead," pleaded Sam. "You're such a fine fuck!" He rested his ear between her tits and held his breath. For a moment he could hear nothing over the pounding of his own heart. But then, then there was a soft and steady echoing in that wonderful chest of hers. He sat back in the bed and sighed with relief. After a moment, Betty stretched without waking up, turned on her side towards Sam; and rested her tousled blonde head on his lap. She smacked her lips and sighed. Sam had been worrying about brain damage. How many brain cells did this girl have to spare? But all worries left his mind when she put her head on his leg. "Hmm! Maybe she needs cock-to-mouth resuscitation!" he said, his dick starting to stiffen. Stroking himself luxuriously, he put his tip up to her mouth. At first she furrowed her brow and refused him, but he persisted, rubbing the tip with its bead of pre-cum over her lips until she licked them. After that she relaxed completely and let him slip his member into her mouth. First his head went in and she was eagerly sucking after a few mewls. "Oh yes, baby," he groaned as her tongue explored his cock-head, lapping the underside. "Santa's got the tasty candy-cane for you." He stroked her head, gently applying pressure on the back of her head, so soon she was bobbing her head up and down on his dick. "What a hungry mouth you have," he moaned as she sucked hungrily on him, her hair tickling his abs and her nipples brushing his thighs. Betty's eyelids fluttered open and then became very wide as she realized that she was orally pleasuring Santa's very big, very bulging dick. "Umm; Hmm! Slurp! Slurp! Oh, Santa Claus, you made me cum so hard I passed out!" Betty wrapped her hands around Sam's cock and pumped him as she talked. "I am sorry Santa, no one has fucked my brains out like that, ever!" "That's okay, Betty," Sam grunted, watching the tip of his dick disappear between Betty's boobs. "Except Santa still has this raging hard-on." "I'm sorry Santa," Betty said, realizing she was covered in a layer of hardening cum. "I'm being so selfish when I'm supposed to be giving." She climbed up Sam's prone body, took hold of his pole and slid her gorgeously tight pussy all the way down him, right to the hilt. She swayed like a bronco rider on top of him, moaning. "Oh Santa, such a big gift on Christmas!" She began to slowly slide herself up and down him. Sam lay back and watched the blonde beauty ride him, groaning as she moaned, squeezing her knockers, and urging her on. "Oh shit! You're going to be at the very top of my nice list for this," he said as she picked up her pace and began to gallop. Her boobs flew high into the air and then dropped onto her chest with fleshy thuds over and over again. Faster and faster she fucked. Her pussy was tingling every nerve of his dick until he could no longer stand it. "Jingle Boobs! Jingle Boobs," he gasped. "Jingle all the... oh god, oh god... Jingle All the Way!" And his cock gunned shot after shot into her snug little snatch. "Oh Santa. Oh Santa! Fill me up with your sticky snow!" Betty rocked her pussy furiously over his dick. "Oh, oh, Santa! Santa! Santa!" She was really loud now. She raised her arms in the air and her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. "Merry Christmas, Santa!" And she came, doing little half jerky gasps over his pulsing dick. "Merry" She bounced. "Christmas" She undulated. "Santa!" She jiggled up and down furiously for a glorious moment, her knockers slapping her chest and then her chin stunningly. Finally she fell beside Sam gasping. At that point Sam thought it was over, but he didn't realize what a trooper Betty Boots was. She slithered down to his lap and slipped his still pulsing dick into her mouth. Slowly and thoroughly she milked the last of his cum and licked his balls clean. Sam looked up to the heavens in bliss. When all of this was finished he looked down. Betty was curled up beside him asleep, a naughty grin on her face. The next morning Betty was delighted to find two presents from Santa under her two-foot plastic tree. Santa must have been a little too happy from Betty boinking because one had a label to Lori and the other one was addressed to Mabel. The Lori present was a tiny white crop top with Pretty ink-stamped across the chest. Betty blushed, thinking of what kind of attention she would get wearing a top better suited to a flat-chested twelve-year-old. The Mabel present was a black three-foot massage wand, but Betty soon found another very naughty use for her present. She was sure Santa would approve. It was the best Christmas ever!  Based on a post by tomthumper, for Literotica.

Elf on a Shelf: Part 3 It's hard to punish a girl as good as Honey, but he'll try. Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. In the second week of February, Honey Lane sat on a tall stool in the corner next to Zach's kitchen counter, sulking as she watched him walk slowly around the table at which sat a girl and two boys between the ages of 7 and 10. The dour silence of the spacious industrial loft suggested more that the children were completing a college entrance exam with a severe proctor, rather than completing Valentines to be distributed in class the following Monday. Honey crossed her long legs and sighed again, earning a piercing glare from Zach. She had been looking forward to helping Zach's niece and nephews with their Valentines for a couple weeks, Until she received a call from the Health Department, advising her to take precautions due to a Covid outbreak in her dumpy apartment complex. and now she was only allowed to observe the kids from five feet away. She crossed her arms and sighed again. This was the worst punishment ever. Zach continued circling the table, trying not to notice how Honey's folded arms pushed her tits together, the neckline of her fuzzy sweater dipping between them. Beneath the soft woven folds, the silken white skin of her tits probably still bore the red marks of his passion, his teeth and lips remembering the feel of her shuddering with pleasure under them only moments before his sister dropped her kids off for the afternoon. Jesus Christ; she just uncrossed and crossed her legs again, totally oblivious to the way she flashed him an upskirt every goddamn time she did it. Unless she wasn't oblivious to it; with Honey, it was hard to tell. Zach could tell that Honey was just dying to hop down from the stool, scamper over and huddle with Amarie, Fallon and Logan, as they wrote their names on the stupid little perforated papers and stuck a pencil through the pre-punched holes for a stupid commercial holiday that was supposed to celebrate love. Honey would ask them questions about their classmates, help them choose the right stupid Valentine message for the right classmate, put stickers and shit on the cards, and generally sprinkle that fairy dust that she seemed to bring to anything she did. She was a born nurturer and would make this whole thing magical for the kids, but it couldn't be helped. Honey had scared the shit out of him and she needed to learn a lesson. It would be hard, but he just had to be strong. She would not be getting out of this. Not this time. "Done!" Fallon yelled, slamming his pencil down on the table. Logan looked up from where he was working on his third personalized Valentine message, apparently trying to sign each of them in rudimentary calligraphy, and frowned, "You just put 'F' on all of them," he said in disgust, "It looks like you're giving them a bad grade; he said, shaking his head and returning to his careful scrivening. "I am. Everyone in my class is a jerk. What are these things supposed to mean, anyway? All these cards sound stupid. Like you'd really walk up to someone you like and say 'Let's swing!' I haven't asked a girl to swing in years. I'm too old for swinging," Fallon griped, looking at his Spiderman sticker cards. A snort of suppressed laughter came out of the corner of the room, followed by the sound of a body collapsing to the floor in a fit of coughing. "Fourth Fucking Place! On Your Face, Maggot!" Zach roared. In the corner, hidden among the gym equipment, Zach's friend and loyal wingman Terry promptly scrambled up into pushup position again without a word. "Thirty-two," the children said in unison, prompting Zach to put another dollar into a large money-stuffed jar labeled "Language Arts Scholarship" in the middle of the table. Amarie sighed and looked longingly over at Honey, who smiled ruefully and gave her a little wave from her stool. "Why is Miss Honey on the naughty stool, Uncle Zach?" she asked. "Cards," Zach ordered, walking over to block Amarie's view of Honey with his massive body. Amarie resignedly turned back to signing her pink and purple mermaid cards that came with scented tattoos. Zach knew Amarie would be a problem. She adored Honey, and there was very little that Amarie's big brown eyes and reddish curls couldn't talk him into. She had a tender heart that couldn't believe anyone deserved to be punished; especially not someone as soft and sweet as his Honey. Goddammit. Honey leaned forward and pressed her cheek against the tightly muscled wall of Zach's back, then reached her hand up under his t-shirt and began gently scratching him. She could feel the warmth of his skin seep through the tight cotton, and smiled as she snuggled into him, still grazing her fingernails across the skin of his back. Zach's mind flashed back to this morning when her nails were not so gentle as he pounded into her tight, wet pussy, her nails digging deep, scoring his flesh in her ecstasy. A noise of pleasure escaped him before Zach disguised it as a barking cough, and quickly stepped away until he was a safer distance away from the irresistible vixen sitting, most deservedly, on the naughty stool. Shaking his head to clear it, Zach tucked his t-shirt back into his jeans and folded his arms. "Miss Honey is on the naughty stool. I ll tell you why. The other day when I got back from the race in California where I had to drag Terry's ass across the finish line in Fourth Place Behind The Fucking Bubbleheads," Zach ranted, before pausing to collect himself and continuing. "I go over to get Miss Honey at her apartment and find her giving a fucking haircut to a naked guy in her fucking living room!" "You cheated, Miss Honey?" Fallon gasped in disbelief, at the same time Logan called out "Thirty-six!" Zach fished a five-dollar bill out of his wallet and put it into the jar, taking a one out for change. A foot stomped on the floor and he glanced up to see Honey with her hand raised in the air, outrage written on her face. He raised his hand, blocking his view of her face and the heart-melting effect it had on him, and looked away dismissively. "He was not naked! Cade had a towel on!" Honey yelled in protest. Zach strode over to her, took her chin in his hand, trying to think of something harsh and authoritative to say, but got distracted by her plump lower lip instead, remembering how it felt to suck it between his own and have her open her mouth, hungry to accept his tongue. He could smell the faint strawberry scent of her lip balm and closed his eyes, clenching his jaw in an effort not to kiss her. "No talking on the naughty stool," he murmured, his eyes dipping down to let his gaze rove over her soft tits, loosely wrapped in her fuzzy sweater. Honey smirked and kissed his palm. "Miss Honey would never cheat," Amarie said with resolute confidence. Honey nodded in agreement and thanks to the young girl, tossed her long hair over her shoulder and grinned up at Zach. "Towel or no towel, I still saw Cade's nuts when she was goin' after him with the Flowbee," Zach explained, turning from Honey as Logan opened his mouth with a look of question, "And no, 'nuts' doesn't count as a swear," Zach finished, pointing at Logan. Zach resumed his rounds of the table, continuing his story. "So, of course, I reacted like anybody else who saw another guy's nuts in his girlfriend's living room, and she has the balls to tell me not to yell because it's not good for Cade." "I think 'nuts' should be fifty-cents; 'balls' too," Logan said, thoughtfully. "They might not be swears, but they are; indelicate." Zach turned to Honey and silently mouthed the word "indelicate?" to her, a discomfited look on his face. Honey bit her lips, and another snort of laughter erupted from the corner where Terry was still in starting push-up position. "Fourth Place, Maggot! You Got Nothing To Laugh About Except The Size Of Your;" Zach roared, before pausing and breathing deeply and continuing in a calmer voice. "Anyway. Turns out, this guy Cade just got back from a tour and was dealing with some PTSD when he saw another guy's balls in his living room, too, only his girl wasn't exactly giving the other guy a haircut. So, after a bit of trouble, he was living on the streets. No job. No money. Nothing. Then, a few days ago, Honey sees him eating some of the food she left out for a stray cat," Zach said, his voice constricting as his throat tightened. He turned away from the kids to hide his face for a moment, only to meet Honey's deep blue eyes and a whole new set of problems; like not remembering anything he was talking about before. She reached up and stroked his cheek, and then he felt all the blood in his brain drain down below his belt. Fucking hell. "Miss Honey helped him, though, didn't she?" Amarie said expectantly, more as a statement than a question. "What? Yeah. Of course, she did," Zach said with exasperation, looking down into Honey's face, and trying not to laugh at her stubbornly set jaw. "Miss Honey never fucking heard of "stranger danger," or met a wreck of a person she couldn't care about. So, she takes this 'Cade' in, feeds him, gets him washed up, takes him shopping at the Salvation Army, and then takes his ass to the library to write up his fucking resume and apply for jobs, for cryin' out loud," Zach said, putting another two dollars into the jar before Logan could remind him. "When I got there, Cade was there in her living room with his nuts showing under the towel, getting a vacuum cleaner haircut, because he'd gotten a job interview with a moving company." "Yeah, but if she wasn't cheating, I don't see what she did wrong," Fallon said, applying a scented mermaid tattoo to the back of his hand. "Is this what mermaids smell like?" he wondered. "Yeah, well, just as I was cooling down, this 'Cade' starts in on me for letting Honey stay in that piece of crap apartment of hers and taking in homeless guys. Even had the nerve to ask me what woulda happened if he'd been some addict, or worse, if someone that got to thinking that she was his girlfriend?" Zach said, folding his arms and looking down at Honey, who looked quite unrepentant. "What? So, Miss Honey can't be nice because they might have problems or fall in love with her?" Amarie asked. "That's not fair! You wouldn't even like her if she wasn't happy and nice all the time because she was always worried about what would happen if the boys fall in love!" "Ugh. Love ruins everything. Maybe that's why these Valentines are all so stupid, so nobody actually falls in love; Fallon said, with an air of realization. "Yeah; and then girls can take the pencil from the card and jab anybody that wants to kiss them, too." "If the burden was placed on women to be preemptively hostile to avoid rejecting unwanted affections, it might explain the decline of romance in the modern era; and 'crap' is an excremental swear," Logan added offhandedly, not looking up from his fourth Valentine message. Zach's eyes grew wide, his jaw going slack as he looked at his oldest nephew with unnerved awe and added another dollar to the jar without argument. "They should really make these things with nunchucks; Fallon added, looking down at his Valentines, "Nobody can kiss you if you have nunchucks." "The point is, even a freaked out homeless guy knew that Miss Honey did something dangerous that nobody should ever do! You don't just grab strangers off the street and take them into your homes because there's a lot of crazies out there that will mess you up for no reason at all!" Zach ranted at the kids. A stomp from the corner made Zach turn back to where Honey waved her hand insistently in the air, her sweater pulling up and exposing a narrow bit of skin at her waist. The skin was pale and beautiful, like the rest of her, except where there was a slight bruise where his fingers had gripped her tightly as he pounded into her from behind in a haze of animalistic lust, only a few hours ago. "Yes?" he asked hoarsely, a dew of sweat breaking out over the back of his neck. Honey cleared her throat, "Okay; say someone threatened to kill you and then scared you to death for a whole year by following you around; and then one day you wake up at their house all beaten up and they tell you that they're going to keep you there and take care of you until you're better. Should you give them a chance, or just phone an Uber and get the heck out of there?" Honey asked, putting her hands on her hips. A peal of laughter rose out of the corner where Terry was, and Zach stomped his foot, ending it quickly. "I don't know. That person sounds scary, Miss Honey; Amarie said, her large eyes concerned. "That's just insane. That's like that movie where this crazy lady kidnapped this guy and makes him write books for her and then she smashed his legs with a sledgehammer when;" "Who the fuck is letting you watch 'Misery,' Fallon?" Zach roared. "YouTube," Fallon said, shrugging. "Jesus Fucking Christ; Zach said, waving down Logan's hand and stuffing more bills into the jar, then walked back to where Honey sat with a smirk on her face. Glaring down at her, he crossed his massive arms, and she crossed her legs again, squirming slightly on her stool. "Maggot, come watch the kids," he barked as Terry collapsed on the floor with a relieved sigh. "I wanna talk to you in the other room," he said, gripping Honey by the back of her neck and steering her up the stairs as she tried to control her giggles. "But there isn't another room; it's all just one big room. Even your bedroom is just a big shelf;" Honey began, until Zach steered her into the bathroom and locked the door. "Hey kids, what do you say we turn this into a dance party!" Terry yelled, and loud music quickly started blasting outside the bathroom door. "Did they just fucking compare me to Annie Bates?" Zach asked as Honey dropped to her knees, unzipped his jeans and took out his painfully excited erection. "Umm huh," Honey said, hungrily filling her mouth with his hard cock, as his hand gripped the back of her head. Zach's breath hitched as she began rubbing her tongue on the bottom of his mushroom head, clutching his flexing thighs. Groaning, he thrust back and forth slowly, watching his cock slide in and out of her wet lips. "Just for that, you're swallowing my load this time," Zach growled, gripping her hair tighter and thrusting deeper. Honey just wrinkled her nose and relaxed her throat, letting him plunge and withdraw, clenching his jaw, loving the noises he made as his excitement grew beyond his control. With a strangled moan, he thrust deep and watched her eyes widen when he swelled and throbbed down her throat, until he slowly pulled out and spilled the last hot pulses on her tongue. Honey's eyes glowed as she took him once more into her mouth and slowly slid back, cleaning him with her tongue, until the head of his cock slowly emerged from her wet lips and received a sweet kiss on the tip. He shook his head in amazement and lifted her up in his arms, overwhelmed again at the miracle of having her there with him, when there were so many ways that everything that had happened between them could have gone wrong. Still breathing raggedly, he bent down and kissed her, her eager and innocent passion for him touching him more deeply than he cared to admit. How in the hell had he managed to get this girl? Zach lifted her up and set her bottom on the bathroom countertop and stripped her sweater over her head, bending and going after her neck first. He loved the way she shivered when she felt his lips and teeth drag across the smooth skin, the way she completely lost herself to him. She was already panting those soft sighs against the top of his head when he freed her tits and took them in his mouth, and then he chuckled when she jumped at the sensation of it. God, he hoped she never changed. Diving in, he devoured her soft pale flesh, her rosy nipples tightening under his busy tongue. He reached down, pushed her skirt up, and moved the wet gusset of her panties aside. He laughed again, feeling the abundant slippery nectar between his fingers, leaving no doubt that she wanted him just as much as he did her. He wanted to taste her, to feel her hips rise up under his mouth, begging him for more, but he knew Honey could never stay quiet enough, even with Terry blasting a dance mix. Lifting his head from her tits, he returned to her mouth, her nose, her cheeks; God, he couldn't get enough of her. "Look at me," he said in a rough whisper, smiling when Honey's eyes opened obediently, seeking him through her haze of need. She bit her lips and whimpered when his fingers found her clit. "Don't you come until I say," he rasped, toggling her bud expertly. Honey moaned and wound her legs around him, pulling him closer, her back arching in restrained pleasure. "Umm; I can't do it; please; please; she begged, crying softly in loss when he slowed his ministrations, "No; she whimpered. "Don't you want to come on my cock, baby girl?" he said, finding his mark and sliding home into her warm welcome. "Now, come; he said, kissing her softly and pulling her hips to him as he thrust deep. "Ah;" Honey's cry was quickly contained by Zach's hand covering her mouth, his other hand holding her steady as he thrust into her and felt her shaking and squeezing around him as she came. If he hadn't just released in her mouth, there was no way he could resist filling her full of his cum again now. Instead, he just watched Honey's eyes roll back as she clung to him, letting her orgasm take her away until it left her weak and pliable in his arms. He held her against him, slowly moving inside her, waiting for her to recover. Always before, it had been a relentless push for the intense frenzied moment, almost blind to whatever person he was with, but with Honey that was all on its head. She was the experience, for him. Seeing her discover, taste, and feel was everything he wanted. He didn't want to feel a surge ripping through him if she wasn't there, too. It wasn't real; wasn't complete if she wasn't there with him. Fuck; he was gone for this girl. "There she is; he murmured when he saw her eyes clear and smiling into his again. Relieved, he thrust faster, joining their bodies together with more force, now that she was able to be present to it. "There's my girl; he said, smiling and kissing her again. "Zach; she said, smiling back at him for no reason other than thinking he was something wonderful. Looking at her, he started shaking his head, "God, Honey; I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, it scared the fuck out of me; thinking what could've happened to you; but Amarie's right. I couldn't stand it if you were any other way," Zach rasped, lifting her off the counter just to hold her closer to him. Honey wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging to him as he kissed her desperately, plunging into her again and again. "Promise me; promise me you'll never change; he panted, lifting her and pressing her against the wall as his need grew. "Oh Zach; it's coming; uh; uh; uh; uh;" Honey's squeals were again silenced, this time by Zach's lips. Thrusting with joyous abandon, Zach filled her again and again, pushing into her body, his release tearing through him, made complete only by her embrace, pouring into her his need, his heart, his everything; because she was the only one he wanted to have it. A short while later, Zach and Honey slunk out of the bathroom, carefully primped and looking like nothing at all had happened. They needn't have bothered, though, because the children were transfixed with a story Terry was telling, with his foot on the table and his pants leg pulled up to show a small wound on his ankle. "And I'm screaming bloody murder, of course, because when something in the desert bites you, in your head it's always a rattlesnake, right?" he asked, to the unanimous agreement of the three children. "Well, then your Uncle Zach doesn't even miss a beat and he just picks me up, throws me over his shoulder and continues on the race like nothing happened!" "Whoa! He's really strong! You're like 500 pounds or something!" Fallon exclaimed. "Why didn't he just call for help?" Logan asked, frowning. "No coverage. This race was the middle of nowhere; and Zach figured I'd get the anti-venom faster if he brought me with him, not to mention all the things that woulda crawled up to bite me all alone out there in the desert. So, like a hero, your uncle carried me more than three miles through the desert and dumped me down only after he'd crossed the finish line," Terry said, nodding. "And what's a 'bubblehead?'" Amarie asked. "Well, you see, sweetheart, a 'bubblehead' is;" "A bubblehead is someone who works on a submarine where there's nowhere good to practice running for a race; and who give you no end of shit when you fucking come in fourth place after them, carrying an idiot with a fucking kangaroo rat bite on his goddamn ankle! Back on your face, Maggot!" Zach roared, "Fallon, go sit on Uncle Terry's back, over there," Zach said, pointing to the corner where Terry was getting back into pushup position, and then he took out his wallet and dropped the entire thing into the Language Arts Scholarship jar. "All right, kids, I'm gonna tell you the story the right way, now; Released from the naughty stool, Honey happily buzzed around the apartment, making cupcakes with Amarie, giving pointers to Logan who had decided to fold each of his Valentines into a different origami animal, and bringing water to the profusely sweating Terry, over Zach's obscene objections. At the end of the day, after the kids and Terry had gone home, Honey and Zach had nearly fallen asleep on the sofa when a knock at the door jerked them back awake. Zach seemed to expect it, though, and winked at Honey before getting up and going to the door. "Where do you want it?" the visitor's familiar voice asked, though their face was obscured by a large cardboard box. "Yeah, put them in the storage area, through there; we'll go through it all later," Zach said, pointing out the way to a uniformed Cade. "Cade! You got the job! That's great!" Honey squealed. "Yeah, well it's just moving stuff around, but I can make something of it," Cade called to her over his shoulder as he carried the box to the area Zach had specified. "And what is all this? Are you letting him stay with you until he's got a place of his own?" Honey asked Zach, her eyes shining as she wrapped her arms around him. "Not exactly. Cade's staying at your place. Actually, it's his place, now. This is your place. That's your stuff he's moving in here," Zach explained. "Wait, what? You're moving me out of my apartment?" Honey asked, getting up and looking into the boxes Cade was moving in. "It's a shitty apartment. My foot went through the floor," Zach said in disgust, walking over and enjoying the view as Honey bent over and tried to pull something out of the bottom of one of the larger boxes. "That's because you stepped on one of the soft spots!" Honey's voice said, muffled by the cardboard. "If you stayed to the path I showed you, it wouldn't have; wait a minute, you just gave my apartment to Cade? What am I going to tell my landlord?" Honey said, dropping whatever it was she was trying to lift out of the box. "I don't think the guy who owns your building's gonna mind; Zach said, scratching his chin and looking around the room with a slight smile. "Of course, he's going to mind! He minds everything! Unless it has to do with a toilet that looks like it's sinking through the floor, he; wait a minute; Zach, did you just buy my apartment building?" Honey asked, pulling her head out of the box and frowning at him. "It was really cheap. Saved them the cost of condemning it, really," Zach said with a shrug, taking her hand and pulling her against him. "I'll have Terry and Cade fix it up, rent it out. Maybe find some more guys that need a break; Cade's got some contacts at the homeless vets place." "What, so Cade's one of your guys now, too? Like Terry? I was going to make Cade my Terry! You took my Terry?" Honey asked. "Well, it's not like you knew what to with him, anymore. I have Cade training with us for next year's race, too. I'll make him carry Terry when he gets a hangnail or some other damn thing," Zach said. "Took my apartment; actually my whole apartment building; and you took my Terry. Didn't even ask. I can't believe this," Honey grumbled. "Just so you know, one of these days, I'm gonna need you to marry me and have some babies, too. Good ones, okay? None of those 'well, maybe they'll grow out of it' babies," Zach said. Honey bit her lips like she was hiding a smile and crossed her arms, "That's not how you ask someone to marry you; she said, trying to sound more upset than she felt. "I wasn't asking. Now, was I?" Zach said, lifting her over his shoulder and giving her bottom a spank before carrying her back to the living room. "Do you remember that time I slapped you and called you an 'overbearing ass?' This; Honey said, gesturing to their entire situation, "This is what I was talking about." "Hmm," Zach said, putting her down on her feet, then stretching back on the sofa, making a space for her under his arm, as he turned on the TV. Honey huffed in disgust, but curled up against him anyway, taking the remote and turning it to a movie she liked, just to make a point. Zach only smiled, pulling her closer with his arm. "That apartment was mine; she mumbled, the warm rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his enormous heart already lulling her to sleep. Zach smiled down at Honey, stroking a lock of hair away from her face, grateful and relieved that she hadn't put up more of a fuss. Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head, "Yeah, well; so am I. Happy Valentine's." Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Hospitality For Santa A gullible girl finds a Christmas Night Visitor. Based on a post by tomthumper. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. It was the night before Christmas when Betty Boots was awakened from her wet dream of big dripping candy canes; by a thump, and then a clunk from her apartment's living room. Her big blue eyes popped open as she listened to a rustling, then a man's voice; cursing? Excited, Betty slipped out of bed and crept towards the living room, the cool night air raising goose bumps all over her voluptuous body. The red frilly negligee she wore was frightfully thin, but Betty didn't mind the cold. She was convinced she was going to catch Santa Claus! Eight years ago, when she was just eighteen, she had hidden behind the couch as Santa put presents under the Christmas tree at her parent's home. She'd just returned from college, after semester finals. But even when she was an elementary lass, friends had tried to convince her that Santa wasn't real. But Betty was a special girl. She really, really loved Santa. Eight years ago, as Santa slipped the last present under the tree that night, her mother had come out of the bedroom wearing only a pair of white stockings, stiletto heels, and hair ribbon; and gave Santa a very friendly hug. In return, Santa gave Betty's mum a very sexy workout that night. Betty got the gift of a very sexy education. Unfortunately, the next day when young Betty's salesman Dad called from the airport, about to board his rescheduled flight home; Betty had told him all about Santa's exciting visit. Dad had gotten very upset and yelled at Betty's mum. He hung up and they never saw him again. Betty's mum was angry, and threw Betty out of the house for good. From then on Betty had to go back to college, but since the dorms were vacated til past new years, she had to turn to some fraternities, who were always happy to help the plucky, busty, blonde beauty. They were eager to trade boarding for services. But it's 8 years later. Sneaking towards her apartment living room, Betty was very excited. It was Christmas and Santa had come to visit her! She wasn't angry about Santa causing her parents to split or her abandonment. She had never connected the events. No, Betty was as happy and excited as a particularly naïve schoolgirl. Santa was in her living room! She tried not to skip with glee, as she slipped into the unlit room. Santa was bent over the entertainment center. Perhaps, Betty thought, he was leaving a holiday music CD in her stereo. She hoped it was someone sexy and sophisticated like Britney Spears or Katy Perry. Betty flushed. Santa had sure slimmed down since the last time. He had the firmest butt that showed off very well indeed, in his tight blue jeans. He must have started going to the gym because his muscles bulged beneath his black sweater. He still wore a red Santa hat, which made sense since he was Santa. "Oh; Santa," she said, half out of happiness to find him bringing her presents, and half because; Wow! He was really built. Santa was startled and turned around. Betty was confused. Instead of being old with a white beard, he was young, with chiseled features, short spiky black hair and green vigorous eyes. But then again, Betty thought, Santa was a magical man. Perhaps this was how he appeared to lonely young women who were positively bursting out of their lacy intimates, like her mom had done, some 8 years earlier? "I'm sorry Santa," said Betty in a bashful voice, after flicking on a lamp. Santa was looking very nervous. He had dropped his bag of presents with a clank; and if she didn't know better, she would have said he was about to make a break for it. "I'm sorry Santa," she repeated, edging over to him. "I know I should be tucked in bed like a good girl. But I got so very excited when I heard you delivering my presents." Santa's mouth dropped open, and it took him a moment to say anything. "Santa?" he finally managed to say, in a marvelously deep voice. "You can't fool me, Santa," Betty said proudly, sticking out her magnificent chest. "I'm smart. You're disguising yourself! You may not look like Saint Nick, but who else would be bringing me presents tonight? The Easter Bunny?" "I; I guess you caught me," Santa said, googling at Betty's buxom tits. The fabric of her red negligee was light and sheer, almost transparent. She obviously wasn't wearing a bra and her sizable jugs jostled together amiably. Santa could even catch the hint of her tit's dark areolas. "Well," he gulped. "I should go." He reached to pick up his sack. "Lots of boys and girls to visit." "Oh no, Santa!" Betty exclaimed, clutching him to her bosom. "Please don't go yet! Have some milk and cookies. Mama taught me to be extra hospitable, and be good to you." Santa got a strange look on his face as the buxom blonde rubbed up and down him in her small frilly teddy. Without her noticing, he flipped up the back of her nightie. He broke into a grin. This girl had gone to bed without any panties! "Okay," he said. "I'll stay a bit." He settled down in a brown comfy chair and let Betty serve him his milk and cookies. "Any beer?" Betty got Santa a tall cool one, which he guzzled, in one swig. "Ah!" He plopped the bottle down and looked up at Betty, who was hovering over his extended leg. Facing away, she was removing his boots for a foot massage, and accidentally giving him a preview of her equally blonde nether locks as well. He stretched and then grabbed her round the waist and set her on his lap. Then he asked with a grin. "So what do you want for Christmas, little girl?" "I thought you'd never ask, Santa!" exclaimed Betty. She giggled as she slid further up on his lap, making him go Ooof! and slip his hand up the back of her nightie; all the way up to her shoulder blades. Betty was so excited, she paid no attention to Santa's paw. "But you have to ask me the other question first, Santa," demanded Betty, bouncing on Santa's lap. "Holy" Santa caught himself just in time as Betty gave his lap the bouncing of its life. "What question honey?" "The naughty or nice question!" Betty said impatiently. "What's wrong with you, Santa?" Santa was breathing the sweet scent of Betty's hair; so had to shake his head to answer the question. "Oh, yes! Naughty or nice. Sorry, my girlfriend; I mean, Mrs. Claus left me for one of the elves." He eased his hand lower until it rested on her full round ass. Man, this chick was all curves! "That's awful, Santa!" said Betty, opening wide her full round lips around the 'aw' in awful. "Yes. I walked in on them," said Santa. "Have you ever seen an elf with a twelve inch dick?" "Not on an elf." Betty shuddered. "But twelve inches is a lot for any gal to take, let me tell you." She blushed, realizing that Santa was studying her closely. "Hmm, So you know exactly how she felt," he said, giving her bottom a squeeze. Betty giggled and wiggled. "So Santa has been all alone since June, and what with my work; I don't get to meet cute little scamps like you, except for around Christmas." "Poor Santa!" cried Betty. "So there's been no one to; relieve all the pressure?" Betty grinned as her hand involuntarily slid over the hump between his legs.. Santa might not be twelve inches, but she was pretty sure he was pushing eight or nine, judging from what a bumpy lap she was sitting on. "Yes, it's just been me and the reindeer," said Santa. "Oh, Santa," Betty said in a shocked voice. "You haven't been using Cupid or Comet that way, have you?" "What way is that?" asked Santa, running his finger down between her soft ass cheeks. "You know." Betty squirmed. "Like when a woman bends over and a man takes his; candy cane and slides it into her stocking." "Oh, reindeer-style," Santa drawled. "No, I've never gotten that desperate." He locked Betty in his gaze. "What about you? Have you been a good girl this year? I hope you haven't been getting your stocking stuffed, too much. Though you're very, very stuff-able." "Well..." Betty looked very guilty. "I've been, pretty good?" "Betty," Santa said sternly. "Remember who you are talking to." Betty tugged at the neck of Santa's sweater. "Well, I honestly didn't know about my mistletoe print dress, until Mr. Stevenson and Mr. Johnson took me into the coat room, and explained," she said in a defensive tone. "It was lucky Mr. Johnson told me to take it off, cause while they were performing the traditional punishment, Mr. Stevenson splattered all over me with his big dick! Santa's eyes widened as he imagined the banging of Betty Boots in the coat closet. His pants were getting tighter and tighter, nuzzling Betty's sexy bottom. "I got pretty tipsy as well," admitted Betty. "But I did a good deed! I gave Tim, the office boy, a hand job cause of his cock cancer." "Cock cancer?" "Yes," said Betty, biting her lip trying to remember. "He was afraid he might have cock cancer, and the only way to know was to; you know, try to cum. But he didn't want to find out all alone. So I;" Betty grinned sheepishly. "I gave him a hand job." "And?" asked Santa, shifting with exquisite discomfort. "Oh, he came really, really well!" Betty giggled. "I decided to really make sure he was A okay, so I sucked on him till he came again." Betty licked her full lips. "He tasted very healthy!" She glanced at Santa nervously. "I like tasting cocks. Is that naughty?" "Ho Ho! No!" Santa bounced Betty on his knee, watching her tits jiggle as her ass pounded his bulge. "Except Santa isn't sure if you're not just a little naughty," he said. "The last time I looked at you closely, was when you were still in high school." He wiggled the end of her button nose. "You were in the shower getting all soapy. My how you've sprouted since then!" "In the shower?" Betty squeaked. "Oh gosh, I wasn't using the shower head was I? You know, the naughty way." When Santa nodded, Betty turned bright red. "But, but I have to, cause if I don't, I just can't concentrate on anything. Even now." Betty was crossing and uncrossing her legs and nuzzling against Santa's broad chest. "There, there," said Santa, giving Betty's bottom a comforting pat. "I know a vigorous girl like you needs to let off steam if she's going to try and be nice." Betty calmed down and rested her head on Santa's shoulder. "I decided I should visit you tonight and have a good look at you, because I know how hard you try to be a good girl," he explained. "Sometimes Santa needs to really examine the borderline naughty girls. Now slip off that nightie and let's get started." Betty's eyes widened, and she sat up straight on Santa's lap. "You want to see me naked?" she asked, her voice a little shocked. "Yes," wheedled Santa. "That way I can be really sure if you are naughty or nice. You want your presents, don't you?" "I do! I do!" exclaimed Betty. "I guess it's okay, since it's you, Santa." Betty amiably reached down and took hold of the hem of her fuzzy red negligee. "Now that's the first sign of a good girl!" Santa helped Betty slip the garment over her head, and had her hold her arms up in the air as he feasted his eyes on Betty's supple body. With her perfect complexion and the lotion she rubbed all over herself, by her open window each night, she was good enough to eat. Santa groaned as his eyes unsuccessfully tried to take in Betty's firm melons. Around each nipple was a large chocolate areola, like the ring around a particularly high scoring bulls-eye. "What's the matter, Santa Claus?" asked Betty, putting her arms around him. "You seemed bothered." "Oh, it's nothing," he said, pulling Betty's warm, curvy body closer. "It is just that Mrs. Claus has nice firm tits like yours. I loved to suck on her nipples. They were so tasty." Santa's voice was heavy with sadness. After a moment of silent considering, Betty spoke up in a kindly voice. "You could suck my nipples, if you'd like. I mean, I know it wouldn't be the same as Mrs. Claus, but maybe it would help." She squirmed with delight. She was proud of her tits and having her nipples sucked made her all squishy. "If you're sure you don't mind," said Santa quickly, taking her knockers in his large hands and gently squeezing them. How plump they were! Betty shook her head, a happy half grin lighting up her face. "Thank you very much." Santa gently took the nearest nipple into his mouth and began to suck. Betty's nipples had hardened at the mere idea of Santa having a go; and each was nearly an inch long. Santa closed his eyes as he began to draw on the tasty teat. Betty moaned and rubbed herself on his lap, pushing her breasts into his face. God, she loved to be sucked! Her pussy was getting drippy with delight. "Oh, Santa!" she gasped. "You're so lumpy! What do you have in your pants?" Betty swiveled so she straddled Santa and could better rub up and down his lap. Her pussy lips had spread apart easily to nestle on the rise of his jeans. "I'm sorry, my breasty beauty," said Santa, nosing his way between Betty's heaving knockers. "It's been so long since I felt the touch of a woman. I've even started letting young women sit on my lap. "In Switzerland this Inga in a Heidi skirt hopped up, popped the buttons on my pants and pulled out my stiff todger. She was a horny girl who loved to bounce up and down." Santa gripped Betty's hips and grinded her as he spoke. "Damned if she didn't wrap her pussy lips right around me! And this was all in a crowded mall. She batted her eyes and waved to her friends. Her cunt muscles rippled up and down me as she asked for a pretty pair of shoes for Christmas. The she leaned in and whispered: "Oh Sinterklaas, I want you to use your big cock to fill up my belly!" Then in a louder voice she said, "Oh yah! Bounce me on your knee, yah!" And she rode my cock, surrounded by my elves, mummies and daddies, their children; and also her lewd little girlfriends, until I erupted into her. The last time I saw her, she indeed did have a big belly, and tits almost as big as these." He squeezed Betty's boobs together and sucked each nipple with a long hard pull at the end. "What a saucy girl! And how selfish not to consider your feelings," said Betty, pulling off Santa's cap and putting it on. "I think it is high time someone be your Santa. Or," she grinned. "Be your Ms. Santa!" She stripped off Santa's sweater and marveled at the sculpted bronze muscles underneath. Playfully, she tugged on his nipples. "What nice buttons you have Santa!" Then she whispered naughty things in his ear. "You want to ride the boobie train, Santa? You want to check out my caboose? I bet you could make me blow the whistle, Santa." "Get some steam going, baby!" He slapped her firm round bottom. "Run to your bedroom and Santa will follow with a big candy cane for his special special girl." So Betty ran, her boobs bouncing, giggling lustily, and Santa followed, dropping his pants and letting his cock wave in the air. Betty tripped on a pair of high-heeled boots and fell face down on her bed, her boobs splayed out on either side of her. Before she could move, Santa caught up, raised her bottom and started sliding his turgid cock between her plump ass cheeks. "Santa!" laughed Betty. "What a naughty boy you are!" "What a wet girl you are!" Santa spread Betty's legs and dipped his fingers into her sodden snatch. "Oh, Santa," groaned Betty. "Just how I like my ho's," chuckled Santa. He withdrew his fingers and gripped his reddened rocket. "Here comes Santa Claus! Right down Betty's cunny lane!" He fed his cock into Betty's pussy, reindeer style. "Oh, Santa!" Betty lost her balance and ended up with her head buried in pillows and stuffed animals. "Ho, Ho, Ho!" moaned Santa, his cock buried in the pussy of this beautiful woman's body. Her round toned ass was up in the air, her boobs rocking with each thrust, her empty head was lost under the pillows. "Mumfer!" Betty tried to say, flailing her arms. "Oh yes! You hot bitch!" cried Santa, battering her bottom with the pent up lust of the last six months. All he wanted was release and the liquid snugness of this beauty's snatch on his red-hot cock. That she was temporarily headless just made him more animal, more Satan than Santa. "Ah, mumph!" went Betty as Santa's dick stretched her wet pussy. She tried to pull her head from the pillows but Santa was ramming her so hard all she could do was be ridden by him like an extremely busty fuck doll. He was fucking her so fast and the air was so hot and close under the pillows, teddy bears, and her tickle-me-Elmo. She felt like the naughtiest fuck doll you might see advertised at the back of a porno rag. He was just using her to sate his big bulging cock. His swelling mushroom head rubbed her walls. She was going to cum, but she felt so dizzy, so light. "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ," grunted Santa, working his dick up into a white foam of her cunt cream. The sucking and slurping noises from Betty's cunt echoed off the wall as her boobs rocked back and forth on the bed. Her head was still out of sight under the bedding. "I'm gonna fill this ass!" Santa declared and slapped a red handprint across it. Then the pussy, for Santa had forgotten poor suffocating Betty, suddenly tightened and he found real resistance and purchase for his cock. The cunt dragged on his dick as he slid out, and was slow to give way as he shoved in. "Oh yes! You wonderful poon tang," he said, digging in with his dick, feeling every inch as he plowed. "That's, That's it," he groaned. And as he plunged deep; the pussy convulsed around him; giving him a series of rapid squeezes. "Hmm, ah." came the muffled cry of orgasm from under the pillows. "Oh, what a fucking tremendous naughty girl!" Santa's cock exploded and shot ropes of cum into Betty's twitching snatch. He held her weighty bottom up, and filled her up like a fuel tank on a big rig. Santa gasped and let Betty's body fall to the bed, his gleaming, still-hard cock, slipping from her pussy. Her snatch twinkled from between her golden ass cheeks. On either side of her small and finely muscled back, her boobs spread out like overfilled water balloons. Her head was still under the pillows and she wasn't moving at all. Was she even breathing? "Betty?" His cock twitched and spurted cum residual over her bottom and the small of her back. Betty didn't move at all. "Oh, fuck!" He grabbed her leg and shook it. Nothing. "Shit," he muttered. "Stealing is one thing. Pretending to be Santa, who cares? But murder!" Santa Claus, a.k.a. Sam Clay; burglar, jumped onto the bed and pulled the pillows and teddy bears from Betty Boots' blonde heat. He flipped her over, her jugs sloshing from side to side until finally coming to a quivering halt. Her eyes were closed and her plump red lips hung open. Sam had been merrily breaking into the less secure apartments of the complex, loading up on Christmas presents when he slipped into Betty's apartment through the unlocked balcony door. Who knew Christmas shopping could be so much horny fun? Or turn so wrong? "Please don't be dead," pleaded Sam. "You're such a fine fuck!" He rested his ear between her tits and held his breath. For a moment he could hear nothing over the pounding of his own heart. But then, then there was a soft and steady echoing in that wonderful chest of hers. He sat back in the bed and sighed with relief. After a moment, Betty stretched without waking up, turned on her side towards Sam; and rested her tousled blonde head on his lap. She smacked her lips and sighed. Sam had been worrying about brain damage. How many brain cells did this girl have to spare? But all worries left his mind when she put her head on his leg. "Hmm! Maybe she needs cock-to-mouth resuscitation!" he said, his dick starting to stiffen. Stroking himself luxuriously, he put his tip up to her mouth. At first she furrowed her brow and refused him, but he persisted, rubbing the tip with its bead of pre-cum over her lips until she licked them. After that she relaxed completely and let him slip his member into her mouth. First his head went in and she was eagerly sucking after a few mewls. "Oh yes, baby," he groaned as her tongue explored his cock-head, lapping the underside. "Santa's got the tasty candy-cane for you." He stroked her head, gently applying pressure on the back of her head, so soon she was bobbing her head up and down on his dick. "What a hungry mouth you have," he moaned as she sucked hungrily on him, her hair tickling his abs and her nipples brushing his thighs. Betty's eyelids fluttered open and then became very wide as she realized that she was orally pleasuring Santa's very big, very bulging dick. "Umm; Hmm! Slurp! Slurp! Oh, Santa Claus, you made me cum so hard I passed out!" Betty wrapped her hands around Sam's cock and pumped him as she talked. "I am sorry Santa, no one has fucked my brains out like that, ever!" "That's okay, Betty," Sam grunted, watching the tip of his dick disappear between Betty's boobs. "Except Santa still has this raging hard-on." "I'm sorry Santa," Betty said, realizing she was covered in a layer of hardening cum. "I'm being so selfish when I'm supposed to be giving." She climbed up Sam's prone body, took hold of his pole and slid her gorgeously tight pussy all the way down him, right to the hilt. She swayed like a bronco rider on top of him, moaning. "Oh Santa, such a big gift on Christmas!" She began to slowly slide herself up and down him. Sam lay back and watched the blonde beauty ride him, groaning as she moaned, squeezing her knockers, and urging her on. "Oh shit! You're going to be at the very top of my nice list for this," he said as she picked up her pace and began to gallop. Her boobs flew high into the air and then dropped onto her chest with fleshy thuds over and over again. Faster and faster she fucked. Her pussy was tingling every nerve of his dick until he could no longer stand it. "Jingle Boobs! Jingle Boobs," he gasped. "Jingle all the... oh god, oh god... Jingle All the Way!" And his cock gunned shot after shot into her snug little snatch. "Oh Santa. Oh Santa! Fill me up with your sticky snow!" Betty rocked her pussy furiously over his dick. "Oh, oh, Santa! Santa! Santa!" She was really loud now. She raised her arms in the air and her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. "Merry Christmas, Santa!" And she came, doing little half jerky gasps over his pulsing dick. "Merry" She bounced. "Christmas" She undulated. "Santa!" She jiggled up and down furiously for a glorious moment, her knockers slapping her chest and then her chin stunningly. Finally she fell beside Sam gasping. At that point Sam thought it was over, but he didn't realize what a trooper Betty Boots was. She slithered down to his lap and slipped his still pulsing dick into her mouth. Slowly and thoroughly she milked the last of his cum and licked his balls clean. Sam looked up to the heavens in bliss. When all of this was finished he looked down. Betty was curled up beside him asleep, a naughty grin on her face. The next morning Betty was delighted to find two presents from Santa under her two-foot plastic tree. Santa must have been a little too happy from Betty boinking because one had a label to Lori and the other one was addressed to Mabel. The Lori present was a tiny white crop top with Pretty ink-stamped across the chest. Betty blushed, thinking of what kind of attention she would get wearing a top better suited to a flat-chested twelve-year-old. The Mabel present was a black three-foot massage wand, but Betty soon found another very naughty use for her present. She was sure Santa would approve. It was the best Christmas ever!  Based on a post by tomthumper, for Literotica.

Elf on a Shelf: Part 2 Life in hob-along mode. Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. When she woke the next morning, Zach was standing next to the bed with a pain pill and a glass of water. "Terry's gonna be here in about half an hour. I could make you some breakfast?" he said, putting the pill and the water into her hand. Honey shook her head, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I'd; I'd like to take a shower before I go; if that's okay," she asked. "Right; uh; I'll just set it up for you. I'll get your things together after you're done in there; if you still want to go, that is; Honey closed her eyes and nodded, "Thank you," she whispered, unable to look at the silent pleading in his face. When the shower was ready, Zach carried her down the stairs and set her down in his large walk-in shower on the bathing chair he'd set up for her. "I, uh; I warmed up the water. The; soap and shampoo stuff is right here," he said, gesturing to a collection of bottles put down within her reach. "If you need anything, I'll be right; right here," he said, sitting down on the toilet, looking like he didn't know what to do with his hands. Honey nodded and took off her nightgown and panties, putting them on the floor outside the shower. She leaned down and began unwrapping the velcro the straps on her boot, finding that she couldn't reach the last one. She opened her mouth to ask for help, but Zach was already sliding the door open to undo it for her. When he disassembled the boot around her foot and lifted it away, a slight whimper escaped her when the motion bumped her ankle slightly. Zach's eyes flashed to hers as she tried to cover herself with her arms, "I'm okay," she whispered. Clenching his jaw, Zach nodded, stood and left the stall. The water felt like heaven after the sad sponge baths she had given herself in bed. Her skin came alive in the heat and flushed a deep pink. "Is that too hot? You're getting red," Zach said, standing next to the door looking concerned. "No; it's perfect," she sighed. She twisted around to reach the shampoo and tipped it over, groaning as she watched it roll out of reach. Zach reached into the stall and returned it to her, growling in annoyance as he watched her try to squeeze some out with only one fully functional arm. Soon, he stepped into the shower with her, clad only in his underwear. "I don't know how you think you're going to do this by yourself; he grumbled, glaring at her as he massaged the shampoo into her long hair. "I'll figure it out; put a folding chair in the tub or something," she said, trying not to notice that the fabric of his underwear was leaving nothing to the imagination the wetter it got. "A fucking folding chair will slip. I'll send this one with you. You still can't reach shit, though." "I haven't done this before. I'll get better as I go." "Yeah, but until then, you'll; Look, you need to give me a call when you; so that I know you're okay." "You wouldn't be able to hear me talk; the water makes this growling noise," she said. "Well, why the fu; never mind. You call me before and after. No longer than 10 minutes, or I send Terry." "And he just does whatever you tell him? You're really kinda bossy." "Glad we sorted that out. Put your head back." With a smirk, Honey leaned back, letting him support her with his arm as he rinsed the shampoo out of her hair. After one minute, Zach began swearing under his breath. "I've been rinsing this shit out of your hair forever and there's still more! How the fuck is this possible?" Honey began giggling, despite the pain it caused her shoulder. "I guess you should allow me longer than 10 minutes to shower, then; she murmured. "Ten fucking minutes, or I send Terry." "Do you have any conditioner?" "Any what?" "Never mind," Honey said, trying to control her face. When he finally released her from being rinsed, Honey grabbed the loofa and put some body wash on it, washing what she could reach with her right arm while Zach glared down at her. "Oh, for fuck's sake," he grated, roughly taking the fluffy sponge from her and then washing her with surprising gentleness. When he delicately supported and washed her broken ankle, he waited until he finished before looking up at her, "Remember, doctor says you can take off your boot for a while now and then, so that should help with the smell. I'll pack the extra sock so you can put a clean one on and wash the; well, just how the fuck are you going to do the laundry?" he asked, as if she created the concept of dirty laundry just to bother him. "Hand wash?" she suggested. "That won't work for these boot socks! They smell like gangrene or some shi;" "Well, now you're just flirting; she said, smiling up at him. For a moment Zach's face went completely blank, his eyes slowly traveling down her naked body as his face turned bright red, then he turned away and cursed under his breath again. "Grab onto my arm and I'll finish you up," he said, clenching his jaw and holding out his forearm to her, as he diligently looked away. Cautiously, she took his arm and tried to stand, rising wobbly on her left leg. Before she could gain her balance, her hand slipped on his wet arm and he pulled her tightly against him before she could fall. Body to body, they clung on to each other in the hot spray, each of them shaking. "Honey; you may notta noticed, but I'm hanging on by a fucking thread, here," Zach said quietly in her ear, "Try not to get yourself killed for two seconds." Honey nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist so that he could move his arms again. She felt him move the loofah between her legs and begin washing her private area, looking around the shower stall as he did. When Honey cringed and her breath hissed between her teeth, he stopped, "What's wrong?" he asked, looking down at her face. "It's; rough; she said, quietly. "Yeah, but it was fine when; oh; right; sensitive. Okay; he said, swallowing as he tossed the loofah aside and hesitantly reached his fingers between her legs. Honey leaned her forehead on his chest and closed her eyes, gasping when his fingers made contact. "Is that; is that okay?" he asked. She nodded and tried to move her legs further apart for him. Zach gently washed her, trying to think of sports scores, laxative commercials, or the accounts payable at the club, but inevitably his cock noticed that he was holding the woman of his dreams naked in his arms. When she shifted against him, trying to keep her balance, a breathy grunt escaped him as she inadvertently rubbed against him. "I'm sorry; she whispered, trying to give him more room. "Don't be; you're perfect; it's fine; he said, trying to think about anything but how it would feel to slide his cock between her slippery lips right at that moment. "Let me just get the; water; he gritted, reaching for the shower sprayer and directing it between her legs. Honey gasped and whimpered as the water pulsed against her clit, down her labia and over her anus again and again, feeling Zach's eyes on her as he did it, intensely absorbing her every reaction. She trembled as she held on to him, trying to remain calm. Finally, she raised her eyes up to him and opened her wet lips and whispered, "Zach; ?" "Hey, how do you guys want your eggs?" Terry asked, sticking his head into the bathroom. "Get The Fuck Out Of Here, Maggot!" Zach roared, as Honey squealed and released him, quickly ducking down to where Terry couldn't see her on the shower chair. "Scrambled, it is," Terry said, ducking out of the bathroom and leaving them alone again. Zach watched Honey begin to shiver as the room cooled off and handed her a towel. "Let me know when you're dry and I'll wrap up your leg again," he said, looking around the bathroom uncomfortably before wrapping a towel around his waist and taking off his wet underwear from underneath. After securing her ankle in the air cast, Zach carried her back up to the bedroom, turned his back to her, and blocked Terry's kitchen view of the loft as Honey dressed. When she finished, Zach turned around again, his mouth hardening into a grim line when he saw she had put on her elf dress again. "You're; going, then," he said, frowning as he watched her wince at the pain in her shoulder as she tried to tie the thick red ribbon belt behind her back. He stepped behind her and took the belt out of her hands and began brusquely tying it. "I want you to stay," he said to the back of her head, tugging the loops into a tight knot. Honey hobbled around to face him, "Enough to tell me why you wanted to send that message to someone?" she asked him, her dark blue eyes somber. "You; you wouldn't want to stay if I did," he murmured, stroking the soft velvet covering her arms. "Then, I guess I should go," she said, looking away before she could start crying again. "Wow, nice apartment!" Terry said, following Honey inside her apartment with the bag of her clothes. "The blood stains really bring the room together; "Say what you will, it's all mine," she said, hobbling over to the sofa and curling up, exhausted. "Here's your mail. I gotta text Zach, he's going nuts; well, more than usual, anyway," he said, handing her a stack of envelopes. "Arrived at hellhole; Angel has typhoid; the tweakers give their love; send food stamps," he said aloud, typing into his phone as Honey went through her mail. "Let me go set up the bath chair; just the thing to class up the joint," he said, disappearing to the bathroom. When Terry returned, he found Honey white as a sheet, reading a letter. "Whoa, kid; you okay? Need a pain pill? Let me take you back to Zach's. You look like you really do have typhoid; he said, kneeling down next to her. "Um; yeah, I'm fine," she said faintly, then cleared her throat. "Would; would you mind taking that laptop with you when you go deliver the charity gifts to the firm? They; asked me to send it back; probably upgrading; she said, quickly wiping the tears off her cheeks. Terry watched her for a long moment, his face grim, and don't mention it to Zach?" he finished. "Um; probably not?" Honey choked. "Ah, Honey; you have hospital bills. This is where a sensible person starts telling themself, 'Hey self, maybe I should go back to that really great guy that wants to take care of me," Terry said, closing her laptop and wrapping the power cord around it. "If he's such a great guy, why does he send people messages like this?" she asked, holding up the screenshot to him. After staring at the screen for a while, Terry let out a low whistle, "Now, see, Zach just puts it right out there. You gotta respect that. No wonder he got so much ass. He send this to you?" "He said he meant to send it to someone else, but what are you talking about? He sent this to me on our first date when he went to the restroom! I thought he wanted to kill me!" Terry canted his head and looked at the screenshot again, "Oh; yeah, I could see that. Especially if you got it without the dick pic," he said, nodding sympathetically. "No, see, this was sort of a sex S O S, if you will. A guy goes out with a girl like you, it's like a high-wire act. He gets all wound up, needs to blow off some steam, sends out a flare hoping someone can help him take the edge off things so you don't find out what a high-strung, rough sex freak he is. You're a big deal. He just didn't want to scare you off, Angel," Terry explained. "He; he wanted to go have sex with someone else after our date??" Honey yelled, incensed. "Only because he *liked* you so much!" Terry argued, winsomely. Just then, Honey's phone rang in his hand and he tapped the screen, "Honey's phone!" he answered. "Don't Ever Talk To Me Again!" Honey yelled at her phone when she saw it was Zach's number. "Ah yeah?" Terry said, holding the phone to his ear. "Yeah. Right. Be right over," he said, disconnecting the call and handing the phone back to Honey. "What did he say?" Honey asked, grinding her teeth. Terry leaned over and flipped her phone back to the screenshot that had frightened her so much, "Yeah; pretty much that; just without the sex. See you when I get out of the hospital, kid," he sighed. During the next week, Honey took a bus to the city hall offices and applied for unemployment, used the library computers to send out her resume and read her email, and got no calls whatsoever from Zach. Gatsby's, however, started having trouble with their delivery service and three meals a day were accidentally delivered to her disreputable apartment. When she called Gatsby's about it, she was assured they were working on it and were sure to fix the delivery service problem; as soon as they got a delivery service. The following week, Honey got a knock at her door. Promising herself she would open the door only for the pleasure of slamming it shut in the visitor's stupid, handsome face, Honey hobbled up and looked through the peep hole. It wasn't who she expected, though. "Um, hi; she said, opening the door a bit and tightening her robe. "Hi Honey, I'm Jeff. You probably don't remember;" "I remember you," Honey said, opening the door wider. "Please come in." "Thank you," he said, coming in and standing with his coat over his arm as she hobbled back to the couch. "Jeff, I always wanted to call Gatsby's and thank you; you know, for what you did," Honey said. "For the 'angel shot.' I didn't realize I was on a date with the owner, at the time. I hope it didn't make trouble for you," she said. "You're kidding, right? He fired me on the spot," Jeff laughed. "Oh no; she said, covering her face with her hands. "Oh, I'm so sorry." "No, it's okay. He hired me back as a manager a couple weeks ago. Said anyone who had the balls to do what it took to protect you, even from him, that was someone he wanted taking care of his customers. Actually said that, looking back, if you had been scared enough to ask someone for help back then and they *didn't* help you, well, he'd probably want to go find them and; and; well, the details don't matter, and they're probably illegal, anyway. The point is, we're good." "Oh, that's; that's good to hear. Is this about the delivery service problem, then?" "We don't have a delivery service." "Well, yeah, I know. I mean the meals that Zach is making you send me." "Um; I'm probably going to get my life threatened for telling you this, but we're not sending you meals. Zach's popping in and out with a lot of takeout boxes under his arm, but Gatsby's isn't sending you any meals, Honey. That's; that's all Zach." "Oh; Honey said, her cheeks warming. "Yeah, no I came to ask if you'd be interested in a job." Honey laughed, "I appreciate it, but don't think I'd make much of a waitress right now." "Actually, I kinda had something else in mind; Honey's heart pounded as the music swelled and she felt the platform descend, her legs dangling down clad in candy cane striped stockings and curled-toe shoes. Her dress was the same pink velvet and white fur trim costume as before, but the fabric was far more luscious and expensive than the dress she'd worn in the mall. It had arrived at her door with a seamstress tasked with making it fit flawlessly. Honey's eyes were closed out of habit, getting ready to sing for the clientele of the great room as Gatsby's "Elf on a Shelf." She knew he was out there. He always came out of hiding when she sang. A smile curled across her face as she felt the spotlight warm her body. She opened her eyes. After the show, Honey stripped off her tights and a stage hand gave her the air cast as soon as the platform had risen out of sight. Gingerly, she eased her leg back into the boot and began strapping herself in again. As she reached the last fastener, two large hands took the straps out of hers and began wrapping them expertly. Honey blushed and looked aside as Zach did it, and tried not to roll her eyes when he checked the other two straps to be sure she had secured them properly. His eyes wandered over her with nervous adoration, like he still couldn't quite convince himself she was real; even after the mundane work of feeding her, dressing her, and cleaning her all those days up in his loft. "Did you like the show?" she asked quietly, looking up at him with a small smile. Zach sighed with relief, having received tacit permission to speak to her again. "Yes," he said. "Did you really like it?" she asked, her eyes twinkling, her smile growing bigger. "I really; really liked it," Zach said, nodding and pulling at the collar of the dress shirt that was having trouble containing him. He seemed to have only grown larger in their weeks apart. "So much that you want to go have rough sex with somebody else tonight?" she asked, her large and deceptively innocent, twinkling eyes skewering him. Zach's mouth set, "I; I don't do that anymore. I exercise," he said quietly, reddening and looking away from her. "Oh; I see," Honey said, nodding. Ignoring the hands he offered her, Honey rolled herself onto her good knee and clumsily pushed herself back up into a standing position, her skirt flashing him as she rose. "What the fuck is that?" Zach yelled, pulling her skirt up to where a large purpling bruise was blooming on her hip. Honey bit her lips and forced her face to stop grinning before she turned and faced him again. "What's what?" she asked innocently. "What the hell do you think? That fucking huge purple ass-shiner you're walking around with! Where the fuck did that come from?" he roared. "Oh, that? I slipped. You know, it's icy out there; she said brightly, patting his chest and hobbling past him to her dressing room. Zach clenched his hands and followed her, growling things under his breath that would make a sailor blush. She wobbled into the dressing room, leaving the door open behind her, wondering if he would follow her in. He didn't, but instead stood there in the doorway glowering at her like a gargoyle as she pulled some clothes out of a large Gatsby's takeout bag. Honey's ribs were beginning to hurt from trying not to laugh. Honey breath hissed through her teeth as she reached behind her, fumbling with the knot of her wide red ribbon belt, her shoulder still healing from the dislocation. Before long, she heard muttered curses and large feet stomp into the room and push her hands aside, untying the belt for her. She smiled her thanks up at him over her shoulder, and moved her hair aside so he could help her with the zipper. Carefully, he smoothed some more of her hairs aside and slowly lowered the clasp. "So, um; how would it have worked?" she asked quietly, the softness of her voice making him lean in to hear her. Zach cleared his throat, "How would what have worked?" he asked, his breath falling warm on her neck as he tried to unclasp the tiny hook at top of the dress with his large fingers. "If we'd gotten together that night; if I'd never got that message," she said. Zach closed his eyes and shook his head. "I would've taken you home. Maybe tried for a kiss at your door, if you looked like you wanted it," he said, his voice hoarse. "Cheek or lips?" she asked. He sighed, "Who am I kidding? I would've passed out from not breathing by the time I got that close." "And those; other things; would you have wanted to do those things to me? To hurt me; to scare me?" she asked, her voice shaking. Zach turned her to look her in the eye, and she wrapped her arms around herself, keeping the unzipped, loose elf dress from falling down. "No Honey," he swore, shaking his head emphatically, cupping her face and holding her tightly. "God no. Never. Never ever. I would've never let you see that side of me. I'd give it up. I gave it up. I'd go run ten miles before I even;" his impassioned vows were interrupted by a loud crack as a delicate hand slapped him across the face. "How dare you?" Honey said, trembling with fury before she winced and cradled her hand to her chest as Zach blinked slowly in disbelief, trying to process what had happened. "That's for deciding you'd just have a boring, unsatisfied sex life with me without even asking what I wanted, you; you overbearing ass! That's for offering only a part of yourself to me! That's for ruining our beautiful date because you were ashamed of the man I lo;" Honey's uncharacteristic rage was interrupted by Zach's mouth descending on hers and claiming it furiously, pressing her against the wall as her dress fell to the floor. The kiss ended almost as quickly as it began, and Zach pulled away from her, his face a twitching, terrifying storm as he stared down at her. He wrapped his hand around the slender wrist of her only functional arm and pressed it to the wall over her head. "You don't hit me like that; ever," he said quietly, breathing hard through flared nostrils. Honey trembled, staring up into his blazing eyes almost panting against him in terror; but also in something else. The corner of Zach's mouth curled when he saw her deep blue eyes dilate hugely, a heady, familiar scent rising up between them. "You don't fucking hit anyone like that; goddamn amateur. You wanna break your wrist? Jesus Christ. Get your ass dressed and I'll take you home, you little freak," he growled, turning around to give her privacy and hide the huge smile he couldn't stop from covering his face. When Honey came up panting for air, she was pressed against the wall of Zach's loft as he fumbled with the locks of his door with one hand. She was making good progress at getting his shirt off, but it kept bunching up around his arms, and the cuffs were still a problem she didn't even want to think about. Even so, she was blissfully occupied with the acres of warm bare skin and muscle that she had excavated. "This isn't my home; she said, looking around bewildered, "why does everyone get my address wrong?" "Probably because they've blocked it out after seeing your place. Shut up and tell me what you want," Zach said, carrying her over to the stairs until he saw a bit of her lower lip he needed to bite and had to take a break to do it properly. "Look, don't give me names, because then I'd have to kill 'em, but tell me what makes you hot, Honey; we're gonna do all of it and more. I'm making your dreams come true, tonight," he said, winding his hand in her hair as she dropped her head back to give him her neck. "Oh! Um; I liked it when;" "No names," he reminded her, covering her mouth. "Right; well, this one guy, he um; he wore a towel around his waist and bent over his dresser to look for his underwear? And this other time, he held this spoon out to me and I opened my mouth and he fed me. And; and; um; in the shower, he; he held me against him in the water and;" "Honey, are all these stories gonna be about me?" "Um; yeah?" "That's sweet of you, tryin' to keep me outta jail and all, but I need you to get to the part about cock and pussy. Stories about me aren't gonna help that. Cock, pussy, tongue, ass, tits, ears, neck, taint - what do you like?" he asked "Right; uh; I liked it when you washed me down there; my pussy; with your fingers?" Honey said, at a loss. Zach drew his head back from her neck and looked at her, his face growing uneasy. "Honey?" "And when you sprayed the water back and forth down there, especially the top bump part, that really made me feel amazing, kind of squirmy, you know?" "Oh Jesus; he said, looking as if he'd been hit in the head. "And um; I know I wasn't supposed to look, but your um; you know; p-penis; in the shower, when your underwear got wet? That was" "I don't feel so good; he said, lowering himself to the floor and sitting down on the stairs. "No, no, it's fine. We can do this. What's a taint and what do I do with it?" she asked, sitting down and cuddling up next to him. Zach held his head in his hands, "You're a virgin; not like an "everything but" Evangelical, but like an alien or something. I don't know if I can do this." "Look, I know how to have sex; I had health class, for Pete's sake!" she said, slapping his shoulder. "What the fuck did I just get myself into?" he said through his hands. Honey pulled his hands down from his face and climbed up in his lap, putting his arms around her and looping her arms around his neck. "Zach; I have been a very good girl; not just this year, but for a long, long time. I figure that makes it so I can ask for something really big. So, here's what I want: I want you and me; just being together. Not planned or rehearsed or trying to be impressive. You already impress me. You're the best person I know. You took care of me when you hated me. You took care of me, even when I hated you. I just want to see what it's like if we let go of all that and just; you know; love. Will you give me that for Christmas, Santa? Please?" she asked, leaning in and kissing his cheek softly. "I've; never done that before," he said stiffly, looking sideways at her, unable to turn his head. "I'll be gentle with you," she whispered, smiling and brushing her lips against his. Climbing down from his lap, she took his hand in hers and led him up the stairs; until he lost patience with her hobbling and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the top. Honey smiled as he gently lowered her feet to the floor, then took his hand and worked on the buttons of his cuff, "You're really big, but you don't do that big guy thing where you act like nothing matters. You notice everything; I like that," she said, glancing up at him. Zach frowned, watching her and then looking around the room, uncomfortable. "That's just; you gotta do that. You can't just throw your weight around without knowing where it's going. You're gonna hurt someone that way," he demurred, unbuttoning the cuff for her and tugging the other loose, as well. "You give a lot, but you're not a show-off about it; you didn't even let me know it wasn't Gatsby's sending food to me," she said, pulling his shirt down off his shoulders, pressing her face into his back to smell him. "You needed protein, calcium, and vitamin D to build those bones again -- that ramen shit you eat wasn't gonna give you enough of anything; just empty carbs and fuckin' sodium," he argued, putting his hands on his hips and scowling at her. Honey smiled and nodded, unbuckling his belt and slowly pulling it out of the loops. Zach swallowed, "You; you also needed vitamins C and K, so I made sure you got things like broccoli and fish and citrus; not; not everybody knows that," he said, drawing a shaky breath. "I didn't know that," she said, separating the hook and eye of his trousers and unzipping them, smiling when he cleared his throat and breathed faster as she lowered them. "You're smart, but you don't need everyone to know about it. You watch how people treat you when they think you're simple, instead; you want to know who they really are." Zach pulled his legs out of his trousers and laid them carefully over the chair, glancing over to the closet where he really wanted to put them instead. Honey smirked and turned to go get a hanger for him, and he swept her down onto the bed instead, going to get the hanger for himself and carefully hanging his pants to avoid any creases. Zach returned to the bed, standing in front of her knees where she sat, waiting. Honey moved her hands curiously over his hips and thighs, feeling the strength, the hours of toil and exertion he put them through; so that he could have control and be gentle when he needed to be. "You care about what I want; she said, swallowing and slowly sliding his underwear down his hips, gasping in surprise when his cock bounced out and waved at her. "You care about it even when you think I'm wrong; and it makes me love you so much; she said, trailing off and blushing. "You; got my clothes off," he said, looking down at her, his face a mix of bewilderment and wonder. "I guess you see all of me, now," he said, blushing for the first time since she'd known him. Smiling, she pulled her dress over her head and tossed it aside. She winced, reaching back trying to un-do her bra, and instead of helping her as usual, Zach narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. "You do that on purpose, don't you? Doing shit that hurts right in front of me instead of asking me for help. Showing off that fucking bruise to me at the club. Showing me what happens when I can't take care of you; you actually get off on driving me crazy," he said in outraged realization. "You really want to do that rough sex stuff on me, now, don't you," Honey said, her eyes alive with mischief. "Like you wouldn't believe; he said, flipping her over, straddling her back and unclasping her bra. Honey squealed and giggled when he laid himself out over her back, careful to avoid her shoulder and ankle. "You feel that cock, all hard and ready on your panties and between your legs down there? You don't get him now, brat," he growled, pushing her hair aside and biting the back of her neck. "Not until you beg me." "Okay! Please?" she asked, giggling. Zach looked over at her, trying to hold a stern face, "Yeah, that's not how this works. The way this works is, I make you want it so much that you think you're going out of your mind, and *then* you beg me." "Okay!" she chirped. "Oh, fucking hell; he grumbled, trying not to laugh. He nipped all over her back, enjoying her squeaks and gasps, wiggling under him as her need grew. She seemed completely unaware of how she was responding to him, but he proudly basked in her every flutter. He kissed down to the small of her back, hearing her breath stop and then resume at a pant when he began to lower her panties. "Zach; Zach; Honey whimpered. "Yes, Honey?" he smiled, kissing the top of the crease of her bottom, flicking it slightly with his tongue. "Does it; does it always go this slow?" she asked, raising her bottom to him and moaning when he slid his fingers through her crack, making her jump and then grab onto his thigh. "Are you in a hurry?" he murmured, stroking his fingers leisurely around her clit and into her vagina, "Some other pressing; engagement?" he asked, pressing his finger against her hymen and laughing evilly at her shocked, yet needful, reaction. "Yeah; it would feel good to have a hot deep cock in there, wouldn't it?" he asked, thrusting gently into her with his finger. "Zach; Honey moaned, squirming under him. "I like that word 'engagement; '" Zach mused idly, "don't you?" he asked, raising one of her knees up to her side, sliding his cock along her crack, wetting it until it glistened in her juices. "Zach, please; please; please; she gasped, feeling him rise up over her again, pressing against her entry, "I need you; she whispered. "I need you, too, Honey. I've needed you for so long; he answered, parting her lips and moving into her with slow, gentle thrusts. Honey trembled under him, holding her breath, feeling him fill her more and more, until with a slight sharp pain, she took him into her. "Oh; oh; oh; oh; she whimpered. "Just breathe, Honey. You're doing great; perfect. I'm not moving till you're ready," Zach said, reaching deep for control. A sheen of sweat broke over him at the sheer effort of holding himself back from plunging furiously into her body again and again and again. "Is; is this the rough sex part?" she breathed, reaching out to touch the hand he was using to keep most of his weight off her. Zach barked out a breathless laugh, clasping her hand in his, "I don't know about you, but this is about as rough as I can take it, tonight. You're fucking killing me, right now. But, being inside you; it's like magic." Honey moved her head and kissed his forearm, "Be inside me again, Zach; she whispered. With a low sigh, he began moving inside her, his hips pressing and rolling against her, his cock stroking a patient rhythm. She sighed with happiness, feeling him explore and claim her at the same time. His lips moved over her neck and back as he leisurely took her, whispering praise and encouragements, waiting for her to adjust to him. Before long, though, his words stopped, his body growing harder around her, his every muscle stiffening as he gripped her hand harder, his thrusts quickening until, with a soft, surprised grunt, he thrust deep and shook as he emptied himself inside her. With explosive breaths, he rolled off her, pulling her against him in the bed. "Well, fuck; he said in disgust between gasps. "Yeah; Honey said, snuggling back against him happily, "that was perfect; Zach snorted, "No it wasn't, you noob. You didn't come. I fucked it up." "What do you mean? What makes you think I didn't come? That felt great! Let's do that all the time," Honey said, turning in his arms so she could smile at him. "I would've felt it if you came, Honey; it gets tight and squeezes you, almost like it's sucking on you; drinking you down; he said, smiling down at her with rueful affection. "Well, I don't know how it's supposed to get any tighter than that was. I think you're expecting too much of me. Maybe I did come; she argued. "Honey, trust me; when I make you come, you'll know about it," he said, reaching down and caressing her clit with his fingers. "Oh, that's nice; you did that in the shower," Honey cooed, moving her boot up over his hips so he could reach her more easily. "I didn't fucking do this to you in the shower. I fucking washed you. I was a fucking gentleman. People cut diamonds with less fucking focus than I had in that fucking shower. I was just taking care of business, then," he grumbled, leaning down to nuzzle her neck. "I guess; I guess, I took advantage of you, then; s-sorry; oh; she said, raising her hips to him as her breathing became irregular, her head tossing from side to side. "Well, unless I'm wrong, you are about to really pay for it in 3, 2, 1" Zach said, when Honey screamed high and long, her hips bucking as she came hard, covering his hand in her sweet nectar and then bursting into tears. Zach held her close as Honey wailed in pain, stroking her body gently, "Yeah; see, that boot can do a lot, but it can't do squat about it when every muscle in your body wants to stiffen up as you come," he said, still soothing her. Honey slapped his shoulder, "That; that was mean! Don't you ever make me come again!" she panted against him, her face still twisted in slowly receding pain. "Uh huh; Zach said, glancing at the alarm clock on his nightstand, "we'll see how long that lasts, you little freak," he said with a smirk, leaning down to kiss her tears away.  To be continued in part 3, Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Elf on a Shelf: Part 2 Life in hob-along mode. Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. When she woke the next morning, Zach was standing next to the bed with a pain pill and a glass of water. "Terry's gonna be here in about half an hour. I could make you some breakfast?" he said, putting the pill and the water into her hand. Honey shook her head, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I'd; I'd like to take a shower before I go; if that's okay," she asked. "Right; uh; I'll just set it up for you. I'll get your things together after you're done in there; if you still want to go, that is; Honey closed her eyes and nodded, "Thank you," she whispered, unable to look at the silent pleading in his face. When the shower was ready, Zach carried her down the stairs and set her down in his large walk-in shower on the bathing chair he'd set up for her. "I, uh; I warmed up the water. The; soap and shampoo stuff is right here," he said, gesturing to a collection of bottles put down within her reach. "If you need anything, I'll be right; right here," he said, sitting down on the toilet, looking like he didn't know what to do with his hands. Honey nodded and took off her nightgown and panties, putting them on the floor outside the shower. She leaned down and began unwrapping the velcro the straps on her boot, finding that she couldn't reach the last one. She opened her mouth to ask for help, but Zach was already sliding the door open to undo it for her. When he disassembled the boot around her foot and lifted it away, a slight whimper escaped her when the motion bumped her ankle slightly. Zach's eyes flashed to hers as she tried to cover herself with her arms, "I'm okay," she whispered. Clenching his jaw, Zach nodded, stood and left the stall. The water felt like heaven after the sad sponge baths she had given herself in bed. Her skin came alive in the heat and flushed a deep pink. "Is that too hot? You're getting red," Zach said, standing next to the door looking concerned. "No; it's perfect," she sighed. She twisted around to reach the shampoo and tipped it over, groaning as she watched it roll out of reach. Zach reached into the stall and returned it to her, growling in annoyance as he watched her try to squeeze some out with only one fully functional arm. Soon, he stepped into the shower with her, clad only in his underwear. "I don't know how you think you're going to do this by yourself; he grumbled, glaring at her as he massaged the shampoo into her long hair. "I'll figure it out; put a folding chair in the tub or something," she said, trying not to notice that the fabric of his underwear was leaving nothing to the imagination the wetter it got. "A fucking folding chair will slip. I'll send this one with you. You still can't reach shit, though." "I haven't done this before. I'll get better as I go." "Yeah, but until then, you'll; Look, you need to give me a call when you; so that I know you're okay." "You wouldn't be able to hear me talk; the water makes this growling noise," she said. "Well, why the fu; never mind. You call me before and after. No longer than 10 minutes, or I send Terry." "And he just does whatever you tell him? You're really kinda bossy." "Glad we sorted that out. Put your head back." With a smirk, Honey leaned back, letting him support her with his arm as he rinsed the shampoo out of her hair. After one minute, Zach began swearing under his breath. "I've been rinsing this shit out of your hair forever and there's still more! How the fuck is this possible?" Honey began giggling, despite the pain it caused her shoulder. "I guess you should allow me longer than 10 minutes to shower, then; she murmured. "Ten fucking minutes, or I send Terry." "Do you have any conditioner?" "Any what?" "Never mind," Honey said, trying to control her face. When he finally released her from being rinsed, Honey grabbed the loofa and put some body wash on it, washing what she could reach with her right arm while Zach glared down at her. "Oh, for fuck's sake," he grated, roughly taking the fluffy sponge from her and then washing her with surprising gentleness. When he delicately supported and washed her broken ankle, he waited until he finished before looking up at her, "Remember, doctor says you can take off your boot for a while now and then, so that should help with the smell. I'll pack the extra sock so you can put a clean one on and wash the; well, just how the fuck are you going to do the laundry?" he asked, as if she created the concept of dirty laundry just to bother him. "Hand wash?" she suggested. "That won't work for these boot socks! They smell like gangrene or some shi;" "Well, now you're just flirting; she said, smiling up at him. For a moment Zach's face went completely blank, his eyes slowly traveling down her naked body as his face turned bright red, then he turned away and cursed under his breath again. "Grab onto my arm and I'll finish you up," he said, clenching his jaw and holding out his forearm to her, as he diligently looked away. Cautiously, she took his arm and tried to stand, rising wobbly on her left leg. Before she could gain her balance, her hand slipped on his wet arm and he pulled her tightly against him before she could fall. Body to body, they clung on to each other in the hot spray, each of them shaking. "Honey; you may notta noticed, but I'm hanging on by a fucking thread, here," Zach said quietly in her ear, "Try not to get yourself killed for two seconds." Honey nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist so that he could move his arms again. She felt him move the loofah between her legs and begin washing her private area, looking around the shower stall as he did. When Honey cringed and her breath hissed between her teeth, he stopped, "What's wrong?" he asked, looking down at her face. "It's; rough; she said, quietly. "Yeah, but it was fine when; oh; right; sensitive. Okay; he said, swallowing as he tossed the loofah aside and hesitantly reached his fingers between her legs. Honey leaned her forehead on his chest and closed her eyes, gasping when his fingers made contact. "Is that; is that okay?" he asked. She nodded and tried to move her legs further apart for him. Zach gently washed her, trying to think of sports scores, laxative commercials, or the accounts payable at the club, but inevitably his cock noticed that he was holding the woman of his dreams naked in his arms. When she shifted against him, trying to keep her balance, a breathy grunt escaped him as she inadvertently rubbed against him. "I'm sorry; she whispered, trying to give him more room. "Don't be; you're perfect; it's fine; he said, trying to think about anything but how it would feel to slide his cock between her slippery lips right at that moment. "Let me just get the; water; he gritted, reaching for the shower sprayer and directing it between her legs. Honey gasped and whimpered as the water pulsed against her clit, down her labia and over her anus again and again, feeling Zach's eyes on her as he did it, intensely absorbing her every reaction. She trembled as she held on to him, trying to remain calm. Finally, she raised her eyes up to him and opened her wet lips and whispered, "Zach; ?" "Hey, how do you guys want your eggs?" Terry asked, sticking his head into the bathroom. "Get The Fuck Out Of Here, Maggot!" Zach roared, as Honey squealed and released him, quickly ducking down to where Terry couldn't see her on the shower chair. "Scrambled, it is," Terry said, ducking out of the bathroom and leaving them alone again. Zach watched Honey begin to shiver as the room cooled off and handed her a towel. "Let me know when you're dry and I'll wrap up your leg again," he said, looking around the bathroom uncomfortably before wrapping a towel around his waist and taking off his wet underwear from underneath. After securing her ankle in the air cast, Zach carried her back up to the bedroom, turned his back to her, and blocked Terry's kitchen view of the loft as Honey dressed. When she finished, Zach turned around again, his mouth hardening into a grim line when he saw she had put on her elf dress again. "You're; going, then," he said, frowning as he watched her wince at the pain in her shoulder as she tried to tie the thick red ribbon belt behind her back. He stepped behind her and took the belt out of her hands and began brusquely tying it. "I want you to stay," he said to the back of her head, tugging the loops into a tight knot. Honey hobbled around to face him, "Enough to tell me why you wanted to send that message to someone?" she asked him, her dark blue eyes somber. "You; you wouldn't want to stay if I did," he murmured, stroking the soft velvet covering her arms. "Then, I guess I should go," she said, looking away before she could start crying again. "Wow, nice apartment!" Terry said, following Honey inside her apartment with the bag of her clothes. "The blood stains really bring the room together; "Say what you will, it's all mine," she said, hobbling over to the sofa and curling up, exhausted. "Here's your mail. I gotta text Zach, he's going nuts; well, more than usual, anyway," he said, handing her a stack of envelopes. "Arrived at hellhole; Angel has typhoid; the tweakers give their love; send food stamps," he said aloud, typing into his phone as Honey went through her mail. "Let me go set up the bath chair; just the thing to class up the joint," he said, disappearing to the bathroom. When Terry returned, he found Honey white as a sheet, reading a letter. "Whoa, kid; you okay? Need a pain pill? Let me take you back to Zach's. You look like you really do have typhoid; he said, kneeling down next to her. "Um; yeah, I'm fine," she said faintly, then cleared her throat. "Would; would you mind taking that laptop with you when you go deliver the charity gifts to the firm? They; asked me to send it back; probably upgrading; she said, quickly wiping the tears off her cheeks. Terry watched her for a long moment, his face grim, and don't mention it to Zach?" he finished. "Um; probably not?" Honey choked. "Ah, Honey; you have hospital bills. This is where a sensible person starts telling themself, 'Hey self, maybe I should go back to that really great guy that wants to take care of me," Terry said, closing her laptop and wrapping the power cord around it. "If he's such a great guy, why does he send people messages like this?" she asked, holding up the screenshot to him. After staring at the screen for a while, Terry let out a low whistle, "Now, see, Zach just puts it right out there. You gotta respect that. No wonder he got so much ass. He send this to you?" "He said he meant to send it to someone else, but what are you talking about? He sent this to me on our first date when he went to the restroom! I thought he wanted to kill me!" Terry canted his head and looked at the screenshot again, "Oh; yeah, I could see that. Especially if you got it without the dick pic," he said, nodding sympathetically. "No, see, this was sort of a sex S O S, if you will. A guy goes out with a girl like you, it's like a high-wire act. He gets all wound up, needs to blow off some steam, sends out a flare hoping someone can help him take the edge off things so you don't find out what a high-strung, rough sex freak he is. You're a big deal. He just didn't want to scare you off, Angel," Terry explained. "He; he wanted to go have sex with someone else after our date??" Honey yelled, incensed. "Only because he *liked* you so much!" Terry argued, winsomely. Just then, Honey's phone rang in his hand and he tapped the screen, "Honey's phone!" he answered. "Don't Ever Talk To Me Again!" Honey yelled at her phone when she saw it was Zach's number. "Ah yeah?" Terry said, holding the phone to his ear. "Yeah. Right. Be right over," he said, disconnecting the call and handing the phone back to Honey. "What did he say?" Honey asked, grinding her teeth. Terry leaned over and flipped her phone back to the screenshot that had frightened her so much, "Yeah; pretty much that; just without the sex. See you when I get out of the hospital, kid," he sighed. During the next week, Honey took a bus to the city hall offices and applied for unemployment, used the library computers to send out her resume and read her email, and got no calls whatsoever from Zach. Gatsby's, however, started having trouble with their delivery service and three meals a day were accidentally delivered to her disreputable apartment. When she called Gatsby's about it, she was assured they were working on it and were sure to fix the delivery service problem; as soon as they got a delivery service. The following week, Honey got a knock at her door. Promising herself she would open the door only for the pleasure of slamming it shut in the visitor's stupid, handsome face, Honey hobbled up and looked through the peep hole. It wasn't who she expected, though. "Um, hi; she said, opening the door a bit and tightening her robe. "Hi Honey, I'm Jeff. You probably don't remember;" "I remember you," Honey said, opening the door wider. "Please come in." "Thank you," he said, coming in and standing with his coat over his arm as she hobbled back to the couch. "Jeff, I always wanted to call Gatsby's and thank you; you know, for what you did," Honey said. "For the 'angel shot.' I didn't realize I was on a date with the owner, at the time. I hope it didn't make trouble for you," she said. "You're kidding, right? He fired me on the spot," Jeff laughed. "Oh no; she said, covering her face with her hands. "Oh, I'm so sorry." "No, it's okay. He hired me back as a manager a couple weeks ago. Said anyone who had the balls to do what it took to protect you, even from him, that was someone he wanted taking care of his customers. Actually said that, looking back, if you had been scared enough to ask someone for help back then and they *didn't* help you, well, he'd probably want to go find them and; and; well, the details don't matter, and they're probably illegal, anyway. The point is, we're good." "Oh, that's; that's good to hear. Is this about the delivery service problem, then?" "We don't have a delivery service." "Well, yeah, I know. I mean the meals that Zach is making you send me." "Um; I'm probably going to get my life threatened for telling you this, but we're not sending you meals. Zach's popping in and out with a lot of takeout boxes under his arm, but Gatsby's isn't sending you any meals, Honey. That's; that's all Zach." "Oh; Honey said, her cheeks warming. "Yeah, no I came to ask if you'd be interested in a job." Honey laughed, "I appreciate it, but don't think I'd make much of a waitress right now." "Actually, I kinda had something else in mind; Honey's heart pounded as the music swelled and she felt the platform descend, her legs dangling down clad in candy cane striped stockings and curled-toe shoes. Her dress was the same pink velvet and white fur trim costume as before, but the fabric was far more luscious and expensive than the dress she'd worn in the mall. It had arrived at her door with a seamstress tasked with making it fit flawlessly. Honey's eyes were closed out of habit, getting ready to sing for the clientele of the great room as Gatsby's "Elf on a Shelf." She knew he was out there. He always came out of hiding when she sang. A smile curled across her face as she felt the spotlight warm her body. She opened her eyes. After the show, Honey stripped off her tights and a stage hand gave her the air cast as soon as the platform had risen out of sight. Gingerly, she eased her leg back into the boot and began strapping herself in again. As she reached the last fastener, two large hands took the straps out of hers and began wrapping them expertly. Honey blushed and looked aside as Zach did it, and tried not to roll her eyes when he checked the other two straps to be sure she had secured them properly. His eyes wandered over her with nervous adoration, like he still couldn't quite convince himself she was real; even after the mundane work of feeding her, dressing her, and cleaning her all those days up in his loft. "Did you like the show?" she asked quietly, looking up at him with a small smile. Zach sighed with relief, having received tacit permission to speak to her again. "Yes," he said. "Did you really like it?" she asked, her eyes twinkling, her smile growing bigger. "I really; really liked it," Zach said, nodding and pulling at the collar of the dress shirt that was having trouble containing him. He seemed to have only grown larger in their weeks apart. "So much that you want to go have rough sex with somebody else tonight?" she asked, her large and deceptively innocent, twinkling eyes skewering him. Zach's mouth set, "I; I don't do that anymore. I exercise," he said quietly, reddening and looking away from her. "Oh; I see," Honey said, nodding. Ignoring the hands he offered her, Honey rolled herself onto her good knee and clumsily pushed herself back up into a standing position, her skirt flashing him as she rose. "What the fuck is that?" Zach yelled, pulling her skirt up to where a large purpling bruise was blooming on her hip. Honey bit her lips and forced her face to stop grinning before she turned and faced him again. "What's what?" she asked innocently. "What the hell do you think? That fucking huge purple ass-shiner you're walking around with! Where the fuck did that come from?" he roared. "Oh, that? I slipped. You know, it's icy out there; she said brightly, patting his chest and hobbling past him to her dressing room. Zach clenched his hands and followed her, growling things under his breath that would make a sailor blush. She wobbled into the dressing room, leaving the door open behind her, wondering if he would follow her in. He didn't, but instead stood there in the doorway glowering at her like a gargoyle as she pulled some clothes out of a large Gatsby's takeout bag. Honey's ribs were beginning to hurt from trying not to laugh. Honey breath hissed through her teeth as she reached behind her, fumbling with the knot of her wide red ribbon belt, her shoulder still healing from the dislocation. Before long, she heard muttered curses and large feet stomp into the room and push her hands aside, untying the belt for her. She smiled her thanks up at him over her shoulder, and moved her hair aside so he could help her with the zipper. Carefully, he smoothed some more of her hairs aside and slowly lowered the clasp. "So, um; how would it have worked?" she asked quietly, the softness of her voice making him lean in to hear her. Zach cleared his throat, "How would what have worked?" he asked, his breath falling warm on her neck as he tried to unclasp the tiny hook at top of the dress with his large fingers. "If we'd gotten together that night; if I'd never got that message," she said. Zach closed his eyes and shook his head. "I would've taken you home. Maybe tried for a kiss at your door, if you looked like you wanted it," he said, his voice hoarse. "Cheek or lips?" she asked. He sighed, "Who am I kidding? I would've passed out from not breathing by the time I got that close." "And those; other things; would you have wanted to do those things to me? To hurt me; to scare me?" she asked, her voice shaking. Zach turned her to look her in the eye, and she wrapped her arms around herself, keeping the unzipped, loose elf dress from falling down. "No Honey," he swore, shaking his head emphatically, cupping her face and holding her tightly. "God no. Never. Never ever. I would've never let you see that side of me. I'd give it up. I gave it up. I'd go run ten miles before I even;" his impassioned vows were interrupted by a loud crack as a delicate hand slapped him across the face. "How dare you?" Honey said, trembling with fury before she winced and cradled her hand to her chest as Zach blinked slowly in disbelief, trying to process what had happened. "That's for deciding you'd just have a boring, unsatisfied sex life with me without even asking what I wanted, you; you overbearing ass! That's for offering only a part of yourself to me! That's for ruining our beautiful date because you were ashamed of the man I lo;" Honey's uncharacteristic rage was interrupted by Zach's mouth descending on hers and claiming it furiously, pressing her against the wall as her dress fell to the floor. The kiss ended almost as quickly as it began, and Zach pulled away from her, his face a twitching, terrifying storm as he stared down at her. He wrapped his hand around the slender wrist of her only functional arm and pressed it to the wall over her head. "You don't hit me like that; ever," he said quietly, breathing hard through flared nostrils. Honey trembled, staring up into his blazing eyes almost panting against him in terror; but also in something else. The corner of Zach's mouth curled when he saw her deep blue eyes dilate hugely, a heady, familiar scent rising up between them. "You don't fucking hit anyone like that; goddamn amateur. You wanna break your wrist? Jesus Christ. Get your ass dressed and I'll take you home, you little freak," he growled, turning around to give her privacy and hide the huge smile he couldn't stop from covering his face. When Honey came up panting for air, she was pressed against the wall of Zach's loft as he fumbled with the locks of his door with one hand. She was making good progress at getting his shirt off, but it kept bunching up around his arms, and the cuffs were still a problem she didn't even want to think about. Even so, she was blissfully occupied with the acres of warm bare skin and muscle that she had excavated. "This isn't my home; she said, looking around bewildered, "why does everyone get my address wrong?" "Probably because they've blocked it out after seeing your place. Shut up and tell me what you want," Zach said, carrying her over to the stairs until he saw a bit of her lower lip he needed to bite and had to take a break to do it properly. "Look, don't give me names, because then I'd have to kill 'em, but tell me what makes you hot, Honey; we're gonna do all of it and more. I'm making your dreams come true, tonight," he said, winding his hand in her hair as she dropped her head back to give him her neck. "Oh! Um; I liked it when;" "No names," he reminded her, covering her mouth. "Right; well, this one guy, he um; he wore a towel around his waist and bent over his dresser to look for his underwear? And this other time, he held this spoon out to me and I opened my mouth and he fed me. And; and; um; in the shower, he; he held me against him in the water and;" "Honey, are all these stories gonna be about me?" "Um; yeah?" "That's sweet of you, tryin' to keep me outta jail and all, but I need you to get to the part about cock and pussy. Stories about me aren't gonna help that. Cock, pussy, tongue, ass, tits, ears, neck, taint - what do you like?" he asked "Right; uh; I liked it when you washed me down there; my pussy; with your fingers?" Honey said, at a loss. Zach drew his head back from her neck and looked at her, his face growing uneasy. "Honey?" "And when you sprayed the water back and forth down there, especially the top bump part, that really made me feel amazing, kind of squirmy, you know?" "Oh Jesus; he said, looking as if he'd been hit in the head. "And um; I know I wasn't supposed to look, but your um; you know; p-penis; in the shower, when your underwear got wet? That was" "I don't feel so good; he said, lowering himself to the floor and sitting down on the stairs. "No, no, it's fine. We can do this. What's a taint and what do I do with it?" she asked, sitting down and cuddling up next to him. Zach held his head in his hands, "You're a virgin; not like an "everything but" Evangelical, but like an alien or something. I don't know if I can do this." "Look, I know how to have sex; I had health class, for Pete's sake!" she said, slapping his shoulder. "What the fuck did I just get myself into?" he said through his hands. Honey pulled his hands down from his face and climbed up in his lap, putting his arms around her and looping her arms around his neck. "Zach; I have been a very good girl; not just this year, but for a long, long time. I figure that makes it so I can ask for something really big. So, here's what I want: I want you and me; just being together. Not planned or rehearsed or trying to be impressive. You already impress me. You're the best person I know. You took care of me when you hated me. You took care of me, even when I hated you. I just want to see what it's like if we let go of all that and just; you know; love. Will you give me that for Christmas, Santa? Please?" she asked, leaning in and kissing his cheek softly. "I've; never done that before," he said stiffly, looking sideways at her, unable to turn his head. "I'll be gentle with you," she whispered, smiling and brushing her lips against his. Climbing down from his lap, she took his hand in hers and led him up the stairs; until he lost patience with her hobbling and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the top. Honey smiled as he gently lowered her feet to the floor, then took his hand and worked on the buttons of his cuff, "You're really big, but you don't do that big guy thing where you act like nothing matters. You notice everything; I like that," she said, glancing up at him. Zach frowned, watching her and then looking around the room, uncomfortable. "That's just; you gotta do that. You can't just throw your weight around without knowing where it's going. You're gonna hurt someone that way," he demurred, unbuttoning the cuff for her and tugging the other loose, as well. "You give a lot, but you're not a show-off about it; you didn't even let me know it wasn't Gatsby's sending food to me," she said, pulling his shirt down off his shoulders, pressing her face into his back to smell him. "You needed protein, calcium, and vitamin D to build those bones again -- that ramen shit you eat wasn't gonna give you enough of anything; just empty carbs and fuckin' sodium," he argued, putting his hands on his hips and scowling at her. Honey smiled and nodded, unbuckling his belt and slowly pulling it out of the loops. Zach swallowed, "You; you also needed vitamins C and K, so I made sure you got things like broccoli and fish and citrus; not; not everybody knows that," he said, drawing a shaky breath. "I didn't know that," she said, separating the hook and eye of his trousers and unzipping them, smiling when he cleared his throat and breathed faster as she lowered them. "You're smart, but you don't need everyone to know about it. You watch how people treat you when they think you're simple, instead; you want to know who they really are." Zach pulled his legs out of his trousers and laid them carefully over the chair, glancing over to the closet where he really wanted to put them instead. Honey smirked and turned to go get a hanger for him, and he swept her down onto the bed instead, going to get the hanger for himself and carefully hanging his pants to avoid any creases. Zach returned to the bed, standing in front of her knees where she sat, waiting. Honey moved her hands curiously over his hips and thighs, feeling the strength, the hours of toil and exertion he put them through; so that he could have control and be gentle when he needed to be. "You care about what I want; she said, swallowing and slowly sliding his underwear down his hips, gasping in surprise when his cock bounced out and waved at her. "You care about it even when you think I'm wrong; and it makes me love you so much; she said, trailing off and blushing. "You; got my clothes off," he said, looking down at her, his face a mix of bewilderment and wonder. "I guess you see all of me, now," he said, blushing for the first time since she'd known him. Smiling, she pulled her dress over her head and tossed it aside. She winced, reaching back trying to un-do her bra, and instead of helping her as usual, Zach narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. "You do that on purpose, don't you? Doing shit that hurts right in front of me instead of asking me for help. Showing off that fucking bruise to me at the club. Showing me what happens when I can't take care of you; you actually get off on driving me crazy," he said in outraged realization. "You really want to do that rough sex stuff on me, now, don't you," Honey said, her eyes alive with mischief. "Like you wouldn't believe; he said, flipping her over, straddling her back and unclasping her bra. Honey squealed and giggled when he laid himself out over her back, careful to avoid her shoulder and ankle. "You feel that cock, all hard and ready on your panties and between your legs down there? You don't get him now, brat," he growled, pushing her hair aside and biting the back of her neck. "Not until you beg me." "Okay! Please?" she asked, giggling. Zach looked over at her, trying to hold a stern face, "Yeah, that's not how this works. The way this works is, I make you want it so much that you think you're going out of your mind, and *then* you beg me." "Okay!" she chirped. "Oh, fucking hell; he grumbled, trying not to laugh. He nipped all over her back, enjoying her squeaks and gasps, wiggling under him as her need grew. She seemed completely unaware of how she was responding to him, but he proudly basked in her every flutter. He kissed down to the small of her back, hearing her breath stop and then resume at a pant when he began to lower her panties. "Zach; Zach; Honey whimpered. "Yes, Honey?" he smiled, kissing the top of the crease of her bottom, flicking it slightly with his tongue. "Does it; does it always go this slow?" she asked, raising her bottom to him and moaning when he slid his fingers through her crack, making her jump and then grab onto his thigh. "Are you in a hurry?" he murmured, stroking his fingers leisurely around her clit and into her vagina, "Some other pressing; engagement?" he asked, pressing his finger against her hymen and laughing evilly at her shocked, yet needful, reaction. "Yeah; it would feel good to have a hot deep cock in there, wouldn't it?" he asked, thrusting gently into her with his finger. "Zach; Honey moaned, squirming under him. "I like that word 'engagement; '" Zach mused idly, "don't you?" he asked, raising one of her knees up to her side, sliding his cock along her crack, wetting it until it glistened in her juices. "Zach, please; please; please; she gasped, feeling him rise up over her again, pressing against her entry, "I need you; she whispered. "I need you, too, Honey. I've needed you for so long; he answered, parting her lips and moving into her with slow, gentle thrusts. Honey trembled under him, holding her breath, feeling him fill her more and more, until with a slight sharp pain, she took him into her. "Oh; oh; oh; oh; she whimpered. "Just breathe, Honey. You're doing great; perfect. I'm not moving till you're ready," Zach said, reaching deep for control. A sheen of sweat broke over him at the sheer effort of holding himself back from plunging furiously into her body again and again and again. "Is; is this the rough sex part?" she breathed, reaching out to touch the hand he was using to keep most of his weight off her. Zach barked out a breathless laugh, clasping her hand in his, "I don't know about you, but this is about as rough as I can take it, tonight. You're fucking killing me, right now. But, being inside you; it's like magic." Honey moved her head and kissed his forearm, "Be inside me again, Zach; she whispered. With a low sigh, he began moving inside her, his hips pressing and rolling against her, his cock stroking a patient rhythm. She sighed with happiness, feeling him explore and claim her at the same time. His lips moved over her neck and back as he leisurely took her, whispering praise and encouragements, waiting for her to adjust to him. Before long, though, his words stopped, his body growing harder around her, his every muscle stiffening as he gripped her hand harder, his thrusts quickening until, with a soft, surprised grunt, he thrust deep and shook as he emptied himself inside her. With explosive breaths, he rolled off her, pulling her against him in the bed. "Well, fuck; he said in disgust between gasps. "Yeah; Honey said, snuggling back against him happily, "that was perfect; Zach snorted, "No it wasn't, you noob. You didn't come. I fucked it up." "What do you mean? What makes you think I didn't come? That felt great! Let's do that all the time," Honey said, turning in his arms so she could smile at him. "I would've felt it if you came, Honey; it gets tight and squeezes you, almost like it's sucking on you; drinking you down; he said, smiling down at her with rueful affection. "Well, I don't know how it's supposed to get any tighter than that was. I think you're expecting too much of me. Maybe I did come; she argued. "Honey, trust me; when I make you come, you'll know about it," he said, reaching down and caressing her clit with his fingers. "Oh, that's nice; you did that in the shower," Honey cooed, moving her boot up over his hips so he could reach her more easily. "I didn't fucking do this to you in the shower. I fucking washed you. I was a fucking gentleman. People cut diamonds with less fucking focus than I had in that fucking shower. I was just taking care of business, then," he grumbled, leaning down to nuzzle her neck. "I guess; I guess, I took advantage of you, then; s-sorry; oh; she said, raising her hips to him as her breathing became irregular, her head tossing from side to side. "Well, unless I'm wrong, you are about to really pay for it in 3, 2, 1" Zach said, when Honey screamed high and long, her hips bucking as she came hard, covering his hand in her sweet nectar and then bursting into tears. Zach held her close as Honey wailed in pain, stroking her body gently, "Yeah; see, that boot can do a lot, but it can't do squat about it when every muscle in your body wants to stiffen up as you come," he said, still soothing her. Honey slapped his shoulder, "That; that was mean! Don't you ever make me come again!" she panted against him, her face still twisted in slowly receding pain. "Uh huh; Zach said, glancing at the alarm clock on his nightstand, "we'll see how long that lasts, you little freak," he said with a smirk, leaning down to kiss her tears away.  To be continued in part 3, Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Elf on a Shelf: Part 1 Her stalker wasn't who she thought he was; Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Honey smiled at the long line of children waiting to see Santa, flipping her phone from Google Translate back to see the information of the next little girl in line, who was looking up at her somberly with large liquid brown eyes. In her small face was a familiar mixture of fear and hope. Wonder; it was wonder in her eyes, Honey thought. Unlike the tired and jaded adults, dutifully shifting their weight from foot to foot, holding overstuffed shopping bags and all the coats of their kids as they distracted themselves on their phones, the children got more and more excited as they drew near the man in the furry red suit with white trim. Honey loved working with the children; because like them, she sometimes could still see the magic. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Norman shift uncomfortably in the painted plywood throne made for him to sit with the children and discuss their good behavior and of the wishes that they hoped would come true. Even at age 62, Norman still saw the magic with his merry bright blue eyes, but it faded when his prostate pained him. When the photographer got the shot the parent wanted, Honey walked to where most of the long line could see her as Norman flashed her a look of worshipful gratitude. The adults' faces immediately fell, knowing what was coming. "I'm afraid Santa needs to take a quick break because apparently the reindeer have begun arguing again!" Norman put his gloved hands up to his real beard, pulled a comically dismayed face, jumped up from his throne, and ran off toward the restrooms. Honey shook her head mournfully and continued, "The reindeer were all practicing their Christmas carols when Comet and Cupid couldn't decide how many times Santa checks his list in Santa Claus is Coming to Town! Does anyone here remember how it goes?" she asked, scanning the line for people game enough to help. Honey scampered back and forth along the line trying to choose among the eager volunteers, her white-trimmed, pink fur skirt flaring out around her thighs, her long legs clad in sparkly curly-toed ruby slippers and candy cane swirl stockings catching the eyes of several fathers. Suddenly, she gasped listening carefully to her headset, "Nina?" she called out. "Comet and Cupid say they will only stop arguing if 'Nina' gives the answer. Is there a 'Nina' here today? Nina?" Honey looked around at the crowd carefully until the little girl with the big brown eyes, who had been quietly waiting 57 minutes in line, gathered the courage to raise her hand. "Oh! Are you Nina?" she asked, running over and crouching down near the girl. "We just adopted her; she only speaks Portuguese," the weary woman holding her hand said quietly. Honey gasped and smiled widely, "Voc fala portugu s Nina? Maravilhosa!" she said, watching the little girl's eyes brighten excitedly. "Voc pode me dizer quantas vezes o Papai Noel verifica sua lista?" she asked, holding her microphone out to the little girl. "Duas vezes!" Nina said confidently into the mic. Honey listened carefully to her headset, concentrating, "'Duas vezes' it is! They've stopped arguing!" she announced. "But now, they want us all to sing the song in Portuguese! Nina, voc vai me ajudar a ensin -los a m sica?" she asked. Nina nodded and slowly she and Honey taught the familiar song to the crowd in a new language. As always, a hush came on the crowd when Honey began to sing. Heads raised up from forgotten phones. Vague smiles drifted onto the turning heads of passers-by in the mall as they paused in their frenetic search for gifts. It wasn't so much that Honey's voice was beautiful, though it certainly was. It was more that when Honey sang, it seemed to make the things that didn't really matter melt away. To those that believed in such things, Honey's voice was magic. When she sang, people held their breath and didn't even miss the air. Honey closed her eyes as she sang next to Nina. It was a newly acquired habit. Though she had been taught to let her eyes slowly drift over the audience, letting them make a connection with each person as she sang, she didn't do that anymore. She knew he was out there. She felt his presence frequently as she worked, but it was only when she sang that he came out into the open. She couldn't hold her voice steady when she saw him watching her, so she closed her eyes and let the magic continue for the crowd. When the song ended, Honey opened her eyes as the crowd cheered, finding his powerful form immediately as if she had been commanded to look at him. Zach. He had changed a lot in the year since he brought his sister's children through the long Santa line, drawing her almost too-large dark blue eyes to him then, as easily as he did now. After bringing his nieces and nephews through the line, he'd gone home and brought all his neighbors' kids to see Santa in five more trips, watching her the entire time. He looked at her as if he'd never seen anything like her in the world, like he couldn't believe she was real. She had loved feeling his eyes on her then, hearing his voice. She had wanted to climb up in his lap, feel his large arms curled around her, whisper to him about how good she had been that year, and of how much she hoped he would make her wishes come true. Of course, all that was before he'd told her he wanted to kill her. Zach's face looked leaner now, though his body seemed even larger, if such a thing was possible. His brooding, deep-set eyes were not merry, as they had been when children climbed his tree-like body in her line last year. They weren't nervously soft and adoring of every part of her, as they had been at their candle-lit dinner. His eyes weren't rageful or insane as you might expect from someone visiting their object of murderous hate, but rather; they were tortured, trapped. Pain and quiet desperation had taken up restless residence in the windows to his soul. Honey knew she shouldn't look at him so much, but she just wished she could understand what she had done wrong. Once the line of children and parents had cleared, it was long past the official closing time. Honey cleaned up the display and prepared it for the next day while Norman took one last lingering trip to the restroom. Her phone showed numerous messages from work friends from her other job asking where she was. The firm had planned a Christmas party at Gatsby's, a gorgeous club worthy of F. Scott Fitzgerald's glamorous hero. It was also the place where Zach had taken her on their first and last date. The Gatsby's waiter had looked stunned and confused when she shakily ordered herself an "angel shot," the code-phrase used to quietly ask bartenders or wait staff for help when you felt threatened, but after his initial shock, the waiter immediately escorted her secretly to a taxi waiting outside before Zach returned to the table. Gatsby's had saved her life; but she didn't want to go back there. After avoiding call after call from Zach, she finally answered and politely asked him never to call her again. To her surprise, he didn't. He never spoke to her again. Unless she sang, she never even saw him, but she felt his presence almost everywhere. It felt like she was haunted by him; haunted by something wonderful and magical that, inexplicably, went horribly wrong. Her phone buzzed again, the display showing that the firm's senior partner wanted to FaceTime her. Steeling herself, she answered. "Honey Lane where in the hell; oh my god lookit you!" Aaron Timberman held the phone high above his head with his long ex-basketball-player arms and Honey saw a crowd of her co-workers crowd into the picture behind him. "Um, hi sir. Sorry I'm late to;" "You're an elf!" "Um, yeah. It's a volunteer thing;" "Wait, wait, wait; you have the shoes? You know, with the; toes?" he slurred, motioning his finger in a spiral motion. Honey bit her lips and tilted the camera down her body, showing her entire costume, tilting her foot to show off the curled toe. "I'm sorry it got late tonight, but I'll be there as soon as I can get home and get changed;" Timberman looked around at the crowd surrounding him, "Guys, do we wanna see Honey Lane here at the party in some boring old Anne Klein shit, or do we want the elf?" he yelled, pointing at the screen. Behind him, almost a dozen of her co-workers began chanting "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf!" "Get yer ass over here, Elf," Timberman ordered, poking at his screen several times before effectively ending the call. A few minutes later, Norman finally came back from the restroom and gave Honey a ride over to Gatsby's in his red SUV bedecked with a bumper sticker that read, "My other car's a SLEIGH!" Honey hopped out after getting bits of advice from Norman that would have been appropriate several decades ago. With flaming cheeks, she brushed the furry white pompom from her hat out of her face and told the smirking ma tre d which party she wanted, sighing when he grinned widely and escorted her through the middle of the main dining area, much to her horror. When the doors to the party room opened and she was greeted by another round of "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf," she didn't feel much better. She was starving, so she headed over to the buffet and began loading up a plate with delicious-looking things on ice in shot glasses, impaled on sticks, or immersed in flames. She just spied a quiet table in a dark corner and was winding her way toward it to it to scarf down her only food since breakfast before she could be drawn into a drunken debate. That was the plan, anyway. "Hunnybaby! Lookit you! C'mon we gotta dance!" Lee James slurred to her fur-trimmed tits. With a sigh, she smiled and laid her plate down on a nearby table, promising to herself that she would eat right after enduring a dance with the favored junior partner. Unfortunately, after Lee angled her awkwardly around the dance floor, they'd drawn so much attention that everyone wanted to get pics of themselves toasting and dancing with the Christmas elf. At some point, she found herself in Timberman's arms with a glass of champagne in her hand. "Um; what?" she said, almost asking herself how she had gotten there. "I said you look lovely, tonight, Honey. Much better than in a shawl and sheath dress," he said, quickly twirling her around as they reached the edge of the dance floor. "Twirling makes my skirt go up; I'm dizzy," she murmured. A familiar dark figure flashed in the background and disappeared as Timberman turned her again. She looked around, trying to find the figure again, but she couldn't see him anywhere. Why was he there? Had she been singing again? "Well, I'll make sure nobody twirls you, my dear," he said, twirling her and smiling as her skirt flew up her long candy-cane striped legs. "The wives wouldn't like it." "I like your wife's dress Mr. Timberman; looks warm. It covers her ass when she sits, too," she slurred, frowning in confusion at the dark red drink in her hand now. Zach was frowning, and then he just looked blurry again as she swirled around. Maybe swirling made it harder for him to kill her. Why did he want to kill her? It just wasn't fair. Timberman leaned down and dipped her, "I'll make sure to give her your compliments. You know, if you like what wives wear, you should consider getting married. Lee is quite taken with you, you know," he said, stroking his hand against the soft pink velvet of her dress. Honey found herself drifting away and wandering inside her head again, thinking about Lee; he was handsome in an overly-polished way, said funny things, but they always sounded a little mean, like he wanted to be the only one laughing; and he also took her away from the food plate that just floated by on a table. It was still full. She should have eaten that food. What time was it? "He likes my boobs; and he doesn't want to kill me," she agreed eventually, surprised to find that Timberman was gone and she was dancing with Lee James again. "Well, I can't blame him for that; they're fucking perfect; just like everything else. I'm gonna come on them after you suck me off; he murmured, pulling her closer against him. "Let me take you home, Honey; penthouse view of the city; "Umm; no, that's not home; I live in the; railroad place; with the trains?" Honey explained, pointing in what she thought was the direction of the Lowertown Commons. Why did every guy think she lived with them tonight? "Sounds charming, Eliza Doolittle; you should trade up. You don't know how much I'd love twist your arms back and fuck this ass wide open over my balcony tonight," he said, reaching his hand under her skirt and greedily squeezing her bottom. "You'd like that, wouldn't you Honey? I can tell; Lee whispered, his cologne invading her head and making her queasy. "I feel sick; Honey whimpered and staggered away, trying to find the quiet table where the food was that would make her less drunk. The dance floor was confusing, though, always turning around and thumping and flashing. She leaned against a pillar until she got a better sense of where she was. She liked the pillar. It was big and strong; and it stroked her hair. "Honey; wake up, Honey. Open your mouth. You need to take these," the vaguely familiar voice said, cutting through the sleep that had been blocking out some of the pain she felt everywhere. She obediently opened her mouth and the hand put two caplets on her tongue. A water bottle squirted a little cool liquid into her mouth until she moaned and sucked harder, desperate for more. "Not too much. Wait until you can hold that down. I'll give you more in a bit. You don't want that IV back, do you?" "Nuh" Honey groaned. She hated needles. Sure, just about every part of her body hurt more than a needle did, right now, but somehow needle pain felt personal. Like with Zach. He didn't seem like someone who went around wanting to choke everybody; just her. She was nobody special; just a simple girl who kept lawyers organized and tried to be nice. Then, someone wonderful like Zach thought she needed to die. That hurt. Something about her made him go from being tender and intensely loving to someone who; it just didn't make sense. What did she do? Mercifully, sleep faded the pain and clouded her thoughts. Voices below her intruded into a wonderful dream where she was bouncing on clouds. Though not in the same room, the voices seemed strangely clear. "I can't; Terry, she cries when I do that," the pills voice said, making her eyes fly open. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it for a year, but she would never forget it. Her body reacted with a confused mix of emotions, her cheeks flushing and adrenaline searing a path all through her at the same time. "That's because it hurts her. You know what hurts more? Bedsores. Man up. Use the pillows to prop her weight against the parts that aren't hurt on whichever side. It's either this, or she goes back to the hospital, and I have it on good authority you won't be allowed to visit after what happened." "She was screaming; Zach gritted. "Yeah, well they were putting her shoulder back in. People scream. That still doesn't excuse what you did. Since when did you become such a pussy about pain?" Terry asked. "since her." "oh my god." "Shut up," Zach grunted. "Oh my god; "Yeah, that's not shutting up." "The great Z-dog has been taken down;" "Shut up, maggot, it's not like that. I'm just taking care of h;" "By a little bitty pink Christmas elf; Terry laughed. There was a scuffling sound and then a loud whoomp and a forceful exhalation of air. "So, I turn her every few hours until she can do it for herself?" Zach asked, casually. "Yes, sir," Terry choked. "Anything else?" "Clear liquids until she can hold stuff down. Talk to her. Ask her questions. If she seems disoriented or part of her face goes slack, she goes back to the hospital. Don't fuck around." "Got it. Are you squared away, or do we need to discuss this further?" "Squared away, sir," Terry choked, then gasped in relief, panting faintly. "Jesus Christ, you haven't lost your touch. We on for the hump tomorrow at 0 500?" "No. I'm gonna stick close here until she's;" "Got it. Hey, maybe they have those Baby Bjorn things in elf-size. Then, you could just strap her onto your ba; ow! ow! ow, ow, ow!" "You weren't particularly attached to the rest of that sentence, were you, maggot?" Zach growled. "Sir, no sir; Terry squeaked. "I didn't think so. You'll be back here Wednesday," Zach stated, more as an order than a question. "Yeah, if you want me to. Honestly, right now she just needs rest and TLC more than a medic. That stands for 'tender loving care' by the way, not;" "You were just going," Zach said, as the voices moved to another end of the room below her. "Hey, you wanna know what makes an elf's toes curl up like tha;" Terry asked, his question cut off by the slamming of the door. Honey listened, trembling and terrified as Zach paced the floor below her. Though his voice hadn't changed, he sounded nothing like the man that had wooed her so tenderly a year ago. He sounded dangerous, brutal even. He definitely sounded like the kind of person that went around wanting to choke everyone, she thought, strangely relieved that her heartbreak felt a little less personal. How could she have been so wrong in her impression of him? She looked around the room, understanding now how the voices had reached her so easily. She was in an open industrial loft bedroom that opened onto the main floor below. Looking around, she realized she must be in Zach's huge bed, though if the crisply made side next to her was any indication, he hadn't been sleeping in it with her. Looking down her body, she gasped quietly. Her left arm was in a sling strapped to her chest, her legs were covered in bruises, and the right leg that was being stabbed with an invisible knife right now, was wrapped up in an air cast boot. What had happened to her? The last thing she remembered was feeling sick as she tried to get away from Lee's groping hands on the dance floor. After that; nothing. How did she get here? A beeping noise sounded below and Zach walked across the room to what sounded like a kitchen. The sound of water being poured into a cup, the ringing of a spoon stirring it, a pill bottle being opened. Honey shivered, realizing he was probably coming up to her, soon. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing, feigning sleep. Steps ascending to the loft bedroom. Ankle stabbing, stab, stab, stab, stab with every panicked heartbeat. A tray went down on the nightstand next to her. A chair across the room was lifted and set down by the bed. Honey told herself to breathe slowly, willing the tears welling behind her lids not to leak out of her eyes. He would leave her alone if she was sleeping, wouldn't he? "You're not sleeping," Zach's voice stated, quietly, and her stomach clenched in fear. "You've been waking up for these pills every four hours like a junkie. I know you don't want to talk to me, Honey, but until you're squared away, you're gonna have to. So, cut the crap, open your eyes, and let's get this done." Honey opened her eyes to see his grim face looking down at her. With one blink, large tears rolled down her pale cheeks, and Zach's jaw set angrily. Sitting down in the chair, he put his elbows on his knees and leaned his massive shoulders forward, looking at her. His hands looked like they could crush rocks as he gripped them together. "Let's get some things straight. I don't know what you think you know about me, but acting like I'm some kind of psycho is pretty shitty. You want nothing of me, that's fine, but you're hurt because you screamed and flung yourself down some stairs rather than let me help you to an Uber. You're staying here until you're well, because some shithead at that party gave you enough roofies to be in a coma for almost 3 days and I'm not dragging my ass to that rat trap of yours in the Commons every day to make sure they don't come back while you're weak. Are we clear?" he asked. Honey swallowed and nodded, wincing at the pain in her neck and head. That just seemed to make Zach angrier. "While you are here, you will do as you're told. You will eat what you get, and you will not complain. You see these, here?" he said, holding up the magic caplets that made everything better. "These are the last ones you're getting. I'm switching you to ibuprofen and Tylenol because, unchecked, this Sackler shit will fuck you up for good and that's not happening on my watch. Do you understand?" he asked. "Yes," Honey whispered. At the sound of her voice, Zach's mouth twitched, but at least he didn't look as angry as when she'd nodded and winced. "You will follow your doctor's orders to the last goddamn word. You will rest. You will do your therapy. You will let me help you and you will ask me for what you need because I am not a fucking mind reader. And so help me, if you do anything stupid like get out of that bed without me here to help you, or push yourself away from me like you did at Gatsby's, or any other drama shit that hurts even one hair on that head again, I will personally make you regret you were ever born." "Yes, Zach," Honey breathed, confused. Two more tears rolled down her cheeks. Without thinking, she leaned over to wipe them off on her shoulder and cried out in pain. Zach squeezed his clenched hands together and several of his knuckles cracked. "You don't use my name. You don't get to use my name. You're not getting under my skin again, you hear me?" Zach growled, using his rough knuckle to wipe her tears. "Orders a fucking angel shot in my own fucking club; fuck you. I don't have a name, you don't have a name. You're nothing to me. Understand?" "Yes, sir," she whispered. Honey leaned forward and took the last spoonful of broth into her mouth and swallowed, looking longingly at the noodles at the bottom of the cup. Zach caught a drop of broth at the bottom of her lower lip with the spoon and returned it to her mouth. "No," he said, seeing where her eyes lingered. "I can do it," she pleaded. "Please; I haven't had anything solid since; how long has it been?" "I said, no. You throw up on another pair of my skivvies and I'll be doing laundry twice a week," Zach said, dabbing her mouth with a paper towel. "Why do I have to wear your boxer briefs anyway? They feel weird. They have this hole-flap thing; and there are some places that aren't supposed to feel a breeze," Honey said, lifting the blanket to look down at his underwear loosely covering her hips. "Are you complaining?" he asked quietly. Honey's eyes darted quickly to his face, "No sir," she murmured, looking down at her lap. "I just thought if I had some of my things here, you wouldn't have to do the laundry so much." "I'll worry about what I have to do, Honey," he said, unthinkingly using her name. Startled, she looked up to see his eyes wandering over her, his massive t-shirt sleeves going down past her elbows. She felt ridiculous and disheveled, but something about the way he looked at her made her hold her breath. Then, without another word, he slurped the noodles out of the cup and took the tray downstairs. After that, the two settled into a quiet routine of him feeding her, giving her medicine, and watching her sleep most of the day. She would sometimes awaken to the soft repetitive sounds of him running on a treadmill, or the clinking of him lifting weights downstairs where she couldn't see him. Then, he would go to the bathroom and shower. After his shower, he came upstairs again in his towel and took some clothes from his dresser before going back downstairs to change. Honey found herself looking forward to those few seconds each day, watching his droplet-covered torso twist as he leaned over his dresser. He frowned as he flipped through his carefully folded underwear. "You wearing the grey ones?" he asked, not looking at her. Honey peeked under the covers, "Um, yes sir," she replied. "I'm supposed to wear the grey ones today," he grumbled to himself. Honey didn't say anything. Zach was the one who picked out which underwear she wore today. He was the one who looked away while he painstakingly slipped the old ones off her hips and pulled the new ones over her boot and up her legs until her bottom was covered again. There was nothing about her life that wasn't chosen and executed by him. If he wasn't happy about the color of his underwear, that was his fault. Still, Zach kept rummaging around in his underwear drawer as if another crisply folded grey pair would somehow magically appear. Finally, rather than offend him by laughing, Honey spoke, "Um; you know, if they're clean, I could wear the pair I had on when I went to the hospital and you could have these. It would get you back on schedule; Zach lifted his head from the drawer and glared at her, as if he thought she was making fun of him. Honey held carefully still and shrugged her uninjured limb. She wasn't making fun, she just wanted to help. The movement caused the huge neckline to gape over to the side, revealing her bare shoulder. She waited as Zach stared impassively at her, the vein at his neck throbbing. After a long moment, he walked over and stood next to her, the tuck of his towel right next to her face. With every breath, she inhaled the scent of his wet body and the bar soap he used. A rivulet of water painstakingly slid from his chest and down his abdomen, until finally disappearing into the tightly twisted white cotton. Honey glanced up to see that he had been reading her face as she watched the droplet's progress. With a shaking breath, she blushed and pulled the covers higher with her good arm. With a twist of his mouth, Zach pulled the neckline back over her shoulder again and quickly left the room. That night, after leaving her with a video baby monitor watching her on the nightstand, Zach returned with a bag of her underwear and some of her nightgowns. After watching her excitedly sort through them, Zach pushed them aside and sat on the edge of the bed. "There were a bunch of boxes with tags on them in your living room. What's that about?" he asked. Honey's eyes dropped, "Oh; that's the charity gift thing for kids. You sign up and get them something they wished for and wrap it up so they can have something under the tree, when they wouldn't have something otherwise. It's nice, you know? I signed up for a bunch and I was supposed to wrap them and get them back to the law firm, but I guess; sorry kids," she trailed off. Looking furious, yet carefully impassive at the same time, Zach cursed under his breath and left again, returning with the packages and a huge stack of unused Styrofoam clamshells from Gatsby's, and dumped them on the bed next to her. For the next few hours, they "wrapped" the presents, Zach carefully fitting items into an appropriate-sized takeout box, and Honey trying to make them pretty with ribbons. As she watched him work, occasionally cursing under his breath, she found herself smiling at his frowning face when he was strategizing how to fit a basketball into three disassembled clamshells. "What are you laughing at?" he said, glaring when he caught her at it. "I wasn't laughing. I was smiling." "Why were you smiling, then?" he asked. "I guess; I just like you; sir," she said, glancing over at him. Honey saw a hopeful softness steal into Zach's eyes until he forcibly wrestled it down and a look of hooded sarcasm shaded them. "Yeah, well; fool me once," he sneered. Angry, Honey closed her eyes, blocking him out the only way she could. "You know, that's; that's not fair. Not after what you said; you scared me!" she said, frustrated that, once again, tears were rolling down her cheeks. Zach choked out a mirthless laugh, "I scared you? What did I say, Honey? What did I fucking say? God! I was on eggshells all night trying not to fuck it up with you and then you just; why? Those creeps you were dancing with at that party, those fucking 'nice guys' that drugged you, they were saying shit that made my skin crawl! I didn't even kiss you! I couldn't! I could barely breathe just for looking at you on our date; you looked just like a fucking angel. What did I say, Honey? What did I say?" Honey reached over and grabbed her phone, flipping through her photo album to a screenshot taken shortly before she blocked his number. "You didn't say it; you texted it. I remember watching you leave for the restroom thinking I'd met the love of my life and then you sent me this; she said, handing her phone to him. Zach took the phone, his face going from an angry red to pale horror in a matter of seconds. "This; this; he gasped, "I didn't; send this; to you; he said, shaking his head. "Whoever had your phone did, sir!" she said, emphasizing the last word, making him wince. "I spent the last year thinking you wanted to do that to me; to kill me. Every time I felt you watching me, every crowd I saw you show up in, every dark room I had to go into, that's what I thought about. I thought that a man I was head over heels about; that I could be so wrong about him. So, excuse me for thinking I liked you, sir. I promise it won't ever happen again!" Honey cried herself to sleep that night, refusing to speak to, or even look at Zach again. When she awoke, the bedroom was empty, and a glass of water and a pain pill were waiting on the nightstand. After swallowing the pill, she stared at the ceiling, furious. She didn't want to be there anymore, to be helpless and dependent on him, to obey all his stupid rules. He didn't deserve to take care of her. So, she tightened the straps on her boot and increased the air pressure to hold her broken ankle tightly enough to walk without her crutches. Then, she took off Zach's t-shirt, pulled on her elf dress, and called herself an Uber. It was when she saw the anticipated arrival time of 8 minutes that she realized her mistake. There was no way for her to get down from the loft and out of the apartment quietly in that amount of time. If she used the crutches, she would be able to descend the stairs quickly enough, but they made such a distinctive clicking racket that they would surely wake up her gorilla-like guard. If she hopped down the stairs on her good foot, it might have worked, but her good arm was on the opposite side and she kept losing her balance. Eventually she decided on the most painful course, of going down on her good and bad legs, using her good arm for support. Her boot thunked horribly the first few times, until she got the hang of it and could place it more quietly on the next step and then hop her good foot down to support it before the scream inside her could escape her lips. By the time she reached the bottom, though, she was shaking with pain and exhausted. Curiosity forced her to look around the rest of the apartment as she caught her breath, sitting on the bottom step. It was clean and unmistakably masculine. Exercise equipment took up a lot of the space not already claimed by a leather couch and TV arrangement. Zach lay on the couch, made up with sheets to act as a bed, his feet sticking out over the arm, his hand tucked under the back of his head, his chest rising and falling under the rumpled sheet. If she wasn't so angry, she'd find him handsome; or maybe he still was handsome, she thought grudgingly, closing her eyes miserably and looking away. Why couldn't he be ugly? Life wasn't fair. Uber. Right. Screwing up her courage for what was ahead, she stood and slowly hobbled across the hardwood floor, agonizing over every painful thump and noisy squeak until she finally reached the door. She unlocked the five locks on his large door, each of them being well-oiled and working perfectly. She expected no less of her anal-retentive, grey-skivvies-on-Tuesdays captor. Finally, she tugged open the heavy door to find endless flights of icy steel-mesh stairs leading all the way down to the street where her Uber was waiting. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me; she cried, breaking down into tears. A strong arm slid down around her waist and mercifully shifted her weight off her throbbing foot, "I know. It sucks. You should try it with a rucksack full of bricks," Zach said, leaning his head down and breathing into her hair. "I want to go home," she whispered. "Let me take care of you; please," Zach murmured into the top of her head, "I; it was my fault this happened to you. I scared you, I know that now; but, please believe me that I would never want to hurt or frighten you like that." "It wasn't just that text," she said, pulling her head away and looking up at him angrily. "All year, I never had a moment's peace. Even when I couldn't see you, I could feel you waiting in the quiet or dark places. Even if you weren't there;" "I was there," he confessed. "I was always there. I didn't understand what had gone wrong. You didn't want to talk to me, and the world just didn't make sense to me unless I knew where you were, what you were doing; unless I knew you were safe." "Maybe you knew I was safe, but I didn't! I thought I'd done something; that somehow I deserved to have this beautiful, scary monster hunting me. I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd done to destroy something that was so; wonderful." "You didn't do anything, Honey. Nothing at all. You were perfect. You were so perfect that I couldn't keep; you didn't do anything wrong. I never meant to send you that message; please, please believe me." "Why did you send it?" she asked, finally looking up into his eyes. The dark blue liquid pools of her eyes turned violet in the moonlight, and Zach felt a tightening in his chest. "I; I can't tell you that; but it was never meant for you." "You mean, you meant to send that message to someone else? To hurt them like that?" "Honey, I; Zach said, looking around, unable to meet her eyes, "Please, I can't; you wouldn't understand; my life isn't like that anymore." "I want to go home, Zach; please," she whispered. Zach closed his eyes for a long moment before he swallowed and nodded, looking like he was in more pain than she was. "I'll take you home tomorrow, okay? Or Terry will, if you don't want me to. He'll check the place out, make sure you're set up and safe there. You're tired, you're hurting, and your Uber's gone, now. Let me take you back upstairs and you can go in the morning. Please." At that moment, a throb of pain shot through her entire leg, and as angry as Honey was, she knew she couldn't face her empty apartment without a few more hours of rest. "Okay," she whispered. To be continued in part 2, Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Elf on a Shelf: Part 1 Her stalker wasn't who she thought he was; Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Honey smiled at the long line of children waiting to see Santa, flipping her phone from Google Translate back to see the information of the next little girl in line, who was looking up at her somberly with large liquid brown eyes. In her small face was a familiar mixture of fear and hope. Wonder; it was wonder in her eyes, Honey thought. Unlike the tired and jaded adults, dutifully shifting their weight from foot to foot, holding overstuffed shopping bags and all the coats of their kids as they distracted themselves on their phones, the children got more and more excited as they drew near the man in the furry red suit with white trim. Honey loved working with the children; because like them, she sometimes could still see the magic. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Norman shift uncomfortably in the painted plywood throne made for him to sit with the children and discuss their good behavior and of the wishes that they hoped would come true. Even at age 62, Norman still saw the magic with his merry bright blue eyes, but it faded when his prostate pained him. When the photographer got the shot the parent wanted, Honey walked to where most of the long line could see her as Norman flashed her a look of worshipful gratitude. The adults' faces immediately fell, knowing what was coming. "I'm afraid Santa needs to take a quick break because apparently the reindeer have begun arguing again!" Norman put his gloved hands up to his real beard, pulled a comically dismayed face, jumped up from his throne, and ran off toward the restrooms. Honey shook her head mournfully and continued, "The reindeer were all practicing their Christmas carols when Comet and Cupid couldn't decide how many times Santa checks his list in Santa Claus is Coming to Town! Does anyone here remember how it goes?" she asked, scanning the line for people game enough to help. Honey scampered back and forth along the line trying to choose among the eager volunteers, her white-trimmed, pink fur skirt flaring out around her thighs, her long legs clad in sparkly curly-toed ruby slippers and candy cane swirl stockings catching the eyes of several fathers. Suddenly, she gasped listening carefully to her headset, "Nina?" she called out. "Comet and Cupid say they will only stop arguing if 'Nina' gives the answer. Is there a 'Nina' here today? Nina?" Honey looked around at the crowd carefully until the little girl with the big brown eyes, who had been quietly waiting 57 minutes in line, gathered the courage to raise her hand. "Oh! Are you Nina?" she asked, running over and crouching down near the girl. "We just adopted her; she only speaks Portuguese," the weary woman holding her hand said quietly. Honey gasped and smiled widely, "Voc fala portugu s Nina? Maravilhosa!" she said, watching the little girl's eyes brighten excitedly. "Voc pode me dizer quantas vezes o Papai Noel verifica sua lista?" she asked, holding her microphone out to the little girl. "Duas vezes!" Nina said confidently into the mic. Honey listened carefully to her headset, concentrating, "'Duas vezes' it is! They've stopped arguing!" she announced. "But now, they want us all to sing the song in Portuguese! Nina, voc vai me ajudar a ensin -los a m sica?" she asked. Nina nodded and slowly she and Honey taught the familiar song to the crowd in a new language. As always, a hush came on the crowd when Honey began to sing. Heads raised up from forgotten phones. Vague smiles drifted onto the turning heads of passers-by in the mall as they paused in their frenetic search for gifts. It wasn't so much that Honey's voice was beautiful, though it certainly was. It was more that when Honey sang, it seemed to make the things that didn't really matter melt away. To those that believed in such things, Honey's voice was magic. When she sang, people held their breath and didn't even miss the air. Honey closed her eyes as she sang next to Nina. It was a newly acquired habit. Though she had been taught to let her eyes slowly drift over the audience, letting them make a connection with each person as she sang, she didn't do that anymore. She knew he was out there. She felt his presence frequently as she worked, but it was only when she sang that he came out into the open. She couldn't hold her voice steady when she saw him watching her, so she closed her eyes and let the magic continue for the crowd. When the song ended, Honey opened her eyes as the crowd cheered, finding his powerful form immediately as if she had been commanded to look at him. Zach. He had changed a lot in the year since he brought his sister's children through the long Santa line, drawing her almost too-large dark blue eyes to him then, as easily as he did now. After bringing his nieces and nephews through the line, he'd gone home and brought all his neighbors' kids to see Santa in five more trips, watching her the entire time. He looked at her as if he'd never seen anything like her in the world, like he couldn't believe she was real. She had loved feeling his eyes on her then, hearing his voice. She had wanted to climb up in his lap, feel his large arms curled around her, whisper to him about how good she had been that year, and of how much she hoped he would make her wishes come true. Of course, all that was before he'd told her he wanted to kill her. Zach's face looked leaner now, though his body seemed even larger, if such a thing was possible. His brooding, deep-set eyes were not merry, as they had been when children climbed his tree-like body in her line last year. They weren't nervously soft and adoring of every part of her, as they had been at their candle-lit dinner. His eyes weren't rageful or insane as you might expect from someone visiting their object of murderous hate, but rather; they were tortured, trapped. Pain and quiet desperation had taken up restless residence in the windows to his soul. Honey knew she shouldn't look at him so much, but she just wished she could understand what she had done wrong. Once the line of children and parents had cleared, it was long past the official closing time. Honey cleaned up the display and prepared it for the next day while Norman took one last lingering trip to the restroom. Her phone showed numerous messages from work friends from her other job asking where she was. The firm had planned a Christmas party at Gatsby's, a gorgeous club worthy of F. Scott Fitzgerald's glamorous hero. It was also the place where Zach had taken her on their first and last date. The Gatsby's waiter had looked stunned and confused when she shakily ordered herself an "angel shot," the code-phrase used to quietly ask bartenders or wait staff for help when you felt threatened, but after his initial shock, the waiter immediately escorted her secretly to a taxi waiting outside before Zach returned to the table. Gatsby's had saved her life; but she didn't want to go back there. After avoiding call after call from Zach, she finally answered and politely asked him never to call her again. To her surprise, he didn't. He never spoke to her again. Unless she sang, she never even saw him, but she felt his presence almost everywhere. It felt like she was haunted by him; haunted by something wonderful and magical that, inexplicably, went horribly wrong. Her phone buzzed again, the display showing that the firm's senior partner wanted to FaceTime her. Steeling herself, she answered. "Honey Lane where in the hell; oh my god lookit you!" Aaron Timberman held the phone high above his head with his long ex-basketball-player arms and Honey saw a crowd of her co-workers crowd into the picture behind him. "Um, hi sir. Sorry I'm late to;" "You're an elf!" "Um, yeah. It's a volunteer thing;" "Wait, wait, wait; you have the shoes? You know, with the; toes?" he slurred, motioning his finger in a spiral motion. Honey bit her lips and tilted the camera down her body, showing her entire costume, tilting her foot to show off the curled toe. "I'm sorry it got late tonight, but I'll be there as soon as I can get home and get changed;" Timberman looked around at the crowd surrounding him, "Guys, do we wanna see Honey Lane here at the party in some boring old Anne Klein shit, or do we want the elf?" he yelled, pointing at the screen. Behind him, almost a dozen of her co-workers began chanting "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf!" "Get yer ass over here, Elf," Timberman ordered, poking at his screen several times before effectively ending the call. A few minutes later, Norman finally came back from the restroom and gave Honey a ride over to Gatsby's in his red SUV bedecked with a bumper sticker that read, "My other car's a SLEIGH!" Honey hopped out after getting bits of advice from Norman that would have been appropriate several decades ago. With flaming cheeks, she brushed the furry white pompom from her hat out of her face and told the smirking ma tre d which party she wanted, sighing when he grinned widely and escorted her through the middle of the main dining area, much to her horror. When the doors to the party room opened and she was greeted by another round of "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf," she didn't feel much better. She was starving, so she headed over to the buffet and began loading up a plate with delicious-looking things on ice in shot glasses, impaled on sticks, or immersed in flames. She just spied a quiet table in a dark corner and was winding her way toward it to it to scarf down her only food since breakfast before she could be drawn into a drunken debate. That was the plan, anyway. "Hunnybaby! Lookit you! C'mon we gotta dance!" Lee James slurred to her fur-trimmed tits. With a sigh, she smiled and laid her plate down on a nearby table, promising to herself that she would eat right after enduring a dance with the favored junior partner. Unfortunately, after Lee angled her awkwardly around the dance floor, they'd drawn so much attention that everyone wanted to get pics of themselves toasting and dancing with the Christmas elf. At some point, she found herself in Timberman's arms with a glass of champagne in her hand. "Um; what?" she said, almost asking herself how she had gotten there. "I said you look lovely, tonight, Honey. Much better than in a shawl and sheath dress," he said, quickly twirling her around as they reached the edge of the dance floor. "Twirling makes my skirt go up; I'm dizzy," she murmured. A familiar dark figure flashed in the background and disappeared as Timberman turned her again. She looked around, trying to find the figure again, but she couldn't see him anywhere. Why was he there? Had she been singing again? "Well, I'll make sure nobody twirls you, my dear," he said, twirling her and smiling as her skirt flew up her long candy-cane striped legs. "The wives wouldn't like it." "I like your wife's dress Mr. Timberman; looks warm. It covers her ass when she sits, too," she slurred, frowning in confusion at the dark red drink in her hand now. Zach was frowning, and then he just looked blurry again as she swirled around. Maybe swirling made it harder for him to kill her. Why did he want to kill her? It just wasn't fair. Timberman leaned down and dipped her, "I'll make sure to give her your compliments. You know, if you like what wives wear, you should consider getting married. Lee is quite taken with you, you know," he said, stroking his hand against the soft pink velvet of her dress. Honey found herself drifting away and wandering inside her head again, thinking about Lee; he was handsome in an overly-polished way, said funny things, but they always sounded a little mean, like he wanted to be the only one laughing; and he also took her away from the food plate that just floated by on a table. It was still full. She should have eaten that food. What time was it? "He likes my boobs; and he doesn't want to kill me," she agreed eventually, surprised to find that Timberman was gone and she was dancing with Lee James again. "Well, I can't blame him for that; they're fucking perfect; just like everything else. I'm gonna come on them after you suck me off; he murmured, pulling her closer against him. "Let me take you home, Honey; penthouse view of the city; "Umm; no, that's not home; I live in the; railroad place; with the trains?" Honey explained, pointing in what she thought was the direction of the Lowertown Commons. Why did every guy think she lived with them tonight? "Sounds charming, Eliza Doolittle; you should trade up. You don't know how much I'd love twist your arms back and fuck this ass wide open over my balcony tonight," he said, reaching his hand under her skirt and greedily squeezing her bottom. "You'd like that, wouldn't you Honey? I can tell; Lee whispered, his cologne invading her head and making her queasy. "I feel sick; Honey whimpered and staggered away, trying to find the quiet table where the food was that would make her less drunk. The dance floor was confusing, though, always turning around and thumping and flashing. She leaned against a pillar until she got a better sense of where she was. She liked the pillar. It was big and strong; and it stroked her hair. "Honey; wake up, Honey. Open your mouth. You need to take these," the vaguely familiar voice said, cutting through the sleep that had been blocking out some of the pain she felt everywhere. She obediently opened her mouth and the hand put two caplets on her tongue. A water bottle squirted a little cool liquid into her mouth until she moaned and sucked harder, desperate for more. "Not too much. Wait until you can hold that down. I'll give you more in a bit. You don't want that IV back, do you?" "Nuh" Honey groaned. She hated needles. Sure, just about every part of her body hurt more than a needle did, right now, but somehow needle pain felt personal. Like with Zach. He didn't seem like someone who went around wanting to choke everybody; just her. She was nobody special; just a simple girl who kept lawyers organized and tried to be nice. Then, someone wonderful like Zach thought she needed to die. That hurt. Something about her made him go from being tender and intensely loving to someone who; it just didn't make sense. What did she do? Mercifully, sleep faded the pain and clouded her thoughts. Voices below her intruded into a wonderful dream where she was bouncing on clouds. Though not in the same room, the voices seemed strangely clear. "I can't; Terry, she cries when I do that," the pills voice said, making her eyes fly open. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it for a year, but she would never forget it. Her body reacted with a confused mix of emotions, her cheeks flushing and adrenaline searing a path all through her at the same time. "That's because it hurts her. You know what hurts more? Bedsores. Man up. Use the pillows to prop her weight against the parts that aren't hurt on whichever side. It's either this, or she goes back to the hospital, and I have it on good authority you won't be allowed to visit after what happened." "She was screaming; Zach gritted. "Yeah, well they were putting her shoulder back in. People scream. That still doesn't excuse what you did. Since when did you become such a pussy about pain?" Terry asked. "since her." "oh my god." "Shut up," Zach grunted. "Oh my god; "Yeah, that's not shutting up." "The great Z-dog has been taken down;" "Shut up, maggot, it's not like that. I'm just taking care of h;" "By a little bitty pink Christmas elf; Terry laughed. There was a scuffling sound and then a loud whoomp and a forceful exhalation of air. "So, I turn her every few hours until she can do it for herself?" Zach asked, casually. "Yes, sir," Terry choked. "Anything else?" "Clear liquids until she can hold stuff down. Talk to her. Ask her questions. If she seems disoriented or part of her face goes slack, she goes back to the hospital. Don't fuck around." "Got it. Are you squared away, or do we need to discuss this further?" "Squared away, sir," Terry choked, then gasped in relief, panting faintly. "Jesus Christ, you haven't lost your touch. We on for the hump tomorrow at 0 500?" "No. I'm gonna stick close here until she's;" "Got it. Hey, maybe they have those Baby Bjorn things in elf-size. Then, you could just strap her onto your ba; ow! ow! ow, ow, ow!" "You weren't particularly attached to the rest of that sentence, were you, maggot?" Zach growled. "Sir, no sir; Terry squeaked. "I didn't think so. You'll be back here Wednesday," Zach stated, more as an order than a question. "Yeah, if you want me to. Honestly, right now she just needs rest and TLC more than a medic. That stands for 'tender loving care' by the way, not;" "You were just going," Zach said, as the voices moved to another end of the room below her. "Hey, you wanna know what makes an elf's toes curl up like tha;" Terry asked, his question cut off by the slamming of the door. Honey listened, trembling and terrified as Zach paced the floor below her. Though his voice hadn't changed, he sounded nothing like the man that had wooed her so tenderly a year ago. He sounded dangerous, brutal even. He definitely sounded like the kind of person that went around wanting to choke everyone, she thought, strangely relieved that her heartbreak felt a little less personal. How could she have been so wrong in her impression of him? She looked around the room, understanding now how the voices had reached her so easily. She was in an open industrial loft bedroom that opened onto the main floor below. Looking around, she realized she must be in Zach's huge bed, though if the crisply made side next to her was any indication, he hadn't been sleeping in it with her. Looking down her body, she gasped quietly. Her left arm was in a sling strapped to her chest, her legs were covered in bruises, and the right leg that was being stabbed with an invisible knife right now, was wrapped up in an air cast boot. What had happened to her? The last thing she remembered was feeling sick as she tried to get away from Lee's groping hands on the dance floor. After that; nothing. How did she get here? A beeping noise sounded below and Zach walked across the room to what sounded like a kitchen. The sound of water being poured into a cup, the ringing of a spoon stirring it, a pill bottle being opened. Honey shivered, realizing he was probably coming up to her, soon. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing, feigning sleep. Steps ascending to the loft bedroom. Ankle stabbing, stab, stab, stab, stab with every panicked heartbeat. A tray went down on the nightstand next to her. A chair across the room was lifted and set down by the bed. Honey told herself to breathe slowly, willing the tears welling behind her lids not to leak out of her eyes. He would leave her alone if she was sleeping, wouldn't he? "You're not sleeping," Zach's voice stated, quietly, and her stomach clenched in fear. "You've been waking up for these pills every four hours like a junkie. I know you don't want to talk to me, Honey, but until you're squared away, you're gonna have to. So, cut the crap, open your eyes, and let's get this done." Honey opened her eyes to see his grim face looking down at her. With one blink, large tears rolled down her pale cheeks, and Zach's jaw set angrily. Sitting down in the chair, he put his elbows on his knees and leaned his massive shoulders forward, looking at her. His hands looked like they could crush rocks as he gripped them together. "Let's get some things straight. I don't know what you think you know about me, but acting like I'm some kind of psycho is pretty shitty. You want nothing of me, that's fine, but you're hurt because you screamed and flung yourself down some stairs rather than let me help you to an Uber. You're staying here until you're well, because some shithead at that party gave you enough roofies to be in a coma for almost 3 days and I'm not dragging my ass to that rat trap of yours in the Commons every day to make sure they don't come back while you're weak. Are we clear?" he asked. Honey swallowed and nodded, wincing at the pain in her neck and head. That just seemed to make Zach angrier. "While you are here, you will do as you're told. You will eat what you get, and you will not complain. You see these, here?" he said, holding up the magic caplets that made everything better. "These are the last ones you're getting. I'm switching you to ibuprofen and Tylenol because, unchecked, this Sackler shit will fuck you up for good and that's not happening on my watch. Do you understand?" he asked. "Yes," Honey whispered. At the sound of her voice, Zach's mouth twitched, but at least he didn't look as angry as when she'd nodded and winced. "You will follow your doctor's orders to the last goddamn word. You will rest. You will do your therapy. You will let me help you and you will ask me for what you need because I am not a fucking mind reader. And so help me, if you do anything stupid like get out of that bed without me here to help you, or push yourself away from me like you did at Gatsby's, or any other drama shit that hurts even one hair on that head again, I will personally make you regret you were ever born." "Yes, Zach," Honey breathed, confused. Two more tears rolled down her cheeks. Without thinking, she leaned over to wipe them off on her shoulder and cried out in pain. Zach squeezed his clenched hands together and several of his knuckles cracked. "You don't use my name. You don't get to use my name. You're not getting under my skin again, you hear me?" Zach growled, using his rough knuckle to wipe her tears. "Orders a fucking angel shot in my own fucking club; fuck you. I don't have a name, you don't have a name. You're nothing to me. Understand?" "Yes, sir," she whispered. Honey leaned forward and took the last spoonful of broth into her mouth and swallowed, looking longingly at the noodles at the bottom of the cup. Zach caught a drop of broth at the bottom of her lower lip with the spoon and returned it to her mouth. "No," he said, seeing where her eyes lingered. "I can do it," she pleaded. "Please; I haven't had anything solid since; how long has it been?" "I said, no. You throw up on another pair of my skivvies and I'll be doing laundry twice a week," Zach said, dabbing her mouth with a paper towel. "Why do I have to wear your boxer briefs anyway? They feel weird. They have this hole-flap thing; and there are some places that aren't supposed to feel a breeze," Honey said, lifting the blanket to look down at his underwear loosely covering her hips. "Are you complaining?" he asked quietly. Honey's eyes darted quickly to his face, "No sir," she murmured, looking down at her lap. "I just thought if I had some of my things here, you wouldn't have to do the laundry so much." "I'll worry about what I have to do, Honey," he said, unthinkingly using her name. Startled, she looked up to see his eyes wandering over her, his massive t-shirt sleeves going down past her elbows. She felt ridiculous and disheveled, but something about the way he looked at her made her hold her breath. Then, without another word, he slurped the noodles out of the cup and took the tray downstairs. After that, the two settled into a quiet routine of him feeding her, giving her medicine, and watching her sleep most of the day. She would sometimes awaken to the soft repetitive sounds of him running on a treadmill, or the clinking of him lifting weights downstairs where she couldn't see him. Then, he would go to the bathroom and shower. After his shower, he came upstairs again in his towel and took some clothes from his dresser before going back downstairs to change. Honey found herself looking forward to those few seconds each day, watching his droplet-covered torso twist as he leaned over his dresser. He frowned as he flipped through his carefully folded underwear. "You wearing the grey ones?" he asked, not looking at her. Honey peeked under the covers, "Um, yes sir," she replied. "I'm supposed to wear the grey ones today," he grumbled to himself. Honey didn't say anything. Zach was the one who picked out which underwear she wore today. He was the one who looked away while he painstakingly slipped the old ones off her hips and pulled the new ones over her boot and up her legs until her bottom was covered again. There was nothing about her life that wasn't chosen and executed by him. If he wasn't happy about the color of his underwear, that was his fault. Still, Zach kept rummaging around in his underwear drawer as if another crisply folded grey pair would somehow magically appear. Finally, rather than offend him by laughing, Honey spoke, "Um; you know, if they're clean, I could wear the pair I had on when I went to the hospital and you could have these. It would get you back on schedule; Zach lifted his head from the drawer and glared at her, as if he thought she was making fun of him. Honey held carefully still and shrugged her uninjured limb. She wasn't making fun, she just wanted to help. The movement caused the huge neckline to gape over to the side, revealing her bare shoulder. She waited as Zach stared impassively at her, the vein at his neck throbbing. After a long moment, he walked over and stood next to her, the tuck of his towel right next to her face. With every breath, she inhaled the scent of his wet body and the bar soap he used. A rivulet of water painstakingly slid from his chest and down his abdomen, until finally disappearing into the tightly twisted white cotton. Honey glanced up to see that he had been reading her face as she watched the droplet's progress. With a shaking breath, she blushed and pulled the covers higher with her good arm. With a twist of his mouth, Zach pulled the neckline back over her shoulder again and quickly left the room. That night, after leaving her with a video baby monitor watching her on the nightstand, Zach returned with a bag of her underwear and some of her nightgowns. After watching her excitedly sort through them, Zach pushed them aside and sat on the edge of the bed. "There were a bunch of boxes with tags on them in your living room. What's that about?" he asked. Honey's eyes dropped, "Oh; that's the charity gift thing for kids. You sign up and get them something they wished for and wrap it up so they can have something under the tree, when they wouldn't have something otherwise. It's nice, you know? I signed up for a bunch and I was supposed to wrap them and get them back to the law firm, but I guess; sorry kids," she trailed off. Looking furious, yet carefully impassive at the same time, Zach cursed under his breath and left again, returning with the packages and a huge stack of unused Styrofoam clamshells from Gatsby's, and dumped them on the bed next to her. For the next few hours, they "wrapped" the presents, Zach carefully fitting items into an appropriate-sized takeout box, and Honey trying to make them pretty with ribbons. As she watched him work, occasionally cursing under his breath, she found herself smiling at his frowning face when he was strategizing how to fit a basketball into three disassembled clamshells. "What are you laughing at?" he said, glaring when he caught her at it. "I wasn't laughing. I was smiling." "Why were you smiling, then?" he asked. "I guess; I just like you; sir," she said, glancing over at him. Honey saw a hopeful softness steal into Zach's eyes until he forcibly wrestled it down and a look of hooded sarcasm shaded them. "Yeah, well; fool me once," he sneered. Angry, Honey closed her eyes, blocking him out the only way she could. "You know, that's; that's not fair. Not after what you said; you scared me!" she said, frustrated that, once again, tears were rolling down her cheeks. Zach choked out a mirthless laugh, "I scared you? What did I say, Honey? What did I fucking say? God! I was on eggshells all night trying not to fuck it up with you and then you just; why? Those creeps you were dancing with at that party, those fucking 'nice guys' that drugged you, they were saying shit that made my skin crawl! I didn't even kiss you! I couldn't! I could barely breathe just for looking at you on our date; you looked just like a fucking angel. What did I say, Honey? What did I say?" Honey reached over and grabbed her phone, flipping through her photo album to a screenshot taken shortly before she blocked his number. "You didn't say it; you texted it. I remember watching you leave for the restroom thinking I'd met the love of my life and then you sent me this; she said, handing her phone to him. Zach took the phone, his face going from an angry red to pale horror in a matter of seconds. "This; this; he gasped, "I didn't; send this; to you; he said, shaking his head. "Whoever had your phone did, sir!" she said, emphasizing the last word, making him wince. "I spent the last year thinking you wanted to do that to me; to kill me. Every time I felt you watching me, every crowd I saw you show up in, every dark room I had to go into, that's what I thought about. I thought that a man I was head over heels about; that I could be so wrong about him. So, excuse me for thinking I liked you, sir. I promise it won't ever happen again!" Honey cried herself to sleep that night, refusing to speak to, or even look at Zach again. When she awoke, the bedroom was empty, and a glass of water and a pain pill were waiting on the nightstand. After swallowing the pill, she stared at the ceiling, furious. She didn't want to be there anymore, to be helpless and dependent on him, to obey all his stupid rules. He didn't deserve to take care of her. So, she tightened the straps on her boot and increased the air pressure to hold her broken ankle tightly enough to walk without her crutches. Then, she took off Zach's t-shirt, pulled on her elf dress, and called herself an Uber. It was when she saw the anticipated arrival time of 8 minutes that she realized her mistake. There was no way for her to get down from the loft and out of the apartment quietly in that amount of time. If she used the crutches, she would be able to descend the stairs quickly enough, but they made such a distinctive clicking racket that they would surely wake up her gorilla-like guard. If she hopped down the stairs on her good foot, it might have worked, but her good arm was on the opposite side and she kept losing her balance. Eventually she decided on the most painful course, of going down on her good and bad legs, using her good arm for support. Her boot thunked horribly the first few times, until she got the hang of it and could place it more quietly on the next step and then hop her good foot down to support it before the scream inside her could escape her lips. By the time she reached the bottom, though, she was shaking with pain and exhausted. Curiosity forced her to look around the rest of the apartment as she caught her breath, sitting on the bottom step. It was clean and unmistakably masculine. Exercise equipment took up a lot of the space not already claimed by a leather couch and TV arrangement. Zach lay on the couch, made up with sheets to act as a bed, his feet sticking out over the arm, his hand tucked under the back of his head, his chest rising and falling under the rumpled sheet. If she wasn't so angry, she'd find him handsome; or maybe he still was handsome, she thought grudgingly, closing her eyes miserably and looking away. Why couldn't he be ugly? Life wasn't fair. Uber. Right. Screwing up her courage for what was ahead, she stood and slowly hobbled across the hardwood floor, agonizing over every painful thump and noisy squeak until she finally reached the door. She unlocked the five locks on his large door, each of them being well-oiled and working perfectly. She expected no less of her anal-retentive, grey-skivvies-on-Tuesdays captor. Finally, she tugged open the heavy door to find endless flights of icy steel-mesh stairs leading all the way down to the street where her Uber was waiting. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me; she cried, breaking down into tears. A strong arm slid down around her waist and mercifully shifted her weight off her throbbing foot, "I know. It sucks. You should try it with a rucksack full of bricks," Zach said, leaning his head down and breathing into her hair. "I want to go home," she whispered. "Let me take care of you; please," Zach murmured into the top of her head, "I; it was my fault this happened to you. I scared you, I know that now; but, please believe me that I would never want to hurt or frighten you like that." "It wasn't just that text," she said, pulling her head away and looking up at him angrily. "All year, I never had a moment's peace. Even when I couldn't see you, I could feel you waiting in the quiet or dark places. Even if you weren't there;" "I was there," he confessed. "I was always there. I didn't understand what had gone wrong. You didn't want to talk to me, and the world just didn't make sense to me unless I knew where you were, what you were doing; unless I knew you were safe." "Maybe you knew I was safe, but I didn't! I thought I'd done something; that somehow I deserved to have this beautiful, scary monster hunting me. I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd done to destroy something that was so; wonderful." "You didn't do anything, Honey. Nothing at all. You were perfect. You were so perfect that I couldn't keep; you didn't do anything wrong. I never meant to send you that message; please, please believe me." "Why did you send it?" she asked, finally looking up into his eyes. The dark blue liquid pools of her eyes turned violet in the moonlight, and Zach felt a tightening in his chest. "I; I can't tell you that; but it was never meant for you." "You mean, you meant to send that message to someone else? To hurt them like that?" "Honey, I; Zach said, looking around, unable to meet her eyes, "Please, I can't; you wouldn't understand; my life isn't like that anymore." "I want to go home, Zach; please," she whispered. Zach closed his eyes for a long moment before he swallowed and nodded, looking like he was in more pain than she was. "I'll take you home tomorrow, okay? Or Terry will, if you don't want me to. He'll check the place out, make sure you're set up and safe there. You're tired, you're hurting, and your Uber's gone, now. Let me take you back upstairs and you can go in the morning. Please." At that moment, a throb of pain shot through her entire leg, and as angry as Honey was, she knew she couldn't face her empty apartment without a few more hours of rest. "Okay," she whispered. To be continued in part 2, Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 4 Finding real love, at last. Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. Driving home the next day felt like waking up from some kind of dream until I pulled into our driveway and Munchkin came running out to greet me. As I was getting out to reassure him that he hadn't been abandoned, the reality of my life settled right back in. I went inside, and Lane and Mary grunted their hellos without looking up. Ah, home. I texted Erin that I made it back safely, and she replied almost immediately saying what a great night she had, and how much she missed me already. It was going to be a long three weeks until she rotated back to the hospital in Petoskey. Luckily, life was as busy as always, and time flew by. For the first time since I was a child, I could honestly say that I was happy. My happiness lasted until the day before Erin was scheduled to return. I got my first inkling that something might be wrong when I called to see if Wilma wanted me to pick up any groceries for her from town. She didn't answer, which was strange, and the call went to voicemail. Even if she was napping, she was a very light sleeper and would normally answer by the third ring. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, so I went straight to Wilma's to make sure she was alright. Everything seemed fine when I pulled into the yard, but there was no answer when I knocked on her door. I tried again, but there was nothing but an eerie silence. Fearing the worst, I grabbed the spare key from its hiding place and went inside. I called Wilma's name and, hearing no reply, went quickly through the house trying to find her. When I got to her bedroom, I could hear a low moaning sound from the attached washroom. I ran in and found Wilma collapsed by the bathtub. She had slipped and hit her head, injuring her hip and arm in the process. She didn't have her phone with her when she fell and had been unable to move, so who knows how long she had been lying there. I called 911 for an ambulance and then called Erin and suggested that she meet us at the hospital. It took forever for the paramedics to arrive, and longer still to get Wilma loaded into the ambulance. By the time I got to the hospital, she was already being triaged by their emergency team. I took a few minutes while I waited for an update on Wilma's condition to call the rest of the family and give them the news. Alison came directly to the hospital after class, and Sharon brought Mary and Lane as soon as they got home from school. Erin arrived a few hours later and broke down when she saw me. Finally, just after nine, the doctors gave Erin an update. Wilma was in rough shape; she was badly dehydrated and had a moderate concussion, a fractured wrist, and a bone bruise on her hip. It would take her weeks to recover in the hospital. The good news was that she would make a recovery, given enough time and support. Erin and Mary decided to stay with Wilma in the hospital while Sharon dropped Alison at her dorm and drove Lane back to the house. By midnight, Mary had nodded off in a chair in the corner of Wilma's room, while I waited outside with Erin. "You should go home, Davis. There's nothing else you can do tonight. Thank God, you found her; I am not sure what I would have done if you hadn't. I already lost Grampy; I am not ready to lose Gran as well. They are all I have." I wrapped her in my arms and pulled her close. "You have me, now, too. And the girls. And you know Lane would do anything for you, you just need to ask. I was serious about what I said in Grand Rapids, Erin. I love you." Erin pulled me closer but didn't reply. The following week was a rollercoaster of emotions. Wilma was improving far quicker than the doctors had anticipated, but she would still be in rehab for at least another two weeks. It was impossible to hide Wilma's accident from the rest of the family, and they descended on the hospital like vultures; or, more accurately, their lawyers descended on the hospital while, for the most part, they stayed far away where it was warm. The one exception was Erin's stepfather, who flew in the next day. "For Christ's sake, Erin. Haven't you done enough harm as it is? Do you want your Gran to die alone on the floor of that dingy old shack of hers? It's time for her to move into a care facility that can look after her. Be reasonable!" When he failed to persuade Erin to act on his behalf, his attorneys requested an emergency court order, alleging that Wilma lacked the capacity to make her own medical decisions, that Erin was not acting in her best interests, and that one of Wilma's children should be appointed as her legal guardian. Wilma was furious when she learned of his actions, but there was little she could do to stop him until she was discharged from the hospital. Both sides knew that her doctor's recommendation would hold a lot of weight with the judge, and it was not good news for Wilma when it came. "If Mrs. Anderson is to return home, she will require around-the-clock care and company. If such care can't be arranged, then I recommend that she be placed in a long-term assisted-living facility that can treat any lingering effects from her fall, and from her late-stage cancer." Erin took the news like a physical blow, and she staggered backward to a chair. We didn't have the resources for 24-hour nursing, and it would be impossible to arrange it with such short notice even if we did. "I'm sorry, Davis. I need to be alone for a while to think." She left without looking back or saying goodbye to Wilma, and I just let her go. I wanted to ease her pain, but I knew that there was nothing I could do. She had lost, and her family had won. I was despondent as I made my way towards the exit, so much so that I nearly ran into Alison who was finishing up her shift at the hospital. "You look terrible, Brother, what happened? Is Wilma alright?" I explained to her about the doctor's recommendation and Erin's reaction. "No one has had the heart to tell Wilma, yet. She's recovered from the fall, but this news is going to kill her." Alison looked at me for a minute, before her mouth quirked upwards in a smile. "I'll do it." "What do you mean? "I'll do it. I'll look after Wilma. I am wrapping up my clinical practicum tomorrow, and I was planning on working this summer. I will look after Wilma instead. Mary can move in with us as well, and I can teach her what she needs to know to care for her when I'm not there. Once her school year is done in June, she and I can spell each other off, and I can still pick up some shifts here and there." It was an amazing offer, but I couldn't let her do it. "Alison, I can't ask you to give up your job for the summer. You need that money for your living expenses at school." "You're not asking; I'm offering. And since you've paid for my tuition so far, I am debt-free and can take out a loan to cover my last term." "I didn't cover the tuition, it was your;" "Davis. Really? Our mother, who never met a five-dollar bill she couldn't snort or inject, left me a college fund? Please. I am not an idiot. I love you, Big Brother, and I love what you have done for me and the others, but it's my time to step up now as well. Let me do this." I felt a heaviness lift from my chest as I hugged Alison and lifted her off her feet. I tried to reach Erin to let her know about Alison's offer, but I drove to her apartment, and she wasn't there, and she must have turned her phone off. I figured she must have gone to Wilma's, so I headed that way. I pulled in just as the sun was setting and found her SUV parked in the laneway, crosshatched by the lengthening shadows of the trees. I parked and saw a lone figure at the end of the dock, still wearing her scrubs. I could see whitecaps on the waves as they smashed into the dock, and I knew she must be freezing, so I grabbed my jacket out of the back of the truck and went to join her. The footing was treacherous, with patches of ice hidden by the gloom and spray, but I made my way carefully to Erin and wrapped my jacket around her shoulders. She closed her eyes and leaned back against me. "Am I doing the right thing, Davis? Gran could have died. She would have died if not for you. Can we risk that happening again? Am I just holding on to the past?" When she was finished, Erin lapsed into silence. "You are doing what Wilma asked you to do. I know your stepfather says that she isn't mentally competent, but I tell you, if she's not mentally competent then none of us are." "But it doesn't make a difference anymore. You heard what the doctor said, and I can't go against her recommendation." "You don't have to, Erin. Alison has offered to move in with Wilma to look after her, and she will teach Mary to look after her as well. Between the two of them, Wilma can stay in the house until the fall, at least, and then we can see." Erin turned towards me in her excitement but lost her footing on the slippery dock and fell backward into the water, pulling me with her. Now, in the summer, that kind of accident might be cause for some laughter and an embarrassing story around the dinner table. In late April, however, spending any time in the frigid waters of Lake Michigan could rapidly prove fatal. The shock from the cold when Erin hit the water caused her to gasp involuntarily, and she took in a mouthful. I had a half-second longer to prepare myself and managed to keep my mouth closed as I submerged, but I could immediately feel the cold in my extremities. The ladder that would normally have been at the end of the dock had been taken out for the winter, so we had no choice but to make for shore. Time compressed as I struggled to pull us through the water while Erin coughed and vomited. Finally, we dragged ourselves onto the shore, wet and shivering. I felt clumsy and weak from the cold, and my clothes felt like they weighed a hundred pounds, but I wrapped my arm around Erin's waist, and we started stumbling toward the house. By the time we got there, we were both shivering uncontrollably and my hands were numb from the cold. I knew we needed to get warm, but it was like my brain was in a fog and I couldn't get my limbs to move the way they were supposed to. So, I did the first thing that came to mind, and started feeding paper and kindling into the fireplace, while Erin went to the linen closet and grabbed a stack of towels. She stripped off her wet scrubs while I got the fire started, and then she helped me get undressed as well. When I felt a little feeling return to my fingers, I fed a larger log onto the fire and then went and got a large comforter which I wrapped around us as we shivered in front of the fire. Eventually, our shivering subsided as our bodies warmed up, and Erin laid her head back against my chest. "I'm not ready for her to go. I'm not ready to be all alone again." "You're not alone anymore; not unless you want to be. I love you, Erin." I felt her relax back against me. "I love you too, Davis, and I'm sorry." "For what?" "For pulling you into the lake like a dumbass; fuck, that was cold." Chapter 6. Wilma's family insisted on taking their emergency petition to court, over Wilma's continued objections, but once the judge learned that Alison, a trained nurse, was going to be staying with her, their decision was an easy one. And let me tell you, Wilma's mind was still sharp as ever, and she made it clear both to her doctors and, eventually, to her family and the judge, that she wanted to go home. Erin's stepfather was beside himself with anger after they lost the hearing. "Why do you insist on delaying the inevitable like this? Wilma is dying. We know it, she knows it, the doctors know it. You're the only one who won't accept it. She would get better care in a facility with real nurses here in town, rather than relying on a student, a little girl, and whatever time you can give her at home. The next time she has a crisis maybe we won't get so lucky, and it will be on your head." Outwardly, Erin looked as smooth and unbothered as glass as her stepfather screamed at her, but her hand was squeezing mine so hard that I thought she might break a bone. Luckily, before I could say anything to make matters worse, Wilma intervened. "What is it that makes you so damn sure that you know what's best for everyone else? You're right, I'm dying. There is nothing that anyone can do about that. If I happen to fall again and speed the process along, so be it. But don't you dare pretend that you care one iota about my health or happiness, or your stepdaughter's happiness for that matter. The only thing you care about is getting your wife's inheritance faster. Is your business doing so badly that you can't wait until I die? It seemed like she had scored a direct hit, as his face turned solid red as he started to stammer out a response, but she dismissed him before he could even begin. "Now go away and leave us in peace. You will be back here for my funeral soon enough, and no one wants you hovering around, hoping to speed it up." A week later, Wilma was released from the hospital, and we brought her back home. Alison moved in right away, along with Munchkin, and Mary soon followed. On most days, James would come by to pick Mary up for school and then drop her back afterward. Alison stayed with Wilma during the day, and Mary covered most of the evenings. Erin came by to help whenever she could, and I did my best to keep them stocked with supplies. It wasn't perfect, but it worked and, more importantly, it made Wilma happy. She didn't talk much about her cancer, but it was clear that it was getting worse. Mary noticed that she was eating less and resting more and that she had begun to take her pain pills in the morning as well as in the evening before she went to bed. Wilma was still adamant that she wanted to stay in her home, however, and continued to teach Mary all she could about art and life. In early June, I had stopped by to visit Wilma and the girls late in the afternoon and I was still there when James dropped Mary off from school. He escorted her into the house but then stood awkwardly in the entranceway rather than leaving. "Mr. Crawford, could we talk for a minute, if you have the time?" I shook my head in amusement. No matter how many times I told him to just call me Davis, Mr. Crawford, I remained. "Sure, I was just finishing up with Wilma," I replied as I gave Wilma a gentle hug. She felt more like a bird at that point than a person, just skin hanging on fragile bones held together by her indomitable will. James looked worried as we went outside. "This may not be any of my business, but yesterday, when I got home from school, Calum and my dad were on a conference call with some officials from the county and Wilma's son and one of her granddaughters, the lawyer. I didn't mean to eavesdrop or anything, but they were on speaker, and it was loud enough that I could hear them in the kitchen. "They were saying that when Wilma dies, her estate is being divided up equally amongst all of the children and grandchildren, but there is a part of the will that states that the land by the lake can't be sold or developed. From the sounds of it, however, once Wilma is gone, the county is going to seize that land, using eminent domain, to create a public boat launch, since Wilma's dock is the only four-season dock for at least ten miles in either direction. They will fix it up and then sell the rest of the land to the McDougals for development. "So, Wilma's family will get their money when the county forces the sale, and the McDougals will get their land. The only person left who might make a fuss would be Erin, but they figure she will fall in line once she sees the big fat check from the county." Listening to James' story made my blood boil. I hated the kinds of rich pricks who used their money and their purchased politicians to run roughshod over the rest of us. I just wasn't sure if there was anything that we could do to stop them. I thanked James for the heads up and went to speak with Wilma once he left. I expected Wilma to be as filled with rage at her family's treachery as I was, but she seemed remarkably calm about the whole thing. "Thank you for sharing this with me and thank James for his candor. He must have been deeply conflicted between his loyalty to his family, and his desire to do the right thing. Now, as to what we are going to do about this, we are going to do nothing. I don't want you to mention this to Erin or Mary, it will just worry them and make them upset. And you have more important things to do than to rage against a bunch of duplicitous assholes. Leave this one with me. "Now, why don't you go outside, take that shirt off, and start chopping some wood or something equally manly? Erin will be here soon, and you know how she likes to see you when you have worked up a sweat." I didn't know exactly what Wilma had planned, but for the next few days, she spent a lot of time on the phone. Towards the end of June, a very well-dressed older man in a tailored suit was leaving her house just as I was pulling in. It was clear that he had been there before since Munchkin ignored him and came over to give me an enthusiastic greeting instead. The man gave me a friendly smile as he put his briefcase in his top-of-the-line Lexus SUV before walking over to introduce himself. "Brantford Sage," he said holding out his hand. "You must be Mr. Crawford. Wilma has told me a lot about you. With everything she said, I was kind of expecting you to be seven feet tall and wearing a cape." I laughed at the image. "It's nice that she thinks so highly of me, but she gives me too much credit. And please call me Davis." "Well, Davis, and please call me Brantford, I have known Wilma for more years than you have been alive, and I have never heard her talk about anyone the way that she talks about you, except for Phillip, of course. And we all know how she felt about Phillip." I knew that it was none of my business why Mr. Sage was visiting Wilma, but my desire to protect her overrode any hesitation on my part about speaking out. "I am sorry if it's rude of me to ask, Mr. Sage, but what is your business here with Wilma? As you may know, her own family, along with a local family of some prominence, have been waging a campaign to get Wilma to sell this land. You are not here on their behalf, are you?" "I can assure you, Davis, that I am only here as a favor to Wilma. I normally split my time between our offices in Detroit, New York, and London, but when Wilma calls, I make it a priority to answer. I am sorry that I can't say more about my business here, attorney-client privilege, but you can ask her yourself if you would like." "It's all good. Wilma is still sharp as a tack, and even if she has lost a step or two, she is still twice as smart and four times as wise as I will ever be." "Well, I should be going. But sadly, I am sure I will see you again, soon enough." By the end of the summer, it was clear that Wilma's adventures were almost done. When she worked with Mary, she would often fall asleep in the comfortable chair in the corner. She had never had a large appetite, but recently, it had dwindled almost to nothing. Erin was very worried and suggested that it was time to move her Gran into hospice, but Wilma wouldn't hear of it. "This house has been my home for more than 60 years; I am not going to leave it now. It would miss me too much, and I can't have my home pining away over me. There is nothing more depressing than a sad home." Even Munchkin, the dog with boundless energy, became more subdued and often sat a quiet watch over Wilma while she slept. Finally, on the last Sunday of August, I got the call I had been dreading. I could hear Mary's voice on the other end of the line, holding back tears. "Gran says she's too tired and it's time to stop fighting. She told me to call you and Erin, and ask you to come;" I could hear the sobs building in her as she spoke, "to say goodbye." "Is James there with you, Mary?" "I called him. He's on his way." "I will call Erin and then go and pick her up. She won't be in any condition to drive." I figured the odds of there being a speed trap on the highway to Petoskey before 7 AM on a Sunday were slim to none, so I made it to Erin's apartment in record time. She must have been watching for me out of her window, as she threw herself into my arms before I was fully out of the truck. "I am so sorry, Honey," was all I could say, and I just held her in silence until the waves of grief that wracked her body had subsided. "We should get going," I said, not knowing what else to say. Maybe I should have told her that "Everything would be alright," but I suspected that it would be a while before that was true. But that was okay. People grieve in their own time. Erin held my hand tightly as we started the drive to Wilma's. "Why don't you tell me some of your favorite memories with your Gran and Grampy?" Erin remained silent for a few minutes, but once she started talking, the floodgates opened wide. She told me about the first time that her parents dropped her at the airport when she was only seven. How scared she was of these strange older people she didn't know. Phillip had seen her fear, and rather than trying to comfort her; how do you comfort a child whose parents have abandoned them; he had taken her for a long walk down by the lake. She remembered the sound of the wind blowing off the lake, as Phillip told her stories about their past. She remembered the summers she spent with Gran and Grampy as a teen. By that point, she had grown into a beautiful young woman, and her parents wanted to show her off to their important friends in Europe and places further afield. But she had already chosen to spend her time with the people that she loved. She spoke of coming to see them when she was in college. Of the awful year that Phillip got sick, and her grief at his passing. She said that her parents came to Good Hart for the funeral, but it felt like she and Gran were the only people to truly grieve his loss. She fell silent as we pulled into Wilma's laneway. "Go and see your Gran. Let me know what you need, Honey. I am here for you." Despite her grief, Erin looked at me as she took my hand. "What about you? What do you need, Davis? You love her too." "People show their love in different ways. I never really got the chance to give or receive love as a child, at least not in the way that most of us think of it. But being with you has made me realize something important about myself; I take care of the people I love. So, let me take care of you, Mary, and Wilma, one final time." By that point, Mary and Munchkin had come outside. Mary's eyes were red, and you could see the tracks that her tears had left on her cheeks. I got out of the truck and just held her for a minute. Erin came up behind me and enveloped her as well. Munchkin, mourning in his own way, stood watch for us, keeping us safe as we grieved. "Mary, you don't have to be here for the end if it's too hard. You can say goodbye, then take the truck and go and meet James. We can let you know when it's over." She just shook her head. "Where is she?" Mary led us into the living room. The wisp that remained of Wilma was in the comfortable chair by the fire. She had been a very small woman when we met less than a year before, but now she looked almost ethereal. Like the wind could slip right through her collecting her stories as it passed. She beckoned me over with one of her curled hands. "Davis, I am glad that you're here. I know I am a greedy old biddy, but I have three favors to ask, and I don't have a lot of time left to do the asking." "Of course, Wilma. You know I would do anything for you and Erin." She closed her eyes for a moment to collect her thoughts. "The first favor is that I need some time alone with my girls. I am sure James will be here in a minute; he is a good boy, don't hold those assholes in his family against him. He loves our Mary. Go outside, and when he arrives, I want you to go down to the lake and set up the five Adirondack chairs, so they are all together and facing out over the water. Then come back up to me." "Of course, Wilma." I went outside and sat on the front steps, scratching Munchkin's ears as I waited. James pulled up less than ten minutes later and I explained what had happened, and Wilma's request. When we were finished at the lake, we walked back up to the house, with Munchkin following quietly on our heels. We let ourselves in and saw Wilma, Erin, and Mary pulled together in an embrace. I was hesitant to interrupt, but Wilma saw us and called us over. "There's your big, strong men. Girls, could you get some of the outdoor blankets for James to carry down to the lake for us? And Davis, my second favor is for you to carry me down to the lake one last time. Would the rest of you give us a few minutes before you follow?" I picked Wilma up from the chair and wrapped her in my arms. She felt almost weightless, but I saw hints of her mischievous smile as we started walking. "You know, the last time a man carried me like this, the journey ended very differently." I couldn't help but smile, even at the end Wilma was still quick with the teasing and innuendo. "I bet you wish it was that other man carrying you now," I joked in return, but Wilma just rested her head against my chest. "No. No, I don't, Davis. I will see that other man soon enough. I am well content to be here with you. I am so proud of you. You are such a good and faithful man. It is a lot to ask of you, but for my third favor, will you look after my girls when I am gone?" By that point, we had reached the shore, and I set Wilma down in the middle chair of the five. "You don't need to ask, Wilma. Of course, I will look after them. Because you asked it of me, and because I love them just like you do." Wilma smiled and reached out to take my hand while she pressed three small objects into my palm. I looked down and saw that she had removed her engagement and wedding rings and given them to me. They were joined by an almost identical wedding band that must have belonged to Phillip before he passed. "You will know when the time is right for these. I would have liked to have been there to see it, though. Through these rings, maybe Phillip and I can continue to be a small part of your love for each other, even once we're gone." James and the girls had started down the path to the lake and would reach us in a minute. Before they arrived, Wilma gave me a final serious look. "All hell is going to break loose when they read my will after the funeral. Be there for Erin, please. The mistakes I made with my children are all my fault, but Erin will be left to bear that weight for a little while longer once I'm gone. It would mean a lot to a dying woman to know that she won't have to carry that weight alone." "I'll share that weight with her, for as long as she needs. For as long as she will let me." Wilma patted my hand. "That's good. I love you, Davis, but I think it's time." Mary and Erin arrived with James, and they made sure that Wilma was bundled in warm blankets as she looked out over the lake. Mary and Erin sat on either side of her and held her hands, while James and I sat at the ends. Munchkin settled against Wilma's feet, to keep them warm. After a while, Wilma started talking. She told stories about her life with Phillip; how they met, when they first came to this place, building a home, and raising their family. She spoke of their success as artists, and their failures as parents. She spoke of her regrets but also about her deep love for Erin and Mary, and how much she appreciated what they had done for her. She paused for a moment as the wind began to pick up, but we heard her last words before the wind carried the rest away. "You are all artists, and you are all worthy of love." She fell silent, and we sat for a long while listening to the wind off the lake. Epilogue. As always, Wilma was right. The reading of her will did indeed set off a firestorm, but she had made sure that we were ready for it. Do you remember Mr. Sage, that man in the suit who came to visit Wilma not too long before she passed? It turns out that he wasn't just an old friend, he was also a named partner at the largest law firm in the state and one of the most powerful firms in the country. It seems that Phillip didn't just paint portraits for the richest family in the state (you would recognize their name from the hospitals, museums, and other cultural institutions where it is featured prominently), but he also became a close family friend. You would never have known it, though, since Phillip refused to even acknowledge their friendship in public so that he didn't inadvertently trade on their name. Mr. Sage was also a good friend of that family and, over the years, became close with Wilma and Phillip, as well. After James told Wilma his story, she called those old family friends and, for the first time in their long friendship, asked for their help. She would never have done so for her own benefit, but she couldn't bear to think that Phillip's legacy would be lost because of the greed and treachery of his children. Within a day, Mr. Sage was working on a solution to Wilma's problem, and everything was signed and sealed well before Wilma passed on. The day of the reading of the will would have been comic if it hadn't also been so tragic. In the weeks after Wilma's death, her remaining children and grandchildren had gathered to express their deep sadness at her passing. Many black outfits were worn, and many sad faces were made. Not surprisingly, the entire McDougal family also showed up both to the funeral and to the smaller gathering at Wilma's house afterward. James stood with Mary, his arm around her shoulder, both to comfort her and to protect her from his own family, as best he could. The rest of the McDougal clan stood with Wilma's family and made sure to avail themselves of the free wine and hors d'oeuvres. As per her wishes, Wilma was cremated, and her ashes were scattered from the deck behind her house so that the wind could carry them towards the lake. Again, as per her wishes, the will was read immediately thereafter. The first surprise of the day came when Mr. Sage, who everyone thought was there merely to express his condolences at Wilma's passing, informed the family lawyers that the will in their possession had been revoked earlier that year. Both Wilma's family and their lawyers began to protest until the man formally introduced himself as a named partner at Sage, Bentley, and Carstairs, and as the new executor of Wilma's estate. The second surprise was the size and extent of that estate. The property by the lake was considerably larger than anyone had known and included a number of additional houses and cottages that Wilma and Phillip had acquired over the years. Unlike the previous will, however, that had left an equal share of the land to each of Wilma's descendants, the new one protected the entire property, in perpetuity, as part of a land trust that was established for the benefit and use of artists, local residents and even the Fudgies, when summer came to the lower peninsula. As part of the land trust, the dock was to be extended and reinforced and a public boat landing and park were to be built and maintained on the land, again, in perpetuity. Erin and I were named as trustees of the land trust, along with Mr. Sage and Mary, when she came of age. Given Michigan's strict laws around the use of eminent domain for private gain, there was no chance that the McDougals and the county would be able to move forward with their plans to seize the land. The third and final surprise was that Wilma and Phillip had done much better with the sale of their art and with their investments over the years than anyone had thought or expected. In addition to the property that was now in the trust, they had amassed a fortune in the low eight figures. Most of that money was left to manage the land trust, but a not inconsiderable amount was set aside to fund the college education of my brother and sisters and to pay off Erin's considerable student debt from medical school. The will also stipulated that the estate would pay for any costs that Wilma's family had incurred to attend the funeral (with receipts, of course.) Wilma's paintings were left to the public gallery in Grand Rapids and galleries further afield, with a few notable exceptions. Mary was given three paintings of her choice from the collection, that weren't otherwise named in the will. After much thought and consideration, she chose both the first and last works that Wilma had painted, both of which had been hanging in the living room, along with a small study of the house that Wilma kept in her bedroom beside a picture of Phillip and her on their wedding day. Erin was given Phillip's portrait of her as a young woman, and that portrait still hangs above our mantelpiece alongside his portrait of Wilma as a young woman, which she left to me. The only time they left our mantelpiece was when they were featured in a retrospective exhibit of their work at a museum in New York, but the house felt strangely empty when they were gone. Erin's family was furious at the changes in the new will. They threatened to fight it with every resource at their disposal. They tried every dirty trick they could think of, questioning Wilma's mental capacity in the months before her death, fighting the legality of the land trust, and trying to impugn our characters implying that we were gold diggers who wormed our way into Wilma's life to steal the family inheritance. In the end, though, the family's lawyers were no match for Brantford and his firm. When none of their ploys worked, Erin's family and the McDougals turned on each other, and the ensuing lawsuits are still ongoing to this day. I would love to say that that was the end of the McDougals, or that Erin's family came around in the end. Unfortunately, they are still just as terrible as ever. But at least their arrogance and corruption are now far enough away that we can safely ignore them. On a similar note, my mother is still absent from our lives. I don't honestly know if she is even still alive, although I assume that someone would have tried to find her next of kin if she had died. Sometimes, I am charitable and hope that she managed to face her demons and turn what's left of her life around. But most of the time, I am just glad that she is no longer able to hurt the people I love. After things settled down, Alison finished her schooling and became a nurse practitioner, as she had always dreamed of. In her last year of study, while she was doing a clinical practicum at a hospital in Detroit, she met a lovely internist who fell madly in love with her. Luckily for him, his feelings were reciprocated, and they are now married and living in Grand Rapids. They split their holidays between our family and her husband's family in Detroit, and they stay with us for a few weeks each summer. Their son is as thick as thieves with our daughter, and their imagination carries them through endless adventures together. Sharon was successful in her ambition to leave the peninsula and see more of the world. She finished her undergraduate degree in creative writing in Chicago before setting out to see the world, and she is still out there wandering. But she sends us lots of pictures when she gets the chance, and recently, Erin noticed that many of her pictures have the same very attractive woman smiling in the background. I think it was probably a coincidence, but Erin thinks otherwise. I sure hope Erin's right. There is nothing I want more than for my family to find love and happiness. When the spirit moves her to come home to us (with or without her friend), she will be very welcome. Mary spent months grieving her loss, but rather than turning inward, she channeled her emotions into a triptych of paintings that firmly established her as an upcoming talent in the world of art. She lived with us for several years until James proposed, at which point they moved into one of the cottages owned by the trust. Unfortunately, James' family found out that he told Wilma about their plans, and they disowned him. He had a few tough years, but Mary helped him through, and when he turned eighteen, I took him on as an apprentice. He now runs one of my crews. I used to worry that he loved Mary more than she loved him and that the imbalance would lead to heartache. My worries were put to rest when she painted her first portrait. James was her subject, and I have never seen a painting more suffused with love and desire. A few years later, a collector offered her an eye-watering amount of money for it, but she politely declined. As for Lane, well who knows what he will do with his life, but he is carrying a 4.0 GPA, and the world is his oyster. He was sure impressed by the lawyers who rained hellfire down on the McDougals, though, so I suspect that he might be leaning that way in the future. He is also building quite a following as a DJ, combining classics from the 40's and 50's with new beats. He recently started dating a new girl, and she is a real sweetheart. We haven't told her about the day that he met Erin for the first time; yet. But trust me, that time will come. But until it does, Lane is more than happy to keep up with his chores and help out around the house. But what he loves more than anything is to carry his rod out to the end of the dock and fish, while the wind off the lake plays through his hair. And then there is Erin and me. I have to say that things have worked out pretty well for us, in the end. It took less than a year for me to make use of Wilma's last gifts, and Erin and I were married the next summer in the new park down by the dock. Wilma left her house and a few acres of land to Erin, separate from the land trust, and we spent several years fixing it up and expanding it so that my brother and sisters know that there is always a place for them if they need it; for a day, a week, or a lifetime. I am still not the best at taking orders or following instructions; but gentle requests from the woman that I love, sealed with a kiss on my cheek? It turns out that I am more than fine with those. And I am still not always sure what a beautiful doctor sees in a plumber like me. But rather than let my insecurity get the better of me, I have learned to accept my good fortune with a smile. One tradition that we've adopted as our own is that we make time to dance together every Friday night. If we have guests, or family who are home, they know that they will be joining us as well; Wilma's 'no wallflowers' rule is still in full effect. Now that she is old enough, I am teaching our daughter to dance, and her favorite thing in the world is to twirl around the living room in her mommy and daddy's arms. Some nights, when it's just the three of us and our daughter has gone to bed, we let the soft crackle of Wilma's old 45s take us back. We dance together with the lights down low, the music threading through the quiet night like a whisper from the past. And when the music fades, we hold each other close and listen to the voices of those we have loved, as they linger in the wind off the lake. Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts, for Literotica.

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 3 How did we ever get here? Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. "When I was fourteen, Mr. Johnson introduced me to a friend of his, Henry White, who was a master plumber. Henry was a high-functioning alcoholic whose temper had driven away all his old apprentices and journeymen. Luckily, I was always big for my age, and Mr. Johnson assured Henry that I was seventeen, turning eighteen in the next few months, so he took me on with the promise to make me an apprentice as soon as I was old enough. By the time that Henry learned my actual age, he had come to rely on me so much that he kept me on." "But what about school? Don't you need a high school diploma to become an apprentice?" "One good thing about growing up in a small town is that most people know the score. I made it to school when I could, and Henry and I worked a lot on the weekends, while Alison watched the rest of my siblings. Most of my teachers let me through with C's and D's, even though I must have missed half of my classes. Everyone knew that I was working with Henry and that I would need my high school diploma to become an apprentice, so they just kind of let me slip through. "I had well over 6,000 hours of experience plumbing before I even turned 18 and could formally become an apprentice. By that point, Henry was a significantly less functional alcoholic, and I was doing everything for his business; all the plumbing and all of the invoicing. He just signed off on the work. If anyone had ever looked into it, he could have gotten into real trouble, but we did smaller jobs for folks who didn't have a lot of money, so no one ever noticed or cared. "Just about the last thing that Henry did before he passed was to swear out my application to become a master plumber. Then one day I showed up for work, and he had died in his sleep. He didn't own much of anything, other than his tools, and he didn't have any family that I knew of, so I just kept on working." After a few minutes spent lying together in silence, I thought that Erin might have drifted off, but she had one more question for me before she did. "When did your mom leave?" I had never told anyone that part of my story; even my brother and sisters thought that Mom had just left one day, leaving me in charge. The reality was so much worse. "By the time Lane started school, Mom had already left us. Not physically, but in all the other ways that matter. She didn't work, and she regularly brought her 'boyfriends' back to our house to trade sex for drugs. Any support she got from social services went straight into her arm or up her nose. I was working long hours by then, to pay the rent and put food on the table, so sometimes that meant that Mary or my brother would be at home with Mom when I wasn't there. I knew it was playing with fire, but there was nothing I could do about it other than pray. "Normally, when I got home, I would blow my horn as I pulled into our drive and Lane would come running out to hug me and tell me about his day. So, I knew something was wrong when I came home late one evening, turned off my truck, and he still hadn't come out. I went inside, and Mom was sitting stoned in the living room watching TV. I asked where Lane was, and she just waved toward the back of the house. Alison and Sharon were out, so Mary and Lane were home with her by themselves. I found him in the room that we shared, cowering in the corner, with little Mary guarding the door. She was only eight at the time. "After a few minutes, I got Lane to tell me what was wrong, and he showed me his arm. Earlier, he had been in the kitchen and had bumped into Mom while she was cooking something on the stove. In a burst of rage, or maybe just evil, she grabbed his arm and held it against the burner. You can still see the scar on his arm today. "That was the end of it. I asked Mary to stay with Lane in our room, I packed Mom's things into the one suitcase we owned, and I drove her to the bus station. I bought her a ticket to Grand Rapids, gave her all the cash in my wallet, and waited with her until she boarded. I told her I would call the police if she ever came back. "Before she left, she spat on me and told me she wished I had never been born." I marveled at how flat my voice sounded, but to my surprise, my cheeks felt wet. I thought I had lost the ability to cry long ago. "Can you imagine that, abandoning your own mother? I'll probably burn in hell, but it was the only way I could think of to keep my brother and sisters safe. I haven't seen her since, although she used to call a couple of times a year asking for money. I didn't feel too bad about hanging up on her when she did, though, since she was still collecting family benefits for us all. Lane barely remembers her, which is likely a blessing, so I made up the story about Mom going away for the weekend and never coming back. "Since then, I have done what was needed for us to survive. When Alison finished school, she wanted to stay home to help look after the others, but I convinced her to go to college. I said that Mom had put aside some money for her tuition, but of course, that was a lie. I have been making the payments for her, but I wanted her to have the chance to just be young, for once. To get away from all of this, at least for a while." "But what about you, Davis?" "I don't matter." "Well, you matter to me." While I was speaking, Erin had wrapped both arms around me and was now holding me tight against her body. When I finished, my body was wracked by waves of uncontrollable grief, but she held me through it all. Eventually, as I started to calm down, she gave me gentle kisses on the nape of my neck and whispered to me in a soft voice. I don't remember what she said, but I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. The power came back on early the next morning, and Erin and I were the first people to wake up. She lay beside me with a small smile on her face. "You've had some hard times, Davis Crawford, but you have come out the other side. You're pretty amazing." I felt a sudden burst of both elation and fear as I returned her smile. "Thanks for listening and not judging me. I've never told anyone some of the things I shared with you." "It was my pleasure. Now let's get up and make some coffee." Looking out the window, the snowdrifts were over two feet high in places, but I knew they weren't going to get any lighter as the sun came out and they started to melt. "I am going to get started on the shoveling if you want to start on breakfast." Erin gave me a bemused look. "Or maybe, I am fully capable of shoveling snow, and we can get it done twice as fast by working together." A few minutes after we started, Lane came out to help. At one point, when Erin was on the other side of the yard, he started to speak. "I heard some of what you said to Erin last night. I never knew what Mom did to you, what you did to protect us. Thank you." "Ah, Bud. I never wanted you to worry. Mom wasn't well for a long time, and she made some terrible choices. But she's gone now, and you will always be safe with me." By the time we finished, we had worked ourselves into a lather, so I suggested to Wilma that she get a snow plowing service for the winter. She gave me a look that implied that somewhere there was a village searching for its idiot; and that idiot was me. "Oh, I have a service, but they take so long to come that they are useless if they bother to show up at all." Erin jumped into the conversation, looking pissed off. "It's part of my family and the McDougal's ongoing campaign to get Gran to move. I have told them how dangerous the game they are playing is, but they just don't seem to care." I thought for a minute, before walking a little ways away and making a call. When I returned, I had some good news for Wilma. "Go ahead and cancel your current service. If they aren't going to do the work, they shouldn't have a problem with not getting paid. I called an old friend of mine from school who runs a snow removal company out of Harbor Springs, who owes me a favor or nine. From now on, you will be at the top of his list." Erin and I texted just about every day between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and we talked most nights when she wasn't working. We were both insanely busy; Erin was providing pediatric coverage for two hospitals that were three hours apart, and I was working as much overtime as possible, to save up for Christmas. Some weeks, the only time we had to meet in person was Sunday afternoons at Wilma's. Mary, in turn, was flourishing under Wilma's guidance. It seemed like she was channeling her emotions into her art, and I began to see the kind and thoughtful sister reemerge that I thought I had lost forever. She wouldn't show me the painting she was working on, but Wilma said she was making good progress, and that was all I needed to know. As it got towards mid-December, our thoughts turned to Christmas. Since Wilma's family was still boycotting the holidays, we decided to have a joint celebration like at Thanksgiving. Erin was going to be working at the hospital in Petoskey on Christmas Day, but we promised to keep Wilma company and to bring her a Christmas meal that she could eat on her break. In typical fashion, she tried to convince us that she would be fine with cafeteria food, but we would hear nothing of it. When we got to Wilma's house for lunch on Christmas Day, she had stockings laid out by the fireplace with a present for each of us. Santa must have had a very healthy budget, because he brought Lane a new fishing rod, Mary a set of expensive paints and charcoals, Sharon a contribution to her college fund, and Alison a specialized nurse's bag with a personalized stethoscope. Rather than a present, my stocking came with a small envelope that contained a pair of tickets to the traveling production of "Moulin Rouge" that was playing in Grand Rapids in March. Although I was happy to get a present of any kind, Wilma must have seen my look of confusion at the choice. "I was talking to Santa, and he mentioned that Erin loves musicals. Phillip used to take her to them when she was younger. He would put on his best suit, and she would get all dolled up in a dress with some of my jewelry, and they would go out for a fancy dinner before the show and have a grand old time." I looked at her in amusement, before replying. "Well, it seems that Santa is about as subtle as a sledgehammer. But I will have to say thanks, next time I bump into him." Our present to Wilma came in three parts. First, we included her in our Christmas cookie exchange, and Mary even gave her a double portion of the chocolate chip cookies she had baked. Second, the five of us committed to helping her catch up on the yard work and house repairs that had fallen by the wayside since Phillip passed. And finally, we pledged to do everything in our power to make sure that she could stay in her house for as long as she was able. Wilma hugged and thanked each of us with tears in her eyes, then looked over at Mary. "Why don't you get your present for your brother." Mary went to the studio at the back of the house and brought back what looked like a small painting, wrapped in Christmas paper. "I wanted to make you something to say 'thank you' for everything you have done for us. And for not giving up on me." When I unwrapped the painting, I was stunned. It was very different from Phillip or Wilma's more realistic works and had vibrant streaks of paint that burst across the canvas, meeting, seemingly at random, in explosions of color. The entire piece was chaotic, except for a single corner that was shielded from the turmoil by a solid arc of paint that was the exact color of my eyes. After lunch, Mary and Sharon kept Wilma company while Alison, Lane, and I went to see Erin at the hospital. Things were pretty quiet, so she had time to sit and eat her dinner with us. While she ate, I showed her pictures from earlier in the day. She laughed at one, in particular, of Wilma with her arm around Mary while they were wearing festive paper hats from their Christmas crackers. "Thank you for taking such good care of Wilma, Davis. She would never admit it, but the holidays would have been very lonely for her this year without you. It means the world to me that you could be there for her." We chatted a bit longer before I pulled out my present for Erin. It was a small flat package which she opened slowly. Inside was a framed drawing of Wilma's house, as seen from the docks, as she looked out the picture window in her living room. "This is amazing, who made it?" "I used to draw quite a bit in school. Since Mary has been working with your Gran, I thought I might give it another try, and I particularly liked how this one turned out." "It's beautiful, Davis. Thank you." She started to blush as she glanced over at Lane, before she slid a card over to me, and whispered, "Maybe you should wait to open this until later when you're alone." Inside the card was Erin's two-part gift to me. First, an invitation to visit her in Grand Rapids, and second, a night for the two of us in a suite at a very nice hotel. New Year's Eve was even quieter than usual at our house. Erin was working in Grand Rapids and was on call that evening. I spoke with her earlier in the day, however, and wished her a Happy New Year, and we sent each other kissing emojis at midnight. The rest of us spent the night playing board games. The only real excitement came a few days earlier when Mary asked if she could invite a friend to join us. "And is this friend a boy, by chance?" As far as I knew, Mary had never had a boyfriend, so this was a new development. Mary didn't have to answer, since her blush did the talking for her. "Do we know this boy?" "It's; It's James McDougal. But he's not like his brothers. He's a good guy." I had my reservations about all of the McDougals, but I was willing to give him a chance. I had only met James that one time at his parent's house when I had gone to get Mary, and he seemed polite enough. But since he was a McDougal, he was starting with two strikes and was in danger of going down swinging. To give Mary credit, James passed the first boyfriend test before he even made it into the house. When he drove into the yard, Munchkin was the first to greet him. He wasn't growling or barking like he sometimes did, or showing his teeth, but he was plenty intimidating. James waited patiently for him to approach before carefully scratching behind his ears. After Mary came out to greet James, Munchkin decided he was alright and fell in behind them as they came inside. Just after midnight, as he was getting ready to leave, James took me aside. "I just wanted to say, sir, that I am sorry for what happened with Mary a few months back. I should never have brought her over to my house without your permission, and I should have brought her right back home once I saw that my brothers were home. I promise you, that despite my bad judgment, I would have made sure that nothing happened to her, and I won't ever make that mistake again." I had to admit that James was growing on me. Chapter 5. It wasn't long before Mary introduced James to Wilma. I had to work on a Sunday in early January, so he offered to drive her to Wilma's in my place. I could tell he was nervous, and he was wearing a nice, collared shirt with some clean jeans, under his winter jacket. By the time he brought Mary home, his shirt was soaked in sweat, and he looked a little like a young man returning from war. Later that week, I asked Wilma what she thought of him. "He seems like a nice, polite boy and he sure is besotted with our Mary. While Mary and I worked on her latest painting, he did some chores for me, including chopping and stacking the entire half cord of wood you dropped off last week. But he didn't complain, and he was still smiling at Mary when he was done, so I think he will do." Wilma's relationship with the rest of the McDougals, however, remained tense, and they made it clear to me that continuing to help her would come at a steep cost. I ran into Calum one evening at the grocery store and he made their position crystal clear. "We've got a big job coming up in Indian River that you might be interested in. Starts in a week, and it would keep you busy for the better part of the next year, solid. The job is yours if you want it." "What's this job going to cost me?" "It's yours, no strings attached. But you wouldn't have time to help old lady Anderson anymore. You know, and I know, that it's time for her to move on from that land. It's what her family wants and it's what's best for her. I am sure that doctor down in Petoskey would understand, I figure she must be tired of looking after that grandmother of hers all the time anyway. Think how much more time the two of you would have together if you were working a regular nine-to-five kind of job. "On the other hand, if you don't work with us on this project, my family is going to take it pretty hard. Hard enough that we might reach out to our friends and neighbors to let them know that you are not a team player and that they may not want to do business with you." There it was. They were threatening to ruin me if I didn't do what they wanted. I knew they couldn't cut off all of my business since there were too many people in the lower peninsula who had been screwed over by them in the past. But they could sure make things tough for me. I am really bad at taking orders, however, particularly from dickheads like Calum McDougal. Calum had a cynical smile as he walked away. He didn't value decency or loyalty, so I was sure he thought he had won me over. All he had done was harden my resolve. I felt honor-bound to reach out to my friend who was clearing Wilma's driveway, though, to let him know that he might get some heat from the McDougals. He was surprisingly poetic in his response. "Fuck those arrogant worm-drowners and the horses they rode in on." Valentine's Day was never a big deal for me. Over the years, I hadn't had time to date, and I wouldn't have had any money to do anything special if I did, so the Hallmark holiday passed me by without too much fuss or bother. I had hoped things might be different since I was with Erin, but she was on call at the hospital in Petoskey, and I was pushing hard on a large multi-unit build that was on a tight schedule, so I was working six or even seven days a week until it was done. My work hadn't completely dried up since my run-in with Calum, but it had certainly taken a hit, so I was not in a position to turn down jobs, no matter how inconvenient. My one consolation was I knew I would see Erin in a couple of weeks when I visited her in Grand Rapids for the show. I had some flowers delivered to her at the hospital anyway, to let her know that I was thinking of her. That earned me an emoji-filled text and an enthusiastic video call when she was done with her shift. As the date of the show got closer, I started to get anxious. I had never been to a live performance of anything, except the occasional high school assembly, and I worried that Erin would be disappointed in my lack of manners and refinement. Wilma noticed my growing nervousness and decided that I needed a pep talk. "Listen, Davis. Erin likes you for who you are. She doesn't need or want you to act like some slick yuppie from the big city." "I know, Wilma, but I don't even know what to wear. The nicest outfit I own is still just a collared shirt over a pair of jeans." "Hmm, I can help you with that. I still have some of Phillip's old suits and ties, let's take a look and see what might fit." Half an hour later, Wilma had picked out a heavier dark charcoal-colored suit, a lightweight linen suit suitable for warmer weather, and a dark grey suit with tight pinstripes for me to try on. She had some shirts for me, as well, from when Phillip was younger. "Phillip wore that pinstripe suit the first time that he took me to the movies. I'll never forget that night, he looked just like Cary Grant. If you bring these suits to the tailor in Indian River, he should be able to take in the jacket and hem the pants to fit you perfectly. A good tailor can make these suits look like they were cut just for you." I didn't want to seem ungrateful, but I couldn't help but wonder if I would look funny in a decades-old suit. Wilma dismissed my concerns out of hand. "Let me tell you a little secret. If you buy a cheap suit, it will quickly begin to look tacky and dated. If you invest in a quality suit, it will age gracefully and become a timeless classic." Finally, Wilma selected a half dozen ties for me to try on and spent an hour teaching me how to tie a half-Windsor knot. "Get these suits altered, grab yourself a pair of polished black leather shoes, and you'll have those snooty pricks at the theatre thinking they are underdressed. And try to have fun. Erin loves the theatre, so if the two of you continue to fall in love, you will be going with her at least a couple of times a year, so you might as well enjoy it." I stood there in shock for a moment. "Do you really think Erin is falling in love with me?" "Well, yes, I do. And it's clear as daylight that you're in love with her too. But don't overthink things. Just go to the show and have a great night together. And here, take this with you as well," Wilma said handing me a navy blue pocket square with a distinctive paisley pattern. "Most men don't bother wearing a pocket square anymore, but I think they complete the look perfectly. You should wear this one on your date with Erin." Wilma took a final look at me and then slipped a twenty-dollar bill into my pocket. "That's for you to get a haircut before the show. Your normal 'shaggy mutt lost in a forest' look is adorable but not for your big date." The day of the performance approached with both aching slowness and relentless speed. We hadn't discussed it, but I knew (or at least strongly suspected) that Erin would have some expectations about how we spent our time together after the show. Unfortunately, I had no experience when it came to women other than a single kiss with Brittany Johnson back in my sophomore year of high school. I was terrified that I would disappoint her. To make matters worse, I had the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Grand Rapids to overthink things. By the time I arrived at Erin's apartment complex, I was a bit of a mess. My nerves were somewhat allayed, however, when Erin came running out to greet me with a huge smile on her face. "You made it! How was the drive? Wow, I love the haircut! I hope you're not too tired. I can't wait for tonight. I have been telling the girls all about you, and they are dying to see if the man lives up to the legend!" I guess Erin could see the sudden swell of anxiety on my face, so she took my hand. "Don't worry, the girls will love you, Davis. Why don't you grab your bag and come inside? I thought we could get changed here and then check in to the hotel before dinner and the show." Erin's housemates were really sweet, and the three of us chatted for at least an hour while Erin got ready before I excused myself to do the same. I put on Phillip's charcoal grey suit along with the crisp white shirt that Wilma had recommended. It took me four tries to tie my navy blue tie, but even I could tell that it made the colors in my paisley pocket square pop. Despite my nerves, I was still ready before Erin, so I rejoined her housemates in the living room while I waited. They kept sneaking glances at me when they thought I wasn't looking, so much so that I thought I must have done something wrong. Rather than second-guessing myself, I decided to take the bull by the horns and ask; better to be embarrassed in front of Erin's housemates than in front of her. "It's; it's not that you did anything wrong. It's just that you look; well, amazing; like an old-time movie star or something. Erin is going to swoon when she sees you." "You really think so?" I asked, still not sure of myself. Just then, I heard Erin's voice from behind me. "I'm sorry I took so long; we should head out before we're;" Erin went silent as I turned to look at her. She was wearing a floor-length emerald-green dress, which seemed to flow around her and mold to her curves, gathering delicately at her neck while leaving her back bare. Her sandy-blonde hair was styled in an elegant updo, while a few strands floated loose, framing her face. But, as always, what captured and held my gaze were her amber eyes, which danced and sparkled as she moved. My hands began to tremble, and I didn't trust myself to speak. "Do I look alright, Davis?" I took a deep breath that sent oxygen coursing through my body, as I found my voice. "I had no idea that anyone could look as beautiful as you do right now." Apparently, she liked my response, since her face broke into a wide grin. "You look mighty handsome yourself, Mister," she said while making a small adjustment to the knot of my tie. "Is that one of Grampy's suits? It looks amazing on you, and I love the tie and the; Oh; Oh, Davis. Is that Grampy's pocket square?" I could see tears forming in her eyes. "Wilma thought you might like it; that it might remind you of Phillip and the times he took you to the theatre when you were younger. I don't have to wear it, though, if you don't like it," I said reaching up to take it out of my pocket. Erin stopped my hand with hers, however, and then lightly ran her fingertips over the colorful square. "Gran was right. It reminds me of Grampy and now it will remind me of you. Please, I want you to wear it. For me." I felt a bit self-conscious pulling up to a fancy hotel in my ratty old truck, but it didn't seem to faze Erin in the least, so I decided not to worry about it. The suite she had booked was by far the nicest room of any kind that I had ever been in, but I tried not to seem like a country rube as I looked around. "Do you like it?" Erin asked a bit nervously, as she tried to gauge my reaction. "Honestly, I thought that rooms like this were just for celebrities and movie stars, and folks like that." "Normally that's the case, I guess, but for one night; tonight; it's ours." Dinner was lovely. I kept expecting people to see past my suit and realize that I was an imposter; just a plumber from the peninsula; not the kind of man who should be spending the evening with a woman like Erin. But she seemed to be having a wonderful time, so I began to relax. My anxiety was further abated when she leaned over the table and said in a low voice. "Jesus, the women in this place can't stop checking you out. I'm kind of wishing I had brought my bear spray now to keep them away. I need to excuse myself for a minute, but I wouldn't be surprised to find one of them trying to take my place when I get back." "Erin, I would never;" "I know, Darling. And frankly, they can look all they want because I know who you're going home with tonight." After that, I looked around the room with a new eye and noticed the subtle glances in my direction, and the shy smiles and blushes. I guess Phillip really did have good taste in suits. After dinner, we walked arm-in-arm to the performance hall, which was very impressive, with its soaring ceilings and plush velvet upholstery. Our seats were in a box on the right-hand side of the hall, which gave us a commanding view of the stage. As the lights went down, Erin took my hand in eager anticipation. I don't remember much about the performance that night; I spent more time watching Erin's childlike wonder than what was happening on the stage. Erin was still holding my hand at the intermission, and I felt a warm sense of contentment wash over me. "Oh, I forgot to mention, some of the largest donors to the hospital are hosting a reception after the performance. Would it be alright if we put in an appearance before we head back to our hotel?" I agreed without hesitation; a decision I would second guess before the night was over. It was close to 10:30 by the time the performance ended, and Erin held my arm, while resting her head on my shoulder, as we made our way through the hall to the reception. We each grabbed a drink, and we drifted through the small crowd until Erin was greeted warmly by a distinguished-looking older couple. Erin introduced them to me as the hosts of the reception, Mr. and Mrs. Wendel. "Please, just call us Tom and Martha. And you two make such a lovely couple. What do you do, Davis?" "I am a plumber, Ma'am," I replied, wondering how that news would be received by this obviously well-to-do couple, but I needn't have worried. "What kind of plumbing do you do?" Tom asked with genuine interest. "Mainly residential at this point, since I just got my master's license last year. A lot of the larger builders want to see some gray hairs on the heads of their skilled tradesmen, so right now, I am just doing what I can to pay the bills." "Amen, to that brother. I remember those days well. I started out, over 30 years ago now, as a dry Waller, and I spent more years than I care to remember doing whatever jobs I could get, just to get a foot in the door. It paid off for me in the end, though. Say, I am working on a development on the south side of town and was wondering;" Before Martha could stop him, Tom launched into a long and technical question about a challenge he was having with the plumbing for his new development. When I started an equally long and technical response, Erin kissed me on the cheek and whispered that Martha and she were going to go to the bar to get another drink. A few minutes later, I was still talking with Tom when a movement at the bar caught my eye. I looked more closely and saw that Erin was speaking with a tall, arrogant-looking man who kept trying to put his hand on her lower back, while she forcefully pushed it away. "My apologies, Tom, but could you give me a minute?" Without waiting for a reply, I walked over to where Erin was standing and slipped my arm around her waist, just as the man reached for her for a third time. "Hey, now," I said, trying to defuse the situation with a bit of humor. "At least buy me a drink before you make a move on me like that." His hand recoiled like it had been scalded, and his cheeks colored in anger. I could smell the alcohol on his breath from where I was standing. "Well, if it isn't the plumber," he said in a mocking tone. He must have been eavesdropping on my conversation with Tom, and he clearly wasn't impressed. "What did you think of the show this evening? Actually, that's hardly a fair question since you've probably never been to the theatre before. So, how about something more your level? I wonder what you would think of the bathrooms in my new penthouse. I am sure you would find them very impressive. I will give you a call the next time my toilet gets clogged, and you can come and check them out." He seemed very pleased with his insults, so he continued, a condescending grin on his face. "Anyway, Dr. Anderson, as I was saying, it was charitable of you to let the help see how the rest of us live, and I am sure he is having a good time and all, but it's past time for him to bring his daddy's suit home, don't you think? Why don't you leave him to it, and you and I can go have a drink? And then; who knows? I had dealt with people like this prick for my entire life. When you grow up with one abusive parent and no money, you get used to just about everyone feeling like they are better than you. There was nothing I could do about that, but I learned to use humor as a shield to protect myself and deflect attention. But sometimes humor just wasn't enough. And when humor failed, a more direct approach was called for. "You know, if you're trying to insult me, you're going to have to work a whole lot harder than that. But I doubt that hard work is something that you're too familiar with. I have been working since I was twelve to put food on the table for my brother and sisters. I have been a plumber since I was fourteen; by the time I was fifteen, I am sure I had already spent more time ankle-deep in shit than you've spent doing honest work in your entire life. "I didn't borrow this suit from my father because I don't know who my father is; that's right, I'm a bastard. But I am a bastard by circumstance and not by choice. I was born this way, what's your excuse? And since you asked, the suit I'm wearing belonged to Erin's grandfather, and you're right, I would never be able to afford a suit like this myself. But it's an honor to wear a suit that belonged to a man who loved Erin more than anything in this world. If I am really lucky, maybe she will let me love her just as deeply one day. "I may not know that much about musicals or the theatre, but anything that brings that much joy to Erin is more than fine in my books. So, I am going to continue to have a wonderful time with Erin this evening. Why wouldn't I? I am here with the most beautiful woman in the place, or;" I swept my gaze over to Martha, who was still standing beside Erin, "tied for the most beautiful, anyway." The man's face was now distorted with anger, and he took a step towards me. I stepped forward to meet him, my eyes never leaving his. Before, I had been speaking loudly for the benefit of those around us, but now I was speaking in a controlled voice, pitched for his ears alone. "You can say what you want about me, you prick. I have no respect for arrogant shitheels like you, so I just don't care. But before you ever think about putting your hands on Erin again, without her consent, you would do well to remember the Pipe Wrench Incident. "When I was fourteen, two of the men my mother was having sex with, in exchange for drugs, decided that my sister Alison should join in their fun. She was just nine years old. Luckily, I was home at the time, but I was just a kid, and they were fully grown men. When it was over, they were in the hospital, and I was cleaning my pipe wrench with some WD-40 and a rag." I looked him up and down once, dismissively. "Remember that story the next time you're tempted to touch someone I love." I turned to Tom who had come over to stand with Martha. "I'm sorry I interrupted your lovely event, and please don't hold my bad manners against Erin. I don't want to cause any more trouble, so maybe we should be on our way." Tom held up his hand indicating that we should stay. "Dr. Allen, you're drunk and making an ass of yourself. Please see yourself out. On your way home, please consider what you would like me to say at the next Board meeting regarding your behavior tonight." As a chastened Dr. Allen left the reception, Erin leaned over and whispered in my ear, "So, I'm someone you love, am I?" Before I could stammer a reply, Erin kissed my cheek and led me away to get a drink. We avoided the topic of Dr. Allen for the rest of the evening until we were on our way back to the hotel. "Did you really put two men in the hospital with a pipe wrench?" I chuckled softly before responding. "That part of the story is 100% true. What I didn't mention, though, was that they were both stoned at the time and facing the other direction. They would have killed me in a fair fight." It was close to midnight by the time we made it back to the hotel. We held each other's hands as we walked to the elevators, and Erin leaned against me as the doors closed. "Davis, how would you like this evening to end?" My heart started racing and my hands trembled. "I; I want to be with you. But, I have never;" "Are you still a virgin?" "I kissed a girl once, back in high school, but it was nothing like kissing you. I want you more than anything I have ever wanted in my life, but I don't want to disappoint you." Erin tried to stay calm as she replied. "So, you think that I am some kind of floozy who is going to compare you to all my past conquests?" "No, that's not it at all, I;" "Or do you think that I am so shallow that I will get mad at you if it takes a little while for you to learn what I like?" "No, I don't think that either;" "Okay, then. Here is what's going to happen. When we get to our room, you are going to move some of the furniture out of the way, while I put on some music. You still remember how to dance, right? And then we will take things slowly. I will let you know what makes me feel good, and you will let me know what makes you feel even better. And we will be together, and that's all that matters." And that is what happened. Erin started a playlist of songs that she liked, and we slowly danced together in our room. After the first song ended, she nuzzled into my chest as she loosened my tie and undid the first two buttons of my shirt. When the next song started, she started gently kissing and then licking my chest, causing my manhood to stiffen almost painfully. "Well, hello, my rather large friend. You need to be patient, for now. But if you're good, I may kiss you as well before the night is done." Her sensuous voice, and the image it evoked, were definitely not conducive to patience, and I let out a low moan of pleasure. "That's what I like to hear," she murmured as she untucked my shirt and continued to undo my buttons until she could run her tongue over my nipples and tweak them with her teeth. She looked up at me with sultry, half-lidded eyes. "It's okay for you to touch me as well if you want," she said, as she took one of my hands and slid it under the back of her dress and down to her silky-smooth cheeks. She slid my other hand under the front of her dress so that it cupped her tit, and she sucked in a breath as I stroked my callused thumb over her nipple. "Now some women like it when you;" I kissed her before she could finish her thought. "Erin, I don't care what some women like, the only woman I want is you." "Oh," she replied in a breathy voice. "Well, I like it when you're a bit rougher with my tits. Not right away, I need to be in the mood; like I am now;" She lost her train of thought as my hand enveloped and massaged her tit, squeezing her nipple lightly between my thumb and forefinger as I lifted it away from her body. "Mmmm, yes. Just like that, baby." I felt a wave of heat roll up the fingers on my other hand, so I slid it further down until I felt a small triangle of material, that was slick with liquid heat. I slipped my finger a little further and felt her long smooth cunt open at my touch. "Oh, Baby," Erin whispered huskily into my ear. "We are going to have so much fun tonight." It was strange going back to my regular life after my night with Erin. The time with her was so incredible, and so beyond anything I could ever have imagined, that it didn't seem real. To be continued in part 4. Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts, for Literotica.

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 2 Dancing, and other forms of sentimentality. Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.  As we finished the prep work, I asked Wilma about her day with Mary. "She is a good kid but is carrying a lot of anger and shame. We spent most of the day getting in touch with that anger. It takes some people years before they can express their emotions through art; it took her about five minutes. But we had to take some breaks to clean up the paint splatters afterward before they stained." "Oh shit! Sorry about that. I can pay to replace anything that;" "Nothing to apologize for; I asked her to express how she felt, and she did it in the way that felt right to her." "Well, I appreciate your taking the time. I am just her big brother; I feel so lost when it comes to parenting." "Being a parent doesn't mean that you know any more than anyone else, and it certainly doesn't mean that you know any better. For what it's worth, I think you are doing a fine job with your family. I know that you don't have your parents around to say it, but this old woman is mighty proud of who you are and of how you have stepped up for your brother and sisters. They are very lucky to have you." I turned away so that Wilma wouldn't see me getting choked up. I couldn't remember the last time that someone had said they were proud of me. Soon enough, though, it was dinner time, and Erin came into the kitchen with that same look of amusement on her face. "Sorry to bother the chef, but Lane needs some help that only a big brother can provide." When I gave her a quizzical look, she blushed. "It seems like he is going through puberty, which can pose; some new challenges. When I was assessing his ankle, he; well, indicated his interest in me in a way that can be difficult to hide, particularly while wearing sweatpants. It's natural for his body to react that way at that age, and it's nothing for him to feel badly about, but he was mortified. I think he could use a bit of brotherly guidance and understanding." I went to the living room and saw that Lane was curled up on the couch and looked like he was fighting back tears. "How are you doing, Buddy?" He couldn't even look at me he was so embarrassed. "I am so sorry; I just couldn't help it. I don't know why it started to get bigger, and I wanted it to stop, and it wouldn't and then she saw me, and;" he continued as he fought back a sob. "Can we just go home?" "Erin is a doctor. She knows how the human body works and has seen that kind of thing a hundred times. She isn't mad at you or embarrassed. She just feels bad that you feel so bad. This is just part of getting older and growing up. "Did I ever tell you about what happened in Miss Iron's class when I was a freshman? Miss Iron was a bit of a legend among the male students at our local high school. She was the youngest and prettiest teacher, by far, and even though she always dressed professionally, the clothing style had yet to be invented that could fully conceal her bountiful natural endowment. "Well, I liked Miss Irons a lot. She was one of the few teachers who looked past my difficulty with reading and writing. So, I developed a little crush on her, which was fine until the inevitable; hmm, physical demonstration of my crush; happened in class one day, just before she asked me to collect everyone's quizzes. I tried to delay, I tried to ask a friend to do it instead, but eventually, I had to stand up. It took me until my junior year to live that one down." As Lane listened to my story, he turned to face me and his second-hand embarrassment for me helped to push his embarrassment to the side. "So, what happened?" "Miss Irons was lovely and kind like she always was, but I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me or to get hit by a bolt of lightning. Things would have been fine if she hadn't mentioned what happened to the principal, who called Mom. She didn't find the story funny at all." I hadn't thought of the aftermath when I started telling Lane this particular story, but as they say, might as well put it in four-wheel drive and keep going. "Mom was mad?" "By then, Mom was pretty much always angry. I did my best to keep her away from you and the girls when she got that way, but yeah; she was mad." "Are you mad at me?" "No, Bud, I'm not. In a few years, once your embarrassment has died down a little, I will tease you mercilessly about this because that's what brothers do; and maybe threaten to tell your girlfriend, if you fall behind on your chores or homework. But I will never get mad at you for something that you can't control. And I promise that Erin isn't mad at you either." Just then, Mary poked her head in to tell us that dinner was on the table. "Are you safe now, or do you need a few more minutes." "I'm good. Thanks, Dad." After I helped Lane hobble into the dining room, we got down to the business of eating and teasing each other, but not necessarily in that order. It felt good; almost like what I imagined a real family would feel like. Eventually, the conversation turned to more serious matters, though, and Erin led off the questions. "So, how do you know Gran, and why are you wearing Grampy's favorite sweater? And, for what it's worth, I don't remember him filling it out in quite the way that you do." I blushed a bit as Wilma jumped in. "If Phillip had filled out that sweater like young Davis here, it wouldn't have stayed on him for very long, I can tell you that." "Gran!" Erin exclaimed, laughing while sounding scandalized. "I didn't need that mental image. Heck, none of us needed that mental image." "Oh, don't you worry, Dear. He still filled it out well enough, and it looked equally good on our bedroom floor." We were pretty much all blushing at that point, which I think was Wilma's objective, so I quickly changed the topic. "I am just your mother's plumber. I came out to fix her boiler and then finished the job earlier this week when a couple of parts came in that I needed." Wilma jumped in at that point and added her two cents to my story. "He also brought me my groceries and we had a lovely conversation. He is a real Renaissance gentleman, a rarity these days." Erin looked grateful but concerned. "Did you have enough money to cover the bill, Gran? You know I can help if you need;" I tried to jump in before Wilma could reply. "No need to worry, the bill was paid in full;" "Hogwash," Wilma exclaimed as I tried to finish, turning to Mary before she continued. "Your brother wouldn't let me pay him a cent for the work that he did. Not even for the parts that needed to be replaced! He is a very nice boy but a terrible businessman." I turned to Erin for support. "I figured your Gran has enough going on right now with her health and all. It was the least I could do to help her out." Erin looked at me with a strange expression on her face. I didn't have much experience with women, so I figured I must have made her angry somehow. Most of my interactions with women, including my sisters, seemed to end with them being upset with me for one reason or another, but she didn't sound angry when she spoke. "Thank you, Davis, that was very sweet of you." "Yeah, well; you see, it's just; pass the fish, please." "That still doesn't explain why you're wearing Grampy's favorite sweater. When I was a little girl, I used to curl up in Grampy's lap and snuggle into that sweater as he read to me. He was wearing it when I danced my first dance with him in front of the fireplace. Do you remember that old record player, Gran? You used to bring it out and we would waltz around the living room to Moon River." "I still have that record player here somewhere, let me go see if I can find it." Erin started to protest, but it was too late. "To finish answering your question, Erin, we were here today because your Gran offered to mentor Mary. I tried to politely decline, but your Gran is pretty persistent when she wants to be." "That sounds like Gran. Most of the time when she makes a suggestion, it is really a command." "While we are asking questions, how is Lane's ankle?" "It's pretty badly sprained, and he will need to use crutches to walk for the next couple of weeks. You should bring him to the hospital to get some X-rays done as well, to make sure that he doesn't have any fractures." I could feel myself deflate as she mentioned X-rays. "I'm not trying to be cheap, but are the X-rays absolutely necessary? We don't have the best insurance; we got it through the exchange. I guess it's better than nothing, but the deductible is pretty high, and my other sister, Alison, her college tuition is due soon. But if you say it's important, I will put in some extra hours to make it work." It didn't usually bother me that we were poor. Heck, most everyone we knew, except the McDougals, was poor. But it hit home when you had to tell a beautiful doctor with bright amber eyes that you couldn't afford an X-ray for your little brother unless it was urgent. "Tell you what. I will be working at the hospital in Petoskey tomorrow, so why don't you bring Lane by, and I will take care of him? I will make sure that he gets a pair of loaner crutches for as long as he needs them." "You don't need to do that for us." Erin gave me another one of her looks, this one I was more familiar with; I was pretty sure it was annoyance. "So, just to be clear, you can look after my Gran, fix her boiler for free, and bring her groceries whenever you feel like it, but I can't look after your brother and make sure that his ankle is treated properly?" "Well, when you put it that way, I sound like a bit of a jackass. I'm sorry." "Apology accepted. Come by the hospital at 11 AM tomorrow." Before we could continue, the sound of a 45 playing on an old record player filled the house. You could hear the hisses and pops before Ella Fitzgerald's voice began to sing "Dream a Little Dream of Me." Chapter 3. We got up from the table and followed the music back to the living room. I helped Lane out of his chair while he half-hobbled and half-hopped along beside me. Wilma had set her ancient record player up in the corner beside a stack of old 45s, and she had a faraway look in her eyes as she looked out the picture window toward the lake. "I think it's time for me to ask the prettiest girl in the place to dance," I said, as my eyes swept across the room. "But unfortunately, it's a three-way tie. So, will you do me the honor?" I said as I held out my hand to Wilma. "I haven't danced since Phillip passed. You know, we used to dance together every Friday night. It didn't matter where we were or what we were doing, we would always make time to dance at least one song together, even if the music was only in our heads." "I imagine I will be a pretty poor partner compared to Phillip, but I will try not to step on your toes." Wilma and I ended up dancing a slow foxtrot to "Unforgettable" by Nat King Cole. She smiled at me as we slowly circled the living room. "You're a very good dancer, young man." "Our mother taught me when I was very young." Before she began with the drugs and men, our mother had been a showgirl in New York and then Las Vegas. When she got pregnant with me, she moved back to Mackinaw City and started teaching ballroom dancing at a local studio. By the time I was five, I was her practice partner of choice, and she always insisted that I lead, despite being only half her size. "The man always leads, Darling, that's just the way of the world." I was hardly a man at the time, but I never disagreed with my mother when she was in a good mood, because I knew it could shift in an instant. So, I learned to dance, and I learned to lead. The memories came flooding back as I guided Wilma into a soft over-sway, and she smiled with delight. "Oh my, you do know how to dance!" I couldn't help but smile back. "I can't take all the credit. I think Phillip must have infused this sweater with his fancy footwork." As the song ended, I took a step back and did my best to give Wilma a gracious bow. "It was a pleasure dancing with you, my lady." "The pleasure was all mine, good sir." I turned toward Mary and held out my hand. She hesitated before Wilma declared, "There are no wallflowers in this house." Mary slowly stood but looked anxious as I took her hand. "Davis, I don't know how to dance. Mom was; she was too far gone to teach me by the time I was old enough to learn." "That's okay," I reassured her. "If there is anything that Mom made sure of, it's that I know how to lead. Just relax, and I will guide you through it." Wilma helped Lane, who had taken over as DJ, to choose a slower song so that Mary would feel more comfortable, and I heard the opening bars of "What a Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong. I started to lead Mary through a slow rumba, and she picked up the steps very quickly. She was a natural. I felt a sudden stab of regret as we moved together across the floor. "I'm sorry. I should have made time to teach you to dance. But the last few years, it has just taken everything I have to keep us;" "It's alright. You've had other things on your mind. And look; you are teaching me how to dance, now." As Mary grew more confident, I guided her through a simple underarm turn, and we ended with a dip, which made her giggle and earned a round of applause from the others. Finally, I turned to Erin, who was sitting on the couch beside Lane. I suddenly felt very shy and, for the first time that evening, she looked nervous as well. "Would you dance with me, Erin?" She didn't reply but stood and took my hand. We waited for a moment while Wilma and Lane chose a new 45 and then listened to the pop and hiss as it started to play. Soon, an alto saxophone introduced the Henri Mancini version of "Moon River," and we started a slow waltz. Although there was space between us, it was bridged by an electric charge that connected and drew us together. Even though I spent most of the dance looking over Erin's shoulder, every detail of her beauty was etched in my memory, and I felt a warm breeze pass between us, raising goosebumps on my skin. We barely noticed the pause as the song ended, and a new one began until Etta James began to sing. At last, my love has come along My lonely days are over And life is like a song The song was in 4/4 time, so I switched to a foxtrot and Erin followed as we glided across the smooth wood of the living room floor. I was so caught up in the moment, and in Erin, that I led her through a turn that transitioned into an over sway, before I stepped backward, allowing her to gently pivot into me. Our eyes met and I was lost in them again. Before we could break the spell, a heavy gust of wind shook the house, and the power flickered out. The room went dark, which sharpened my remaining senses. Suddenly, the warmth of Erin's breath on my neck felt like wildfire across my skin. We were motionless for a three-heartbeat eternity before the lights flickered and came back on. I let go of Erin and felt all of my longing and awkwardness rush back in. "Thank you, Erin. That was;" I couldn't finish; words didn't seem enough to express how I felt. "I should check the breakers and make sure that everything is alright, and then we should go. Why don't I wash these clothes and drop them back for you later." Wilma just smiled and shook her head. "If you like them, please keep them. Otherwise, they will just grow old and musty like me." A little while later, we said our goodbyes, but I promised to bring Lane to the hospital the next morning. Wilma told Mary that she would see her on Wednesday after school and again the next Sunday. I was expecting Mary to protest, but she just gave a meek, "Yes, Wilma." I was nervous when I took Lane to the hospital the next day. The deductible on our insurance was high enough that we paid for pretty much anything less serious than a severed limb out of pocket. Erin, however, was as good as her word. After the X-ray confirmed that there were no breaks or fractures in the bones around his ankle, she re-wrapped it and arranged for a pair of loaner crutches that he could use for as long as he needed them. Before we left, Erin asked me if I wanted to grab a coffee in the cafeteria, to which I readily agreed. I gave my phone to Lane so he could amuse himself while Erin and I talked. "I just wanted to say how much I appreciate what you did for Gran. I do what I can, but I spend half my time at the Children's Hospital down in Grand Rapids right now and I am often on call while I am here. I just don't have the time to give her the help that she needs." "Honestly, it's no big deal. I do a lot of work around Good Hart since the bigger plumbing companies don't like to travel that far, so I don't mind looking in on her while I am there. And she seems to have taken a real interest in Mary, so the least I can do is to bring her some groceries and help around the place a bit." Erin pursed her lips and looked like she had just bitten into a lemon. "The 'least you can do' is more than the rest of our family can be bothered to do put together, so thank you." "I meant to ask you about that. What did your Gran do to end up so isolated from the rest of your family?" "The rest of my family is; there is no nice way to put it, they're snobs. None of them have any interest in spending time 'up north' as they call it, and they can't wait for Gran to move into a retirement home and die so they can get their money and forget about this place. That's why no one comes to visit Gran anymore, even for Thanksgiving; it's part of their campaign to convince her to sell her land to the McDougals. Before you came along, I thought they were going to succeed." "Well, excuse my language, but fuck them. I don't know Wilma that well, but I will do what I can to make sure that she gets to spend her remaining days in the place that she loves." "That's easy to say, but harder to do once the McDougals and their minions start coming by your place, offering you money and making threats unless you back off." "Well, if they do, they will find out what every teacher who ever taught me learned the hard way. I am bad at taking orders and even worse at following instructions. I am not afraid of the McDougal boys." My exclamation brought a smile to Erin's pretty face. I decided that I would be willing to do quite a lot to see that smile on her face again. But there was one thing I still didn't understand. "Why aren't you on board with the rest of your family? You must be under a lot of pressure to abandon your Gran like the rest of them." "My father, Gran's youngest son, Max, died shortly after I was born, and my mother moved the family to California where she remarried into a family that had a little money but a great deal of pretension and ambition. My mother picked up that insatiable need for money and status like it was a virus. "When I was a child, my mother and stepfather spent summers and holidays traveling the world, staying in places where children weren't welcome. Although they wanted nothing to do with Gran and Grampy and their 'vermin-filled shack in the middle of nowhere', they were more than happy to leave me with them while they were away. "They would put me on a plane to Grand Rapids while they jetted off to their spas and their fine dining. Gran and Grampy were the only people who cared for me, and they became my whole world. "When I was 14, I was staying with Gran and Grampy, and I caught a fever that was so bad that I nearly died. It was a pretty grim time. My parents even thought about flying home from Monaco to be with me. They didn't, but it was the only time in my entire childhood that they considered it. But I will always remember how kind the doctors and nurses were to me when I was sick. That's why I became a pediatrician and moved home." "Isn't California home?" "Home is where the people that you love are, and so this will always be my home. Or it will be until Gran passes on, anyway." We sat in silence for a while, sipping our coffee. Before long, it was time for me to go. "This might sound crazy, but since the rest of your family aren't going to be here to celebrate Thanksgiving with your Gran, how about you and I try to give her one more Thanksgiving to remember." Erin brightened at the idea, and the smile returned to her face. "That would be amazing! Why don't I give you my number, and we can figure out how to make it happen!" Chapter 4. For the next few weeks, Mary continued to meet with Wilma on Wednesdays and Sundays. I would often take the opportunity to bring her groceries or other supplies while I dropped Mary off and, if the weather was agreeable, do some fishing. Once he could walk without crutches, Lane came along as well, in quest of another monster steelhead. Unfortunately, all he caught was some yellow perch and rock bass, but it was nice to spend the day with him down on the dock. I saw Erin a few times at Wilma's as we made plans for Thanksgiving. She seemed to particularly enjoy talking with me while I split firewood out by the shed. It was hard work, and I was often drenched with sweat by the time I was done, but she didn't seem to mind. And she worked while we talked, helping to stack the larger pieces and collecting the smaller ones for kindling. The one point of contention in our plan was how Erin would get to Wilma's on Thanksgiving Day. She was slated to work a 12-hour shift the evening before, ending at seven in the morning, and she worried that if she went home to rest, she would sleep through the entire day. Her solution was to drive out to Wilma's after her shift and catch a few hours of sleep when she got there. I thought that driving that far after working all night seemed like a terrible idea, so I offered to give her a ride instead. She did not like that one bit. "I don't want you to make an extra trip when I am perfectly capable of driving myself." It sounded like she was digging in for a fight, so I tried a different tactic to convince her. "I need to stop at the hospital anyway, to return Lane's crutches. I can kill two birds with one stone and pick you up at the same time." She didn't buy that rationale either so, reluctantly, I resorted to the truth. "I am sure you're a great driver, but if you drive yourself, I will be up that morning anyway, worrying that you are safe. I know it doesn't make sense, but I have been looking after my siblings for so long its second nature for me to worry, and I can't seem to turn it off. So please, let me pick you up. But for me, not for you. And do you know how rarely I get to be gallant these days? I will feel like your knight in shining armor." That finally got a laugh from Erin. "Alright, you win. Why don't you pick me up at 7:15 at the hospital? You can sweep me up onto your trusty steed and carry me away to Gran's house." "If by trusty steed you mean rusty old GMC truck, then it's a deal." The morning of Thanksgiving dawned chilly and gray, with a cold wind blowing in off the lake. I was up early to make sure that I made it to the hospital on time, and I was listening to the local AM country station as I drove when the DJ started his break. "A happy Thanksgiving to all our listeners. If you're on the roads today, be aware that there is a severe weather warning in effect for the area north of Cadillac and into the upper peninsula. We're expecting a combination of high winds and lake-effect snow to make driving hazardous, and you should be prepared for possible power interruptions and outages." I was relieved that Erin had agreed to let me pick her up and that I had invested in good snow tires for my pickup. The snow had already started by the time I reached the hospital, and I pulled my jacket tightly around me as I went inside. I dropped Lane's crutches with the duty nurse and waited for several minutes before Erin arrived. She looked exhausted, and the gentle smile that I loved was nowhere in evidence. "Hey, Erin. Are you okay?" "I'm fine. I just had a long shift, but I am ready to head out." She came up to me and gave me a hesitant look. "Actually, I could really use a hug if that's alright." Without a word, I wrapped my arms around her, and she buried her face in my sweater. Hidden from the world by the folds of my jacket, I felt her body start to shake. The tremors lasted for a minute before they gentled and then finally stopped. I looked out the window at the falling snow to give her a moment to compose herself. "Let's head to Gran's house. This weather isn't going to get better any time soon." With that, we got in my truck and started the drive up to Good Hart. Erin sat in silence and looked out the window. "If you want to talk, I probably can't help with doctor problems; but I am a good listener." It took Erin a minute before she opened up. "Most of the time, I love being a pediatrician. Kids come to me scared and in pain, and I help them to get better. But sometimes, it's just too much. Around midnight last night, an ambulance brought in a mother and daughter. Her boyfriend had been drinking; and he got violent. The little girl tried to protect her mother and; and; "It's one thing to treat a grown woman, you know. I mean it's still pretty bad, but; that little girl. Fuck. One thing I've learned from this job is that monsters are real." I wanted to give Erin another hug, but since I was driving, I just reached over to take her hand. "I'm sorry." My words seemed so incredibly inadequate; considering what she had just dealt with; but she squeezed my hand. "Thanks for listening." We drove on in silence, and by the time we pulled into Wilma's laneway, Erin was gently snoring with her head against the window. I stopped as close as I could to the house before lifting her out of the cab. She tucked her head into my shoulder, and I carried her inside, where Wilma was already busy in the kitchen. She came out to greet us, and I spoke to her in a low voice. "Erin had a very tough night. I think some rest will do her a world of good." Wilma helped Erin out of her boots and coat and then showed us through to the guest bedroom, where I laid Erin on the bed. The room was filled with pictures of Erin from when she was younger; standing on the dock with an older but handsome man who I guessed must be Phillip, curled up in a ball on the sofa, book in hand, and smiling in her cap and gown as she graduated. In each picture, I could see hints of the beautiful woman she would become. By the time I returned with the rest of my family, the storm had begun to pick up. Snow drifts were accumulating against the house and shed, so we brought everything with us into the house that we might need for the evening. It took some convincing, but Sharon and I took over in the kitchen while Wilma, Alison, Mary, and Lane started a game of Scrabble in the living room. Once the preparations were well underway, I laid in as much wood for the fireplace as I could. With the high winds and heavy snow, I was worried that we might lose power, and I wanted to make sure that we prepared, just in case. The radiators and boiler would provide almost no heat if there was a prolonged power outage, but the fireplace had a high-efficiency insert that would keep the house warm, as long as we built up a good bed of coals. Lane insisted on helping me with the firewood, and after a half dozen trips to the woodshed and back, we both looked like live-action versions of the abominable snowman. Wilma showed some sympathy for our plight, while our sisters had a good-natured laugh at our expense. By the early afternoon, dinner was almost ready, and Wilma sent me to wake Erin. She had barely moved since I had tucked her in and seemed so peaceful in her sleep. I leaned over and spoke softly to her until she opened her eyes. After a moment of confusion, she broke into a shy smile. "I guess we made it to Gran's." "That we did, we got here close to six hours ago." Her eyes flew open, and she tried to get up until I reassured her. "We've got things under control. Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes. Take your time; and maybe give yourself a few minutes for that pillow line on your cheek to fade." I turned to leave, so she could have some privacy, but she reached out and took my hand. "I just wanted to say thank you again for earlier. I am not used to having someone I can talk to; someone I can trust. It's only been Gran and Grampy, and me for so long, and I didn't want to burden them. But I shouldn't have dumped my troubles on you like that, we barely know each other." "I was just glad that you felt comfortable enough to share how you felt with me. Today was probably the worst day of that little girl's life. I am sure she was terrified, confused, and in a lot of pain. But what she'll remember is the angel who comforted her and treated her with kindness and love. "I need to get back to the kitchen, or I will burn something. Fair warning, this is my first time cooking a Thanksgiving turkey, so you may want to load your plate up with fixings and sides, just in case." As it turned out, the turkey wasn't perfect, but it wasn't that bad, and the gravy was tasty as heck (probably because Wilma made it.) We had mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn, and peas as sides, with the obligatory cranberry sauce (from a can). The conversation at dinner was a chaotic mixture of laughter, stories, and the kind of teasing that you only get when you bring five siblings together over a hearty meal. It didn't take Erin long to choose a side in the battle of the siblings, and soon, it was the four girls against Lane and me, with Wilma as our impartial referee. I don't know how Lane felt, but for me, it was worth being ganged up on just to see Erin and my sisters smiling and laughing. Although he tried to hide it, it was clear that Lane still had a bit of a crush on Erin, so I imagined that he was just fine with making her smile as well. For dessert, Erin brought pumpkin and apple pies that she had bought at the bakery in Petoskey, which we ate with some vanilla ice cream from the local creamery. I was sure there would be some dessert left over, given the amount that we all ate for dinner, but somehow, we finished it all. Everyone pitched in with the dishes and then we moved to the living room where we played cards and some more board games. As we played, Mary asked Wilma about some of her more memorable Thanksgivings, and she got a faraway smile. For the next hour, she regaled us with stories of humble times with the kids by the lake and, in later days, fancier celebrations with some of the families that Phillip befriended while they sat for portraits. As our last game of Scrabble ended, Sharon looked at Wilma with a mischievous grin. "Mary was telling me about the dance party that you had a few weeks ago here in your living room. Rumor has it that my big brother can dance! I was hoping, if you asked him nicely, that we could all see him in action." Wilma got up from her chair and started to move toward the hall closet. "Lane, come along and help, please. I am far too old to be carting around a heavy record player." Lane hopped up and went to help Wilma, while the rest of us began to move the furniture out of the way. As Lane set up, Wilma admonished the rest of us. "Remember, there is only one rule about dancing in my house: no wallflowers." With that, Lane started the first song, and I asked Wilma to dance. Alison followed suit, asking Lane to dance, and soon she was teaching him how to lead. Finally, Erin stood as well and gave a deep bow to Mary. "It would be my honor, enchanting lady, if I could have this dance." With a laugh, Mary stood, and soon we were all moving around the room, trying not to bump into each other or step on each other's toes. For the next hour, we danced, laughed, and pretty much forgot about the world outside. Lane even got up the courage to dance with Erin, although he stayed so far away from her that you would have thought she was radioactive. I took a couple of turns with Erin and was amazed at the way she melted into my arms. When we danced, there was a wave of knowing smirks from my sisters and a pleased smile from Wilma, but I didn't care. I could have danced with her all night. Unfortunately, during my third dance with Erin, the real world decided to interrupt our festivities. Erin and I had just started a turn when the power went out. I instinctively pulled Erin into my arms to protect her, and then I leaned in through the darkness and kissed her. She returned the kiss, ran her hand through my hair, and let out a small moan. "Do you think the power will come back on?" Lane's question cut through the fog of my lust and longing. "Probably not until sometime after the storm has passed. So, we should all plan on spending the night here and then figuring things out in the morning." With Wilma's agreement, we got settled in for the evening. After some protest, Wilma agreed to sleep in the guest room since it had a direct line of sight to the thermoelectric stove fan that helped circulate the heat from the fireplace. My three sisters slept in Wilma's bed, both to share body heat and because it was the larger of the two beds in the house. Lane slept on the couch, while Erin and I slept on the floor in front of the fireplace. Erin laid out an older sleeping bag, for comfort, with some bedding and blankets on top. In deference to Lane, she waited until she was under the blankets before she shimmied off her pants, while I stoked the fireplace. I made one more pass through the house, to check on Wilma and my sisters, but it seemed they had already fallen asleep. Even Lane had passed right out, despite his proximity to the pants-less Erin. I set a quiet alarm on my phone for two-hour intervals so that I could get up and add wood to the fire, ensuring that it would last all night. Looking down at the makeshift bed where Erin was watching me, I suddenly felt incredibly shy and anxious. I took my sweater and pants off as quickly as I could and set them on a chair before crawling under the blankets next to her. I didn't want to be presumptuous, so I stayed as far over to one side as I could. I had just settled in when I heard Erin's soft voice from behind me. "You can come a little closer. I won't bite, you know." My brain froze with indecision, but my heart knew the score and it started beating at a furious rate. I heard her shifting behind me, and I felt an arm wrap itself around my chest. My senses were on fire. The faint scent of lavender from her hair washed over me like a field of wildflowers. "Was everyone safe when you made your patrol?" I slowly rolled over so that my forehead was lightly touching hers, and I could see the flickering of the fire reflected in her eyes. "I know it's silly, but I can't sleep until I know that everyone I love is safe. Even when she is away at college, Alison texts me each night to let me know she is okay. I will make another round later after I stoke the fire." "It's not silly at all; I feel safe when I'm with you too.  Why don't you tell me your story, Davis Crawford." She must have felt me stiffen, and she started to lightly brush her fingertips through the hair on the back of my neck. "You don't have to if you're not comfortable with me yet, but I would like to hear it someday when you're ready." We sat in silence for another few minutes, while the tension slowly drained from my body. It had been over 15 years; since before the drugs and alcohol got too bad with my mother; since someone had touched me with kindness and love, and I was helpless before the gentle onslaught of Erin's fingers. Eventually, I started talking. "Things weren't always bad with Mom; I remember there being more laughter than anger when I was little. She was very beautiful, and there was a procession of men in her life, even back then, but most of them treated me well. I guess they wanted to make a good impression on her. When I was four or five, though, she took up with a man from a rougher crowd. She started in with the drinking and drugs, and they never really stopped. She got pregnant with that man, and Alison was born. From there, it was like a rock sliding down the side of a hill. It starts slowly, but soon it's rolling downhill in leaps and bounds. "After Sharon was born, fewer men came around. My mom was still beautiful, but how many guys are interested in a single mother who has three kids from three different men? I had just turned ten when she left me in charge for the weekend and flew down to Vegas with some friends from the club where she waitressed and danced. A bit more than nine months later, she had Mary. "The one thing I can say for my mom is that she mostly managed to stay clean while she was pregnant. But once Mary arrived, the hill got steeper, and the rock started plummeting downwards. As fewer men showed an interest in her, Mom had to blame someone, and we kids were handy targets. That's when the hitting started. I learned pretty quickly that she didn't much care who she hit, so I made sure that I was always close at hand, to try and spare the little ones. If she was going to throw plates at someone, I figured it had better be me. "By the time I was 12, I was the only one caring for my siblings. When Mom came home drunk or stoned after her shift at the bar, I would steal enough of her tip money to buy food for my sisters' lunches. That was the worst of it, and I didn't think that we would make it through. I am not sure we would have without our landlord, Mr. Johnson. "He lived in the apartment below us and would take us in on the weekends when my mother was out with her boyfriends, feed us dinner, and let us watch a little television. I never found out why he lived such a lonely life, but he helped me keep our family together until I was old enough to handle things myself, so I will always be grateful to him." I could see tears starting to pool in the corner of Erin's eyes. "You don't need to hear the rest of this;" Erin stopped me mid-sentence by kissing my lips. "You never got to be a kid, Davis. My whole life I felt sorry for myself because my parents didn't want or care for me, but at least I had Gran and Grampy. You had no one." Even though we were lying on an old lumpy sleeping bag on a rough hardwood floor with only a fireplace for heat, I had never felt safer in my life than I did with her right then. To be continued in part 3. Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts, for Literotica.

Michigan Weather and Women: Part 1 Love, bastards, and what we leave behind. Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. The Plumber, The Painter, and the Wind off the Lake Prologue I have never been much for following instructions or doing what I'm told. In eighth grade, we were assigned to make a volcano in science class. I figured that if the eruption looked good with a couple of tablespoons of baking soda, then it would look even better with the whole container! And what better place for a natural disaster than the teacher's desk at the front of the class. I was right; the whole container of baking soda produced an impressive explosion. What I didn't count on, however, was it producing a week-long suspension from school and a beating from my mother. In high school, we had to take an art class to graduate. Our teacher loved still life drawing and would ramble endlessly about how it revealed the beauty that is in the everyday objects that surround us. I guess he wanted us to reveal the beauty in the bowl of fruit that he had put in the middle of the classroom, but the most beautiful things that I could see were Brittany Johnson's D-cups which filled out her sweater gloriously. At the end of the class, there were 29 drawings of a bowl of fruit and one drawing of a beautiful girl's smile (amongst other details). Although I was suspended for two days, I got a date with Brittany who loved my drawing, so I feel like I came out ahead on that one. In my last year of school, the final mathematics exam asked the following question: Determine the points of intersection between the following parabolas and lines. Illustrate fully. While the other students slaved away to solve the listed problems in the allotted time, I fully illustrated a drawing of our math teacher, Mr. Aaronson, dancing a slow waltz in a field of sunflowers with Mrs. Stevens, the geography teacher. It was the worst-kept secret in the school that our two shyest teachers had massive crushes on each other, and after four years of watching them pine away, I thought they could use a little push. I failed the test, but Mr. Aaronson showed my drawing to Mrs. Stevens during a particularly dull staff meeting, and when it made her blush and smile, he finally got up the courage to ask her out. They are now married and have a little girl who is as cute as a button. At the end of the year, Mr. Aaronson asked me if I planned to pursue math in the future, and when I assured him that I did not, he gave me a passing grade. So, what was my problem, you might ask? Was I just one of those kids who didn't give a shit and was destined for mediocrity or failure in life? Like many things, the answer is more complicated than it might first appear, but I am getting ahead of myself. Our story starts on an unusually cold and blustery afternoon in late October, on the north-eastern shore of Lake Michigan about a half hour's drive north of Petoskey, just outside a village called Good Hart. Chapter 1. It had been a busy day. The perfect storm of an early season snap freeze, strong winds, and lake-effect snow meant that there was a couple of inches of snow on the still soggy ground, along with a number of leaky or burst pipes, malfunctioning valves, and boiler issues as people cranked their heating systems up to full for the first time that year. As a plumber, though, I didn't mind. It just meant more work for me, which was always a good thing. At only 25 years of age, and despite being a master plumber, I was generally the last choice for folks to call, even in an emergency. Anyone with money chose one of the larger and more established plumbing contractors, leaving me with the jobs that they didn't feel were worth their time or effort. That's how I found myself pulling into the laneway of an older house, just off Lamkin Road down by the lake, late that Friday afternoon. It was my last job of the day, but I would be working over the weekend to catch up on my backlog, so I wanted to get it done. The house looked like it hadn't been updated since it was built, likely in the late fifties or early sixties, other than a couple of coats of paint and a new roof when the original finally gave up the ghost. The front gardens were neatly tended, however, and the property itself was stunning, with panoramic views in three directions out over the lake. The sun was just beginning to dip toward the western horizon as I drove up, so the trees cast long shadows across the laneway. The house was owned by Mrs. Wilma C. Anderson, who had called me earlier in the day to say that some of her radiators weren't working and that her boiler was making one hell of a racket when she turned it on. I told her to shut the system down and that I would look at it by the end of the day. She sounded quite elderly, and I didn't like the idea of her going without heat for a night during a cold snap. I rang the doorbell and waited until a tiny wisp of a woman answered. She couldn't have been more than five feet tall and looked older than the hills, but her face was full of life, and her eyes had a twinkle that spoke of humor and mischief. "Hi, Mrs. Anderson, I'm Davis Crawford. You called earlier about some issues with your boiler and heating system. How can I help?" Mrs. Anderson gave me an appraising look. "I wasn't expecting you to be such a handsome young man. If I were fifty years younger, I would tell you exactly how you could help me, and then I'd teach you a trick or two I learned over the years. But I am too old for that kind of foolishness these days, so I will just have to make use of your plumbing expertise instead. And please, call me Wilma." I couldn't help but laugh and blush at Wilma's surprisingly raunchy sense of humor. I liked her immediately. "Let's try that again. What seems to be the problem?" "Well, the biggest problem is that I am 91 years old and dying of cancer. The doctors give me less than a year to live. But aside from that, I really can't complain. I have had a good run of it." I cocked my head to one side and gave her a bemused look. "Oh, you were wondering what the problem is with my heating system. Well, I turned it on this morning when I got up, and the boiler sounded like there was someone trapped inside of it trying to hammer their way out. There was a worrisome hissing from some of the radiators, as well, and they weren't heating up worth a damn. "My husband, Phillip, used to take care of those things for us, but he has been gone for almost five years now, so I hate to think what you will find when you look around." "I'm sure I can help you, Mrs. Anderson,;" "Wilma, please." "Sorry, Wilma. Why don't you show me to the basement, and I will try to figure out what's wrong. Then I can get started on fixing it." On the way to the basement stairs, Wilma led me through her crowded but orderly living room. I couldn't help but notice the paintings on just about every surface of its walls. "You have a real eye for art, Wilma. Those paintings are beautiful." Wilma smiled wistfully at me and got a faraway look in her eyes as she replied. "Phillip and I were artists. I guess I still am, but I haven't felt much like painting since he passed on. Phillip painted portraits. He made a surprisingly good living at it; you would be amazed at what rich people will pay to see their lives immortalized in oil on canvas. I never had the knack. Phillip could make even the most corpulent and corrupt industrialist appear regal and wise. I could only ever capture what I actually saw in them, and I quickly discovered that they did not enjoy, or pay for, that kind of introspection. "So, I painted landscapes, and there is always a market for those. But I kept some of my favorite pieces, over the years, as you can see." As Wilma spoke, I took a closer look at the paintings. One, in particular, was striking; a portrait of a beautiful young woman, in her late teens or early twenties, with a stethoscope around her neck and her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She was wearing a loose hoodie and was curled up in an Adirondack chair, reading a book. It was not what you would expect from a formal portrait, but it seemed to capture her essence in a way that no photograph could match. I must have stopped moving as I was drawn into the image, so Wilma gave me a minute before she continued. "That's the last painting that Phillip worked on before he passed. He didn't get the chance to finish it, but I still think it's his finest work." I couldn't help but agree. "Who's the model? She's beautiful." "That's my granddaughter, Erin. You can't tell from the portrait, but she's a real firecracker. As a grandparent, you're not supposed to play favorites, but she was very special to Phillip, and it hit her hard when he passed. There is more love in that one painting than in all the other portraits that he painted over his lifetime. Except for his first, of course, of me." "Where are Phillips' other works? Surely, they weren't all commissions that are now locked away in some dusty millionaire's palace." Wilma's expression turned bleak as she contemplated her response. "All of his other paintings were sold after he died. The kids said they would fetch a better price while there was an upswing of interest in his work after his death, so they insisted that they all go to auction as quickly as possible. They were probably right, I guess, although I loved his art more than I needed the money. But how do you argue with your kids when they have just lost their father?" "Do any of your children live nearby?" "They all moved far away. Phillip and I chose a wonderful spot to live and make our art, but a challenging place to raise a family. It's not so bad now, what with the internet, highways, and the like, but when we first moved here sixty-some years ago, it was very isolated. We were young and selfish, and our selfishness cost us dearly. "We thought that our children would grow to love this area over time, like we did. But they never did, and they left as soon as they could get away. My daughter, Samantha, is a retired lawyer and she and her third husband split their time between their loft in Manhattan and their beach house in the Bahamas. My son, Robert, is an oil executive down in Texas. Neither of them has been here in more than a decade, except for Phillip's funeral. "My baby, Max, passed away more than twenty years ago now of cancer. Erin is his granddaughter. She is a pediatrician, and she splits her time between the hospital in Petoskey and the children's hospital down in Grand Rapids. She comes to see me when she can, but she is very busy. My other relatives all live busy lives far away from here. We chose to live here, though, so I can't be too upset that the rest of the family chose to live far away. "But enough about me. What about you, Mr. Crawford? Do you have any children?" "It's just me and my siblings, I'm afraid, and it's been that way for quite some time. My oldest sister, Alison, is 20, and she goes to college at North Central Michigan, in Petoskey. She is planning to become a nurse practitioner. The rest of the gang still lives at home with me. Sharon is 17 now, so she kind of runs the show while I am working; Mary is 15 but going on 30, if you know what I mean; and Lane is the baby of the family at 12." "Where are your parents?" "I don't honestly know. We each have a different father, or at least we think we do. Sharon, Lane, and I have no idea who our fathers are, so there's a chance that we might be full siblings, but I doubt it. My mother never kept the same man around for long. Alison's father has been in and out of jail since before she was born and is currently serving a stint in federal prison. But Mary has it the worst of all of us. "My mother met Mary's dad on a weekend bender in Vegas, and he is a pretty big deal. Rich, famous, the kind of guy you see on TV and the cover of magazines. A real family man, except when it comes to Mary, whom he refuses to even acknowledge. He bought my mom's silence with a lump sum payment and a non-disclosure agreement. That money was supposed to be put in a trust for Mary, but my mom snorted and injected it all in less than a year. Mary has written to her father dozens of times and reached out to him on social media countless more, but he wants nothing to do with his bastard daughter. "As for my mom, she went away for the weekend almost seven years ago now and left me in charge. And I am still in charge, I guess. So, no time for dating or romance for me, and I think that I will be just about done with raising kids by the time that Lane goes off to college." Wilma gave me a look filled with more empathy than I had felt in a long time, maybe ever. "Anyway, I should take a look at your boiler and see what I can do about getting you some heat." I would have called the boiler in Wilma's basement old, but that wouldn't have done it justice. Frankly, it wouldn't have seemed out of place in a museum of heating and plumbing, and it was hanging on to life by the barest of threads. With only a year to live, however, I wasn't going to recommend to Wilma that she replace the whole system with something more modern and efficient. "I think I can fix your boiler so that it will hold on for another year or two, and I can patch a couple of leaks in the lines to the main radiators as well. One line to a radiator at the back of the house is completely shot, so I will shut that one off and be back to replace it later this week." "What's all that going to cost?" "It's free of charge, Ma'am. You've got enough to look after with your health and all, without having to worry about your heating system. I never had a grandma to spoil, at least not one that I know of, so it would be my pleasure to do this for you." "Please, it's Wilma. And it's a grandmother's prerogative to spoil her grandchildren, and not the other way around. But your kindness is mighty appreciated, Davis." It took me a couple of hours to shore up the boiler and repair the lines that were still in reasonable condition before I was finished for the day. As I got ready to leave, I found Wilma sitting alone in the living room reading an old paperback. "I'll call you later this week, once the replacement line for your radiator comes in." Wilma got a mischievous smile on her face. "Why, Davis, are you getting fresh with me?" "If I were older and more experienced, I would in an instant. But I hardly think I can compete with the memory of your Phillip." "Too true, too true. Alright young man, well thank you for taking the time to look after a foolish old woman on a cold October night." "I hardly think you're foolish, Wilma, but it's been my pleasure." I didn't get home from Wilma's until well after nine that night, and by the time I pulled into our gravel driveway, I was beat. The dilapidated old yard light mounted on the roof of the garage shone weakly down on the sloppy mix of gravel and mud that was our yard, and I could hear the excited barks of Munchkin, our rescue puppy. He was a mix of German Shepherd and Cane Corso, with some variety of northern dog thrown in, and he was mighty pleased to see me. I'm glad that someone was. I came into our small three-bedroom rental to find Sharon and Lane sitting at the dining room table working on his math homework. I wish that they reacted like Munchkin when they saw me, but Lane just grunted a hello, while Sharon looked up at me with a mixture of sadness and worry. "Mary is out with the McDougal brothers again. They showed up here a half hour ago, I told her not to go with them, but she wouldn't listen." "The McDougal brothers are assholes," was Lane's addition to the conversation, without even looking up from the table. He wasn't wrong. The oldest McDougall brother, Calum, was a couple of years ahead of me at school and was a bully and a braggart. Two of his three brothers had followed in his esteemed footsteps, while the jury was still out on the youngest, James. "I'm going to go get her. Next time that those boys turn up in our yard, let Munchkin lose on them." "Alright, dinner will be in the oven when you get back. Given 'em hell, Bro." The McDougal brothers lived just outside Pellston in the closest thing to a mansion that you could find in our neck of the woods. Their family owned the largest construction and maintenance company in the area and had most of the Public Works contracts sown up, along with a not inconsiderable portion of the private construction in our region as well. Their parents spent most of their time in Sarasota, Florida, though, and the brothers had free rein while they were gone. As I drove up their long, paved driveway, automatic floodlights came on, illuminating the ostentatious columns that flanked the entrance to their house. I parked in front of the nearest bay of their four-car attached garage while noting that there was another three-car garage further off to the right. I idly wondered who got to park in which garage. Rich people problems, I guess. I walked to the front door and let myself in. From the foyer, I could hear the loud thump of music coming from the back of the house, so I headed that way. As I passed through the kitchen, I nearly bumped into James, who was holding a couple of empty serving bowls. He stopped dead when he saw me, looking nervous, clearly not expecting anyone else to be in their house. Certainly not me, anyway. "Hey James, I am here to get my sister. Where is she?" He hesitated a moment before pointing toward the back of the house. "She's in the game room playing pool with the guys. We didn't force her to come here or anything, if that's what you're worried about." "Maybe that's true, James. But you know she is still a minor, and I am her guardian, so I'm going to fetch her and bring her home." James didn't like the sound of that, but I turned my back on him and followed the music to a large, sunken room at the back of the house, which had an expensive-looking pool table in the middle. The remaining McDougal brothers were either playing pool or smoking up on one of the couches that were scattered around the outside of the room. Calum was presiding over the festivities, while the Pistons game was playing on a wall-mounted TV that was bigger than some movie screens. Despite his family's blue-collar roots, Calum looked like an overgrown frat boy, with his preppy clothes and fifty-dollar haircut. Mary was sitting in the middle of one of the couches, with a McDougal brother on one side and one of their hangers-on on the other. She looked somewhere between uncomfortable and scared, but she gave me a defiant scowl. The music stopped, and everyone looked to Calum and then back at me. There was a nervous tension in the air. "Hi Calum, I'm here for my sister." Calum was now in a bit of a spot; he couldn't just let me come into his home and give him orders without losing face with his brothers and their cronies. But he also knew, or at least suspected, that my sister was underage. And then there was always the Pipe Wrench Incident. That always made people nervous to be around me. "That's not my problem. She told my brother that she wanted to party, so she's here to party. No one forced her to come, and she seems to be having a good time." I wondered if all of Calum's dates looked as scared and uncomfortable as Mary did at that moment when they were having a 'good time'. "Well, since she is still a minor and I'm her guardian, it's a bit of a problem. Or it could be. But I don't want to put a damper on your evening, so I'll just bring Mary home with me and we'll call it a night." Calum looked toward James who had just come back into the room with bowls now filled with potato chips. "Is that true, Limp dick? Did you bring an underage girl home to party with us?" James began to sputter before Calum shook his head in disgust. He pointed over at Mary. "Get the fuck out of here, and don't come back until you're sixteen," he said before turning back to me. "And you. Just get the fuck out of our house." It was a silent drive home. Mary refused to even look at me, staring out the window instead. When we pulled into our yard, Munchkin came running up to greet us, and Mary finally spoke. "You didn't need to embarrass me like that. I'm old enough to make my own choices, you know." "The law says you're still a minor. And you'll always be my sister. Those guys are no good, Mary. You know that." "James is different. He isn't like the rest of them." "Maybe that's true, or maybe not. But you don't hang out in a nest of rattlesnakes, just because there is a garter snake in there with them that you think is cute." After a pause and some continued barking from Munchkin, Mary finally looked over at me. "You're not my dad, you know. You can't tell me what to do." And there it was. It always came down to the same thing with Mary; her father's rejection of her. Over the years, it had undermined her self-esteem and destroyed her self-worth to the point where I wondered if they would ever recover. Unfortunately, I was just smart enough to see the problem, but I had no idea how to fix it. A brother's love can only go so far, I guess. "I know, Mary. I know. But I love you, and I am so proud of you, and I just wish that was enough." We sat in silence for another minute before she replied. "I wish it was too." Chapter 2. It took a couple of days for Mrs. Anderson's new radiator line to arrive, and I gave her a call when I went to pick it up. "Hi, Mrs. And; Wilma. I was just picking up the replacement line for your radiator, and I was wondering if you needed anything else from town, while I'm here. I was going to come by and install the line later this afternoon if that works for you." "That's very kind of you, Davis. Would you mind picking up a few groceries for me? I can send the store a list, so they will be ready for you when you get there." A couple of my calls that day took longer than expected, so it was late in the afternoon again by the time I made it to Wilma's place. The early season snow had mostly melted away, and her yard was now a combination of gravel and thick soupy mud that could swallow a tire as easily as it could swallow a boot. "Thank you for picking the groceries up for me, you're too kind." "It was no trouble at all, especially since I was coming out this way anyway. If you don't mind me asking, how do you usually get them?" "I used to have a young man up the way who would help me with groceries and yard work, and other small things, but now I am pretty much on my own." "What happened to him? Did he move away?" "No, he still lives in the same place that he always has, but I am pretty sure that my family paid him more not to help me than I was paying for his assistance." "What? That seems like a crappy thing for them to do to you." Wilma gave a resigned sigh and then offered me a coffee while she told me her story. "I think I told you the last time you were here, that most of my family has moved on from this place, except my granddaughter Erin. The rest of them already have an agreement in place with a developer, the McDougals, to turn this property into a high-end resort for the Fudgies, so they have someplace to spend their money after visiting Mackinac Island." "Fudgies," was what the locals called the tourists from down south who descended on the upper peninsula in the summer. "If you don't mind me asking, just how much land do you own?" "Well, Phillip and I didn't have much to spend our money on over the years, so we bought up many of the nearby properties when they went up for sale. We ended up with at least a quarter mile of land that fronts onto the lake, without even really trying." I let out a low whistle. "That must be worth a small fortune. I can understand your family's interest." "At first, they didn't care if I stayed in the house after Phillip died. They figured that I would follow soon enough. After a few years, however, they started to get impatient, and it's fair to say that they are now actively encouraging me to leave, by foot, by car, or in a box. They have generously offered to put me out to pasture in a warehouse for the old and infirm, though, to await my impending doom. "With my cancer, their wish is finally going to come true. By this time next year, I will be sipping coffee with Phillip in whatever afterlife we atheists get to enjoy. Actually, who am I kidding? If there is an afterlife for Phillip and me, the first thing I'm going to do when I get there is get on my knees, undo his belt buckle, and then show him just how much I've missed him these past five years. Wilma looked a bit startled as if she had just remembered that I was still there. "I'm sorry, Davis. You probably didn't need to hear that last part. I just miss him so much. I still see him in the trees and along the shore, and I sometimes hear his voice in the wind off the lake." "It's all good, Wilma. I just hope that my brother and sisters get to experience the kind of love that you and Phillip had someday." "What about you, Davis? Don't you deserve to experience that kind of love as well?" "Maybe I deserve it, Wilma, but I don't think I am going to find it. It's been tough; real tough, looking after my family all these years. I have done things that I am not proud of, but that needed to be done. I don't regret them; I would do anything to protect the people I love. But I doubt that anyone would be able to love me, once they found out what I've done." "I think you are selling yourself short, Davis. We are all artists, and we are all worthy of love." With that, Wilma offered to top up my coffee before I started replacing the broken line. As the evening's shadows deepened, I saw her watching me with compassion and concern in her eyes. Once I was finished, I felt her hand on my shoulder, and she gave it an empathetic squeeze. "A penny for your thoughts?" I stopped what I was doing and turned to look at her. "It's my sister, Mary. I am losing her. She is so hurt and angry that she is beginning to make bad choices, and I don't know how to help her. I've tried to be her brother, parent, and friend, but I'm failing at all three." Wilma offered no judgment, good or bad. She just listened, and when I finished, she spoke. "Bring her over this Sunday around noon. Tell her to wear some old clothes that she doesn't mind getting dirty. You can come too if you would like and bring your little brother to do some fishing, but Mary will be spending her time with me." It wasn't easy convincing Mary to come to Wilma's. If you have spent time dealing with teenage girls, you know that they can be as stubborn as late-season ice on the lake. In the end, I resorted to threats and bribery to get her onboard, but she assured me that she would hate every minute she was there. Lane came with us as well, with the promise that we could spend the afternoon fishing off the end of Wilma's dock. By the time we arrived, Mary was sullenly glued to the passenger seat and wouldn't look up from her phone. Wilma waited a few minutes for Mary, but she stubbornly refused to leave the truck. Eventually, Wilma pulled on her rubber boots and walked over to the truck. She looked up at Mary and started speaking. "There are three things that I know are true. "The first, I've already shared with your brother. We are all artists because we are all worthy of love. But many of us lose our way. We are hurt and abandoned, and we are buried in shame. I was like that for many years. But my husband, Phillip, found me and taught me what it is to be loved. Not just the physical act; although he taught me about that as well; but the certainty that I was seen, known, and cherished. He showed me that I am an artist. You are an artist too. "Second, I am old, I have cancer, and I will die. Not today, and hopefully not tomorrow, but soon. And that is okay; we all die. I have lived a good life. And when I do, I hope that Phillip will be waiting for me with a glass of chilled white wine and his beautiful smile. My art may linger for a while once I am gone but, eventually, it too will be lost. "Third, the world is full of bastards. Your brother tells me that you and he are both bastards. I will tell you a secret that I have shared with very few people; I am a bastard too. "My mother was beautiful but poor. Her parents lost everything during the Great Depression, and she worked as a housemaid for a rich and powerful man to support her family. When she fell pregnant, he put her out on the street and refused to recognize her child, his daughter; me. Because of his rejection, I spent too many years steeped in shame and self-loathing. But eventually, I learned a hard truth; my father was a bastard by choice, while I was a bastard by birth. And those of us who are bastards by birth must never let the bastards by choice win. "Come inside when you're ready. I'm too old and it's too cold for me to stand here waiting for you." With that, Wilma turned and slowly made her way back to the house. Surprisingly, after a minute, Mary followed. When they reached the door, Wilma turned to look back at me. "It's time for you boys to go fishing. There is a warm breeze off the lake that will bring you good luck." Lane and I made our way down the hill to the dock in silence, our fishing rods, ice chest, and tackle box in hand. Unlike a seasonal dock that would be taken out of the lake each fall, Wilma's dock could be used year-round and was built with heavy timbers and steel bracing, so it could withstand the crushing force of the winter's ice. When we reached the dock, we felt the warm wind that Wilma had promised, and we chose our lures and began to cast. After a half hour of fishing, Lane broke the silence. "Do you think it's my fault?" "Do I think what's your fault, Bud?" "That mom left us. That she never came back. Do you think it's my fault?" I sighed as I thought about my answer. "No. It's not your fault. It's no one's fault, really, maybe not even hers. It's funny though, she brought some amazing people into this world. I wish she could have seen how incredible you and your sisters have turned out. But she made her choice, and that's on her, not you." Lane thought about my answer before he continued. "But you would be better off without me. Sharon would have more time to study for the scholarship she will need to get away from here. I try to be nice to Mary, to make her feel better, but I just seem to make things worse for her as well. And I see how hard you work to keep our family together. I feel like you would all be better off without me. If I weren't here, maybe Mom would come back home." I took a deep breath and tried to push down the anger that threatened to overwhelm me; anger at my mother for abandoning us, anger at myself for never being enough, and anger at a world that would leave my brother feeling like it would be better off if he didn't exist. I felt the wind off the lake as it blew across my face, drying my unshed tears before they were formed. As I was wondering how to unbreak my brother's heart, a particularly strong gust of wind blew through and Lane's fishing rod bent into a deep arc, the tip dancing wildly as a fish fought against the line. "Dad! Help;" The drag clicked furiously as the fish pulled line, as Lane fought to keep his rod tip up. I quickly set my rod aside and braced him, my hands held loosely beside his as he fought to reel in his catch. We worked together for what seemed like an eternity before he finally fought his fish to the side of the dock. I grabbed the net and saw that he had hooked a steelhead trout that was easily two feet long and must have weighed at least eight pounds if not more. It was a wonder the drag held steady, and his line didn't break during the fight. As I scooped up his catch, the steelhead's silver sides shimmered like polished chrome in the fading light, and it was so big that it took up over half the ice chest I had brought along to store our catch. Lane was flushed with excitement at landing such an impressive fish, and I was so proud of him that my heart almost ached. "Nice work, Son." He just looked up at me for a moment before throwing his arms around me in a hug. In the time since our mother left, he had never called me by anything other than my name. I never tried to be his dad; I didn't think I was qualified, but I guess that all of us need someone in our lives who will love us without conditions or end. "Never think that you're a burden on me or the family. Maybe you need a bit more from us right now than you can give back, but that's alright. Because sixty years from now, when I am old and can't wipe my ass anymore, you are going to be paying me back in spades, alright?" With that, we went back to fishing in companionable silence. I pulled in a few smaller ones, but nothing to match Lane's steelhead. A few hours later, the wind had picked up and it was getting colder, so we packed up our equipment and made our way back toward the house. Halfway down the dock, however, a huge gust of wind swept through, and I heard a cry followed by a loud splash. Turning back, I saw that Lane's foot had slipped through a broken slat, and he had fallen off the dock. Without thinking, I dropped the ice box and rods and jumped into the water to help him. When I got him to shore, he couldn't put any weight on his ankle, and any efforts to do so were met with cries of pain. I quickly collected our discarded fishing gear and set it to one side, before helping him to slowly make his way back up the hill. The November chill quickly took hold of us as we walked, plastering our damp clothing to our skin, and we were shivering uncontrollably by the time we reached the house. I knocked but it took a minute for Wilma and Mary to come out from the studio at the back of the house. "I am sorry to cut things short, but Lane had an accident down at the dock and he sprained or maybe even broke his ankle. I am going to have to take him to the hospital in Petoskey to get it looked at before it swells up any further." Wilma looked at me with concern. "Maybe you should hold off at least for a little while. My granddaughter, Erin, the pediatrician, is coming for dinner tonight and should be here any minute. Why don't we let her take a look at it before you head into town? And let's get you out of those clothes; you must be freezing. I still have some of Phillip's things in the closet that might fit you." A few minutes later, I had changed into a pair of comfortable but slightly musty-smelling pants, with a warm sweater over a well-worn collared shirt. I was both taller and wider than Phillip had been, at least in the twilight of his years, so the pants were a bit short, while the sweater was tight across my shoulders. While I changed, Mary and Wilma had set Lane up on the couch with his ankle elevated on some pillows. I helped him change out of his wet clothing and into an old sweatshirt and shorts that fit over his swollen ankle. Once Lane was settled, Wilma and I talked quietly in the kitchen. "It's getting late, and you must be getting hungry, but I don't think I have enough to feed everyone." I thought for a moment. "We may be in luck. Lane caught the biggest steelhead I have ever seen earlier this afternoon, but I left it down by the dock after the accident. If you have a few potatoes and maybe a veg or two, I am sure I can whip something up that would feed us all." Wilma looked at me with a sly smile. "He cooks, he plumbs, and he cares for his family, all while cutting a dashing figure in my late husband's favorite sweater. You, Mr. Crawford, are a catch." "I am not sure about that, Wilma," I replied with a laugh, "But either way, this catch had better go and get our earlier catch, so I can get started on dinner." It took me almost half an hour to collect our fishing gear and bring it back up to the truck. By the time I was done, an older SUV was parked behind my truck, which meant that Erin had arrived. After I loaded the gear, I used the fishing knife and stained plastic cutting board that I kept in a bin under the back seat to clean and filet the steelhead before heading inside. From the doorway, I could see a head of sandy-blonde hair pulled back into a loose ponytail sticking up from the far side of the couch, and I heard a calm and melodic voice talking to Lane while Wilma and Mary looked on. I was so lost in that voice that I almost jumped when the latch on the door caught behind me. The head of sandy-blonde hair looked up at the sound, revealing a pair of amber, almost golden eyes. "You must be the father," said that same melodic voice, as those eyes bore their way into my soul. "It's Davis Crawford, and I'm the older brother." "Erin Anderson, nice to meet you. Can you get hold of your parents? We might need to take Lane to the hospital for some X-rays." "No," I replied more harshly than I intended. "No," I tried again, more gently but with an edge to my voice. "Our parents aren't around; I am as close as you're going to get. I am Lane's legal guardian if that helps." There was a slight pause as her amber eyes shifted from surprise to curiosity. "That helps a lot. Why don't you give me 15 minutes or so to take a look at this brave dude's ankle, then we can talk over some options, once I have a better sense of what's going on." "That okay with you, Bud?" I asked as I walked over to the couch. "Yeah, that should be fine," he replied, but his eyes were wide, and his cheeks were flushed. For a moment, I was worried that he might be running a fever, but then I got my first look at Erin, and I understood. Maybe she wasn't classically beautiful like a movie star or swimsuit model, but she was lean and fit, and from what I could see, had more than enough curves in all the right places. It was her face, however, that captured me. She had delicate features accentuated by her high cheekbones, and there was a softness to her expression that spoke of empathy and kindness. Her eyes, though intense, had a warmth that put me instantly at ease. I realized much too late that I had been staring at Erin for an uncomfortably long time while holding the bag of steelhead filets out like some kind of sacrificial offering. While I stood frozen, the look in Erin's beautiful eyes had shifted from curiosity to amusement; I would assume at the fish-carrying simpleton standing in front of her. "Thanks, Dr. Anderson; err, Erin. I appreciate your taking a look at him and; I am going to go cook us up some fish before I make an even bigger ass of myself." Wilma joined me in the kitchen, while Erin continued to assess Lane's injured ankle. We spent the next few minutes dicing the potatoes and veggies and tossing them with some olive oil, salt, and pepper before sprinkling the filets of steelhead with a mixture of herbs. I topped the fish with some slices of a less-than-fresh, but still edible, lemon I found in the fridge, before putting the whole thing in the oven. To be continued in part 2. Based on a post by CleverGenericName, in 4 parts, for Literotica.

Miracle On Route 34: Part 3 Being naughty can be a very good thing, if he needs help getting jolly. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. "Just when I thought it couldn't get better;" Ginny sighed, lost in bliss. "You certainly know what a woman wants." "I aim to please." Santa said cheerfully, putting one arm around her waist and holding her close while he guided the sleigh. "Think we might've sated you for a while?" "Hmm, maybe for a bit, right?" she purred, stretching like a cat before sitting forward and looking down over the earth, lit by clusters of lights that punctuated the darkness of Christmas Eve. It wasn't long before she began to giggle. "Schilling for your thoughts." Santa said, giving her tit a squeeze. "Well, you probably don't remember, but we've met before," she mentioned lightly, turning her head to wink at him. "I sure remember it." "Oh? Do tell." "Well," she said casually, her thoughts drifting back. "I was sixteen and my girlfriends and I were at the mall. We saw you and decided to sit on your lap. So Cari and I were sitting on you at the same time, squirming our asses on you and kept whispering naughty things in your ears, things we wanted to do to you, you know?" Santa didn't respond for several moments. "See?" Ginny said, smirking. "Told you that you didn't remember." "What; was the date of that, Virginia?" he asked warily. "December fifteenth, eight years ago, about seven-thirty pm," she said. "I still have a photo. Why?" "Because I wasn't in your city on December fifteenth eight years ago," he said with reluctance. "I was in Lahina on Maui, judging a naked limbo contest at a luau." She was silent for some time. "You're; you're sure?" Santa nodded. "Oh, God;" Ginny whispered, her eyes distant. "That means that Cari and I were grinding on some creepy mall Santa; oh, shit, I could feel him getting hard and everything!" Ginny scrunched her face up in revulsion and was flapping her arms in horror. "Oh, God. Blah! Blah! Blah!" Santa's roaring laughter echoed through the darkness as his date for the evening struggled to not puke off the side of the sleigh and onto the unsuspecting town below. Silent Runnings. She always kind of assumed that the sleigh made little or no noise when it touched down on a roof. After all, what kept some survivalist gun nut from trying to blow Santa away with his collection of automatic rifles when he heard some noise he couldn't account for? The sleigh glided silently onto the roof, the blades letting out little more than a hiss and the patter of the reindeer's hooves barely audible. Santa leapt out lightly and assisted her in exiting the sleigh before grinning at her. "Now, I won't be long, just hang tight and stay near the sleigh, if you're within the Gellar Field, you'll keep warm, alright?" Ginny raised an eyebrow in his direction, nonplussed. "Um, 'excuse me? I'm here with Santa Fucking Claus on Christmas Motherfucking Eve. How many times can a girl say that? If you think for one second I'm not delivering presents with you, then you're even more stupid that Krampus. I'm coming." Santa seemed hesitant. "Virginia, I've been at this since Proto-Hittite times, one way or another. I'm kind of an expert and I don't want you to hurt;" "Oh, get real," she snorted, pushing past him toward the chimney. She was glad to note that the 'Gellar Field', whatever the hell that was, seemed to be keeping her warm at this distance. "If your fat ass can fit down a chimney with that huge bag, so can mine." She clambered over the lip of the chimney and eased herself down inside it. Santa watched silently as she wriggled out of sight. There was no noise for several seconds. Finally Ginny spoke, her voice coming up the flue. "Okay, kinda stuck here, with my nose pressed into my own asshole. Little help?" Santa chuckled lightly and reached for a can of grease. Piloting a Ginny. "You're getting better at this, I must say," Santa remarked as he rummaged through his bag of presents while Ginny guided the sleigh. "Last person who drove the sleigh for me, the reindeer resisted a lot. They like you." "Oh?" Ginny replied, twisting the reins slightly and veering the sleigh team southwest. "Who was she?" Santa cleared his throat. "Actually, it was Krampus. Well, he was Pete back then, and it was over six hundred years ago." It took Ginny a moment to recover from her shock and concentrate on guiding the sleigh. Fortunately, the reindeer seemed to know where they were going. "Six hundred;" "Yup," Santa confirmed. "The Belgian monks were still getting the recipe for Stella Artois right the last time one of my kids helped me out." "But what about all your wives you were telling me about?" she asked. "They must've been in the sleigh before." Santa shrugged. "Yeah, people have been in it, I've taken them places, but you and Pete are the only two who have ever helped me on Christmas Eve." She felt herself grow warm, and for once it wasn't because she was wet and horny. "I'm really helping you?" He nodded. "It may be that I'm late because of the donnybrook back at your place, Virginia, but that wasn't your fault, it's just what was meant to be. I was meant to be put behind and now you're meant to be driving this sleigh while I get organized. No matter how many me's there are out there, it won't make a difference unless you're here tonight. It's fated to be that way." Ginny didn't know what to say. She just calmly guided the sleigh, feeling a contentment she'd never quite known before. She was dimly aware of some other shadowy iteration of Santa's sleigh streaking by some miles to the north and waved absently. She couldn't explain why any of this made sense, but it did. She really was different after all. A house below them shone with a golden light in the dark and she turned the reigns easily to guide the reindeer in its direction. There were over a dense residential area, the streets lined with endless numbers of small homes and semis. They glided onto a roof and clambered out. She followed Santa and his present sack down the chimney. In spite of his bulk, he slid down the tight shaft in a way that made her cunt inexplicably wet. "Now that I think of it," she whispered as she wriggled down with him. "How do we get into houses where there's no chimney?" "It was a lot easier before central heating," he answered, almost upside down as he worked his way toward the ground. "For lack of a better term, it's just B & E, I guess. I've got the keys and security codes for every residence on earth." "Wow," she grunted as she twisted and wiggled, her tits squashed to her mouth. If they'd had more time she would have sucked on them for a bit as a reward to herself. "Even Kim Jong-Un?" "Yeah, but he's not getting anything you want to know about for Christmas," Santa muttered. "He's a very bad boy." "So, what, like a leaky bag of flaming panda shit?" she mused, occupying herself as she strained to keep up. "Because that's what he kinda deserves." "Christmas is the one night of the year we don't discuss politics, Virginia." Santa mentioned as he finally freed himself of the confines of the flue and dusted himself off. He helped Ginny out as well, smiling and kissing her nose as she held her off the ground. She blushed and let him put her down, moving to a corner of the living room and watching intently. The house they were in was not big, a modest home for a small family. Santa was rummaging around in his bag, absently noshing on the cookies left on a table near the tree. The tree itself was rather sparse on gifts, something Santa seemed to be rectifying. Ginny didn't notice the other person in the room until it was too late. "So there you are, big man;" Ginny started at the voice but Santa merely stood and turned around, smiling warmly. At the entrance to the room was a woman in a robe. She was older than Ginny, but not more than in her late twenties or early thirties. She had the look of a tired mom. "Been waiting a long, long time to prove to myself that you were real and the presents I couldn't account for just came out thin air," she sighed, nodding. She had sandy-brown hair, done in a long bob. Her face was pretty enough, but you could see in her eyes that sleep was more of an afterthought than anything. "But here you are." "It's good to see you, Linda." Santa said warmly, moving toward her and hugging her. She sighed as he embraced her and Ginny smiled, knowing exactly how content and relieved Linda felt at the moment, whoever the hell she was. "Whoa, did I just get jealous of some girl hugging Santa?" "I can't believe you're here in all your chubby glory," Linda remarked, smiling up at him. "It's a dream come true." Santa nodded. "Little Karen's been very good this year, Linda. She's a real blessing. I brought her the puppy she wanted." Ginny frowned and looked down at a small object that was obviously a puppy, wrapped prettily in Christmas paper and sporting a golden bow on its snout. The puppy panted happily, curled up and went to sleep beneath the tree. "She'll love it," Linda said quietly, her eyes shining. "She'll be so thrilled." "I know she will." Santa said, smiling and placing a hand on Linda's cheek. "Sorry things didn't work out with Bob. He doesn't know what he's missing." "Thanks, I keep telling myself that too," Linda said, dabbing at her eye. "Have you got an STD for his stocking, maybe?" "No," Santa chuckled. "But you need to know that everything's going to be fine, Linda. You've made it this far, you're raising an amazing girl and you own this place now. If I could give you Mother of the Year, I would. But I can't, not my department, so that leaves me to ask; what do you want for Christmas, Linda?" Linda looked into his eyes before her hands reached down and began fumbling with his wide, black belt. Ginny shook her head and sighed, knowing exactly why Linda's reaction was so instinctual. The mother turned her head and seemed to notice the girl in the abbreviated elf costume for the first time. "Oh," she said, her hands still undoing the belt. "Is she your chaperone, to make sure we behave?" "No, she's not my chaperone," Santa said, smiling and shaking his head. "She's my indispensable helper, without whom Christmas wouldn't come this year." Ginny blushed at his description of her. "Oh, okay," Linda said, kneeling and shimmying his red pants down and freeing his monstrous cock. "As long as she doesn't interrupt me enjoying my present." Ginny blushed again, but this time the hair on the back of her neck went up and her eyes narrowed. She folded her arms across her chest, leaned against the wall and watched silently. Very silently. "Wow," Linda mused, taking his cock in both hands and staring at it. "Just when I thought nothing could get longer than that white beard of yours." Ginny blinked and frowned for a moment. White beard? It suddenly occurred to her that Linda was seeing the Santa she had always expected to see, a fat, jolly old man with a long white beard, rosy cheeks and the rest of the Dickensian nonsense. To Ginny, he still looked like the towering, red-bearded lumbersexual she knew him to actually be. Whatever sort of glamour he radiated, it worked even in sexual situations. Without a pause, Linda took Santa's thick cock into her mouth with a sigh and began bobbing back and forth along its length. Her wet lips formed a tight seal around the shaft, her hands holding on to Santa's thighs for balance. "She's doing that all wrong," Ginny sniffed to herself. "He likes it when one hand is pumping along the shaft behind your mouth and the other one is teasing his balls. I should know." Santa turned his head, smiled at her and nodded. Ginny blushed and shut up. He took Linda's head gently in his hands, caressing her hair while she sucked his cock, letting her take all the time she liked. She undid her robe with one hand, letting it fall to a puddle at her knees, now naked. She had a mom bod, Ginny noted, not bad, she was trying to keep herself fit, probably with Tae Bo and jogging or spinning, if she could find the time. Her tits were somewhat pointy, but she wasn't repulsive by any means. Ginny felt herself getting warm as she watched, one of her hands coming up to caress her tits while the other snaked down inside the short green skirt she was wearing and beneath her thong, teasing her understandably gooey cunt. She watched intently as Linda pushed farther and farther down Santa's seemingly endless shaft, breathing through her nose as she tried to reach the root. The hand she kept on his thigh for balance squeeze his pale flesh while the other was massaging her tits, pinching the nipples. She moaned around his cock as he grew harder in her mouth. Ginny leaned her head against the wall, trying to not make noise as she pleasured herself, fingers teasing through her slippery folds or circling her throbbing clit. The hand she had on her tits mimicked Linda's squeezing and pinching her nipples, causing little needles of stinging delight to shoot through her. Linda's hand moved down between her legs and her fingers began churning inside her cunt. She moaned loudly as she pleasured herself. Normally Ginny would have thought she'd wake her kid, but Santa probably had some weird sound-dampening field just to keep things like this from happening. Typical. Ginny bit her lip as she watched, her skin blushing pink as she worked herself into a silent frenzy, her wet core beginning to blossom as Linda sucked and bobbed on Santa's cock faster and faster; Both women let out a loud moan as they came, pleasure bubbling up through Ginny's body while her fingers worked madly inside her clenching, slippery tunnel. Her knees buckled and she went to the floor, still fucking herself. Linda grunted and began swallowing as Santa came, finally pulling her mouth off and panting heavily, jerking his throbbing cock frantically and splattering his pearly cum across her tits with great eagerness. Ginny slowly lifted her head, gazing at Santa and Linda through heavily-lidded eyes. She'd cum so hard just from fingering herself. Was it her proximity to Santa that caused all her sensations to be so heightened? Santa knelt as well, hugging Linda to himself and whispering in her ear. She slowly pulled her arms up and embraced him, smiling against his shoulder and nodding gently, her eyes still closed. After holding her for some time, her took her by the chin and lifted her gaze to meet his. "Okay, back to bed with you," he said gently. "You'll sleep very well tonight and Karen will come to wake you." Linda smiled dreamily and rubbed her nose against Santa's before giving it a kiss. She stood, slipped her robe back on, winked at him and left without another word. Santa watched her leave and nodded in satisfaction. "Just what she needed," he said to himself. "Okay, Virginia, I'm going to finish these last few presents and then we're; Virginia?" But Ginny was still kneeling, slumped to one side against the wall and snoring. Santa chuckled and finished the presents before picking her up and holding her limp body under one arm and his giant sack over the other shoulder before disappearing up the flue in the blink of an eye. Carnal Knowledge. "Taip! Taip! Mano Dievas!" Kuni moaned loudly as she sat on her sister's face, grinding her cunt eagerly down onto Minna's mouth. Her blonde twin clamped her arms around her sister's thighs tightly as she lapped hungrily at the slick lips above. Santa was kneeling between Minna's legs, holding them wide and thrusting back and forth, his cock plunging in and out of her. Ginny was leaning against the wall once again, trying to not look exasperated. The Lithuanian girls were writhing and grinding in a frenzy, clearly enjoying their early Christmas present. It wasn't like they'd crept down and surprised Ginny and Santa, as Linda had, they had actually written to Santa, saying that their parents were away for the holiday and they wanted him to come and fuck them for Christmas. They'd been waiting patiently in the living room when Santa and Ginny appeared out of the chimney, the twins wearing nothing but their little cheerleader uniforms. Minna groaned shamelessly while she lashed her Kuni's twat with her tongue, shuddering as Santa's iron-hard rod nearly split her in half. Ginny had to admit, the blonde twins had rocking bodies, trim and tight from whatever activities they were involved in. She'd have to get into P90-X or Crossfit if she was ever going to compete with these two. "Senelis!" Minna gasped, sliding a finger up inside her sister, which Kuni ground on shamelessly. She gyrated her hips, fucking back against Santa, her fingernails digging into her sister's ass cheeks as she endured the battering waves of pleasure. "Ah, Duok man sunku!" "Pasakykite pra¨ome;" Santa replied, smiling slyly. "Pra¨om!" Minna wailed, her body almost thrashing. "Pra¨om pra¨om pra¨om! Nekankink manęs!" Santa nodded and leaned forward, pressing Minna's legs almost back against her body, his weight over her now as he sank his cock down inside her. The blonde girl almost screamed in pleasure. Kuni grappled onto Santa's neck and kissed him greedily, churning her cunt down onto Minna's glistening face. "Unreal," Ginny muttered. "And I thought I was a relentless horny machine. But you, sir, take the cake." "I would expect you of all people to understand by now," Santa said cheerfully. "Minna and Kuni have been very good this year. They're both at the top of their class, they've been socially active regarding building homeless shelters, they're both” "Over the age of eighteen?" Ginny bit out. "It's Lithuania, that wouldn't matter," Santa pointed out. "They've been very good girls and I'm duty-bound to give them what they want for Christmas." "So no point deductions for incest?" Ginny asked somewhat testily. "There weren't for you and your brother, were there?" he replied while Kuni nipped at his skin. Ginny blushed again and stopped talking. She watched while Kuni pulled herself off her sister's mouth and hastily clambered around to lie on top of her, kissing her sister while squirming her wet cunt down on Minna's. She groaned loudly when Santa pulled out of the girl below and pushed deep inside her. "Dear diary," Ginny muttered. "Having a great time in Vilnius, watching Santa skewer Lithuanian sisters;" Santa grunted and pushed in hard, his hips trembling as he started to cum. Kuni and Minna screamed into one another's mouths, hips bucking furiously. He pulled out of Kuni and slammed back into Minna, filling her with cum as well before both sisters scrambled to their knees while he stood. They swallowed his cock greedily, taking turns pumping the shaft while the other sucked on it. They kissed around the throbbing cock, licking the pearly cum off one another's faces. "Esate labai geros mergaitės," Santa breathed, holding them both gently by the back of their heads while they sucked hungrily. "Keep up the good work and Santa will see you again next year;" "If we're not still here with these two whores next Christmas;" Ginny thought darkly. Santa’s copilot. Ginny was guiding the sleigh, but she kept looking back at Santa, trying not to smirk. He was sitting beside her, a rather blank stare on his face, his eyes a little red around the edges. "I'm still sorta hungry;" he said somewhat absently. "So you actually thought 'Colorado Gold' was a brand of flour used to make baked goods?" "Note to self," he murmured. "Do not eat the brownies left out for you in Denver;" Basement Bound. Ginny followed Santa as they crept down the stairs toward the basement apartment, a prismatic glow on the wall ahead of them indicating a tree was nearby. They rounded a corner and paused. A young man dressed in X-Men boxers and a white t-shirt almost walked into them as he rubbed his eyes. He stared at them for a moment, saying absolutely nothing. After a long, awkward pause, Santa reached back into his sack and pulled out a wrapped gift which he slowly handed to the kid. The kid took it equally slowly and unwrapped it, his eyes widening as several deluxe editions of the newest PC games were revealed. The kid smiled sheepishly and sighed. "Thanks, now that I know you're real." "You don't seem happy, Kevin," Santa said, obviously concerned. "You've been great all year and these are what you wanted, right?" "I; yeah, they are," sighed the kid. "At least, that's what I told everyone I wanted. My friends and I, we're all gamers, and this is amazing, but;" "But;" Santa pressed. "Well, Christmas is also my birthday," Kevin said. "Here I am, eighteen finally, and I still haven't had sex with a girl yet." Santa smiled. "Well, I normally deal exclusively in Christmas wishes rather than birthdays, but perhaps this year I can help you out there, Kevin." Kevin raised an eyebrow. "Virginia," Santa stated, looking at her. "I give you Kevin the Boy. Return unto me Kevin the Man." Ginny couldn't believe what she said next. "Thought you'd never ask, Big Red;" She walked forward and took the games out of Kevin's hands, tossing them over her shoulder. Santa grabbed them hastily out of the air as Ginny poked a finger into Kevin's chest and pressed him up against the wall. His eyes were wide, not at all sure what was happening. "Santa's already given you your Christmas presents," Ginny said as she knelt in front of him and tugged at his boxers. "Which means it's up to me to give you a happy birthday;" She pulled the boxers down and tossed them aside. His cock was limp but she could already tell it was swelling with excitement. Rather than teasing the poor virgin, Ginny stroked his shaft and slid her mouth all the way down, deep-throating him. Kevin shuddered and groaned loudly. "Make all the noise you want, you won't wake your parents upstairs," Ginny mentioned, pulling her mouth off his cock for a moment and pumping the shaft with her hand while she looked up at him. "The big man here has some sort of sound-dampening field or some shit so that he doesn't get caught busting into people's houses." Kevin's hands flattened against the wall and his fingers flexed as she slid her mouth down his length again before bobbing back and forth in a slow rhythm. She felt his fingers take her by the hair and begin kneading, lost in this clearly new delight. She hummed gently, vibrating her mouth around his sensitive skin. "Well, look at you," she remarked, smiling as she pulled back and gazed at his now hard and throbbing cock, glistening with the wetness of her mouth. "That's a nice dick you've got there, Kevin. You're a grower, I'm impressed." Kevin took a deep breath. "Maybe, but it doesn't look like much when it's limp. The one time I let a girl at school see it, I was nervous and it shrunk, so she was laughing at me." "Then I'll give you a tip before I fuck you, Kevin," Ginny said, stroking the shaft and spitting on it, to keep it moist while she instructed him. "Girls can be hideous cunts about that sort of thing sometimes, but they have their own insecurities. So never bring your insecurity to the ballgame. You need to be turned on and your Johnson here on the rise by the time you get naked for her." "Uh-huh?" he said somewhat uncertainly, shivering as she bent her thumb so that the pad pressed against the top of his mushroom head every time she stroked down. He couldn't believe this was happening. Some hot Elf-chick who looked like a Warcraft mod was blowing him! "So from now on, you dominate, you got it?" Ginny said. "Make her get naked or make her turn you on so that she can see how big your cock is before you ever get out of your boxers. No girl is gonna say no to this thing when it's fully inflated, I promise." "R-really?" Kevin asked. Ginny kept her eyes locked with his but reached down under her panties for several moment before bringing her fingers up for display. They glistened wetly in the dim light. "It's made me horny, champ. And because of that cock, I need to fuck you. You with me?" Kevin just thunked his head back against the wall, closed his eyes and nodded. "Oh, and don't worry about trying to last," Ginny added. "Being around the Red Machine makes you want to fuck and cum all night. You'll be fine." She swallowed his cock with a will, determined to give this kid the best first time anyone had ever had. Her hand followed her mouth along the shaft and she hummed, swirling her tongue along its length. The kid wasn't Santa, but this would be a perfectly good ride for any girl worth fucking once he had his confidence. Her free hand worked its way back inside her panties and began fingering, teasing her wet folds and slipping inside, getting her ready for the main event. "Umm, do you want to fuck me, Kevin?" she asked, smiling up at him. "Do you want to fuck my cunt good and hard?" "Uh; yes;" he whimpered. "Say it like you mean it, Thor," she insisted, pressing her thumb along the throbbing vein on the bottom of his thick shaft. "The girl wants confidence. This cock is worth your best effort." He took several deep breaths before looking down at her and nodding. "I want to fuck you." "You do?" she asked before sliding him back down her throat. "No," he said finally, taking her under the arms and pulling her up. Ginny exhaled suddenly as his cock popped out of her mouth unexpectedly and he spun her around to press up against the wall. "I don't want to fuck you; I will fuck you." "That's my boy," Ginny breathed, her eyes flashing with sudden lust and delight. She spread her legs and tilted her hips forward, eager to feel him inside her. "Fuck me good and hard, Kevin!" "K-zon," the boy almost growled, pressing his throbbing cockhead against her entrance. "My gaming tag is K-zon and that's what the girls will call me when I fuck them!" Ginny nodded eagerly. "Good. Give it to me, K-zon;" She moaned loudly as he pushed inside her, heedless of any sense of timing or technique, but eager to be deep in a woman. He squeezed her sides as he trembled, overcome by the wet, tight sensation of her cunt gripping him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and one leg slung over his hip as she looked into his eyes. Ginny began a pumping motion with her hips, sliding back and forth on his cock while K-zon was paralyzed by the flood of pleasure. "Alright, slugger," she whispered in a husky voice as she fucked herself on him. "Let's bust this first nut of yours quick, so you know what to expect. Don't hold back, just pound my cunt until you blow, got it?" He nodded as he buried his face in her shoulder and started pumping awkwardly with his hips, his whole body trembling. Ginny felt an unreal flush of heat coursing through her already, an intense orgasm building up inside. Holy shit, was she turned on and about to get off because she was mentoring a virgin? She pulled Kevin tight against herself and shivered, letting out a gasp while he moaned and jammed his hips up tight against hers, she could feel his cock twitching inside her as he spunked, Her own orgasm flooded over her, molten bubbles of ecstasy popping by the millions throughout her sweating, slick frame. He almost buckled at the knees, collapsing against her, panting like he'd run a marathon. Ginny smiled and caressed his hair, feeling his still-hard cock throbbing inside her. She ran her fingers over his cheek and looked into his eyes. "Ready to keep going?" she asked. "Second one's usually even better." He nodded and she pulled him down to his knees while she got on all fours, wiggling her invitingly. She winked back at him. "You know what to do, K-zon," she purred. "Show me what you're gonna do to the girls this coming year;" Without another thought, he took Ginny by the hips and slid his cock deep inside her again. Ginny moaned loudly, lowering her head to the floor and pushed back against him. She felt him begin to push back and forth and matched his rhythm by squeezing her cunt muscles around him as he slid in. His fingers dug into her hips and ass cheeks delightfully. She could tell he might last a little longer this time, but not by much. Then again, she wasn't here to teach him to be a sex god, she was here to pop his cherry and give him a birthday to remember. "Umm, right there, big man;" she panted, surprised that she meant what she was saying. She wasn't just stroking his fragile ego, she was quite serious, because he was hitting a spot in her cunt that she really liked. He had a long enough cock that it touched her pleasure spot and he was just wide enough to pleasantly stretch her so that she knew she was being fucked properly. With confidence, this kid would be a good lay. Kevin slapped his thighs against her ass cheeks and she squeaked and yelped in response. Her gooey cunt clenched him tightly, utilizing those vaginal contractions she seemed to be so damned expert at tonight. "Fuck;" Kevin grunted as he pumped his hips, his chest now glistening with sweat. "This is so much better than my hand or a fleshlight!" "Uh, and you feel a lot fucking better than a vibe," Ginny panted, still face-down and ass-up. "You're gonna make them scream, K-zon;" He seemed encouraged by her words and pumped harder, determined to make Ginny and himself cum again. He seemed to have found his rhythm and fucked her steadily, his eyes closed as he lost himself in the unreal sensation of sex with a live girl. Ginny bit at the knuckle of her middle finger, aware of how flushed and warm her body was. She could feel her wetness trickling down over her stomach from her cunt, since her ass was perched in the air. The slick, sucking noises of her sex were unmistakable. "Oh, you're doing really good, K-zon," she said breathily. "You're gonna have me cumming again before long!" Kevin seemed to be beyond words as he merely nodded hastily and kept fucking her, eyes closed and back arched. The slapping noise of his thighs against her ass was a wet one now, since they were both sweating profusely. She could feel the damp perspiration in her hairline, her mouth open and she wiped at it when she realized she was almost drooling. "Yes, K-zon!" she gasped, using the name he wanted again, pushing back against him but still letting him control the action. "Fucking make me cum! Don't hold back! Uh, fuck!" Kevin jammed his hips against her suddenly and cried out, a sound that Ginny echoed half a second later. Rapture splintered through her as she came, feeling him slamming against her as he climaxed, his pearly offering now deep inside her. Through glassy eyes, she looked around for Santa, to see if he was watching, but he was nowhere in sight. Kevin seemed ready to fall over, exhausted, but she gently pushed backward until he sat on his behind with her in his lap, facing away. Slowly she turned around and laid him on the floor, his cock still deep inside her. She put her hands on his shoulders and smiled down at him, her nipples tracing little patterns over his chest as she did so. "That was amazing, K-zon," she said quietly. "A really great addition to my night." He was still breathing heavily but nodded at her. "Thanks. It was more than I could have hoped for. I;I guess it's been a busy evening for you this way?" "Well, you're my only virgin to this point, if that's what you're asking," Ginny sighed. "The big red machine has fucked me more times tonight that I care to remember and I was nearly raped to death by Krampus, so this was exactly the sort of change of pace I needed, you know?" She sat up, still straddling him and impaled on his cock, a thought occurring to her. "Hey, Big Red," she called out. "I just let him bust in me twice, do you have any fixes dated from yesterday?" A tiny white pill flew out of the other room. She caught it deftly in her hand and popped it in her mouth. "I'm getting good at this 'time-is-fluid' shit," she giggled to herself. "Maybe I'll teach quantum physics." "You don't need a glass of water or anything?" Kevin asked, looking up at her. "Trust me, Kevin, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's swallowing." Ginny replied, smiling down at him somewhat haughtily before carefully pulling herself off his cock, causing them both to shudder and moan quietly. She knelt over his waist and sucked on his cock, cleaning their mingled cum off him and then helping him to his feet. She slipped her thong back on while Kevin retrieved his boxers. They were just straightening themselves out when Santa appeared from the other room. "Did you enjoy your birthday present, Kevin?" he asked cheerfully. "Yessir," the newly-minted young man said. "Best birthday present anyone ever received." "Glad to hear it," Santa said, nodding. "And I know it doesn't compare to what Virginia just gave you, but I think you'll be pleased with your new rig I just set up. Five terrabytes of hard drive space, thirty-two gigs of DDR4 RAM, an overclocked quad-core CPU that'll put the i7 to shame, eight fans, a nickle and copper piping coolant system and L E D to make sure everyone knows you're in the house. Oh, and I've upgraded your server to be multi-line, WAN and load-balancing. You and your guild will never lag again as long as you host." Kevin's eyes went wide. "I've got fat pipes?" Santa nodded while Ginny shook her head, understanding none of this geek talk. It only figured that Santa was a giant nerd. Kevin looked like he might faint. "Well, I've just done what you deserved," Santa mentioned. "It's Virginia who should get the credit for your night being so spectacular." "Yeah," Kevin said, blushing and smiling at her. "Thanks." "My pleasure, trust me," she said easily. "Somebody have a pen I can use?" Santa handed her one and she looked at Kevin. "Your number, dude." Kevin managed to stutter out his number, which she wrote down on her wrist before nodding in satisfaction and giving the pen back to Santa. "Alright, if I ever happen to be in Ohio for some godforsaken reason, I can look you up and give you a booty call. Sound good?" Kevin nodded dumbly. "Just remember this," she said, poking him in the chest, her voice serious. "You've got a lot to learn still. You've got a nice cock between your legs, don't treat it like a Louisville Slugger and just beat the hell out of her with it, you're better than that." He nodded. "And if a girl wants you to fuck her, she'll give you signals, so watch." Ginny added, poking his chest with her nail. "Don't assume you can just force yourself on anyone or next year it's dead spiders in your stocking, you got it?" Kevin nodded again. "Excellent," she said sweetly. "Now go to sleep, champ. Merry Christmas and happy birthday. C'mon, Santa, we have a holiday to save!" "Yes, my lady!" Santa laughed, following her out of the basement. They were back on the roof when Santa smirked at her as they climbed into the sleigh. "Dead spiders in the stocking?" She shrugged. "Isn't that what you'd give a guy if he forced himself on a girl?" "Well, no," he replied as he snapped the reins and they took off into the cold night air. "That's more of a legal issue. If he was considering it, I wouldn't have mentioned dead spiders, I'd' have been more inclined to point out that he'd spend the next few years in a cell as some fat, greasy tattooed bastard's buttery cornhole." The sleigh lurched to one side as Ginny burst out laughing. A Pretty Man. Santa stared awkwardly, making a wry face while Ginny stood off to the side, smirking. Standing in front of Santa was a very pretty young man in pale pink pajamas, his hands behind his back, one knee turned in, twisting his toe into the rug and blushing expectantly. Ginny wiped a tear away from her eye, she was trying so hard not to laugh. "Yeah, that ain't happening." Santa said finally. "But I've been so good;" the young man cooed, smiling coyly and winking. "C'mon, Santa," Ginny urged, clearly enjoying his discomfiture. "He's been so good, and you always reward your good children, don't you?" "Nice try, lady," Santa said, pressing behind his ear, apparently activating a communicator. "Get Agent 641 to me, I need a pinch hitter, stat." Santa threw a small disk on the floor while Ginny and the young boy in pink watched curiously. The device oscillated and expanded, becoming a larger disk. Seconds later it began to glow and hum. A column of rainbow light radiated up from it and a kneeling shape appeared. Seconds later, the rainbow light faded away and a lithe, comely figure stood. He had the same slender, beautiful features as the warrior-elves who had fought earlier that night, his eyes a piercing violet color, his impossibly long raven hair held in gold rings. His pale body was naked except for a tiny thong. "Holy shit snacks;" Ginny breathed as she gazed stupidly at the new arrival, feeling her thong get wet. "Ylmarin, young Trevor here has been an extra-good boy, perhaps you'd care to reward him?" Santa suggested as the inhumanly graceful being stepped off the platform. The tall being looked down at the young man named Trevor, assessing him and then nodded. "Yes, sire, I can absolutely do this." Trevor blushed furiously and giggled, covering his face. Ylmarin reached over and took the boy's hand before leading him back to the bedroom. Santa nodded and began rummaging around in his toy sack, putting items under the tree. "Okay, we got that out of the way," he said, squatting and putting items under the decidedly pink-lit tree. "Virginia, if you could hand me the, Virginia? Ginny?" He frowned and turned to look for his helper, finally sighting her. She was standing in the doorway to the bedroom and looking in. One of her hands squeezing her tits while the other had snaked down inside her panties. "Alright, go on, you little voyeur." Santa chuckled, shaking his head. "Yum yum!" she squeaked and skipped into the room, from which moans were now emanating. Seeking to be naughty. "You weren't worried about being on the Naughty List if you waited up for me?" Santa asked the dark-haired girl as she sat on her floor, watching him intently. She pushed her glasses up her nose and shook her head, pretty curly locks spilling over her shoulders as she did so. "Not worried, hmm?" he mused, observing her. "So you think you're already on the Naughty List?" The girl nodded. Ginny blinked and pursed her lips. "Why isn't she talking? Is she mute or doesn't she speak English?" Santa shook his head. "No, Ellie's just shy. She doesn't speak much at first, but once she gets going;" He knelt down in front of the girl and smiled. "Well, here I am. What is it you wanted to ask me, Ellie?" The tan girl turned her head and looked down at the floor sheepishly for several seconds before working up the nerve to speak. "I; I want my daddy, Santa." Ginny blinked. "She what, wants him back from deployment for Christmas, she wants her father to move back home;" "No, Virginia," Santa said cheerfully. "She doesn't want her father, she wants her daddy." "Oh," Ginny said, suddenly understanding. "So, now what?" "That's all she wanted for Christmas, so we give her, her daddy." Santa said simply. The girl's eyes lit up in delight and she sat up straight, looking very excited. Santa pointed behind Ellie and she turned to look behind herself; Her daddy stood in the doorway, his green-hazel eyes mirroring her excitement and a big grin on her face. His long, sandy-blond hair fell down to his shoulder blades. "Daddy!" Ginny squealed as she scrambled to her feet and threw herself against her daddy, kissing him feverishly. He held her tight, returning the kiss while she began pulling his clothes off him. "I missed you so much!" "Missed you too, baby;" he murmured through the kiss as he pulled her top off, exposing her lush tits. "I never had a daddy." Ginny sighed as she watched the couple get increasingly naked and feeling the now-familiar tingle building. "I should take care of that at some point." "I've got some other deliveries in the immediate area," Santa mentioned. "How about I go take care of them while you have a little fun with these two?" "Well, I'm not attracted to girls." Ginny said in a non-committal tone. "You just didn't know you were until tonight." Santa replied, smiling. "Just trust me on this, Virginia." "Well, like you said earlier, I've had you inside all my orifices, so what's the harm in trusting you now, right?" she admitted, shrugging. Would being bisexual be such a bad thing? It certainly widened her options for dating. Santa nodded and walked out of the room. Ginny turned to look at the couple she was left with, who were already splayed out on the rug, naked and pleasuring one another. Ellie was lying on top of her daddy, facing down his body and sucking on his cock hungrily while he was pulling her slippery cunt lips apart and sliding his tongue up and down her twat, making her shiver and moan. "Fuck it," Ginny said finally, stripping out of her skimpy outfit and walking up to the two of them. She laid down beside Ellie's daddy and smiled at her, both their heads over hips. "Feel like tag-teaming, babe?" Ellie looked up for a moment and nodded readily. Ginny smiled and leaned in, flicking her tongue against the tip of his cock. The curly-haired girl giggled and joined Ginny in teasing the throbbing cock, taking turns sliding their tongue up and down the shaft while the other swirled her tongue around the head and took it into her mouth, starting to bob up and down. Ginny felt herself getting really wet and pressed her lips to Ellie's around the head of her daddy's cock, kissing her. They both moaned as their tongues tangled around the glistening head. Ginny's hand slipped into the girl's hair, wrapping in it to hold her in place. Ellie smelled like strawberries and Ginny felt herself getting wetter as she took in the scent. "Daddy," whimpered the girl. "Fuck me;" Ginny knelt up while the other girl straddled her daddy's hips, facing down his body. Her sticky cunt was positioned over his throbbing cock and Ginny took hold of it and guided it home. Ellie sighed almost in relief as she sank down, his cock filling her. Smiling wickedly, Ginny made Ellie lie back along her daddy's body and the girl gasped as her put his hands on her tits and held her. As Ellie and her daddy began to squirm and writhe, her glistening cunt swallowing his cock greedily, Ginny bent down and tongued at the shaft as it slid back and forth through her lips. She pressed her thumb gently on Ellie's clit, causing her to shudder and moan loudly. Then her tongue traced a slow route around the engorged cunt lips, teasing her new girl lover. Ellie whimpered and panted, begging her daddy to fuck her harder. Ginny sucked Ellie's clit into her mouth and was rewarded with a strangled cry from above. She fondled the sac in front of her gently and pressed on the throbbing vein. Her cunt was getting wetter with each passing moment and she needed to know if Ellie would share; Without another word, she crawled over Ellie and settled down on top of her, her tits squashing into the succulent set below. She moved around until she felt her cunt pressed to Ellie's and the magical, rhythmic motion of the cock still pumping in and out of her. She shuddered as their lips and clits met and they wrapped their arms around one another, kissing shamelessly. Tongues snaked and writhed as they moaned into one another's mouths. "Daddy," panted the younger girl. "Fuck Santa's elf-girl; fuck her please;" Ginny felt her own ferocious desire rising as the cock slurped out of Ellie and pressed against her. She groaned gutturally as she felt the head penetrate and then she pressed down eagerly, taking it deep inside her. Still sandwiched between them, Ellie took one of Ginny's tits and sucked the nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. Ginny arched her back and hissed through clenched teeth, squeezing hard on the invading cock. She ground down on Ellie's daddy, gyrating her hips and her fingers digging into the other girl's skin. Ellie sucked and bit her nipples, the delicious sting heightening her ecstasy. She body was streaming with sweat while he fucked her, Ellie's soft flesh undulating against hers. She could hear him panting and feel him stiffening and knew what happened next. With great haste and even greater reluctance, she pulled herself off the cock and knelt, pulling Ellie up into a kneeling position. She helped her daddy stand quickly while Ellie took his cock and pumped it eagerly with her hand. Once he was standing, they both attacked his cock with their mouths and hands, pleasuring him beyond endurance. He put his hand on the back of their heads and groaned loudly, his hips shuddering as he came. Both girls pressed their faces in, letting him spurt on their mouths and cheeks, hands still working the shaft quickly. The warm, sticky cum brought with it a warm flush of memories, how it always felt on her skin, the tingling, scintillating pleasure she always felt in the ardor of others. Ellie's soft tits pressed to hers, their cheeks meeting as they accepted the pearly offering, on their chins and now glazing their tits; she loved it all. She was never happier than when she was in the throes of passion with others. Was this what she was truly meant to do? Was this a Christmas epiphany? Ellie and Ginny began kissing hungrily, licking the cum off one another's faces with a fervor, then off each other's neck and tits. They returned their attention to the still twitching cock, kissing and sucking it dry. Once Ellie's daddy was spent, she laid him down and Ginny helped her snuggle into his warm, loving embrace. The girl smiled at her and giggled before blowing a kiss. Ginny gathered up her outfit and exited the apartment quietly. Not surprisingly at this point, the sleigh was just pulling back onto the roof as she arrived. Santa smiled at her. "So did you know I was bi all these years?" she asked as she clambered into the seat and beside him and snuggled into his side as they took off. He nodded. "Not my place to rob you of your journey of self-discovery, though." "Maybe," she sighed. "But think about all the fun I've missed out on, not playing with girls too. Doubling the size of my dating pool might have made a difference." "You've always been who you're meant to be, Virginia," he said cheerfully. "And your little epiphany tonight is going to have big implications in the year to come. Trust me." Her eyes widened. "For real?" "Would I lie?" Santa laughed. Ginny in the sleigh. Ginny was lying back in the plush red seat of the sleigh, her chest heaving as she stared at the pre-dawn sky. Her little elf-outfit was almost in shreds and she was missing one of her shoes. Even Santa looked a little worn. "So that's what sex with an entire sorority house feels like;" she said distantly. "Kinda gives me a new respect for those college quarterbacks. Those girls are animals." Santa nodded. "I have to admit, that wore me out a little too, which is saying something. And before you ask, yes, they have all been good this past year and they sent me one letter asking for Santa to fuck them as a sorority, so that really was their Christmas present." Ginny nodded. "That and the four metric tons of vibrators, dildos, eggs, anal beads, ben-wa balls and lingerie I saw you drop off; and about thirty Sybians." "They're a really good sorority house." Santa admitted. Ginny just stared at the sky. "Hard to believe that you're brought up a certain way, being told that good kids act a certain way, only to find out that being a total mega-slut is not grounds for being added to the Naughty List but sneaking cookies when mom told you not to is." "I didn't make the rules," Santa said, shrugging, but then he paused. "Oh, wait; ya know, I probably did, a long, long time ago." Ginny giggled tiredly. "This has been the longest and most oversexed night of my life, and that's saying something for me. Where are we headed, Big Man?" "Well, it's almost dawn." Santa said, looking east. "I'm going to have to drop you off before long now that my rounds are done." "Yeah," Ginny said somewhat reluctantly. "Since I don't have a house, I guess you should drop me off at my parents' place. I can't exactly tell 'em that my house was destroyed in a massive battle between Santa's elves and Krampus, but maybe they'll believe a gas main exploded." "You can't lie, Virginia, we've been over this." Santa said firmly. "Well I can't really tell them the truth either, can I?" Ginny pointed out, hoping she didn't sound too quarrelsome. "I know;" he said quietly, still guiding the sleigh. The soared through the dark sky for some time, saying nothing. Eventually, Ginny began to make out shapes in the night, sleek silhouettes that looked almost like slender, jet-powered Skidoos, being ridden by beings in strange armor with glowing runes and wild mans of hair. "Just my guardians," Santa said in an assuring tone. "Making sure there are no last-minute attempts to thwart us." The earth far below them took on a white cast and Ginny knew that they were above a region covered in snow. She couldn't feel it, but she could sense the cold air around them as the sleigh angled down, heading to the ground. The landing was predictably smooth and they finally came to a stop, flanked by the jet bikes and their unsettling warriors. Santa jumped out and helped Ginny down, smiling at her and wrapping her in a warm, furry red blanket from head to toe. When he pulled it off her, she was no dressed in a stylish red velvet dress, trimmed in white and ending on her upper thighs to show lots of leg. Her calf-high boots were red and edged with white, with adorable little poms dangling from the side. She even had a white poof to keep her hands warm and the Santa hat she now wore kept her ears toasty. "You look beautiful," he said as he waved in front of himself to conjure an ice mirror that reflected her image perfectly. "And without you, Virginia, there wouldn't have been a Christmas this year. You need to understand that." Ginny blushed prettily and walked alongside him, petting the reindeers as she walked by. She even gave Donner a kiss on the nose and the beast snorted and blushed, pawing the ground. They walked casually through the snow, holding hands until they were approached by several people. Ginny's eyes went wide, these were all women, clad in black armor with baroque chest plates reminiscent of bustiers. They all wore their hair bobbed, universally black or platinum in color and they carried savage-looking rifles or flamethrowers. They all knelt reverently as Santa approached. "Do I want to know?" Ginny breathed. "My personal guard," Santa said, nodding to the women as he passed through them. "Orphan girls I've saved from a cruel world. They're fanatically devoted to me, even beyond my elves." Her mouth was somewhat dry when she asked the next question. "Do you; you know;" "Yes, Virginia," he said, saving her the difficulty of asking. "They're also my lovers. When they're not fighting for me or standing guard, they live in the bliss I seem uniquely capable of giving women." "That doesn't sound like such a bad life," Ginny said, a hopeful tone in her voice. "I mean, I'm no orphan, but I'd say we pretty compatible sexually. Aren't we?" He turned and took her gently by the arms, smiling warmly down into her eyes in that way that made her knees go weak. Other people may have seen the fat old jolly man, but she could see only the copper-haired and bearded giant with eyes deeper than a galaxy and a boyish smile that she knew she'd always love. "You're right, Virginia, you're not an orphan," he said quietly. "These girls had no future. I have no right to rob you of yours. And believe me, you don't want to miss it." He took her hand and kept walking, snow gently falling as they walked through the stands of tall trees. When they emerged on the far side, he grinned and gestured grandly in front of them. Ginny's eyes went wide. Across the clearing was her lovely home, looking as good as new. Squads of warrior-elves stood guard menacingly around the perimeter while other, smaller beings she more associated with the Christmas story elves scampered around, making final adjustments to the domicile. "Like the whole thing never happened," Santa declared. "And there are even some improvements, I might add." "Ya don't say," Ginny said somewhat absently, still staring in disbelief. All sign of the titan battle fought on her property less than twelve hours ago were gone. "Uh; improvements?" Santa nodded. "We added solar panels and some subtle wind turbines, so you can officially live off the grid. Water's hooked up to a local artesian well. Improved your internet connection, you get about two hundred megabits per second, not to mention the fact that we connected you to our servers, so the Tor Network and the Deep Web have nothing on you for security and anonymity." "Wow;" was all she seemed to be able to say. "Let's see, we reinforced the frame and the roof, you could probably get hit by a meteor and barely notice," Santa continued. "Windows are made of transparent aluminum, they're durable, to say the least." "No bugs crashing through my bay windows?" she asked. "Actually got a nifty physics trick for you

Miracle On Route 34: Part 2 Virginia and Santa face extreme danger together. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Someone attacked Santa with a wicked-looking spiked hand-axe, something out of a sci-fi movie. He batted the weapon aside and clapped his open hands across the man's ears, busting his brain. Before he dropped, Santa grabbed the corpse and swung it around in a wide arc, smashing it into the foes surrounding him and knocking them back. "Shit!" Ginny squealed as one of the targets landed near her. "It's like the fucking Matrix in here!" As he threw the corpse away, he paused very briefly and glanced at her. "Since you happen to be right there, how about a little mood music?" "What?" "I'm just saying some music would be nice if we're going to be doing this," he called. "You're next to the entertainment system, how about putting something on?" "You’re shitting me, right?" she almost complained, wincing as she heard something delicate-sounding and expensive smash behind her amidst the wild brawl. She stared at the multimedia system, flapping her arms in frustration as she tried to focus through the noise. This couldn't be happening. She clutched the sleeves of her plush robe for a moment, trying to concentrate on its soft, fuzzy texture and center herself. She'd almost forgotten the large nerf gun in her hands but ignored it now, fixing her gaze on the mp3 playlist. She pressed a button. "Silent night; Holy night;" Bing crooned through the room. "Not really what I had in mind!" Santa mentioned loudly as he rammed his knee into a man's chin. "Try again!" Ginny bit her lip and pressed the button again, this time rewarded with Gary Glitter singing 'Another Rock And Roll Christmas'. "Still not quite there," he said as he snapmared another foe. "Better, but not quite!" "Well I don't know!" she shouted in exasperation. "What kind of music do you put on while Santa kills things in your living room?" Santa turned sideways and thrust his foot out, kicking an intruder in the chest and sending him sprawling backwards, rolling head over heels until he thumped into the entertainment system, jolting it and skipping the player. "I am a bitch. How do you want me? From behind, or on my knees? I am a slut, please hold me down, I'll be your noise, This shit will fuck you up!" "Perfect!" he declared as he fought, swarmed once again by foes. "Seriously?" Ginny yelled. "Combichrist is Santa's fucking fighting groove?" "I'm trying to figure out why you have it on your playlist," Santa replied. "I don't remember you liking aggrotech!" "Why the hell do you of all people even know what it is?" she shot back, wincing as she watched another body sail into the opposite wall with a sickening crunch before dropping to the floor and leaving a huge, crumbling dent in the stone. 'This Shit Will Fuck You Up!' "I prefer the term 'Hellektro' myself," he added. "And I know all songs, silly. I remember when the Dayglo Abortions wrote that 'Hey Santa!' song back in the '80's, they didn't get presents for” "I didn't ask, why are you answering?" she hissed. "Kill! Kill!" All the while, the pounding rhythms of the music filled the room. "I am a bitch. How do you want me? From behind, or on my knees? I am a slut, please hold me down, I'll be your noise, This shit will fuck you up!" "Well, at least we know why it's on your playlist, anyway!" he mentioned as he broke someone's back over his knee. "Very funny, red man!" Ginny hissed, scowling. She ducked wildly as another assailant flew overhead and landed in the Jacuzzi, his neck slamming against the hard edge with a snap noise and then tilting at a strange angle, his eyes wide and unseeing. "Fucking hell," she muttered. "These guys eat too much red meat!" Santa smashed two heads together before punting a third man in the chest, sending him staggering back until he fell against the entertainment unit, right next to Ginny, his eyes spiraling in his head. She scowled down at him for a moment before smashing the pitcher of nog on his cranium and sending him to the floor. Every single intruder stopped and turned to look at her suddenly, their eyes narrowing and turning very yellow. "Eep;" Ginny said quietly, going pale. They all howled and lunged toward her, even as Santa fought to reach her first. She shrieked in fright. "Darn it, Ginny!" he shouted in what almost sounded like irritation. "I told you not to do anything!" "You said not to use the stupid nerf gun!" she shot back as she dodged wildly and began to run around, evading her pursuers. "I meant don't do anything to get yourself noticed!" he growled as he bulldogged one man's head into the floor. He sprang to his feet and grabbed another man by the back of the head, ramming his face into the stone wall, creating a small crater from which the body slumped only slowly and wetly. "How the hell did they not notice the mostly naked girl in the room?" she yelled, sprinting around the circumference of the room, being chased by yellow-eyed foes. "They're mostly quantum, they don't always perceive real-state things or beings until they're interacted with!" he answered. "They weren't looking for you until you announced yourself!" "Oh, you and your weird physics shit!" she groused, her robe coming more and more undone as she ran. One of her tits was exposed, bouncing annoyingly and the nipple hardening as a cold wind from the endless holes in her walls and windows blew into the room. "Now what?" "Well, since they know you're here, you might as well use the gun," he answered as he tackled a small knot of them who were looking to cut off her avenue of escape. "At least then you can defend yourself if you're careful!" "The fuck am I supposed to do?" she shouted angrily as she clutched the ridiculous, useless gun. "Nerf them to death? Hope I shoot one foam dart down a throat and hope the bastard chokes and dies?" "Didn't you just let me inside all of your orifices?" he pointed out as he spun low, sweeping one foe's feet from under him and then taking him by the ankles to slam him off the floor. "Trust me, Virginia!" "Dammit!" she spat, steeling her nerve, hoping her resolve was harder than her nipple currently was. Taking a deep breath, she stopped running and spun, pointing the gun and pulling the plastic trigger; She yelped in astonishment as coruscating arcs of lightning crackled and lashed out from the muzzle, enveloping several foes, who wailed in glowing agony before disappearing from view. "Jesus H Fucking Tesla!" she exclaimed in amazement as she gaped down at her toy. "Virginia, language!" Santa warned. She rolled her eyes and pointed at another man rushing her, pulling the trigger and watching him explode in a shower of scintillating particles. "This shit will fuck you up!" blared the speakers. The wall splintered next to Ginny and several terrifying creatures barged in, causing her to shriek in fright, they were easily Santa's size, vaguely humanoid but covered in a greyish, segmented carapace, with insectoid heads, evil-looking mandibles and huge claws at the end of four arms. They hissed as the lunged for her. "Fuck fuck fuck!" cried out as she began running. "Fucking hate motherfucking bugs!" She fired wildly behind herself without looking, managing to strike one of the new creatures but only slowing it down. Ginny raced for the stairs, stampeding up them only to find more of the yellow-eyed humanoids waiting for her. "Santa!" she cried out in terror. "Help!" He glanced her way and grimaced at her predicament. "Aw, hell;" With a strength born of the desperation to protect one of his precious children, he surged forward, shoulder-blocking his way through a knot of assailants, springing through the air with astonishing agility, alternately using the wall and railing of the stairs to get to the upper floor, twisting and executing a flying kick that downed a foe about to attack Ginny. "Good thing I wore my enhanced parkour boots tonight, eh?" he muttered as he glared at the foes crowding to get up the stairs or down the hallway at them. "I don't even know what that means." Ginny snapped, backing up warily as the horde coming for them grew in numbers. "If that's some sort of geek speak, then we, are you getting bigger?" "I guess I am," he replied, grimly, glaring at their foes. "I don't expect what I'm saying to make sense, but the other iterations of me, my other selves, they're all coming here, merging with me to help meet the threat." "You're; consolidating?" she asked in disbelief. "That's one way to look at it," he said, his blue eyes flashing. "It's gonna make finishing the Christmas run tight if I get held up here much longer." "Oh, terribly sorry if I'm inconveniencing you, your highness." Ginny said, trying to not sound too snide. He put his body between her and her foes, backing her up against the wall. "They can't come through the wall you're up against, it's the South wall," he said quietly but with a sense of urgency. "You're safe from that angle. You can fire your gun past me or over the rail at the guys down below. Since they're trying to reach you that means they've solidified enough that they can't do crazy things like jump seven meters up to reach you, they'll have to use the stairs." "I thought they were after you." Ginny said hotly. "They were, until you announced yourself with a jug of nog," he pointed out. "Now they want to destroy you to hurt me." "Oh. Sorry." Ginny mumbled somewhat sheepishly. "You can make it up to me later!" he said as he surged forward suddenly, bulling his way through the approaching crowd, clotheslining several at once. Shouts went up and the fight was on again. Santa punched, kicked, elbowed, kneed and wrenched his way through the enemy horde. Ginny swore he was indeed bigger than he had been earlier. His already hard body physique was almost bulging with muscles now, like a California beach bodybuilder. Black blood glistened on his flawless skin as he maimed the attackers. Droplets that hit the carpet sizzled and ate through it, burning the hardwood floor beneath. "No!" Ginny wailed in despair. "Not the hardwood! I loved that feature!" She glared and gritted her teeth as she leaned over the railing and pointed the nerf gun down at the endless crowd on the main floor, pulling the trigger. The crackling arcs of energy enveloped several foes, who wailed and vanished. Same as before, the giant insectoids rarely disappeared but seemed slowed or staggered by the attack. Santa fought his way forward, forcing the attackers back from Ginny. Try as they might, no one got by him, even if it meant that they could strike at him instead. He took their assaults resolutely, using his body as a shield to protect her. Before long, the floor of the hallway was littered with bodies, some barely stirring, others not moving at all. Still, the foes swarmed up the stairs. One of the bug-things swiped at him with its vicious claws and he ducked under the blow before kicking his boot into one of the reverse-jointed legs, snapping it. The bug screeched and tumbled and he leapt onto its back, grabbing hold of one of the large, wet-grey chitinous plates that armored its back and pulled, it tore away with a mushy crack and the beast's keened agony as it shuddered and thrashed. Without pausing, Santa whirled around and slammed the exoskeletal plate across several men's heads, dropping them. Ginny kept firing the nerf tesla gun, wondering what sort of sociopath would invent a deadly weapon that looked like a famous kid's toy. She pushed it from her mind, realizing that she wanted to live and didn't care at the moment about the social mores of the issue. Santa was using the huge chitin plate almost like a shield, driving his foes back with it to the stairs. It finally cracked in half and he punched through the mess, unwilling to give the enemy time to regroup. He spun one man around with a fist across the jaw before grabbing his arms from behind and ramming his knee into the man's back, lifting him off the floor and letting him slam his spine onto the stairs. Without waiting, Santa launched himself through the air, knee raised and smashed it into the face of a man on the stair's corner landing. The foe's head went back through the wall with a loud crunch and he hung there limply, no longer part of the battle. "Ack!" Ginny squawked as the nerf gun sputtered and let out several impotent flashes and then died. "Not now! No no no!" One foe had broken through the cordon and now raced toward her. She yelled loudly and smashed the butt of her nerf gun into his face, staggering him for a moment. She glared at him angrily, waiting for him to fall, but her didn't, so she kicked him in the crotch with her instep. He groaned and sunk to his knees, holding himself. Ginny was practically jumping up and down on top of him by the time he stopped moving. "Stay; the; fuck; down!" she shouted angrily as she turned his ribcage into powder. She failed to notice the one last foe who rushed up behind her. But then Santa was at her side and he delivered a devastating haymaker to the man's thorax. Stunned, the intruder staggered back against the railing. With a growl, Santa grabbed him by the face and ruthlessly bent his back over the railing before leaping over and slamming his elbow across the man's neck as he went down to the main floor. The lifeless form crumpled next to him as he looked around, glaring. No foes remained standing. Aside from the music, all was quiet. "It is safe?" Ginny called from the gallery. "Are the scary guys and bug-thingies all gone?" "No," Santa said warily. "And the next wave is even bigger." "Great!" Ginny complained, tossing the useless nerf gun over the side. "And according to you, there's no one that can help us!" "I didn't say that," he countered, beckoning for her to come down the stairs and be near him for protection. "I just said there was no Easter Bunny." "No Superman either, apparently," she grumbled as she approached him, letting him put a huge arm around her possessively. He was, indeed, bigger than ever. She was practically child-sized next to him now. "So who the hell is there to help us?" "If help's arriving it had better get here soon," he said, taking her to the remains of her big glass bay windows and back door. The wind was howling as snow drove into the living room. What was left of it, anyway. Which was nothing. "It's now or never. Can you see them?" She peered into the darkness outside and a chill ran down her spine, hundreds of red and yellow glowing eyes could be seen in the darkness. And they seemed to be getting closer. "Do; do they see me?" she asked, swallowing nervously. "I'm sure they do," he said, grimacing. "Not going to take a chance and assume they don't. I'll do everything I can to protect you, of course." "Is; is that going to be enough?" She could hear the angry hisses and an evil chanting outside clearly now, getting closer with each moment. It pained Santa that he couldn't lie to her. "I don't know, Virginia." She sighed and smiled weakly. "Well, at least I know there's a Santa Claus now. And he gave me the night of my life before it all ended." He returned the smile, trying to feign a cheerfulness he didn't feel. "I don't;" Ginny faltered, trying to find the words. "I don't suppose that you'd; well; that you'd be willing to kiss me one last time? You know, before the end?" He turned to look down at her, his hands holding her arms with an unreal gentleness and a warmth in his eyes that comforted her even now. "Nothing would make me happier, Virginia." She smiled and closed her eyes. "Merry Christmas, Santa." "Merry Christmas, Virginia;" he said softly as he leaned down to kiss her. Then the night was filled with high-pitched shrieks, a noise that made her eyes snap open. She'd heard noises like that before, once a long time ago in grade school. It sounds like the hissing passage of meteors above, and getting closer. Or what she imagined artillery sounded like when it was incoming, like in all those war movies. Santa's head turned and an almost evil grin crept over his face as he listened. "That's more like it!" he declared, standing tall and pointing at the blackness of the night. "Watch the sky, Virginia;" She looked up and noticed glittering points of light, dozens of them, seeming to get closer. The hissing shriek was indeed their approach and they seemed to be aimed right at them. She felt Santa's hand squeeze on her shoulder, almost in excitement. His blue eyes were blazing ferociously. Finally, what looked like dozens of giant icicles, each larger and longer than a semi, lanced out of the night sky and slammed into the earth around her house, shaking it as they buried their tips in the frozen ground and came to a stop. Several impaled the intruders as they came in, while others kicked up a covering spray of snow as the enemy stopped and looked around in confusion. Then doors or portals opened on the sides of the titan icicles and tall, lithe beings began leaping out of them, wearing weird, form-fitting armor and carrying space-age guns and swords or axes. Their armor and long hair was a riot of colors that was reflected by the snow and ice. Wild, ululating war cries pierced the air. And a savage, bloody battle began on her property. "Who the hell are they?" Ginny almost yelled in astonishment as she watched. They moved with inhuman grace and speed, the ones not wearing helmets revealing long, beautiful facial features that were often frightening because of the wrath they displayed. The helmets were all tall and peaked, showing fearsome designs and glowing eyes. Weird runes pulsed and throbbed with light all over their armor. Guns hissed and shrieked while swords hummed as they slew. "My elves," Santa said, clearly pleased and also eager to fight but not willing to leave her side yet. "They got my call and converged on my position." "Those are elves?" she exclaimed in amazement. "Aren't they cutesy little toy-shop people?" "Cute myth, but no, not these ones," he replied, watching as several elves wearing bone-white armor with feminine features raced past, throwing themselves into a knot of the hulking bugs. They screamed and the masks of their wild-maned helmets gave off vibrations that shook Ginny's teeth in her head as it melted their foes' faces off. "No, a lot of my elves are warriors, meant to help me fight Krampus. They keep Christmas safe with me." "What the hell are they wearing?" she asked in disbelief. How could this weird night get any weirder? Santa sighed. "Truth? They've been spending way too much time playing Warhammer 40k and they; appropriated armor, weapons and tactics from the Eldar faction. They're space elves." "Wow. Gay;" she muttered, shaking her head. "Well, they're certainly earning their keep tonight." He nodded. "Been a long time since Krampus moved against us this hard. Apparently he got bored and was feeling uppity. That or he just forgot what a good thrashing felt like." Ginny watched as three elves, clad in scary black armor and wearing helmets that looked like peaked skulls, marched relentlessly forward, firing little rockets from elaborate launchers they carried in their hands and on suspensor harnesses. The rockets punctured the bugs' chitin shells and exploded inside them, sending shards of exoskeleton and stinking goo in every direction. Ginny squeaked and hid behind Santa as some of the nasty effluence landed right where she'd been standing only a moment before. Beams of super-heated plasma and tiny, shuriken-like projectiles hissed and whizzed by them, the remains of her lovely house now the center of a battleground while the winter storm raged on. Warriors in green armor, carrying weapons that looked like a horrifying hybrid of sword and chainsaw, tore into a knot of foes, slicing them to bloody ribbons. As savage as the battle had been earlier, when it had just been her and Santa, she suddenly appreciated its relative civility. "They need my help," Santa said finally, cracking his knuckles, his expression grim. "We have to finish this off or Christmas won't come on time." "I thought you said there was plenty of time." Ginny protested, frowning up at him. "There was," he admitted. "But in order to defeat Krampus' minions, I summoned every single quantum iteration of myself back to here to help me fight. No one is delivering presents anywhere at the moment. I can't change real-time if I'm here in my entirety." He turned and looked at her. "Hopefully we're keeping them busy enough that they don't worry about you. Stay against the wall and work the music, will you?" "Manning the music station," she said, nodding, focusing on giving herself a task. "Music for Santa and his homicidal elves to kill by. Got it;" She watched as Santa leapt through the shattered remains of her bay doors into the howling storm and crashed into a knot of foes, savaging them. She watched in disbelief for some time, trying to figure out how Santa could kill anyone. I mean, even serial murderers got presents in prison, didn't they? Maybe they didn't, she had no way of knowing and chalked up thinking about this to what could only be described as the weirdest night of her life. She squealed and dodged out of the way as a body came flying through the doors and landed next to her. She scrambled over to the entertainment center and stood in front of it, trying to figure out what the hell she should play. "Okay;" she breathed, trying to focus. "Mass slaughter music; mass slaughter music;" What constituted mass slaughter music? Death metal? Panic At The Disco? Teletubbies music? She had no playlists, so she began cycling through the radio, hoping to find anything that might suffice. Oldies; Christmas music; hip-hop; trance; disco; "Son of a fuck," she muttered. "This is harder than it looks." She finally came across a station playing 'Jailhouse Rock' and decided that was good enough, she was sick of looking. She winced, trying to ignore another splintering crash as a body came through her wall. She hugged herself but then felt her robe. She frowned as she looked down at it, realizing it had been thoroughly shredded in the fight earlier. Those shuriken-thingies had been cutting it real close. Ginny grumbled as she pulled it off and threw it away, standing there completely naked, it hadn't been keeping her warm in its current condition and she was thoroughly beyond giving a shit at this point about who saw her naked. They were all too damn busy tearing one another apart anyway. And that sort of pissed her off. She was buck-naked and no one seemed to care. She'd shaved her cunt for this? "And I thought my night sucked before," she sighed to no one in particular. "Not getting my cunt pounded had been my biggest complaint before this hack!" She never saw the menacing shadow that had slipped up behind her. Santa picked one of his foes up overhead and hurled him into a cluster of foes, bowling them all over. He then punched another man as he tried to run by, knocking him off his feet and into his back. A quick stamp on his solar plexus made sure he stopped moving. The huge man thrust his fist in the air and shouted loudly. "Clear!" he thundered, indicating no other enemies surrounded him. His elves responded in kind, many of them gathering in a tight ring about him, weapons facing out as they sought to protect him. Hundreds of bodies lay strewn across the landscape, some burning from plasma blasts, other shredded and blown apart by rockets or sliced into bloody jerky. The storm seemed to be abating, no longer a blizzard so much as a stiff wind and swirls of snow. "Sire, we detect no enemies in the immediate vicinity," one elf wearing blue armor with a tall, crested helmet announced, striding up and saluting by thumping his gauntleted fist over his heart. "This attack has been defeated." "Maybe," Santa said, looking around warily. "But that doesn't mean anything just yet. We have to secure the area, make sure Virginia is alright and then get back to” "Kringle!" "Damn," he muttered to himself. "I thought this was too easy." He made several complex gestures, sending his elves fanning out in a wide arc as he began trudging forward through the snow, heading toward where the voice had come from out of the night. The winds and squalls of snow continued to die down until there was an almost deafening silence, the moon shining brightly overhead and revealing the sheer carnage of the battle that had been waged, the snow and ice glittered with frozen blood. "Kringle!" snarled the inhuman voice angrily. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" Santa said loudly, scowling. "Don't get your panties in a bunch!" He stopped in a clearing on the other side of the house, glowering at who confronted him, the beast was not as tall as he was, nor as muscular, but horrifying in aspect. The backward-jointed, hairy legs ended in wicked hooves. The skin not covered in coarse black fur was almost as dark and criss-crossed with innumerable scars. The vascular chest was crowned with a strong neck and sitting atop it was a blasphemous head, a demonic goat's visage from which grew four evil, twisting horns. The red eyes blazed like wrathful coals and sharp teeth glistened wetly inside the hateful mouth. Krampus. And in one of his powerful, clawed hands, he held Virginia by the neck, who looked like a rag doll. "Hi, Santa;" she said weakly, looking very apologetic. Santa kept walking forward, clenching his fists. "By all means, Kringle, keep coming forward if you mean to slay the child." Krampus growled, starting to squeeze and causing Ginny to shudder in fear. Santa stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes narrowing. His elves had now cast a tight net around the scene, hemming in Krampus. One circle of warriors faced inward, pointing their weapons at the abomination while another behind them faced out, prepared for any further attacks. Santa didn't move. "Let the girl go, Krampus," he said levelly. "This doesn't concern her." "Oh, I beg to differ," said the beastman in an almost non-chalant tone. "It's always about the children, isn't it?" "Hey!" said Ginny angrily. "I am not a child, jerk! I'm twenty, Gurr!" "Oh, do stop talking, you're such an annoyance." Krampus said, giving her neck another warning squeeze. "Let the adults work this out." "There's nothing to work out, Krampus," Santa growled, his blue eyes flashing. "You'll let the girl go." "I think we both know that's not happening," intoned the vile intruder. "She is my victory over you, and you know it. Revenge is not only a dish best served cold but often. And not often enough for me." "About this cold revenge dish thing," Ginny said, squirming slightly. "Couldn't; couldn't I just find you a nice tin can to chew on instead?" "Shut up, girl!" Krampus said harshly while several elves could be heard to chuckle and even Santa smirked at her jest. "I hold your life in my hands, to dispose of as I please." His foul breath crackled in the cold night air. His touch was uncomfortably warm, almost hot and strangely kept her body from freezing in the winter night. His touch felt evil and her skin crawled in revulsion. His strength was terrifying. "It wasn't enough that I slaved in coal mines for you, giving you carbon lumps to deliver to naughty children," Krampus growled, glaring at Santa. "It wasn't enough that I found the worst of them and brought them to you in the night so you could lecture them." "Hey, nobody asked you or ordered you to do the coal thing, pal," Santa said angrily. "And the whole kidnapping kids thing was your idea. I decided to let you have some creative control and look what happened. When it didn't work out, you decided that beating naughty kids with reeds was the answer. You're damn right that wasn't good enough!" "Silence!" Krampus snarled loudly, stamping one of his clawed hooves and making the ground shake dangerously. "Your kind-hearted foolishness with these puny mortals changed nothing about their behavior! Your failure to recognize their inherent selfishness was why our efforts were doomed!" "These puny mortals?" Santa countered. "You used to be one of them, Pete, remember? You were a well-behaved boy once." "Shut up!" growled Krampus. "Well-behaved, but not good," Santa continued. "You followed the rules and wanted everyone to follow rules. You were a control freak. I brought you north to show you what kindness could do, but you hated the cheer and the happiness and you fled to the coal mines in Greenland, hiding in the dark where the light of Christmas couldn't touch you! And when making kids feel bad with coal didn't bring them into line, you started the whole whipping them with reeds thing. Good job there, Pete!" "I'm warning you, Kringle;" Krampus said dangerously. "Oh, he really gets your goat, doesn't he?" Ginny sneered, causing several elves to laugh loudly. Krampus now snarled furiously and lifted her into the air by her neck, causing her to cry out in pain. Santa watched warily, knowing better than to make a move. "We seem to have an impasse," Krampus said, an evil smile playing over his slavering mouth. "You cannot harm me, because you know I can slay the child, but I cannot as yet slay her because she is my bargaining chip. But my need to hurt you, old man, is so very strong." He lowered Ginny down until her feet were just touching the snow-covered ground. She frowned as she heard a wet slithering sound she could not identify. "And there are other ways to hurt you than slaying the poor dear, aren't there?" Ginny felt something slimy touch her leg and then start to crawl up it, wrapping around her smooth skin. She shuddered and squirmed in horror as she realized exactly what was happening. The snake-like appendage wound up her thigh and then behind her. She gasped as it slid between her ass cheeks and then underneath to her cunt. She felt the blunt head split her lips and then move upward again. "Don't do this, Krampus." Santa said, trying to figure out what to do without hurting Ginny. "And why not?" replied the qliphotic abomination. "Don't you have a present for me? Then I guess I'll have to give myself one." Krampus' organ continued to slither its way around her body, leaving a glistening trail on her skin. She stiffened and moaned as his appendage wrapped around her tits, squeezing them, the head pausing and teasing the nipples. "Hey, asshole, dinner and a movie first!" she spat angrily. Ginny was about to say something else when the large, grayish cockhead snaked up in front of her face and then plunged into her mouth, causing her to gag and go silent. Her eyes widened and she thrashed furiously, but to no avail. He was simply too strong. "Language, young lady." Krampus chided, still staring at Santa. "Hasn't Santa taught you anything?" "This isn't gonna end well for you, Pete." Santa said, his tone dire. "Christmas never does, Kringle," replied the demon, his cock sliding in and out of Ginny's mouth. "I'm just hoping to make the holiday every bit as awful and intolerable for you as it is for me. After all, misery loves company." He brought her body close to his head and his other hand reached over and stroked her cunt lips, which were glistening. He leered at his foe, knowing Santa was helpless to get closer. "Is she good down here?" Krampus said mockingly. "Nice and wet and tight for you? Was she the best one ever, in the endless list of good girls you have fucked?" Santa said nothing, just glaring at Krampus. His knuckles were white as he clenched his fists. "Sharing your toys is the spirit of Christmas, isn't it?" Krampus said evilly, finally pulling his cock out of her mouth. Ginny coughed and sputtered, tendrils of resinous spittle and worse trailing away from her lips. She glared at Krampus but was still immobilized. "Just get this over with and fuck me already, whip-cock," she spat. "You won't be my first egotistical disappointment, trust me." Krampus' eyes blazed red and his tongue sped around her naked form blindingly quickly while he released her from his clawed grip. The tongue wrapped and immobilized her arms, holding them out straight while still encircling her tits. It then snaked around her waist and legs, pinning those as well while his long cock, swaying about like a cobra, came to a stop in front of her swollen cunt lips. The head teased and tapped against the opening, causing her to moan and squirm. "As you wish, child;" The head forced itself through her lips, sliding deep inside her. Ginny cried out in a mixture of shock and indescribable pleasure. She felt the tip of his pointed tongue probe trailing around her nipples. The python-like length of his cock churned inside her cunt. The blinding light behind her eyes finally receded and she lifted her head, looking out into the night, feeling his tongue constricting around her neck. She could dimly see a huge being in red pants and black boots watching nearby, his powerful chest exposed. The startling blue eyes flashed in the darkness of the night. She could tell he wanted to rescue her but didn't dare come closer. She gasped and shuddered as Krampus' cock pushed still deeper inside her. She felt fuller than she had imagined possible, the slithering appendage stretching her wide. The sticky, squelching noises were hardly to be believed. "Ew, gross! Hentai noises!" she thought in revulsion. "Krampus;" Santa warned. His elves all pointed their weapons menacingly but he held up his hand, staying them. "The child is naughty," Krampus said, smiling through pointed teeth. "Very naughty. Such a sordid past." "Hey, back off, she was young and needed the money!" Santa snapped defensively. "That thing with the midget and the donkey was” "You're not helping here!" Ginny shouted, blushing furiously, even as Krampus violated her. "Wicked child," growled the vile demon, shoving his cock in and out of her, the peristaltic actions of its length causing her to writhe and squirm in his grip, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Shameless. Even though I violate her, she finds a way to be concerned about how you perceive her. I find it; titillating." "Oh, do I make you horny?" she sneered, turning her head to smirk at him. "Couldn't tell, looking at that head of yours." "Silence!" Krampus hissed, spittle flying from his jaws, his eyes flashing angrily. "I hold your life and death in my hands." "How would I know?" she shot back. "Hope you're better with your hands than you are with your cock, Billy G." He plunged his cock deeper still inside her. She went rigid and cried out. "That all you got?" she rasped, trying not to faint as she felt popping inside her hips while he stetched her. "My brother got in deeper than that when we were little!" "Insolent!" Krampus snarled savagely, bouncing her up and down and he fucked her harder than ever, pulling on her arms and legs, stretching her joints til they creaked. She felt a deep, wet heat building inside her and in spite of the horror she consciously felt about the situation, even more dire was her need to cum. She felt her cunt squeezing around his cock. His snake-like tongue probed her ass and wriggled inside, further adding to her desperation. "Intholent bith, you will be punithed!" "What was that?" Santa asked, turning his head slightly and putting his hand to his ear. "I couldn't understand you, it's like you have a lisp or something." "Don't mock meef!" Krampus said angrily, his tongue whipping out of Ginny's ass, causing her to yelp suddenly. "I'll kill her, Kringle!" "Not before I cum, damn you!" Ginny panted, her body flushed and covered in sweat as she twisted and writhed in his grip. "Uh, so close, goddammit!" "Language!" Santa and Krampus both snapped at her. "Aw, c'mon!" she wailed. "You two are total pains in the ass! Do it, Billy! Show me what a bad boy you are!" Krampus glared at her and began fucking her harder than ever. "As you wish, child!" "Krampus!" Santa shouted, reaching out his hand in alarm. "Don't!" Krampus grinned evilly at Santa, his teeth clenching as he drew close to climax. His cock seemed to swell along its length, stretching her wider still. She threw her head back and gritted her teeth, straining as she was overwhelmed by sensation; Santa's fist slammed across Krampus' jaw with a powerful crack. The demonoid's eyes rolled into his head and he crumpled to the ground. Ginny wailed in frustration as his cock pulled out of her and retreated back to his body, like a wet, slimy Stanley tape measure. She collapsed to her hands and knees in the snow, panting and shaking, her eyes wide. Santa raced up and knelt next to her, his eyes shining with concern. "Fuck;" Ginny whispered, gasping for air. "Motherfucker;" She looked up at her rescuer now, her eyes flashing accusingly. "The hell? Couldn't you have let him make me cum first?" Santa paused. "What?" "I was so damn close!" she hissed, standing up and stamping her foot. "I was within half a second of the orgasm of my life and you had to choose that moment to intervene and play the hero! Don't expect a thank you card!" "Uh, Virginia," Santa said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to figure out what to say. "If he had brought you to orgasm, it would have killed you. When Krampus climaxes, his appendage you were so attached to bursts into spikes, basically killing you from the inside while denying you your orgasm." She paused and then deflated. "Holy cobra dildos. What a bastard." Ginny then pointed a finger at her savior. "But you still owe me an orgasm, then, pal. You may have rescued me from certain death, but that doesn't mean I don't need relief." Santa looked really confused. "What, here? Now?" "Damn straight," she said firmly, suddenly remembering she was buck naked in a snow-storm. In spite of the no-doubt freezing weather, her body was still warm and very wet with need. She put her hand down her cunt and felt around for a moment before presenting her sticky palm and fingers to Santa for inspection. "Do I look satisfied to you? You've already fucked me, Screamo the Goat Boy just fucked me, who cares if your freaky gay elves watch us? I need satisfaction now and I already am aware that you can't say no." Santa sighed. "It's gotta be quick, Virginia. I'm really behind, now that I'm completely temporal in one location." "Whatever, just get me to the promised land, man." Ginny replied, shrugging. "Who knows, maybe your entourage might enjoy a show." "Oh, right, about that," Santa said, standing up tall and shouting loudly. "About; Face!" As a single unit, the elves all turned around smartly on their heels, still arranged in a protective ring around their liege and his companion, weapons ready as they scanned the darkness for trouble, their eyes glowing menacingly inside their helmets. Santa strode up to Ginny, towering over her and ignoring the prostrate form of the still-unconscious Krampus, snuffling nearby. She smiled up at him, somehow warmed by his presence, in spite of the icy night she should have frozen to death in already. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. She moaned into his mouth as she felt her already molten core getting even more heated in response to his touch. Tongues tangled and played as he took her ass cheeks in his hands and squeezed them, making her shiver. Ginny's hands fumbled with his large black belt until it fell away and then pulled down his red pants. He pulled her onto his powerful thighs, resting her on them. She hooked her legs behind his waist and began grinding her wet, eager cunt against his hardening cock, which swelled readily. Her head was almost spinning, she was so horny. "Hmm, give it to me, baby," she purred, feeling the head of his cock touch her cunt lips. "Make me cum hard and fast." She sighed loudly as he pulled her close, penetrating and sliding deep inside her. Ginny moaned shamelessly as Santa once again began to pump back and forth inside her. His huge cock stretched her cunt wide, but not in the violent, violating way Krampus did. This felt warm and utterly perfect. She nipped at the skin of his chest while he moved in and out of her. "Yes," Ginny breathed as he began to moved faster, pumping strongly and rhythmically. She could feel her wetness trickling down between her cheeks, her cunt clutching at him hungrily, greedily and unwilling to let go until it was somehow sated. "Oh, God, just what I needed. Yes, fuck me, Santa!" He gripped her tight and thrust into her, picking up his pace just the way she wanted. She was gasping and yelping now and he squeezed her cheeks, one of his fingers poking inside her puckered knot. She clenched her teeth and groaned at the intrusion, murmuring that she loved it. She grew warmer and warmer, her body tingling with an exquisite fire that rippled out from her core. Santa turned her around and set her feet on top of his boots, bending her forward and pulling on her arms. She cried out as he fucked her harder, his hips thumping against her ass cheeks. Her hands clenched wildly, her breath coming in gasps as his overwhelming strength dominated her. "Oh, God!" she panted, beginning to shudder uncontrollably, almost drooling. "Uh, cum in me, dammit! Fucking cum in me!" Santa pulled on her arms even tighter as his thighs slammed into her. Ginny strained, craning her neck, teeth clenched as she tried not to scream, but it was no use, she wailed loudly as he came inside her, filling her once again in a way she could not describe. Her orgasm shook every last atom of her being, transporting her to a world of nothing but pleasure, edged with mint. She buckled, hanging loosely in his arms, exhausted. She'd been fucked hard at least five times tonight and had a dreadful suspicion that this experience would only make her libido even more hyperactive. She sighed as Santa scooped her naked form into his arms and cuddled her against the cold. Ginny purred and traced a fingernail across his broad chest. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Just what the doctor ordered. That quenched the flames, for now." He finally put her down and she looked at the remains of her ruined chateau, which was completely leveled and now on fire. "Poor Oatmeal," she murmured. "Where am I going to live?" She scowled down at the still supine Krampus, anger flaring in her. "It's this jack wagon’s fault. You should totally napalm his face." Santa looked down at her in shock. "Did you just say I should jerk off in Krampus' face?" "Damn right, he'd deserve it too." Ginny announced. "That and shove your sleigh up his ass." "I am not jizzing in Krampus' face." Santa said, clearly repulsed by the suggestion. "Fine, leave a woman to do a man's job," Ginny said testily, striding over to Krampus and putting one leg on either side of his head. She stuck three fingers inside her cunt and managed to tease out considerable amounts of Santa's minty cum, which she smeared all over Krampus' face and into his fur with glee, even giving him a glistening white moustache. "Take that, asshole!" She looked like she might have been done desecrating the unconscious form, but then she paused and squatted over him, peeing on his body and face, the stream steaming in the cold night air. She grinned evilly as she thoroughly baptized him. "Teach you to mess with me." Ginny muttered as she walked back to Santa, nodding. The huge man had a wide smirk on his face and shook his head slowly. "I can't believe you just pissed all over Krampus," he said, hugging her to him. "However, you're going to freeze to death at this rate;" He held out his hand and one of his elves dutifully brought him a large, velvety red cloak, which he wrapped around her. She blushed and smiled gratefully at his consideration, but only until he slid it off her, revealing that she was now wearing some ridiculous 'Hot Christmas Elf' outfit, complete with striped stockings and high heels. She looked like a Yule whore. "Seriously?" she asked, unimpressed. "This is your solution to my naked issues?" He shrugged. "I liked you better naked, but you would freeze quickly." "Whatever," she sighed, looking down and appreciating the considerable lift it gave her cleavage. It was incredibly warm, in spite of how scant it was. "So now what? I still have no damn home, you and Goatse here blew it up with your little barnyard brawl." Santa looked around warily. "That might be the least of your worries. The wind's picking up again, which means that another assault is coming. We need to get out of here." "Sire!" said one of the armored elves, thumping his fist to his breastplate and bowing his head. "We will cover you. You must go while you still have a head-start and the dark one is unconscious." Santa nodded. "Yeah, he's not gonna be happy when he wakes up and he's really gonna want revenge on you, Virginia." She felt her mouth go dry at the notion of another battle and Krampus waking up to even the score. "So; now what?" Santa shrugged. "I'd say it's fairly obvious. I've still got to make my rounds before the night is over and I'm not leaving you here;" She gaped as he put his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. "Virginia, you're coming with me and you're going to help save Christmas." Chapter 3, Christmas Wishes "How the hell do you drive this thing?" Ginny called in a panic, her eyes wide as she held onto the reigns, twisting them wildly as she tried to steer. Up ahead of her, eight large reindeer squealed and thrashed their heads. The sleigh corkscrewed while it hurtled through the cold night air, the moon shining down on them. "Well, first of all, stop panicking," Santa replied as he stood on the back of the sleigh, atop his huge red sack of toys. He was more or less back to his original size she had become accustomed to, now that he had sent his other 'iterations' of himself out over the globe to deliver presents. "That would be an excellent start." "Easy for you to say," she snapped, scowling back at him for a moment since taking her eyes off her designated path seemed to make no difference to how she was doing at navigating. "You're used to doing this!" "Trust me, between the two of us, you're the one with the easy job right now and I'd be happy to trade," he called back as he ducked wildly. A comically large rocket thundered by, with an evil-looking man strapped to the bottom of it, swinging a weapon wildly to hit Santa. "Try to keep her steady!" "While dodging psychos on rockets, no problem!" she grumbled, trying to ignore the howling wind and roaring projectiles. "Have I mentioned Krampus is a gigantic asshole?" "Repeatedly," Santa answered, watching warily. The sky was threaded with jets of fire as their enemies kept coming about in ponderous, elliptical arcs and heading back towards them, intent on their destruction. They had only just pulled off from the smoldering remains of Ginny's country chateau when the assault began. Krampus was nowhere to be seen, but his minions were clearly determined to avenge him. "Maybe urinating on him wasn't such a good idea. He never did take humiliation well." Ginny squawked in alarm and ducked as a rocket streaked right at her. Santa jumped in the air, doing the splits to avoid the projectile and landing back on top of his present sack. Another tried to pull up alongside them but Santa grabbed the harness the man was wearing and wrenched the rocket off course, sending it speeding into one some distance away. Both rockets (and presumably their pilots) exploded in a violent orgy of noise and flashing lights. "Really hope people just think those are fireworks," Santa muttered as he looked glared balefully at yet another rocket considering approaching. "Fireworks right in the middle of the world's most spastic meteor shower. Sure, they'll buy that;" "Funny part is I can't tell if you're serious," Ginny said loudly. "If they don't believe that narrative, then they've gotta accept that Santa Claus was engaged in an epic air battle over their town with quantum men strapped to rockets." "Truth is often stranger than fiction," Santa agreed, nodding. "Fighting these jerks off is taking too much time!" "Well, don't you have anything in your back of tricks there?" Ginny asked. In spite of the sleigh being open, it seemed to have some weird form of climate control and she'd been getting rather warm. To that end she'd pulled down her top, exposing her tits to cool herself off. The breeze allowed through made her nipples tingle delightfully, but not enough to distract her from driving the sleigh. After all, she often drove ninety minutes to her job wearing a vibrating insert in her panties, so she knew for a fact she could orgasm and still control a vehicle. A wheeled one, at least. She wasn't so sure about a sleigh doing Mach Three at twenty thousand feet. "You mean a weapon?" Santa asked. "In the bag full of toys for kids?" "You gave me a nerf gun out of that bag and it turned out to be some sort of doomsday device, didn't it?" she pointed out. "Scary lightning bolts everywhere. I refuse to believe you don't have some other goodies in there." Santa shrugged and squatted down to look inside the bag, getting narrowly missed by another rocket that shot over his head. The pilot cursed and came around again, aiming directly at the chassis of the sleigh from the side. Ginny's eyes widened in fright as she saw him approach. She jerked the reins to one side and the sleigh tilted ninety degrees, presenting its wide, flat red underside. The rocket slammed into it and exploded. Whatever it was made of or whatever shielding was in place, Ginny only heard the detonation and felt a rumble, but there was no damage aside from that. "Ha!" Santa said, standing tall and holding an electric guitar in the air, its black body gleamed in the moonlight. He put the strap around his neck and took several seconds to tune it, ignoring the aerial mayhem that swirled around him. "The hell are you going to do with that?" Ginny asked, scowling as she looked behind to see what he was up to. "You said to find something, I found something," he said simply as he checked the pickups. "Now let's see what we can do here;" He took the pick in hand and strummed it across the strings, a screeching pulse of sound blared out from the instrument, heading in all directions. It struck several rockets nearby, which exploded brightly. Other were knocked off course, spiraling around crazily as they fought for control. Santa laughed loudly, apparently enjoying himself. "Quit laughing and kill, red man!" Ginny yelled, nonplussed by his amusement. "I want to survive the night and I've had several close calls with death already!" "I'm working on it, Virginia, patience." Santa chided, adjusting the tuners momentarily. "Near-death experiences make you cranky." "No shit, Sherlock," she grumbled as he blasted out another screeching wave of sound. "Do you plan to play anything or just keep shrieking out that one sound?" "As you wish," he said cheerfully, pleased to be doing as she asked. Making her happy was all he cared about. He began playing a heavy metal version of Wagner's 'Ride of the Valkyries', the pulsing walls of sound thundering out and striking every foe within hundreds of

Miracle On Route 34: Part 1 Ginny gets a wonderful Christmas surprise. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Author's Notes: Someone asked me to write a funny and erotic Christmas tale, but since I can't be normal, it is taking on a radical twist that I hope people will find amusing. I've tried to make Santa awesome but also give him some flaws that the ladies will find both charming and irksome all at once. I wasn't going to call it anything lame like 'Here Cums Santa Claus' (in spite of my love of Elvis) so I eventually settled on ripping off a classic and beloved Christmas movie, naming it 'Miracle On Rural Road 34'. Couldn't help myself with the 'Yes, Virginia' quip, of course. As for Superman, Oatmeal and the Easter Bunny, well, get used to more groaners like that, because I like them. Merry ho-ho and keep your stick on the ice! , Management Chapter 1. Ginny Hale sighed forlornly as she sat on her chesterfield in the dim room, the only light provided by the crackling fireplace and some scented candles spread around to make the house smell like gingerbread. She'd made gingerbread cookies earlier, but they were predictably burnt and now her kitchen smelled like a Christmas elf's ass. She took another sip of red wine from her oversized glass, unable to decide who or what to be mad at, the weather, for bringing this god-awful blizzard on Christmas Eve, her so-called friends for ditching her after she'd gone to all this work to put together a nice party, or herself for going crazy and buying this (admittedly nice) chateau way out here in the boondocks. Still relatively new to her negotiator position, Ginny had landed a huge deal for the company she worked for and the payout bonus was one of the biggest ever seen in-house. Though she had an office, she had often worked from her cramped apartment downtown, where a glorious chaos only she understood reigned. But the payout had been large enough for her to purchase a very pretty home in the country, not more than ninety minutes from work. Her boss was so pleased with the deal that he said she only had to come in once a week, to pick up whatever she needed to work on. It had seemed like a great idea at the time, but now she found she was quite lonely. Few people were will to put forth the effort to come out and visit her. In fact, only three had since the summer when she bought it. Hell, even her boy-toy, Chad from Accounting, could not be bothered and was now just fucking Lily in the secretary pool instead. Bing Crosby was singing 'White Christmas' to her while she moped. The big bay windows to her back porch showed the fury of the storm outside. Driving snow had been battering the countryside for two days now and her boss had called her to just stay safe and not try to come into the city. He was a nice old man and she liked him. He'd actually taken a chance and given her the job, after she'd fucked him. She hadn't invited him to her little soiree, because his miserable old bat of a wife was hovering around him constantly these days, certain he'd been tipping on her. But even without Old Man Reese, she'd invited upward of twenty people and none of them had shown. Not even Claire, her best supposed friend, had made it out. She was probably too busy being pinned and screwed by her boyfriend anyway, Guido or Nunzio or whatever his name was. Dean Martin came on, singing 'Marshmallow World'. Normally this was one of her favorites, but tonight it just reminded her that she was alone for Christmas. Again. With another sigh, she drank the rest of the wine in her glass and reached for the bottle, turning it over. It was empty. Damn. She'd have to open another one. She walked slowly into the kitchen, wearing her ratty old fox-themed footie pajamas, having decided that if she didn't have to dress up for anyone, she was dressing at all. She took a deep drink of spiked egg nog from the jug of it she'd prepared while she found another bottle of zinfandel and burped very loudly. She wrestled the cork off of the bottle and poured most of the contents into her oversized glass, muttering that she didn't have to answer to anyone about what she did, she was a big girl. She slumped back down on the couch while John Lennon asked her what she'd done for Christmas from the stereo system. "Up yours, John;" she said testily as she drank more wine. She stood unsteadily, blinking for a moment to try and clear her head. She might have had a bit of a wine fog going on, since she'd nearly polished off two bottles of Old Vine Zinfandel in under two hours. Convincing herself that walking was not a bad idea, she tottered over to the bay windows, reaching a hand out in front of herself to make sure it encountered the glass before her face did. "Will you look at that shit out there;" she muttered to no one in particular. After all, there was no one around to hear her. Well, almost no one. "Hi, Oatmeal," she said sweetly, grinning lopsidedly at the bearded dragon that sat in a terrarium near the bay doors. "Looks like you're my Christmas date; again;" The tiny lizard said nothing but assumed a darker shade of purplish brown. "Same to you too, bugface." Ginny muttered sourly, annoyed at being spurned by a reptile with a brain smaller than a sugared peanut. She lumbered back to the kitchen, trying unsuccessfully to eat several pieces of the Turkish Delight she'd tried to make, but they were sticky and runny, most of the reddish-pink mess ending up stuck to the front of her pajamas. "Son of a fucking reindeer!" she spat, attempting to remove the pajamas, her sticky fingers having trouble with the zipper. She finally kicked the thing off and left it in a corner of the kitchen, now wearing nothing except her panties and a halter top. She stomped back into the spacious living room, thoroughly annoyed. While the music played, she looked around for something to do, taking another pull from the egg nog jug she'd brought with her. The hot tub. It sat near the bay windows, set into the floor and was large enough for five or six people. She'd been hoping that maybe a few people of the dozens she'd invited would show and maybe they could have a fun pool party. She'd even told everyone in the invitations to bring their swimsuits. But of course, no one showed. She was beginning to suspect she could live in Buckingham Fucking Palace and still no one would come to see her. This was, literally, the fifth Christmas she'd spent by herself. The timing for friends never worked out and her parents were always off in Monaco or some such place, avoiding the weather. Her mom had already called earlier that night, so she wouldn't hear any more from them for a few days now. She sighed yet again and pulled off her underthings, stepping into the water. She was drunker than she wanted to admit, though, missing her footing, squealing and tumbling into the tub with a splash. Ginny came to the surface, sputtering and hissing in outrage. Why couldn't anything work out? Oatmeal just stared at her impassively. "You win this time, gravity;" she growled, displeased with her inelegant entrance. Well, at least she'd been smart enough to put down the jug of nog before trying to get in. She turned on the jets and retrieved her beverage, taking another big pull as the tub rumbled to life. Ginny laid back her head against one of the padded rests and tried to relax, to let her frustrations go. She turned on the jets and allowed one to massage her lower back while sipping at a glass of wine. She tried to put the frustrations of the holiday behind her, to let go of the feelings of rejection and somehow not belonging. "Why did I but this new fucking home if no one was interested in visiting? Everyone said they thought it was so great, but months later, still no visitors. Do I really not matter that much?" It annoyed her to think not only that she was alone, but that doubtless most of the people who had ditched her were at home getting laid. Claire was doubtless face down and ass up on her bed, getting plowed from behind by Guido. Even Mr. Reese, the old geezer, was probably getting some, either from his wife or maybe one of his secretaries. She sighed heavily and sat up, putting her now-empty wine glass aside and deciding that just because she was alone on Christmas Eve didn't mean she wasn't owed at least one good orgasm. She leaned forward and rested her forearms on the padded edge of the hot tub, positioning herself so that one of her jets, the one she'd named 'Juan', was right behind her. She felt the flow of water begin to caress her and she rested her head on her forearms as she wiggled further back, feeling the jet more strongly now as it pushed against her ass and her cunt. With a sigh, she found the perfect distance and pressed her face down into her arms, letting Juan work his magic. Water pressure massaged her cunt lips, strong enough to part them and to tease her clit, sending thrills through her. She shuddered and sighed loudly, forgetting, for now, how much men sucked. She bit the knuckle of her index finger, lost in reverie. God, if only it were a man fucking her. "Alone; on fucking Christmas; where's, ah!, where's the justice in that?" She was sweating now and panting as the relentless jets battered her nether tinglies, the sensations overwhelming her steadily. She clenched her teeth and her fists, straining as she fought to hold on a little longer. She moaned very loudly, her whole body shaking as Juan delivered a wonderful orgasm. She panted and groaned shamelessly, knowing that no one was around to see her in her pent-up, frustrated lust, expending it on her Jacuzzi jets. The scintillating lights behind her eyes, however, were over all too quickly and the climax subsided, replaced by a juddering sensitivity that made Juan's caress too much to bear. She collapsed against the edge of the hot tub, moving her ass away from the jet. "Alone; again;" She may have needed the orgasm, but it did nothing to improve her mood. It didn't help that the song 'This Christmas' by Shoes had begun playing as the cumming ended. When it finally felt like her legs would work again, she turned around and slumped into a corner of the tub, as far from Juan as possible. Ginny stayed still for some time, until her feet and fingers felt that annoying level of pruny that made everything awful to touch. With the heat of the water and all the alcohol she'd drunk, she was feeling rather light-headed, so she turned off the stereo and shut off the lights. She found a plate of her fucked-up and burnt gingerbread cookies and left them on a table near the fireplace along with the jug of nog before beginning to head upstairs to bed. "Yeah. Fuck this day. And fuck tomorrow too. Maybe if I stay drunk enough it'll just fly by. Fuck Christmas." The second floor was an open space in the middle, looking down onto the main floor. A set of stairs led up on either side and the bedrooms were spaced around the gallery. She'd loved the design when she bought it, but this only increased her frustration when no one ever came to visit. "Gorgeous fucking house; ten acres of beautiful nature filled with deer and ugly-ass wild turkeys; a fucking pond people could skate on; shit, I even found a patch of landrace back there! What's not to love about my new home? Why aren't people shitting themselves in jealousy?" She reached the master bedroom, sighing at how big it felt since she had no one to share it with. She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her naked body and sighing. She was trim and fit, with nicely-sized boobs, she kept her cunt shaved smooth and her full lips were simply made to suck cock. Her skin was fair and even and her dark brown hair was long enough to pull on if you were fucking her ass or taking her from behind. So what the hell was wrong? The bed was certainly big enough for two (or maybe her and two guys who didn't mind getting close), but she plunked herself down into it and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the room to stop drunk-spinning. It took longer than she wanted it to, but things finally slowed down an she breathed deeply. She reached over with her hand and fumbled around inside the drawer of the nightstand. She finally withdrew an elegant glass dildo, a barely opaque white with bright red stripes curling around it to simulate a candy cane. It had been a Christmas gift from Claire, who had jokingly given it to her until she found a man for herself. That bitch. "Well, Frosty," she sighed, examining him. "Looks like it's you and me tomorrow. I promise to not get out of bed except to go to the bathroom or get more booze, okay? Because I'm here for you;" And with that she kissed the dildo and put it aside. She turned out her lamp and sighed deeply as she lay in the dark, waiting for sleep to take her. "Fuck Christmas;" A noise from downstairs. Her eyes snapped open. She was sure she'd heard something. Her heart pounded in her chest. She took deep breaths to try and calm herself, reasoning that she'd been drunk and it might just be hangover noises. Maybe just something like branches scraping on the roof or across the walls? Ginny felt a flush of anger and slowly rose, getting out of bed and putting on a plush yellow robe. There were definitely sounds downstairs. She grabbed her rape whistle and her high-school field hockey stick off the wall before quietly opening the door and proceeding out of the room. Her cheeks flushed with fear and anger. How dare someone invade her house? And in this fucking weather! "Burglars? Ruffians? Escaped cons?" "Well, at least if they see you they might have their way with you and break your dry spell." She shook the vile notion from her head, wondering where the hell that'd come from. Could she be that desperate to get laid? Ginny walked as quietly as she could, hearing noises on the roof. Raccoons? Looking to get in from the cold? Fucking trash pandas. She rounded the corner of the gallery and put her foot on the top step, her hockey stick ready. She crept down the stairs, still hearing the noises. They seemed to be coming from her living room. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to identify anything that might be amiss. Then she saw him, a symphony of red trimmed in white, the huge ass swaying back and forth as the intruder was bent over her at the base of her Christmas tree, doing God only knows what to it. He seemed to be humming to himself. She walked up silently until she was maybe ten feet away from him, her hockey stick over her shoulder, ready to swing. He didn't hear her or took no notice of her. "I don't want to hurt you," she growled through clenched teeth. "But you'd best get the fuck out of my house or I'll hit you so hard Google won't be able to find you." The person in red paused in their activities and then stood up slowly. After another moment's pause, they stood up and turned around slowly. He was slightly taller than average and quite a bit fatter than societal norms allowed. He had a fat face with dancing blue eyes and red cheeks. Beneath the tapered red hat was long, silvery-white hair and a very full beard and moustache. The intruder looked at her and grinned. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked with a voice that could only be described as jolly. Ginny said nothing. She seemed to be rooted to the spot. She wanted to say something, anything, but she seemed to have been robbed of the power of speech. "W, who;" she finally managed to stammer. "Yes, Virginia," the visitor said quietly but pleasantly in a soothing voice. "There really is a Santa Claus." She blinked and shook her head, trying to articulate a coherent thought. The big man in red chuckled, clearly amused by her predicament. "Your egg nog was very good," he mentioned as he walked forward a little. "Your cookies needed a little work, but I appreciate the effort. Maybe a cookbook next year?" "Stay still!" she snapped, suddenly coming out of her stupor and holding the hockey stick behind her head as if she was winding up for a hit. "I'll deck you, old man!" "Oh, there's no need for that," he said cheerfully, totally unconcerned by her threat. "It's been a rough year for you, hasn't it, Ginny?" "Why do you know my name?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Of course I know it," the man claiming to be Santa said jovially. "I'd be pretty lousy at my job if I didn't, right?" "If you're really Santa," she said tightly, still not understanding why she hadn't knocked this guy's head off his shoulders yet. "Then what was I doing the night of October seventeenth last year?" He tilted his head to the side a little and pursed his lips. "Are you sure?" "C'mon, you haven't got all day." "Very well," he said, sighing. "You were sitting in McPhearson's Pub, waiting vainly for Greg from IT to show up, because you'd given him a blowjob in the bathroom earlier that day and promised him more. But he went off with Becky from Accounts that night instead of meeting up with you." She blushed furiously at the memory. "I; that wasn't the day I meant! I meant the sixteenth!" He shrugged. "You had the day off and were really frustrated. You slid a condom over that very field hockey stick and used it on yourself, just to see what it was like." Ginny dropped the stick very suddenly. "How the hell do you know that, you perv?" The man shrugged. "I know all about you, Ginny. And every other boy and girl in the world" "Don't give me that horseshit!" she hissed, glaring at him. "I had too many Christmases where I didn't get what I want to buy into that cockamamie story!" "Well, you weren't exactly the most exemplary child, were you?" he reasoned. "I mean, you weren't horrible, it's not like you were out kicking puppies into woodchippers, but you spent more time in the naughty column that the good column, didn't you?" "What did I ever do that was so naughty?" she demanded hotly, her fists bunched up at her sides. "You and your brother could get rather friendly, couldn't you?" the man calling himself Santa pointed out. She faltered for a moment. "Lots of siblings play doctor. And those atomic booty bombs where I kept jumping in the air and landing on him were just playful." "While naked?" Santa asked, raising a bushy white eyebrow. Ginny blushed. "But that wasn't what landed you on the naughty list," he added. "What got you blacklisted was that you lied about doing your homework or cleaning your room while you were messing around with your brother. Your mom and dad would ask you to do your math and you'd slip away to play doctor instead and tell them you'd finished your homework after. Lying is naughty, right?" "Woah, hold the phone here," she said loudly, holding her head as if she was suddenly dizzy from a revelation. She didn't seem to notice that her robe had opened slightly, exposing her cleavage. "Are you fucking kidding me? Fibbing to my parents kept me from getting the gifts I wanted?" "Were the rules unclear?" Santa asked. "I thought the songs on the subject were so easy to follow." Ginny pinched her eyes in exasperation and then scowled at him. "I'm drunk," she concluded, trying to convince herself none of this was real. "I'm drunker than Sarah Palin and you're not really here. I'm still in bed and this is all bullshit." Santa shrugged. "I was putting stuff under your tree until you arrived and enjoying the nog. I won't mind if you go back to bed." "No, you're not getting off that easily," she said in annoyance. "You broke into my house in the middle of the storm of the fucking century and I want answers, dammit!" He shrugged. "Fair enough. Ask away." Her eyes narrowed again. "Aren't you on kind of a time crunch? Unless I'm the last person on your delivery list, don't you still have a shit ton of houses to visit? Say, a few hundred million?" He waved it off. "I've got it covered, I promise. I have all the time in the world for you, Ginny. I always have." "What, so you sub-contract out?" she said snidely. "Got FedEx making the rounds for you? Or maybe your 'Elves'?" She mentioned the last bit with air quotes. "Goodness, this has been a bad year for you, hasn't it?" he said sympathetically. "But to answer your question, I am capable of being many places at once." "Oh, so now you're the Kwizatz-Haderach?" she asked archly. "Hey, it's not just cinnamon I put in my Christmas cider." Santa chuckled. "It's rather complicated to explain." "So do you, like, clone yourself?" she asked, her guard seeming to slowly come down. "No, not at all," he said, shaking his head. "It involves Cherenkov Radiation, a Holmes field, a Gellar field and, to quote a friend of mine, 'a lot of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey; stuff.'" "So it's some sort of deep quantum shit?" she asked, her body finally relaxing. He nodded, smiling. "Yes, it's very temporal and quantum. I can be many places at once. It's why I don't have to pay for billions in window repairs every year by going supersonic around the world." "So even while you're talking to me, you're delivering presents?" she asked, the sheer depth of the conversation hitting her now. She walked over to a stool and sat on it. "Like I said, it's difficult to explain without breaking out the chalkboard and calculator," he answered. "The magnetic lines between the poles help, especially the one that emanates from the Fortress of Solitude." Ginny blinked. "Fortress of Solitude? As in Superman? You're friends with Superman?" "Of course not!" the jolly man laughed. "There's no such thing as Superman, silly, he's a comic book character. Had you going, though." "Holy shit, Santa's a troll," she exclaimed, looking at him in bewilderment. "Well, okay, let's assume that this is all real and not a vivid hallucination resulting from a brain tumor. If I've been such a brat all these years, how do I make up for it? How do I get off the naughty girl list?" "Well, a little restraint would be a start," Santa suggested. "I'm not saying go out and become a Carthusian nun or a Buddhist priestess or anything, but you might try laying off the rampant promiscuity." "Why is that so bad?" she demanded. "What's so wrong with wanting to get banged?" "Nothing," he said simply. "But inevitably you get yourself into some kind of weird situation and end up lying your behind off and lying is a naughty thing to do. So try keeping your legs bolted together a little more." "Really;" she said, clearly not impressed. "Celibacy lessons from Santa Claus. Now I've heard everything." "According to my report here and speaking frankly, it's taken guys a lot less attractive than me a lot less effort to get you out of your clothes." Santa mentioned. "This coming from a guy who could clearly use a few P90-X sessions!" she shot back hotly, standing up, her robe opening further as she stomped toward him. He looked down at himself for a moment and guffawed. "Oh, right, I keep forgetting about that; hang on;" The man held his hands out to his sides and began to glow. The luminous display lit up the room progressively and Ginny held her hand in front of her face when it became too bright to look at for several seconds. When the light finally died away, leaving them once again in the softly lit living room, Ginny gaped in shock at what she saw. He was tall, powerfully built, with chiseled muscles, an eight pack and flawless, healthy skin. He'd removed his coat but the red pants remained, stretched tight over muscular thighs. Long, wavy, copper-colored hair fell past his shoulders and the full beard was reddish-gold. The sapphire-blue eyes stared down at her, still glittering with mirth. "Holy Jesus on a pogo stick;" she breathed, her voice little more than a whisper. "You're a total lumbersexual;" "This is what I really look like," he said, spreading his hands out to the sides and showing her his body. His chest rippled as the muscles flexed with the motion. "But kids react to the fat old man disguise better." "I'll bet mothers don't," she murmured, coming forward as if compelled and reaching out to touch his chest and washboard abs. "It's like you're Photo-shopped." He smiled as her hands caressed his abs. "You make me want to not get off the naughty list." "I think I know what you really want for Christmas;" he said slyly. Ginny paused and looked up at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" "No, I can't lie." the man in red pants replied. "I thought it was Superman who couldn't lie." "Well, the writers had to get that idea from somewhere, I guess." Santa mused. "In any event, if you want, you could end up on the good girl list by being rather naughty." She stared at him. "So; get laid by Santa for Christmas?" He shrugged. "There might be some other goodies in the bag for you, but I think we both know what Ginny really wants and needs for Christmas." "This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy!" she thought to herself, wrestling with her sensibilities. "If this is all just a dream, then I can fuck hunky Santa and have no regrets. If this is real, I can fuck sexy Santa and remember it in the morning! It's win-win!" "Well, this is super-easy," she declared. "Santa, I want you to fuck my brains out for Christmas." "With pleasure, Ginny!" he said, laughing merrily. "Whatever you like, however you want it. I have to keep the kiddies happy." "Good, but just don't say 'kiddies' anymore, because that's kinda creepy," she said, throwing her caution to the wind. She knelt down in front of him, putting her hands on the oversized silver belt buckle and undoing it. Letting it drop, she put her fingers on the front of his pants, caressing them over the crotch. Her mouth went dry. "That'd better not be a secondary present sack you're teasing me with;" Ginny hooked her fingers into the top of the velvety pants and pulled them down, revealing his cock. She drew in her breath slowly, her eyes widening. "Jesus," she muttered. "You're hung like a fat kid's Christmas stocking;" "Thanks, I make due." Santa said cheerfully, watching her admire his cock. "By the way, shouldn't I call you something else?" she asked, looking up at him while her hand reached up to take his huge shaft, wrapping around it, barely. "I mean, most people call you Santa Claus, but isn't your name Nick or Kris or something?" He shrugged again, grinning. "Nick, Kris, Klaus, Pelznickel, Joulupukki, Kanakaloka, Dun Che Lao Ren, Weihnachtsmann, Swiety Mikolaj, Hoteiosho, Jultomten, I don't mind, Ginny. I just like hearing you say my name the way you think of me." "Hmm, Santa;" she replied, smiling as she stroked her hand along his shaft, eyeing it hungrily. How the hell was she going to fit that all in her mouth, forget her aching cunt? "Ah, don't use that word," he chided, holding up a finger. "Some words are still naughty, even when you're an adult." "Stay out of my mind then, creeper." Ginny said as she leaned forward and swirled her tongue around the fat head of his cock. She flicked it around the tip and then slowly took it inside her mouth, tongue rolling against it. "The hell? How can his cock taste like mint?" "Just wait til you taste my cum." Santa said, leering. "Fine, but it better not taste like turkey gravy or we're gonna box." Ginny said as she pulled her mouth back for a moment. She pumped her hand gently along the shaft, studying her quarry intently. It was definitely the biggest cock she'd ever taken on, and the best-tasting. She'd been experiencing trippy magic all evening, maybe she could fit this monster in her mouth this one night; She put the head back in her mouth and relaxed, slowly pushing down the shaft. She moaned as she felt him slide to the back of her mouth and then to her throat. She felt him tremble and lay a huge but gentle hand on the back of her head. "Holy shit; I'm deep-throating Santa Claus;" Ginny took a deep breath through her nose and then tried to relax. Her whole body was tingling with excitement and the whole minty cock thing was throwing her off. Her tongue undulated along the underside of his shaft while the fingers of one hand formed a ring around the base of his cock and the other cupped his balls, fondling them. Ginny was proud of her cocksucking skills and if there was anyone she ever needed to impress with them (aside from her 11th Grade math teacher), it was probably Santa. She calmed herself and began pulling her mouth back along his length, humming and letting her lips vibrate softly on his sensitive skin. "Now I know why Mister Bondi gave you that A in math," Santa chuckled. "You're a very naughty girl, Virginia." "Hmm, only for you, Santa baby;" she cooed as she pulled her mouth off his cock long enough to respond, stroking slowly and swirling her tongue around the head again. She then slid back down the entire length, moaning in pleasure. She could feel her nipples getting hard and her cunt was very, very wet beneath her robe. Both his hands were on the back of her head now and holding her gently but firmly. She began to slowly bob back and forth, thrilled at how she was able to take this enormous beast of a cock all the way in her mouth. Sure, maybe there was some weird physics involved that compressed space and time or some shit, but she didn't care and he certainly didn't seem to mind. "Hmm, very good, Virginia;" he said softly, stroking her hair. No one ever called her Virginia and she didn't know why it gave her a tingle when he did. His cock was very full and very hard now, like a pulsing iron rod covered in mint-flavored velvet. She almost giggled at the thought of how crazy this all was. She really hoped it wasn't a dream. Her thumb began to squeeze along the underside of his cock as her hand followed her mouth up and down his length. The shaft glistened wetly and the mint was making her drool. She undid her robe and let it fall away, the air of the room kissing her flushed skin. Her hands now took hold of his powerful thighs and she began moving back and forth along his cock more quickly. She could feel his hands flexing in her long, dark hair, caressing her skin. Breathing through her nose, she moaned as she sucked ardently, her cunt almost aching with desire. She was hoping he would last long enough to fuck her when he went rigid suddenly and groaned, gripping her head tightly and his hips shuddering. Ginny's eyes widened as she felt him began to cum inside her mouth, spurting strongly. She began swallowing hastily, almost in a panic as Santa pumped his hips against her face. "Holy shit! Fucking eggnog?" He kept cumming and she was sure she might actually drown when he pulled his huge cock out of her mouth and pumped it furiously in his hand, spattering her tits and stomach with his glistening load. She'd never seen so much cum in her life. It tingled on her skin. Finally, Santa relaxed, allowing Ginny to put her mouth back around his cock and suck the rest of his cum from him. He was sighing and breathing rather heavily, apparently having enjoyed himself. She eventually released him and smiled up at him wickedly. "So," she cooed, winking while she gently pumped his cock with her hand. "Am I back on the good girl list?" "Oh, I'd think so," he said, grinned. "But it's not like I've given you your whole present yet." "Jeez, you can still go?" she asked almost in disbelief but also delighted. She really needed to be fucked hard now. "Your cock taste like mint, your cum tastes like nog, your ass probably tastes like hot cocoa or nutmeg and you can keep it up all night?" "Up all night is kind of my thing, at least once a year." Santa said cheerfully. "So how would you like for me to give you the rest of your present, Virginia?" "Well, golly, Santa," she mused, making a show of thinking while she stroked his cock. "Since you seem to be the gift that keeps on giving, how about we just wing it?" He nodded and she stood up, keeping hold of his cock and gently led him over to the large chesterfield, hoping it would hold his rather muscular frame. She knelt on it, resting her arms along the raised back and smiled at him, wiggling her behind. She wouldn't believe how wet her cunt was. "You gonna hurry down my chimney, Santa-baby?" she asked, smiling slyly. "I can't believe you just said that!" he laughed jovially. He may not have been older, fatter Santa, but the laugh still definitely suited him. He stepped up behind her and took gentle hold of her hips. She could feel him press against her ass and she shivered in anticipation. He slid his massive cock up and down between her ass cheeks, teasing her until she was writhing in desperation. He seemed to know instinctively what she loved most. Which only made sense, since he was Santa. "Ready, Virginia?" he asked as he pressed the huge mushroom head against her sticky cunt. She nodded eagerly, unwilling to speak. He slid the head in, parting her lips and penetrating her. She groaned loudly as he began to stretch her inner walls. With a slow, steady push of his hips, he pushed the entire length of his cock deep inside her. It robbed her of her breath, she'd never felt so full in her life, even that one time she'd been so horny she'd fucked her parent's bedpost. "Ah; uh;" she gasped, eyes wide. The sensations were like nothing she'd ever experienced. His cock completely filled her to a delightful stretch that didn't hurt except in the good way. His iron shaft throbbed in time with her heartbeat. It was wonderfully warm but also strangely cool all at once, tingling, like mint again. How the hell could her cunt taste peppermint? "Language, Virginia;" he chided again as he pressed in just a little bit further. By right his cockhead should have bruising her brainstem, but there was no doubt some weird physics shit involved that she decided not to think about. She was getting fucked by Santa, after all. She pressed her forehead against the back of the couch and tried squeezing her cunt around his titan cock or pressing back against him, squirming her ass against his hips. She shuddered in delight, loving how he felt inside her. His hands reached under her body and squeezed and massaged her tits, sending delicious thrills through her. He began to move slowly back and forth, pulling back until just the tip was inside her and pushing in steadily, almost robbing her of breath. She began to feel like a blacksmith's bellows very quickly. The feel of his cock sliding inside her, stretching her and touching deep inside in ways she hadn't known were possible; "Oh my god;" she gasped, fingers digging into the back of the couch. "You're tearing me apart and I love it;" "Only the best for my Virginia," he said, his ruddy cheeks taking on a flush tone as he fucked her. Her fingers squeezed the meat of her thighs and hips or flexed on her ass cheeks. His heavy balls slapped against her cunt as he drove inside her. Strong yet gentle, forceful and commanding yet accommodating. She felt dominated yet exalted somehow. His hand wrapped in her hair and she groaned loudly as he pulled on it, craning her neck. She shuddered in pleasure, feeling her spine almost accordion as he thrust inside while pulling her head back. Her could feel the pulse of his cock through her whole body. Her nails scratched along the couch, almost clawing it. "Uh, you're gonna make me cum so fucking hard;" she wailed, feeling the sweat forming on her skin. "Oh my gawd;" "You're going to make me cum hard too," he panted, thrusting deep inside, thumping his hips against her ass. "You feel wonderful and tight, Virginia;" "Oh, God, he's gonna cum in me;" she realized. "Santa's gonna fucking cum in me and he's not wearing anything! Will my birth control work? Shit, will my kids always smell like mint?" "Oh, God, cum in me!" she panted, thrusting herself back against him and grinding shamelessly. "Fucking cum in me, Santa!" "Ya want me to cum in you?" he hissed, his body beginning to tremble. It felt like his cock was getting bigger inside her. "Want my cum in you?" "God, yes!" Ginny squeaked, clenching her teeth. "Fucking cum in me and make me scream!" They strained against one another desperately and then she cried out as a massive orgasm crashed over her. It battered her senses as she felt his hot-yet-tingly-cool cum bathing her insides relentlessly. Her cunt was making greedy sucking sounds as she came, her whole body shuddering almost uncontrollably. She squeezed and clenched and rippled her tight tunnel round him, reveling in the way he stretched and penetrated her ever more deeply. She collapsed against the chesterfield, panting heavily, her body drenched in sweat. His massive, hard cock was still deep inside her, pinning her to him. She felt like she was made of lead, an exquisite exhaustion while pleasure crawled over her languidly. That was beyond anything she had ever experienced. But he didn't seem to be done with her. His powerful hands took hold of Ginny and turned her around so she was squatting on the couch, her knees spread wide and her arms slung across the high back. She looked up at him in weary astonishment as he nestled himself between her legs and pressed his cock against her sopping cunt again. "Ah!" she wailed as he slid deep inside her again, his huge cock splitting her wide. Her nails dug into the couch again and she clenched her teeth as she sucked in her breath. Ginny tried to regulate her breathing while Santa began sliding in and out slowly, looking down at her with those penetrating blue eyes. "Jesus," she grunted, feeling almost like a rag doll in his hands, which gripped her hips. "Gonna fucking kill me with that thing!" "Oh, let's hope not," he replied, thrusting into her strongly. "I'm nowhere near done with you." She gazed up at him, trembling as he fucked her good and hard. She bit her lip as he squeezed her thighs, before moving his hands up to squeeze her tits, pinching her nipples. She groaned shamelessly as the delicious sting electrified her senses. She tried to squeeze herself around him, baffled by how big he felt inside her. She gasped and whimpered as he slapped her cunt lightly. She reached forward and raked her nails over his powerful chest, leaving red marks along the defined muscles. She ground her hips against him wantonly, thrilling to the look of pleasure on this face. "Uh, fuckin' wreck me;" she gasped, feeling another massive climax building inside her. "Make me cum on that beautiful cock, Santa!" "I'll take 'Things Virginia Never Thought She'd Ever Hear Herself Say' for a thousand, Alex!" he laughed. He reached down and took her ass her hands and pulled her closer, smiling warmly yet wickedly into her eyes as she sank further onto his cock, which penetrated her to the deepest depths yet. She could feel the head pressing against her womb. It didn't hurt, but she felt fuller and more stretched than ever. She felt him squeeze her ass cheeks while he thrust into her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on tight, bumping up and down on his powerful thighs. She moaned loudly and bit his shoulder, trying not to shriek. She tried to squeeze herself around him again, finding that she could barely control her muscles, let alone fuck. She bit down as the warmth spread through her, tears of pleasure in her eyes. He thumped his hips against her even more strongly and they strained against one another. Then he growled and released himself, pumping her once again full of his tingling cum. She shuddered and cried out loudly, her head spinning from the unreal ecstasy. Crushing herself to him, Ginny held on desperately, like a ship battered by an unrelenting storm. They both slumped onto the couch, breathing heavily. She felt small and almost cocooned in his embrace. She was covered in a heavy sheen of sweat and could feel the thrilling tingle of his cum trickling out of her cunt. It wouldn't be a stain on her couch, it was a mark of honor. Their hearts pounded in rhythm as the orgasm passed over them and slowly flowed away. "Holy shit;" she whispered, her body still limp in his arms. "I think you've ruined me for sex. I should be mad;" "You have to admit, it makes sense that I'm better at gift-giving than anyone else on the planet." Santa reasoned, smiling and stroking her hair while she sat in his lap. "I'd say you were a little pent up there." "Mild understatement," she moaned, finally raising her head and smiling up at him. "Thank you, first of all. That was the best thing I've ever felt in my life." "I aim to please," he said cheerfully, caressing his thumb across her cheek and enjoying the shining look in her eyes. "Kinda my thing, after all." "So," Ginny purred, walking to fingers up his broad chest. "Is there a Mrs. Claus?" He shrugged. "There has been, of course." She paused suddenly and looked up at him, her smile replaced by a deadpan look. "What do you mean, there has been?" He seemed somewhat confused by her change in demeanor. "Well, there has been a few in the past, of course, there was Seeki first, then there was Ahoop, followed by Annalina, then Layla, Martha, Juliana, Gretchen and Jessica, Santarina, Kasey, Mary;" "I see," she said stonily. "You've had more wives than Elizabeth Taylor had husbands." "Well, to be fair, they've been spread over a long period of time." Santa replied. "And they were all special to me." "So then I'm not special." Ginny said flatly. "Well of course you are," he said, not understanding her mood swing. "You're my Virginia." "And Becky down the street is your Becky, and Sarah in the blue house is your Sarah and Hilda in Dusseldorf is your Hilda," she concluded. "Everyone's equally special to you, aren't they?" He didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, I'm not being fair," she sighed. "I just; well, I thought maybe this; ya know, tonight, was truly special. And clearly you're not good at lying." "Well, no, not at all." Santa agreed, still holding her and wondering how he could comfort her. "I can't lie." "Like, literally can't?" she asked, now curious more than anything. "It's part of your genetic makeup that you can't lie?" "No, nothing like that," he admitted. "But after spending centuries with kids and teaching them to always tell the truth, I haven't tried telling a lie in so long I don't even know how to do it." "You don't know how to lie?" she mused. "If I did, it wouldn't be the least bit believable," he said. "Like, if I said right now that your breath smells wonderful and not like old eggnog and vomit, I somehow doubt you'd believe my lie." "No shit," Ginny replied, giving him a stony look. "You're a horrible liar. You've got the subtlety of a cement truck. Good thing you're Santa and don't have to date to charm a girl." He held her close, hugging her tight to comfort her. She sighed deeply, still impaled on his hard cock, which showed no sign of abating. "God, I can't believe you've still got wood after cumming like a fire hydrant three times," she said, her mood softening. She was having the best sex of her life, she reminded herself not to ruin it by being crazy. "How long can you keep going?" He shrugged his muscular shoulders. "How long do you need me to?" "Actually, it doesn't surprise me that's your answer." Ginny said, smirking. "If you've got the time, I've got another itch that needs scratching." He grinned. "So you haven't broken in that hot tub yet, have you?" "Oh, Santa;" she purred, leaning in and biting his earlobe. "Like you don't make me wet already." He picked her up and carried her toward the Jacuzzi, deftly turning it on with his foot and bringing it rumbling to life. He stepped down into the churning water, setting her one of the seats. As he stood up, she leaned forward and hungrily took his enormous cock into her mouth, sucking ardently. She moved forward and knelt in the water, her hands on his hips again or stroking his balls. He picked her up bodily and turned her upside. Ginny squeaked in surprise at first but found his hips in front of her and began sucking again on his tool without delay. He buried his face in her cunt, tongue snaking deep inside her and she groaned gutturally, Holding her in place with one powerful hand, her teased her taint and then pressed a finger into her ass. "Jesus!" she gasped, almost choking on his cock as he wormed the finger down into her tight tunnel. "Oh, fuck! Your finger is bigger than some dicks I've fucked!" She attacked his cock again eagerly, bobbing back and forth like her life depended on it. She squirmed in his grip as he lashed her cunt with his tongue and fingered her ass. Her fingernails dug into his thighs and her knees locked around his neck. His cock throbbed in her mouth, still thrilling her with its unique and incredible taste. He turned her around again and paid her on the edge of the hot tub, spreading her legs wide. She looked on wantonly as he pushed his tongue back inside her again. He gripped her thighs to hold her in place and she groaned and squirmed, squeezing her tits and pulling on her nipples. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he drove her to the limit of her sensations. Ginny shook and thrashed as she cried out loudly, cumming on his face. He didn't let up, lapping at her essence eagerly. She lay like a dead thing for several seconds before her chest began to rise and fall. Her eyes opened, gazing back at him. She couldn't feel her limbs, just floating on a tingling ocean of deep colors. Santa looked up at her and smiled, pulling his tongue out of her cunt and kissing her clit gently. She shivered at the touch. "One hole left, Santa," she breathed, her body glistening. "Got any left in you to perfect my Christmas?" "Always for you, Virginia." Santa said warmly, standing and raising her gently into a sitting position. He settled down into the water on one of the seats and then pulled her onto his lap, facing away from him. She moved her hips around until she found his rock-hard cock, waiting for her. She placed her puckered knot against it, giggling as she thought about what he was about to do to her. She took his shaft in her hand and held it steady while she sank down, very slowly. Ginny gasped and shivered as the head pushed aside the tight ring of muscle, popping inside her. Then she sighed as she lowered herself, feeling his massive cock stretching her tight tunnel wide. God, she felt so full it was unreal. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her ass cheeks pressed to his lap. He was all the way inside her ass and her held her closed as she settled back against him, purring in sensual pleasure. "Umm, it's never felt this good in my ass before," she said softly, her arms reaching back to curl around his neck. She gyrated slowly on his lap, moaning softly. "A gal could get used to this." His muscular arms wrapped around her and caressed Ginny's body, massaging her tits. She loved how she felt pinned to him. She had finally found the measure of her body and began to squeeze her tight ass around his cock. She squirmed in slow circles on his lap, wishing she had some music to fuck him to. Her stereo system suddenly came on and began playing 'It's Cold Outside'. She giggled and squeezed his neck gently at his thoughtfulness. "You think of everything, don't you?" she purred, lost in her pleasure. "I can't wait to make you cum again." He smiled wickedly and pulled gently on her nipples, causing her to groan at the welcome sting. She pressed her ass back into his lap, squeezing again around his throbbing shaft. The water bubbled and churned around her waist, the heat leaving her skin shining. She began to pant as she moved her hips faster, stopping the circular motions and started to move up and down, his cock sliding in and out of her. Santa took hold of her hips and let her bounce on his lap. Ginny leaned forward, gasping as she fondled her tits, overcome with a liquid heat as his cock impaled her faster and faster. Water splashed around them as the fucking took on an almost frantic pace. Ginny had never felt anything in her ass like this before, nothing even close to this good. She could very easily become an addict. "Uh, fuck!" she grunted, slamming her ass down on him while one hand snaked down and began massaging her cunt and clit. His hands steadied her and helped moved her up and down. She could feel his hips trembling beneath her, his fingers flexing and squeezing her skin. Her panting became a long, drawn-out keening. She clenched her teeth, shuddering and straining as she tried to prolong the fucking; Ginny screamed and pushed herself back against his massive chest violently, thrashing as she clenched his cock inside her ass while he came. His cream flooded inside her, the unreal hot-cool tingling transporting her. He growled in her ear, almost crushing her comparatively tiny frame against himself. She collapsed, utterly exhausted, her chest rising and falling as the world spun around her. She felt him holding her gently, caressing her body in unique ways that seemed to; regulate her blood flow and nerve sensations, making the post-orgasmic bliss she was feeling last as long as possible. She felt herself smile and hum at his consideration, understanding this this is who he was and what he was meant to do. Ginny then did something she almost never did during sex, she leaned her head back, pressed her lips to his and kissed him deeply and with great affection. She held it for as long as she could and then sank back into his embrace, sighing in contentment. "Wish you were advertising for a Mrs. Claus at the moment," she said softly. "I could get used to this." "I like things the way they are," he replied, hugging her. "Every year I get to reward you for being a good girl. What could be better than that?" "True, I guess," Ginny agreed. "I'm only human, all this sex could kill me." "Hey, I'm human too, you know," he chuckled. "Just because I'm immeasurably older than you and subject to quantum laws even my smartest elf couldn't explain doesn't mean I'm a member of some other species." "Okay, that's fair, although I'd still fuck you if you were an alien or some extra-dimensional being." Ginny admitted. "You've come in me a lot tonight, daddy. Do I need to” "No," he said cheerfully. "I'm not sterile, but you can't get pregnant unless I decide you will and I've never allowed it." "I wonder what a Santa kid would be like," she mused. "More like you or the mom?" "No idea," he confessed. "There's not exactly a manual, so I've never taken a chance." She slowly leaned forward and began to rise, shivering as she slid off his long cock and it popped out of her. She knelt and turned around to face him, not sure she could stand yet, looking up at his still hard cock and giggled, pressing her finger against the head. "Well, I think you can take him off duty, sir," she said sweetly. "I'm pretty sure that I'm all fucked out for the night, if not the whole season." He chuckled and let his cock soften, looking into her eyes and caressing his cheek. "Hopefully that was what you needed for Christmas." "Definitely, Santa." Ginny said, giggling. "Is it greedy to want the same present again next year?" "Not at all," he replied, grinning. "It cuts down on elf-labor hours if I can give people a gift mysteriously." Santa paused in speaking, going silent and looking around, as if listening for something. Neither of them touched the controls, but the motor for the jets turned off and all that could be heard was the howling roar of the winter storm outside. Ginny looked at him in confusion, wondering why his features hardened and a scowl crossed his normally jovial face. "That's no storm," he said in a low, growling voice. "Not a regular one, anyway." "What does that mean?" she asked, his reaction worrying her for reasons she couldn't readily explain. What the hell was a 'not regular' storm, according to Santa, or anyone else for that matter? He stood up and strode out of the hot tub, taking her by the hand and pulling her out with him. Their naked bodies glistened with water but this was the farthest thing from her mind. "What's going on?" she asked, his consternation beginning to frighten her now. She watched as he tossed her the robe she'd been wearing earlier and then started pulling on his pants and sturdy black boots. "It's just a winter storm! Isn't it?" "I wish that were true," he replied, his expression grim. "Listen to me very carefully, Virginia. I'll need you to follow me instructions precisely. Do you understand?" She nodded. "Okay, but” "Good," he said, cutting her off, his eyes flashing. "It's very important to your safety." "Can you at least tell me what's happening?" she pleaded. "Krampus." Santa muttered darkly as he wrapped bright red straps around his wrists, tightening them. "I should've been more careful." "What's Krampus?" she asked, going pale and she paused in putting on her robe, one of her tits hanging out. "Krampus isn't a what, Krampus is a who," he said, his eyes scanning the layout of her expansive living room. "He's also called Black Pete in some places and legend says he's supposed to be my evil henchman who punishes wicked children." "I take it that's not true, then?" she asked, looking around like he did, wondering what he was searching for. "Not even close," he growled. "Pardon my French, but Krampus is an evil sonofabitch. He was, at one time long ago, my dedicated helper, but he turned down the path of darkness, becoming twisted and diabolic. Forget punishing children, he wants to destroy Christmas, like it never happened." "What's that got to do with us here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Can he reach us in this storm?" "This storm is his doing, I recognize it now," Santa said, striding over to his huge Christmas bag and beginning to rummage in it. "A massive storm always precedes his arrival. It can be mistaken for a regular winter storm if you're not paying

Blizzard Revelations. Two best friends, stranded in a car, find fun ways to keep warm. Based on a post by LindseyLuv. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time. "Hey, Lindsey; you all set?" A tall, shaggy-haired fella came up from the basement guest bedroom, then strode the hallway, and called up the staircase to her 2nd story bedroom, from near the front door. Lindsey felt her stomach flutter once again. Jackson was actually back from college. In his hand, he carried a suitcase of his own, and a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. He smiled at her as she came down the big oak stairs, and she nodded. "Yep, Jack; just gotta grab my rucksack and lock up, and we're good to go!" She couldn't remember when the two of them had first met. Their parents had been close friends for years, before they'd even been born. So far as she cared, she'd known Jackson forever. They'd grown up together, referred to each other as cousins. The pair had been almost inseparable, all the way up to Jackson leaving for college. Worst yet, his parents had to move; when the corporation shut down the local factory, and his dad had to move in order to fill another management position, or face unemployment at age 51. Lindsey’s anxieties were mounting, until yesterday, when his flight arrived. She'd been absolutely heartbroken last August. to see him go. But he kept his promise, that he'd visit as soon as he came back for the holidays. Which sadly coincided with her own family’s reunion. Her parents insisted that she come with them, but she negotiated a compromise. Jackson would use her car to drive her, on his way to his own relative’s gathering. It just so happened the day he flew back was the day before her Great Aunt's get-together, so while her parents left yesterday morning, she hung around to pick him up at the airport. The plan was for him to stay over that night, then drive the two of them, to drop her at the reunion, seeing as it wasn't too far from his cousins' place. That way, he could drive to his kin, and see them too. Then two days later he’d pick Lindsey up from the reunion, and drive her back a few days later, if she didn't want to stay the whole week, like her folks. She'd nearly tackled him near the baggage claim, when she saw him run down the airport concourse. The pair had spent the evening laughing, eating, and reminiscing. Jackson had plenty of stories to tell her about his first semester at college, and Lindsey eagerly hung on his every word. When he’d finally gone down to the basement guest bedroom, it was well past midnight. She’d already fallen asleep while the two were watching an old favorite DVD title. He’s woke her up and directed her to go up and get some sleep. By the time they were up and about, the next day; they realized there was no way they were going to make it on time. It was getting on for noon when the snow started to fall; lightly covering the driveway as Lindsey dragged her suitcase out to Jackson's car. She knew they were only going away for a week, but she wanted to be prepared, especially with the weather as it was, so she'd filled her bags with as many jumpers, woolly hats, and thick comfy socks as she could. A decision she was starting to regret as she struggled to heave the bulging suitcase into the trunk of her little car. Finally cramming it into the space, she stepped back, taking a moment to breathe. All around her, the snow fell lazily through the air, getting heavier by the minute, and she wondered if it would ease off much, before the two of them left for her great aunt's. 'Oh well, at least it'll be a white Christmas...' she thought to herself, before turning back towards the open door of her house. She loved almost everything about Christmas, but the annual family reunion certainly wasn't on the list. She could count on one hand, how many of her relatives she actually liked, and even then she had plenty of fingers spare. In fact, the only person she really cared about visiting, had just been her house guest. But that visit was nearly over. Only the car ride remained. “Start the car, Jack." "Cool-cool, but hurry up, I don't like the look of this snow. We might end up stranded in a blizzard, if we're not careful; and you'll miss your fam." Jackson shot her a wink. "And I know how much you'd hate that." Giggling at his sarcasm, Linsey ran back into her house. She'd left her rucksack just inside the door, and she quickly grabbed it before locking up and running back down to the car. The snowfall had gotten pretty heavy by now, and she saw Jackson chuck his stuff onto the back seat before getting into the driver's side door, and revving the engine. Burying her face in her scarf to keep warm, Lindsey threw her rucksack in the back as well, before climbing into the passenger side seat next to him. Clicking her seatbelt into place, she turned and gave him a nod, and off the two went. Relaxing back into her seat, Lindsey watched the snowflakes fall as Jackson gently took the car out of the driveway and onto the almost pure white road. Rubbing her hands together in the frigid air, she reached out and cracked up the thermostat a little, before settling back again. It wasn't a particularly long drive, only a few hours, but she could already tell it was going to be a chilly one. The snow wasn't too much of a problem while they drove through the city, salt trucks leaving the roads mostly clear. As they got out into the countryside, Jackson started to take it slower, carefully navigating the narrow lanes as the snow continued to fall. Once or twice they saw the skid marks of cars that hadn't been quite as cautious, and at one point a tow truck passed them, pulling the unfortunate survivor of a nasty off-road skid. The first hour passed quickly. The thermostat did its job, and the car quickly armed up enough for Lindsey to drop her scarf and gloves. The two friends chattered away happily as the miles passed, and the music from the radio helped fill any lulls. However, as the sun began to set, the snowfall only got heavier and heavier. Lindsey could feel herself getting increasingly nervous, finding it harder and harder to see the passing countryside, and could only imagine how hard it must be for Jackson at the wheel. "Damn it;" the young man muttered under his breath, craning forward to peer out between the falling snowflakes. Lindsey could feel the stress radiating off of him, and did her best to stay calm. The last thing she wanted to do is panic him any more than he already was. Pretty soon though, they both realized they were going to have to stop. The snow was falling so heavily now that neither of them could see the road, let alone anything else. Lindsey felt her stomach drop as Jackson shook his head, pulling the car up onto the verge at the side of the road. "Sorry Linds, I can't keep going in this. If we're lucky it'll blow over soon, and we can get going again, but for the meantime, it's just not safe;" Lindsey looked up at him and saw the look of concern on his face. "You might wanna call your folks." Lindsey gave him a worries nod. She could feel her stomach tying itself up in knots as she pulled out her cell phone. They were a long way from anywhere, out there, and if they got stuck overnight it was going to get very, very cold. Dialing her parents, she anxiously waited for them to pick up. "Hey, Dad, it's me. Um, yeah, me and Jackson are on our way, but the snow is; it's coming down pretty hard, so we're just going to pull over for a bit. No need to worry about us, it's all good. We're just going to be a bit later than we thought, that's all. I'll call you when we start moving again. Yep, yep, we'll be safe, don't worry. I love you too. See you soon" The young woman hung up, hoping she didn't sound too scared on the phone. "Ok, what do we do now?" Jackson frowned as he looked down at the fuel indicator. It was getting a little low. "Well, I think we should turn the car off for now, so we don't waste gas until we can start moving again. I don't wanna think about what'd happen if we; you know. Other than that, we just gotta wait it out I guess." Shutting off the engine, Jackson settled back into his seat as snow began to pile onto the windshield. Immediately, the car began to get colder, and Lindsey shivered as she bundled herself up in her coat. Outside, she could hear the wind howling, and she looked over to her friend, hoping for comfort, but only saw herself faced with a worried expression. "It'll be fine, don't worry. We just; gotta wait. For a bit" His voice sounded shaky as he tried to reassure her. Surprisingly, it worked pretty well. For the next few hours, the two sat and talked to try and keep their minds off the weather. Occasionally, Jackson would flick on the wipers to clear the snow on the windscreen so they could check the state of the weather, but it never improved. If anything, it was still getting worse. An hour passed, then two, and it started to dawn on the pair that things probably weren't going to improve that evening. "Maybe; maybe we should settle in for the night;" Lindsey's voice trembled as she spoke, partly from the cold and partly out of fear. "I'm gonna call my dad again;" Jackson nodded, his hands inside his sleeves as she fished her phone out again. "Uh, hey Dad? It's me again. The, um, the snow's not easing off, so we're going too; yeah, yeah I know; We're going to stay here for the night, ok? And we'll drive the rest of the way tomorrow? Ok? Don't worry, we've got loads of clothes and blankets and things, we'll be fine. Yeah, yeah we'll be careful. I know. I love you too. Bye." Lindsey hung up and turned to her friend. "He's not happy, but he knows there's nothing we can do." She let out a long sigh, looking at the floor. "Sorry." "Hey, it's ok, don't; don't worry, you don't need to apologize." Looking back up through the tears, she saw Jackson smiling at her, and felt his hand on her shoulder. Despite the freezing weather, Lindsey felt a little shimmer of warmth move through her at his touch. "You can't help the weather, can you? And it's cool, at least I'm not stuck out here alone." Lindsey chuckled as she fought back her tears. She wiped her eyes and looked back over her shoulder at the back seat. "What are we going to do about sleeping?" Despite their heavy clothes, she could feel herself starting to shiver. Jackson looked thoughtful for a second, before replying. "I guess we'll have to share the back seat; It'll be cramped, but we don't have much choice. The seats up here don't really recline at all." Lindsey nodded her head. It wouldn't be the first time the two of them had slept so close together, but she had to admit, this was a bit different. After all, they'd been kids last time. Ah well, better to be warm than worry about nothing, she thought to herself. "Do we have blankets or anything?" Again, Jackson looked thoughtful. "We could get our clothes out of the trunk? We can pile them on top of us to keep warm." He gave her a nervous smile. "Not quite blankets, but I'm sure they'll do the job." Lindsey felt a little knot in her stomach but ignored it. She had to admit, it was a good idea, but something about Jackson seeing all her clothes spread out made her feel nervous. It took her a moment to realize why, but by the time she had he'd already disappeared out of the car, hurrying towards the trunk to retrieve their suitcases. Ignoring it, she climbed into the back seat, settling across them as she heard Jackson rifling through their belongings in the freezing wind. As soon as she found herself in the back of the car, the young woman realized a slight problem with the plan. The seats weren't very wide, and unless they wanted to sleep upright or in the foot well, the two friends would have to sleep pretty much on top of each other. She swallowed hard. This situation just kept getting weirder and weirder. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, the door to her left flew open, and a deluge of clothing poured across her. Caught off guard, the young woman yelped in surprise, eliciting a quick apology from her friend, stood in the doorway holding an empty suitcase. "Sorry, sorry, should've warned you!" Lindsey's yelp of surprise quickly turned to giggles of laughter. "Don't worry, just hurry up and get back inside before you freeze to death!" With a smile, Jackson nodded, throwing the suitcase back into the trunk before reaching down and grabbing a second. Hers. Lindsey felt the butterflies in her stomach again as he quickly unzipped it and emptied the contents over her again. She watched as her neatly folded laundry cascaded out of the bag, t-shirts and spare jeans tumbling into the foot well, along with, much to her dismay, all her underwear. Jackson didn't seem to notice, shaking the snow from his boots and quickly jumping in next to her. As he closed the door, shivering, she quickly grabbed a large fleece and threw it towards him. "Here, warm up a bit". Her friend smiled in appreciation, pulling the woolen jumper over himself. Lindsey looked around at the clothing carnage. She bit her lip. There was no way he wasn't going to see it all; pairs of silk panties and lace bras dotted the backseat, making her lingerie impossible to miss. Turning to her friend, she could feel her cheeks burning pink. "Uh, Jackson, do me a favor, could you just; ignore; the underwear?" Turning to look back at her, the young man looked confused, before his eyes scanned the seats and his own cheeks started to turn red. "Oh, uh; sorry, I; I didn't;" Lindsey couldn't help but chuckle. The flustered look on his face was adorable, and in that moment she couldn't think of anything but a lost puppy. She squeezed his arm under the layer of loose clothes. "Don't worry, you couldn't help it. It's my fault for packing everything into one suitcase!" The pair laughed nervously, before settling into silence. A few moments passed before Jackson piped up again. "So, uh, how're we; Ya know. Doing this?" The pair looked at the space between them. They both knew they couldn't fit next to each other, but neither person wanted to be the first to say it. Finally, Lindsey bit the bullet. "Do you wanna be on top or underneath?" She saw Jackson swallow heavily. "Uh, I'll go underneath, I guess? Don't want to crush you, after all." The young man chuckled, trying to defuse the awkwardness of the situation in the way he always did. Lindsey chuckled too. She had to admit, she hoped that would be the arrangement. After all, she was a lot smaller than he was. Shuffling towards the door to let him get comfortable, she replied: "After you then!" Taking off his boots, Jackson slid down onto the seats, piling the loose clothes up and over himself. Lindsey watched intently, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. Why was she so nervous? It wasn't like they were doing anything weird. Well, weirder than being stuck in the snow. It was Jackson, she'd known him forever! Shaking her head, she gave him a smile, before settling down too. Instinctively, his hands came up to meet her, guiding her down on top of him. Immediately, she felt the warmth of his body through their clothes, and she found herself nestling into her friend as they awkwardly tried to avoid eye contact. The young woman could hear her heartbeat in her ears, the red flush of embarrassment getting stronger by the second. Reaching around them, the two started pulling the clothes across themselves, tucking them into the gaps on either side to insulate them from the cold. Carefully, Lindsey did her best to push aside anything she'd rather he didn't see into the foot well, some of the more risqué items catching Jackson's eye before he pointedly looked away, cheeks red. Pretty soon, the two were almost completely covered, only their faces poking out of the mountain of fabric. Doing their best to ignore the awkwardness of the situation, the two settled down. Lying on her front, Lindsey could feel her chest pressed close to Jackson, her tits squished close to his beating heart, and no matter where she looked, their faces were so close she always felt like she was staring directly at him. Eventually, she piped up. "Should I, uh, should I roll over, onto my back? Or, is this ok? What's; what works for you?" She tried not to think too hard about his answer. "I'm happy like this, if you are. Or not. Whatever" Her cheeks felt like they could burst into flames at any moment. "I, uh,; I think this is fine" From underneath her, Jackson's voice rose, shaky with nerves, and she wondered if he was feeling just as out of sorts as she was. With a nod, she turned away, resting her head on his chest. Despite settling in to sleep, the young woman's mind was racing. What were they doing? This was crazy, what if someone saw them together? Bundled up like this, at the side of the road, under the clothes? What would they think? She swallowed. She knew exactly what they'd think. And with a start she realized that excited her. A long, awkward silence hung in the air. Lindsey did her best to ignore her racing thoughts and settle down to sleep. Despite the mountain of clothes, she found herself still shivering, and nuzzled deeper into Jackson for warmth. After a while, she glanced up to see snow covering the windows, cutting the pair of them off from the rest of the world. It was just her now. Her and Jackson. She felt a tingle ran down her spine. Well at least we don't have to worry about anyone looking in and getting the wrong idea, she thought to herself. Settling in, her mind started to wander. Trying not to think about Jackson, she found herself pondering the situation they found themselves in. What would happen if the sow hadn't cleared by the next morning? Would they need to call for help? What if it got even colder? A sudden memory passed through her head, of an old TV documentary about arctic explorers. She remembered that often, when trapped in cold climates, people would strip off and share body heat to keep themselves warm. Immediately, she felt her blush returning. Behind her, she felt Jackson's hands move lower down her back, to just above her ass, and she froze. A voice in the darkness, breathless, whispered. Uh, is this ok? My, uh, my arms were getting a little cramped;" Lindsey felt her breath catch in her throat. "Y-yeah, it's fine, don't worry." Instinctively, she shuffled her weight a bit, making it more comfortable for both of them. The two lay in silence for a bit longer, before Lindsey felt her own arms beginning to cramp, her hands on the seat taking most of her weight to keep it off Jackson. Readjusting, she let her body fall, and found her hands around his shoulders, holding him close. "Is that ok too?" She felt him nod underneath her and felt a sigh of relief escaped her lips. His soft voice filled the quiet again. "Sure. Don't worry about squishing me, you're; you're pretty light, you know;" The two chuckled and fell into silence again. Lindsey felt conflicted. She couldn't help but notice how firm his shoulders were, how warm and strong his arms around her felt. Soon, she found her mind wandering again, and quickly diverted her attention elsewhere. No, this was Jackson she was thinking about! She could never; could she? From under her, she felt Jackson shift, awkwardly, nervously, before speaking again. "Uh, hey Lindsey, are you; are you still cold?" Lindsey felt her heart beating like mad in her chest. "Y-yeah, a little. Actually." She thought about the arctic explorers again and bit her tongue. No, how could she even be thinking about that? But, if it kept them warmer; She didn't know what to do. On the one hand, she desperately wanted the warmth, on the other; "You know, um, one of the, I heard on tv once that, when people get stuck in the arctic they, uh; well;" Lindsey trailed off. Holy shit, what am I saying? Under her, she felt her best friend brace himself, unsure where she was going with this, and she bit her tongue again. Can't go back now... "Body heat gets kinda; you know; trapped by the, uh; by clothes; So they, uh; yeah" She couldn't bring herself to say it, the words kept getting caught in her mouth. A long pause sat frozen in the air. "So; should we?" "Y-yeah. Yeah, I; I heard the same thing. So; yeah. I think we should. You know; get, uh;" Jackson's voice trailed off, before returning with his trademark humor, although she could tell from his voice how painfully nervous he was. Just like her. "Besides, it's already pretty awkward, right? What's the harm? It's not like we've never seen each other naked before;" Even so, that was a long time ago, and they'd both changed a lot since then. Still, Lindsey couldn't deny the truth in Jackson words. With a breathless nod, she sat up, and the two friends began to undress. The young woman tried not to look as Jackson first stripped off his t-shirt, followed by his shorts. He paused, hands on the waistband of his boxers, and turned to her, still averting his gaze. "Uh, should we; I mean, we could keep our underwear on; But... "Yeah;" Lindsey's own breathless voice joined his. "I; I'm sure it; uh, it'll work better if there's nothing blocking the body heat; right?" "Yeah, yeah, I think so too;" As Jackson reached down and pulled off his underwear, Lindsey averted her eyes again. She couldn't deny that part of her wanted to see him, stripped naked before her, but she did her best to ignore it. "Just; promise not to look, ok?" Jackson nodded. Staring pointedly at the roof of the car, Lindsey swallowed nervously before unbuttoning her shirt, letting it fall into the foot well as she fiddled with the zipper of her jeans. Down to her underwear, she could feel the bitter cold attacking her bare skin, and the desire to get back under cover overpowered her nerves. Fiddling behind her back with numbing fingers, she struggled to unhook her bra, and when she finally did she let out a yelp of surprise as the fabric slipped from her hand, sending the item straight down onto Jackson's face. A frozen moment hung in the air, before the pair started laughing. Settling back down, Lindsey, reached down and slipped off her panties, the momentum of the moment carrying her forward before she could second guess herself. Hurriedly dragging the mountain of fabric back over themselves, the pair did their best to ignore the feeling of the other person's naked body, pressed so close to their own. But soon they were snuggled down again, and Lindsey couldn't deny the way her bare tits felt pressed against Jackson's chest, her nipples stiffened by the cold and unmistakable against his skin. If she'd felt strange before, it was nothing to how she felt now. In the dark, she could feel her cheeks burning bright red, and she desperately hoped Jackson couldn't see. Between them, her heartbeat pounded in her chest, mixing with Jackson's as the two childhood friends held onto each other, already feeling warmer. She could barely breathe as she slid her arms back over his shoulders, feeling his hands take hold on her waist once again. Even though they'd held each other this way only moments before, without their clothes it felt so much more intimate, and Lindsey, could feel the butterflies in her stomach reaching a fever pitch. Between my legs, she felt a tingling in her loins, and she bit her lip hard in an attempt to calm herself down. Truth be told, she'd never seen a man naked before; she'd never had a boyfriend stick around long enough to get that far. Underneath her, pressed against her thigh, she could feel something hard, and it took her a moment to realize what it was. Concealing a gasp, the young woman. Is that; it can't be? But then, what else could it be? Lindsey realized it could be only one thing; Jackson's penis! Underneath her, she felt her best friend shuffle uncomfortably, and his half-erect cock pressed against her thigh, only inches from her virgin pussy. Lindsey felt a thrill of excitement ripple through her, but she repressed it. She didn't know what to think. Did he; Like her? How long had he felt that way? Was he; thinking about her now? She knew that last part had to be true. After all, she was thinking about him, and it had to be hard to think of anything else with a naked girl pressed on top of you. She couldn't believe this was happening, could never have believed it would happen. Part of her leapt for joy, but the rest of her was just as confused as ever. Should she say something? Try to take it further? Settling her head down onto his chest, she whispered out to him in the dark. "We should; we should sleep." "Yeah; Sleep;" Underneath her, she felt his cock twitch, still pressed against her soft thigh. Despite her words, she knew she couldn't sleep like this. A minute passed. Then another. Soon, an hour had gone by, and Lindsey was still awake, staring silently at the back of the chairs in front. The two lay together, perfectly still, until a voice broke the silence. "Lindsey; Are you still awake?" The young woman froe. She didn't know whether to speak up, or stay silent. Underneath her, she could still feel his hard cock, throbbing against her leg, and how hot it was making her feel. Between her thighs, she could feel how damp her pussy had gotten, and she squeezed them tightly together in an attempt to relieve the pressure. It didn't work. A long moment passed, and she didn't hear anything else from him. She wondered if she should've spoken up, should've said something, should've confessed how she felt, and she was seconds away from opening her mouth when a sudden movement made her pause. Behind her, she felt the grip on her back tighten, and the hips underneath her shift, just enough for the hard shaft pressed against her leg to slip between her thighs. She felt like her heart was about to burst out of her mouth. The thick rod felt even hotter squeezed between her legs, the head ever so slightly damp against her skin. It felt; nice. Really nice. Then she felt him start to move. Lindsey had to bite her lip to stop herself moaning as between her legs, Jackson began to thrust, sliding his cock against her, as the pressure of her legs kept him upright and rock solid. Her heart stopped in her chest as she felt him moving. Oh my god. Oh my god, he's really doing it! Her brain went into overdrive, trying to make sense of what was happening as she felt his cock thrusting slowly, softly, between her thighs. She knew she had to say something, but she had no idea what, especially not now. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop. So, in a mixture of fear and excitement, she lay still, and silent. Her pussy was absolutely soaked. Her pelvis felt hot, incredibly hot, and she had to bite her lip to stop herself moaning in pleasure, the simple act of his thrusts sending her body into a state of near-ecstasy. God, she wanted him. Wanted to feel him inside her, taking her, taking her virginity and making her a woman. Words couldn't describe how badly she wanted Jackson to toss her onto her back, clamp her mouth shut, and pound himself into her till she came. She lay still for what felt like an eternity, just waiting for him to take it further, to force himself into her, before the pressure became too great, and she began moving her hips back in time with his. Slowly, gently, she raised them up as he pulled back, and let them fall down as he pushed up. Not by much, no more than an inch, but it was enough to make her pussy gush with anticipation. Underneath her, Jackson let out a groan and started to buck his hips faster. He must think I'm asleep, she thought to herself. Should I? Maybe I should tell him; But despite her thoughts, Lindsey did nothing. She felt his hands move down her body, across the small of her back to her ass, giving it a soft squeeze as he continued to fuck her thighs. His thrusts started to get longer, driving further up and down, and soon she felt his shaft pressed against her nether lips. The feeling of him so close to her virgin entrance was just too much, and Lindsey let out an involuntary mewl of arousal. Immediately, Jackson's movements stopped, and the young woman bit her lip. Damn it! Don't stop now! From the darkness, she heard a voice, shaking with nervousness. "Lindsey? A-are you awake?" "Don't stop;" was all she managed to say. The lust in her voice surprised even her, the shaky, drawn-out vowels and underlying moan sending ripples through both of them. Immediately, she felt Jackson's hands tense up, squeezing her ass, before his hips started to move again. The girl shut her eyes tight, still moving her hips, drawing him closer to her virgin entrance. She couldn't deny it anymore; she wanted him inside her, want him to make love to her, right there, on the backseat of his car! She loved him, deeply, desperately, and she'd do anything to take things further. "Please; Jackson;" "Yeah?" The young man's voice was as breathless as hers., the tip of his cock pressed firmly against her slit, his hips grinding up and down, grinding against hers, making her whole body shiver with arousal. "I want you to; to fuck me; please; I can't take it anymore!" Without a word, she felt him grab her hips firmly, and press himself against her entrance. Even if she'd wanted to, it was too late to turn back now. With a firm push on the small of her back, he raised his hips, and Lindsey cried out as she felt his cock sink into her virgin snatch, piercing her hymen and burying itself in her to the hilt. Slowly, she turned her head to look at Jackson, a look of absolute pleasure plastered on her features. She stared down for a long, silent moment, mouth hanging open and eyes wide, adjusting to the feeling of penetration, before reaching out and cupping his face, her best friend-turned-lover, and kissing him deeply. Between them, she could feel her walls relaxing around his girth, expanding to fit his thick member, and growing braver she began to over her hips once more, rolling them softly and mewling into his mouth as the two began to make love. Her movements were jerky and clumsy, but as she stared into Jackson's eyes, she could think of nothing but the love she felt for him. Holding on tight, she started to ride him fast, lifting her hips and letting them drop down again, feeling his firm shaft slide in and out of her sopping snatch. In response, Jackson began to move his hips too, thrusting up to meet her, pushing himself deep into his childhood friend before withdrawing. It took a while for the pair to find their rhythm, but soon they were fucking like crazy. Lindsey moaned loudly until Jackson pulled her head back towards him, pressing his lips to hers and kissing her more passionately than ever. As his cock sank into her over and over again, his tongue slipped into her mouth, tangling with hers as he took her virginity. She didn't know if he was still a virgin, but she honestly didn't care. "I wanted this for so long, Lindsey. Wanted you. I love you" "I, I love you too; I've l loved you; for years!" Lindsey's high-pitched voice mingled with her moans. "I'm sorry I pre; pretended to b-be asleep!" Her pussy was on fire, the sex felt better than anything she'd ever experienced before, and as she confessed her feelings for her best friend her movements only get faster, more desperate, pumping her hips as hard as she could while underneath her Jackson bucked and groaned. "I wanted to s-see how far you'd go; whether you.. wanted me too; I'm s-sorry;" She shut her eyes tight in shame, keeping her hips moving as best as she could. Just then, she felt Jackson grab her tight, and flip her onto her back, rolling on top of her and quickly forcing his cock back into her quivering pussy. Lindsey squealed, the sudden change of position exhilarating her, and she grabbed hold of his back as Jackson growled, pounding into her with a fury she'd never seen from him before. Legs up in the air, dangling uselessly, the young woman cried out in pain and pleasure as her lover buried his face in her neck, kissing and biting her as he fucked her mercilessly. Underneath her, she felt his hand still groping at her ass, and as he drove his cock into the deepest parts of your aching pussy, she could only moan and mewl. With his cock thrusting deeply in and out of her, she was helpless to do anything but shake your hips back up in time, squealing and moaning in erotic ecstasy. In the heat of the moment, she barely registered her legs, wrapping around him, keeping him deep inside her as she clung on to his back for dear life, panting and moaning like a bitch in heat. Inside her, she could feel the first sparks of climax beginning to ignite, and she cried out into Jackson's ear as he dominated her, the man of her dreams, her childhood best friend. "Yes! Fuck me, fuck me, Jackson! I love you, I love you so much! Fuck me!" Above her, she felt his pace start to falter, and she wrapped herself even tighter around him. Completely lost in the pleasure, his face buried in her neck as she hung on tight to his shoulders, she knew he must be getting close too. Each deep thrust sent new waves through her, and with each passing second, she felt her climax rising. "Yes! Yes! Yes, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, I’m gonna!" With a sudden cry, she felt herself crash over the edge, her whole body spasming as a wave of incredible pleasure washed over her, dulling her senses as she began to cum. She let out a shriek of ecstasy as her lower body began to rock and shudder, squeezing her pussy around her lover's cock as she came. The ripples of pleasure exploded throughout her entire body, sending her muscles spasming and her legs shaking around his waist. She felt her back arching painfully as her body, wracked with pleasure, crashed through her climax, her entire being seized by spasms as the walls of her pussy quivered and contracted. Through the chaos of her climax, she was dimly aware of Jackson fighting against his own orgasm, trying to pull himself out before he blew his load inside her, but her legs wrapped so tightly around him kept him buried inside. Digging her nails into his back, she wailed out through her orgasm "Cum in me! Cum in me! Do it, please!" Finally, she felt his hips slam forward one last time, his cock pushed deep, deep inside her, as the warmth of his cum began to spread throughout her abdomen. The feeling of being cream-pied only made her cum harder, and a second wave of spasms crashed across her. By the time the two of them were finished, Jackson was well and truly spent, his balls thoroughly emptied into Lindsey's tight teen twat. As their orgasms subsided, he collapsed on top of her, panting as his semen pooled inside her pussy. "Wow;" Lindsey lay beneath him, unable to speak, just panting happily with a smile on her lips. She pulled him in close so she could kiss him again, before wrapping her arms around him, holding him in a tight embrace. "Yeah; What a way to stay warm;" Jackson chuckled at that. "You; you really wanted me for that long?" Lindsey nodded. "For as long as I can remember;" She felt him sigh, and she giggled as he ruffled her hair. "God, I love you Linds;" "I love you too;" leaning up, she planted a kiss on his cheek. Words could describe how happy she was. No, not happy, overjoyed. "You know; something tells me the snows not gonna let up anytime soon;" She gave him a wink. "And there's a lot of other stuff I've always wanted to try. Jackson laughed again, nuzzling back into her neck as he kissed her, his skin hot against hers. As he moved, his softening cock slipped free of her pussy, followed by a thin trail of semen, which ran out of her and began pooling on the car seat below. Lindsey smiled. "You came inside;" She didn't sound angry, or surprised, just; content "Yeah, I guess I did; Not that I had much choice, the way you were clinging to me." He nibbled her ear softly before whispering into it. "But I really liked it;" Lindsey let out a contented mewl. "Me too, it felt amazing;" I giggle softly, and snuggle closer "But something tells me I should start taking birth control from now on. You wouldn't want to fuck a baby into your best friend, now would you?" She laughed again, feeling his cock stiffen underneath her in response. "So, you ready for round two?" Based on a post by LindseyLuv, for Literotica.

Bridge Engineering: Part 3 Settling In For A Long Winter’s Nap. Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. We all said our goodnights, then Stefani and I made our way back up the stairs. I closed the door to the basement and motioned for her to wait for a moment. I reached up to a nearby shelf and very carefully removed an old set of sleigh bells, which I silently hung on the doorknob as an early warning system. Stefani whispered, "Someone has been doing some serious planning." I quietly replied, "Yes, someone has. Is it working?" She answered by wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into our first slow, introductory kiss. Our lips separated briefly, we looked silently into each other's eyes for a moment, then our heads instinctively tilted and our lips came back together with a deeper, more confident kiss. One kiss blurred into two, then three, and continued until one was indistinguishable from the next. Our mouths opened wider and wider, yearning to feel the other partner's passion, before our tongues began a frantic dance between her mouth and mine. My hands began exploring the soft curves of her lower back, just above where the satin dress flared outward over her hips, and her long fingers ran through my hair as her hands eagerly pulled me into our hungry kisses. I lost all sense of time as we finally broke the passionate tension that had been building between us over the past months. I hadn't realized how much I missed an emotional and physical connection with a special someone, and I knew she felt the same. Our faces were both flush with passion and gasping for breath when I reluctantly pulled away from our moment. Without saying anything, I gently kissed her one more time, took her hand in mine, and led her toward the loft stairs. Stefani understood my intentions and acknowledged her consent with a beaming smile and by clutching my arm close to her body as we walked up the stairs. As we reached the top of the stairs, I motioned toward my bedroom door where a branch of mistletoe hung in the threshold. Stefani saw it and quickly moved to position herself as a gatekeeper in the doorway, saying, "I'm glad you took my advice." I responded by taking her in my arms and resuming the passionate kissing and interplay of our tongues that had begun downstairs. Stefani draped her arms around my neck and pressed her body against mine as my hands slid down her back to feel the satin covered swells of her ass. With our continued intimate contact, my cock responded and began to expand downward inside my pant leg, sandwiched against Stefani's pelvis as it grew. In her own expression of arousal, she extended one leg out from the full length slit in her skirt and wrapped it around the back of my thighs, intentionally pressing her skirt covered mound firmly against my restrained tool. Our mouths frantically struggled to find new depths and my hands cupped her ass as she began urgently grinding herself against my cock. The fervor was only broken when we began to lose balance and Stefani returned to standing on both feet. We both took the opportunity to occupy our hands in other ways, hers sliding between us to grasp at my cock and to unsuccessfully pull at my belt, and mine fumbling to release the back closure on her dress. Admitting defeat, we both paused and I moved behind her to take a different approach. My hand brushed her silken curls aside as I placed soft kisses down the side of her neck and slowly loosened a series of clasps on the back of her dress. She uttered soft moans of pleasure as my lips explored her nape then concentrated on areas that drew the most response. As I continued to expose more of her sensual back with the release of each fastener, Stefani crossed one arm over her bosom to hold the dress in place and reached behind herself with the other to caress the engorged flesh straining within the stretched fabric of my slacks. When I finished the last of the clasps, she removed her hand from my cock and used it to push me backward onto the edge of the bed. I sat in rapt attention as she took a couple steps away from me and, with her back turned, stepped out of her heels to reveal neatly manicured toes with nails painted to complement the color of her dress. Now with bare feet, she turned to face me, still holding the dress with one arm crossed over her tits. Her eyes erotically connected with mine as her hands slowly slid the dress downward, seductively unveiling bit by bit of her amazing body. First were her braless tits, pear-shaped handfuls with the slight sag of an early-thirties mother and topped with aroused gumdrop size nipples on proportionately sized areola. With my attentive eyes and childlike smile suggesting approval, the maroon satin curtain continued descending to uncover a slender torso with modestly toned abs and a cute concave belly button. Once her hands reached the top flare of her hips, Stefani released the dress and let gravity pool it at her feet. Her flat stomach and thin waist gave way to supple curves of womanly hips, which then tapered back to meet her long legs. The toned muscles gracefully ebbed and flowed, punctuated by lean knees and petite ankles, all proportionate to the scale of her tall, trim frame. Stefani was a vision, standing before me in nothing but a pair of black satin panties consisting of a small triangle over her sex and thin ribbons of fabric extending outward over subtly visible hip bones. I quickly shed my sport coat and shoes and began opening the buttons down the front of my dress shirt as Stefani did a slow turn and playfully wiggled her amazing heart-shaped ass. I tore my gaze from her body and looked her lustfully in the eyes as she completed her turn, "Wow, you are absolutely incredible!" My shirt was completely unbuttoned and my full-mast erection strained obscenely against the front of my dress pants. I pulled the shirt tails out from under my waistband and started to unbuckle my belt, but Stefani interceded, "Please, let me." I dropped my hands to my sides as she closed the few steps between us and bent forward to kiss me as I sat on the edge of the bed. We shared a few short kisses before she placed her hands on my chest and gently pushed my torso back on the bed. I propped myself on my elbows as she began trailing kisses down the center of my chest and deftly pulled my belt free of its buckle while opening my slacks. By the time her kisses reached my waist, she was on her knees before me and nuzzled her face against my boxer short covered rod and began kissing along its fabric covered length. The eroticism of the sight and the feel of her warm breath would have easily put me over the edge had I not done everything in my power to hold back. Sensing my edging, Stefani relented her touch and curled her slender fingers under the waistband of my slacks and boxers. I lifted my hips to assist while she pulled the waistband toward herself and carefully lifted it over my straining bulge. Her eyes fixated on the vertical tower that sprung upward as soon as it was free of its prison, and continued staring as she pushed the unwanted clothing down my legs. Once she had my pants fully removed, she slowly slid her hands along the top of my legs while she placed a line of kisses up my right inner thigh. She made one last kiss right next to the base of my cock then nuzzled her face against it and cooed soft hums of contentment. Meanwhile, her right hand took a moment to caress my pelvic area before her long, slender fingers encircled my shaft and began to explore its girth and length. After a few moments, Stefani pulled her head away from me enough to visually inspect every detail of my cock as her hand slowly stroked up-and-down and moved it from side-to-side, exploring its network of veiny ridges and large swollen mushroom cap. Her attention resulted in a bead of clear pre-cum pooling on my tip, which she leaned forward and licked away before it dripped downward. With her visual inspection seemingly complete, Stefani continued to slowly stroke my cock while she moved her head downward and used her tongue to caress my loose hanging, neatly shaven balls and then envelope one of the globes fully in her warm mouth. At this point, the previous single bead of pre-cum gave way to a steady stream trailing down the side of my shaft and over the back of her hand. After giving both orbs equal treatment, her tongue followed my trail of precum over the back of her hand and up my throbbing shaft to its source. She looked me deeply in the eyes as she slowly took my engorged head into her mouth and swirled her tongue around its rim. I held the approaching orgasm at bay by brushing her curly locks aside and placing my hands on the sides of her cheeks to gently guide her off my cock. I continued guiding her up to me where she put a leg on each side of my hips to straddle over me. I pulled her face down to mine and kissed her with passionate urgency as her naked chest pressed against mine and my still leaking cock sandwiched between my stomach and hers. As we kissed, she shifted her position upward so her panty covered sex rested on my shaft and then began to slowly rockng her hips, using my cock to work the fabric into her moist folds. My hands instinctively cupped her ass and reinforced her grinding motions. Kissing tapered off as our breathing became heavier and Stefani raised her torso off my chest to find a slightly different position on my cock. We continued to look into each other's eyes as my hands left her ass to explore the alluring tits hanging above me, seductively swaying in time with her motions. I held them for the very first time, massaging and gently squeezing the milky masses while her erect, gumdrop size nipples punctuated my palms. Her heavy breathing was interrupted when my fingers playfully pinched at the swollen nubs, so I took that as encouragement to lift my head and give them some oral stimulation. My mouth covered one, then the other, swirling my tongue and suckling as Stefani increased the speed and force of her hip movements. Realizing the pressure once again building in my balls, I swiftly rolled our semi-conjoined bodies and reversed our positions, with Stefani now on her back and me sliding off the edge of the bed to kneel between her legs. She raised her hips as I grasped and pulled the thin satin ribbons from her hips. They slid toward me and the sodden triangle of fabric reluctantly separated from her wet folds to reveal a small, neatly trimmed patch of hair immediately above glistening and rosy pink gateway petals. They were naturally opened wide to display her well-lubricated inner flesh and partially cloaked love-button. With her panties fully removed, I gently opened her knees and started to lean forward. Stefani understood my intent, bent her legs upward, and opened them widely to allow me full access. Like she had done to me earlier, my lips left a line of kisses up her inner thigh as my nose inhaled her intoxicating scent. Having reached my destination, I gently licked the outer lips on each side of her opening before sucking each into my mouth and giving equal treatment. Stefani's hands had found my head and were offering reassuring encouragement to continue the oral pleasures. My hands also wandered, alternating between holding her hips and kneading her tits as my tongue's attention became more fervent. I moved from her labia to firmly lick the length of her central opening, gently brushing over the top of her clit. Stefani responded by tensing her legs and clenching my hair in her hands. I returned down to cover the core of her sex with my mouth and swirl my tongue around the entrance to her tunnel. Stefani moaned and continued pulling at my hair as I very slowly moved my attention upward. Eventually, my mouth centered over her pearl and the tip of my tongue tenderly circled around it, before firmly pressing against it. She moaned loudly and every muscle in her body tightened as I changed from licking to sucking on her button. I was rewarded with a flood of her cordials and a long series of rhythmic contractions. I gave her outer petals a few more gentle licks and caressed her flat stomach with my hands while she recovered from the height of her pleasure. When she returned to consciousness, she breathlessly whispered, "Come here." and motioned me toward her. I stood from kneeling at the edge of the bed and climbed between her still splayed legs to hold myself over her. Stefani quietly said, "Thank you. You have no idea how amazing that was; how amazing it is to be here with you." as she tenderly wiped her juices from my cheeks and mouth. I responded, "It's been an amazing couple of months. I haven't felt this way about someone since;” I was speaking from my heart without the filter of my head when I realized the inappropriateness of what I was about to say, and adjusted my statement to, "; well, for a very long time." Stefani looked me lovingly in the eyes, cupped my cheek with her hand, and said, "It's okay to talk about her. Julie is still part of you and always should be. I know how much you love her and it means a lot that you would even mention me in the same breath." I leaned down with an appreciative kiss as I held myself over her. One kiss led to another, then to another and another, until our tongues were tangled and our mouths continually joined. We made out with renewed urgency and Stefani reached between our bodies to wrap her hand around my still steely rod. She broke our kissing long enough to beg, "Please, I need you inside me." Our kissing resumed as she guided my cock toward her opening and rubbed its engorged glans up and down her slit several times before removing her hand. Her arms encircled my neck as we kissed and I shifted my hips to seat the tip of my cock firmly against her gateway. Stefani moaned into my mouth when she felt the pressure, and tightened her arms around my neck when the head slowly pushed through her stretched but slippery opening. I cautiously rocked my hips, pausing frequently and allowing her passageway muscles to relax around my rigid cock. She urged me to continue by mumbling into our locked mouths, "More; more; more;” I applied a little more pressure with each motion of my hips and her body slowly welcomed me deeper and deeper. Signaling she wanted more, Stefani wrapped her long legs around me, interlocking her ankles behind my ass and flexing her legs to draw me further inside. With confidence that Stefani was wanting more, I broke our kissing and took her hands in mine, pinning them above her head as I held my body above hers. She seemed excited for me to take control and relaxed her legs while still keeping her ankles interlocked behind me. I began increasing the speed and force of my thrusts, eliciting yelps of pleasure as my cock explored new depths. The bed shook with our quick motions, as did Stefani's curly tresses and motherly tits. The expressions of pleasure on her face were incredibly erotic and I changed to longer, slower strokes to delay my pending orgasm and prolong our pleasure. She understood what I was doing and agreeably pleaded, "Kiss me." I did, and we made love with our mouths while she reinforced my long, slow, intentional pelvic motions with her legs wrapped around me. That tender moment was emblematic of everything we both wanted and needed. There was an unspoken connection between our souls, bridging our broken pasts and forever joining us into the future. Our bodies responded physically to the emotional and spiritual joining. Stefani's by weeping in happiness through a long, rolling orgasm; and mine by releasing eight years' worth of pent-up passion deep into her womb. Completely consumed by the intensity of the experience, Stefani rolled with me as I collapsed beside her on the bed, our legs still intertwined and my cock slowly softening inside her residual contractions. I looked knowingly into her tearful eyes and said softly, but with conviction, "I love you." Stefani pressed her forehead and sniffling nose into my neck and replied, "I love you, too; even more than I thought I did before tonight." We laid silently in each other's arms, exchanging occasional pecks of affection, until my flaccid cock slipped from Stefani's sex followed by a flood of our combined juices. She quickly cupped her hand to her crotch and scurried to the ensuite bathroom. While she was in there, I quickly slipped on my boxer shorts, opened the bedroom door, and stepped out into the loft to check on the girls. The house was silent and the sleigh bells on the basement doorknob appeared undisturbed. Satisfied all was well, I was walking back in the bedroom and was closing the door when Stefani emerged from the bathroom, still naked, and proclaimed in a hushed voice, "David! I've never been so full of cum in my life!" I shrugged my shoulders as I approached her saying, "You're the one that turned me on so much." then pulled her into a passionate embrace and kiss. She returned my kiss then pulled away saying, "I think I would like some more." as she pulled down my boxer shorts and dropped to her knees in one swift motion. She engulfed my limp cock into her warm mouth and massaged it with her tongue until it began to swell. One hand massaged my balls while the other cupped my ass cheek and pulled me into her ministrations. Once I had a hint of rigidity, she began bobbing her head and applying suction to further draw out my length. Working my cock in and out of her mouth, she made sure the sensitive underside of my glans remained in full contact with her tongue. It didn't take long for me to reach a full, raging erection. Sensing that with her mouth, Stefani confirmed with a couple quick strokes of her hand before standing and moving toward the bed. I watched in rapt attention as she climbed onto the center of the bed, positioned herself on her elbows and knees, and seductively wiggled her ass in the air. She looked at me over her shoulder with lust in her eyes and implored, "Take me!" I quickly climbed on the bed and positioned myself behind her. My hands playfully grabbed her hips and pulled her back into me, sandwiching my thickened shaft against her ass. She responded by wiggling her ass, which served to neatly seat my rod between her cheeks. I held her hips with my hands and rocked a few times to slide the underside of my cock against her cheeks. Having played around enough, I shifted backward on my knees and cupped a hand under her sex. I briefly caressed her inflamed and eager mound before dipping two fingers further into her very well lubricated slit. Stefani uttered encouraging moans as my fingers worked in and out of her dripping wet hole. Knowing we were both ready for the main event, I pulled my copiously coated hand from her mound and used it, along with the pre-cum already dripping from my tip, to spread lubrication along the length of my throbbing shaft. Stefani looked back at me as I held her hip with one hand and guided my cock toward her opening with the other. We both gave prolonged moans as our heightened arousal allowed me to penetrate her fully in one long push. Once inside her, she looked back at me and renewed her original request, "Take me!" And so I did. With my hands holding her hips and pulling her back against my pelvis with every stroke, I began lustfully pistoning in and out of her tunnel. She buried her face into the mattress and squealed with delight as I pounded into her roughly, causing her hanging pear-shaped tits to swing violently with my harsh pummeling. After a while, my hands moved to cradle the milky fruits and feel their rippling movements against my palms. As I became winded from the extended punishment I was giving Stefani, I used the supple handfuls to raise her torso toward me and aggressively kiss the nape of her neck as my cock momentarily slowed its assault. Stefani muttered unintelligible encouragements as her tunnel walls pleasured in the slowed movements of my veiny shaft and bulbous head erotically sliding in and out. In the course of my affection, her breathing quickened and became shallower as she ascended toward climax. Knowing she was close, I gave her sensitive nipples a quick squeeze, pushed her torso back down to the mattress, and grabbed her hips to resume my forceful penetrations. My lustful plunging quickly put Stefani over her summit and she emitted long moans of pleasure punctuated only by the impacts of my pelvis against her ass. Her body began quaking and, unable to support herself, crashed forward face down on the bed. My body followed hers downward and pinned her against the mattress as I gave a few more hard thrusts before pushing myself as far into her depths as possible, and releasing volley after volley of cum. Her walls sheathing my cock spasmed through a long drawn-out orgasm, milking every drop of seed from my cock. I held myself over her while our mutual orgasm slowly subsided. Not wanting to smother her with my weight, I rolled off to her side, leaving a strand of cum as my cock slipped from her warmth and dragged across her ass. Still laying on her stomach, Stefani turned her head and motioned me toward her for a series of lovingly soft post-coital kisses. She then repeated her earlier actions of cupping a hand to her crotch and making her way to the bathroom, to which I chuckled and she returned a playfully stern expression and wagging finger. I checked on the girls again while she was in the bathroom and then we both decided we should get a little sleep before they would be up for Christmas morning. Stefani set the alarm on her phone and we drifted off to sleep naked in each other's arms. Wake Up Call. I didn't hear the alarm, but Stefani did and apparently decided to give me a different type of wake-up call. I awoke to the feeling of wet warmth around my morning erection. I looked down to see a mass of dark curly hair slowly moving up and down over my midsection. I reached out and brushed aside her mane to see her looking up at me, the corners of her mouth smiling from around my cock. She briefly pulled it from her mouth and offered a cheery, "Good morning handsome." I replied, "Good morning beautiful." before she returned her attention to pleasuring me. She resumed slowly making oral love to my glans and moved one hand to massage my balls as she worked. After a while, she began to take more of my shaft with each downward motion until my engorged head began flirting with the entrance to her throat. She had no perceivable reflex to the contact and, on the following downstroke, wiggled her head a little to work my crown past the restriction. Once past the threshold, she took my full length, burying her nose firmly into my pelvis. She held herself there for several moments before pulling herself off my cock, then repeating the actions again and again. I had never experienced that feeling before and it didn't take long for me to be overcome by the pleasure. While buried deep in her throat, I urgently warned, "I'm going to cum! I'm going to cum!" Stefani strained to push her head down further and take in every possible millimeter of my cock before purposefully constricting her throat around the head of my cock. My hands grasped at her curly locks as I launched forceful jets of cum directly into her throat. After the first few ejections, she pulled back to remove my crown from her throat and to milk the remaining cum into her mouth with a rhythmic bobbing motion. She looked into my eyes as she swallowed my seed and continued fellating my organ until it softened in her mouth, then simply said, "Merry Christmas, David." Christmas Morning. I had started a fire in the great room fireplace after Stefani's morning gift and was faking blanket-covered sleep on the sofa when I heard little footsteps clamoring up the basement steps and bursting through the sleigh bell alarmed door. The girls scurried across the room in their new pajamas, taking the shortest route to the Christmas presents under the tree, and began eagerly exploring which packages were for whom. I pretended to be waking up and put on a show by pushing the blanket aside, stretching my arms in an exaggerated fashion as I sat upright, and saying, "Merry Christmas, girls!" Just then, I saw Stefani coming down the loft stairs and continuing the ruse by drearily rubbing her eyes and smoothing her disheveled curls. She had apparently gone shopping in my closet and was wearing one of my old t-shirts, which was long enough on her to almost completely cover a pair of my boxer shorts beneath. She echoed, "Merry Christmas everyone!" The girls distractedly replied, "Merry Christmas," as they continued sorting through gifts under the tree. Stefani sat down next to me on the sofa and folded one leg beneath her. After confirming the girls were not looking, I turned my head and gave Stefani a quick peck on the lips before suggesting, "Girls, do you want to pass out all the presents?" They excitedly responded, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" and enthusiastically went about checking tags and making stacks of presents where each recipient was seated. I reached over to take Stefani's hand in mine, our fingers interlaced, as we soaked in the holiday atmosphere. During their process, Toni and Lizzie independently delivered a package for either me or Stefani and noticed us holding hands. Interestingly, they both had similar reactions which amounted to hesitating for a moment, then going on about what they were doing as if us holding hands was expected and logical. Once the girls had all the gift bags and wrapped boxes distributed, we took the civilized approach of taking turns, each of us opening a present while the others looked on. Toni and Lizzie each received an assortment of clothes, girly trinkets, and a couple electronic items. Stefani and I were especially moved when the girls exchanged gifts they had personally selected for each other, then embraced in an extended hug. On my next turn opening a gift, I was genuinely touched when I unwrapped a shirt-box size package from Lizzie to find a small ceramic coin dish, hand-painted in red and green with speckles of gold glitter. Also in the box was an impressively detailed color pencil drawing of Lizzie, Toni, Stefani, and me all holding hands and standing on Lizzie's little bridge behind our house. Stefani and I reserved our presents to each other until all the others had been opened and the girls were happily playing with their new toys. We sat on the sofa watching them and shared occasional discreet touches of affection before exchanging our gifts. I'm sure we would have both selected different items had we known the deepening of our relationship that would occur on Christmas Eve, but they were still meaningful in a retrospective way. I opened an absolutely beautiful mechanical wristwatch with an ornately engraved metal band. As I was admiring its craftsmanship, I noticed the side of the clock face was inscribed with intricate script, "Thank you for being on-time. --Stefani" Knowing the deeper significance of those words in Stefani's painful past made my gift to her equally meaningful. I presented her a small box which she opened to reveal a delicate silver pendant necklace containing a marble-size translucent brown gemstone. Her slender fingers picked up a small printed card inside the jewelry box that read, "Legend of Apache Tears -- This gemstone native to Superior, Arizona bears the tears shed by Apache women after loss of their men defending the sacred homelands. For those who possess an Apache Tear, their emotional body will be cleansed of old traumas or wounds and they need not cry again, because the Apache women cried enough for the one who holds the stone." Stefani carefully placed the card back into the jewelry box and closed the case saying, "Thank you, but I think you are my real healer." I replied, "I know you are mine." and gave her a short but meaningful kiss. Our lips pulled away from each other to find the girls sitting on the floor by the Christmas tree, distracted from playing by the sight of us kissing. Stefani was quicker thinking than me and asked the intentionally leading question, "How would the two of you feel about the four of us spending more time together?" To my surprise, Lizzie put her toys aside, walked over to the sofa and gave Stefani a giant hug. She said something to Stefani while they hugged, but I couldn't make out the words. Toni followed Lizzie's lead and came over to give me a hug. Her face buried into my neck, she said with the honest wisdom of a child, "You make my mom happy." Not understanding the full significance of what had just occurred, Toni and Lizzie returned to playing while Stefani and I silently held hands and just enjoyed the moment. My mind drifted to recount the last couple months, and last 24 hours, as the fingers of my free hand idly twisted and twirled a small piece of wrapping paper. While Stefani and I had commonly tragic backgrounds that drew us together, that is not why I loved her. That was simply the key that opened our guarded doors and freed our real selves. I loved her for being the intelligent, quick-witted, caring, compassionate, and cheerful person I had come to know once she let me inside her world. When we were together, especially with Lizzie and Toni, we felt like a real family. There was genuine care and warmth. Lizzie's reaction to hug Stefani earlier surprised me, but it shouldn't have. I did the best I could to raise her, but I was still only one man. She didn't have a mother figure in her life and, looking back over the last couple months, I could see the special bond she was starting to form with Stefani. I vowed to myself right then that I would focus on doing the same with Toni. Her earlier statement of, "You make my mom happy." and the picture she drew of the four of us holding hands, told me she was clearly more astute to the situation than I was aware. My heart yearned for the impromptu family the four of us had started to become and, more importantly, it yearned for Stefani in a way I hadn't felt since Julie. I glanced down at my free hand and observed that my fidgeting fingers had unconsciously produced a little twisted rope circle from the scrap of wrapping paper. In that moment, I realized that my heart knew what it needed. The girls had moved their play downstairs while I was lost in my thoughts, and Stefani and I hadn't said anything in quite some time. She eventually broke the silence, and my distant stare, by asking, "Are you okay? What's wrong?" I responded, "Nothing is wrong. Absolutely nothing." before continuing with conviction, "I know this is going to sound impulsive, but I've never felt more clearly about anything in my life." I lifted my free hand with the little wrapping paper ring and said, "I love you, Stefani. Will you marry me?" She quickly and emphatically answered, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" and her eyes filled with tears as I slipped the makeshift giftwrap ring over her finger. She then leapt into my lap, cradled my face with her palms, and passionately kissed me through her weeping. The Idea. We introduced the idea to Lizzie and Toni as we were all playing board games that Christmas afternoon. It would be an understatement to say they were thrilled about being sisters and living in the same house together. Stefani and I hadn't even begun to consider logistics of being a family. Would we live in my house, her house, a new house? Regardless, the girls immediately started planning how they wanted to decorate a shared bedroom. Stefani asked if they might each like their own room, an idea which the girls quickly dismissed. As the girls' planning continued, Stefani discreetly moved her hand under the table and onto my thigh, giving it affectionate caresses and little love squeezes. I gave her a contented smile, then a moment later she interrupted the girls' conversation to ask, "Would the two of you like to sleep in the tent downstairs again tonight?" Of course they said yes, but I think Stefani and I were even more excited than they were. When the evening wound down, we tucked them into bed and headed upstairs to my bedroom. Stefani decided she would like a shower so we gathered towels and toiletries, sharing plenty of kisses and touches as we did. We reluctantly parted and she proceeded into the bathroom. I heard the glass door open and close, then the sounds of splashing water indicating she was in the shower. I gave her about 10-minutes to freshen up before stripping naked and going in to surprise her. I opened the shower door to see her rinsing shampoo from her hair. She continued rinsing without interruption, but acknowledged me by saying, "I was hoping you would come in." My hands explored her body while she attempted to rinsed her hair, my hardened cock occasionally poking and pressing against her as we moved. She gave up rinsing after a few moments and we urgently kissed in each other's arms, our wet naked bodies pressed together and responding to the slippery contact. After some extended foreplay, I turned Stefani away from me and motioned for her to place one foot up on the tiled shower bench, then entered her from behind in that standing position. She steadied herself against the shower walls as I passionately took her in that standing position, my hands alternating between her holding her hips and kneading her soapy tits. Stefani giggled as I eventually pulled out of her and the combined product of our orgasms trailed down the inside of her leg and swirled down the shower drain. We did actually clean ourselves, of course with a lot of shared soaping, rinsing, and drying assistance, before taking our desire to the bed. We made love numerous times that night in various waves of passion, some tender and caring, some urgent and visceral, and all immensely satisfying to our bodies and souls. Announcement. Stefani told her parents about our engagement when they returned from their cruise. They were understandably concerned given the very short timeline of events and urged her to slow things down. They expressed the same to me when Lizzie and I met them for the first time over a family dinner. After eating, her parents took me aside to reinforce their concerns when I began talking somewhat cryptically, "I was perfectly content living day-to-day, just Lizzie and me as our own little family. Sure, I had fantasies about my wife still being alive, or meeting some beautiful woman that would fill that hole in my heart, but I didn't expect that to ever happen and certainly didn't seek it out. Then Lizzie met Toni, and I met a very; guarded; version of Stefani." Her parents gave each other knowing glances at that statement, and her dad offered, "And bitchy." I laughed and put my hands up in the air as if to mockingly plead, "You said it, not me." before I verbally continued, "Let's just say that her; cold; attitude led to us having a conversation and discovering we have some common experiences in our pasts. Anyway, that's when I truly met the real Stefani and began falling in love, not because of our common pasts, but because of the beautiful, intelligent, caring, compassionate, and cheerful person I came to know after she let me in. I didn't understand what was missing from my life until I truly met the real Stefani; and Toni. The four of us complete each other." Her parents' faces visibly softened as I continued, "I completely understand your concerns, and I'm willing to wait as long as it takes to have your blessing. Your daughter is my fantasy, my fairy tale that I thought I would never find. I can wait a little longer." Her mom's eyes filled with tears and her dad held out his hand to shake mine saying, "You have our blessing. I trust the two of you to decide when the time is right." Blending. Stefani and I honored her parent's guidance and spent the next months growing together and falling deeper in love. We had frequent sleepover nights at both my house and hers and were really beginning to function as a family of four. Stefani was very much becoming a mother to Lizzie, and me a father to Toni. At some point that spring, we all knew the time was right. In early June, Stefani's parents and a small gathering of friends looked on as Stefani, Toni, Lizzie, and I stood on the bridge behind our house and officially became a family. It turns out maybe Lizzie was always right about that bridge. It did have a way of healing wounds and making everything right again. Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Bridge Engineering: Part 2 Why is my mom here? Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. I awoke to the sound of Lizzie's bathroom door opening and closing, and the girls' footsteps moving around her bedroom. I laid there for a minute then reluctantly pulled myself out of bed to splash some water on my face and slip on a pair of flannel lounge pants and a t-shirt. I emerged from my bedroom and looked down in the great room to see the girls standing by the sofa looking at Stefani as she slept. Toni heard me coming down the stairs and asked, "Why is my mom here?" Lizzie followed that with the accurate but impolite assessment, "Her makeup is all smeared." Before I could say anything, Toni shook her mom's shoulder and loudly inquired, "Mom! Mom! Are you ok?!" Stefani stirred, stretched her legs under the blankets, and drowsily answered, "Yes honey, I'm fine. Mom just had a really rough night." Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Toni and Lizzie went into the pantry and started lining up cereal boxes while debating the merits of each selection. By that time, I was also downstairs and gently offered, "Good morning" to Stefani as I went about rekindling the hearth. She moaned as she sat up on the sofa and said, "I'm so embarrassed. I can't believe I came here like that last night." "I'm glad you did. I don't know what that was all about, but I was happy to know you were here and safe." She gave a muffled "Thank you." while she hung her head and cradled it in her hands, then mumbled to herself, "I can't believe I thought he would be any different." Toni must have had one ear tuned into our conversation and interjected in an annoyed tone of voice, "Is this about a man?" Lizzie looked at Toni, then at me and matter-of-factly said, "She should go sit on the bridge." It was an unquestionable truth in Lizzie's mind that time sitting on the bridge would fix whatever was bothering Toni's mom. I smiled and said, "Lizzie, I think that is a great idea." She puffed her chest proudly and went about pouring a bowl of cereal. I finished adding logs to the fire and suggested to Stefani, "There's a half-bath by the kitchen, or you're welcome to use my bathroom upstairs if you would like a shower. I'll pull together some fresh clothes for you. When you are ready, I think we should go for a walk;” then in a slightly louder voice added, "away from little eavesdroppers." "You really wouldn't mind if I took a shower?" "Not at all. I'll get you some towels and toiletries." The corners of her mouth turned upward in a small smile of gratitude and, for the first time that morning, Stefani looked me directly in the eyes and offered a very heart-felt, "Thank you." She stood up, pulled the hem of her dress down, and followed me up the stairs in her black legging covered feet. At the top of the stairs, I reached in the linen closet and handed her a stack of two bath towels, a hand towel, and a washcloth. My hands then sorted through some of the miscellaneous toiletries stored in the same closet and added a toothbrush, toothpaste, and stick of pre-teen girly deodorant. I apologized as I set the brightly patterned container on top of the towels, "Sorry, you're stuck with this unless you want to use men's deodorant." Returning to our inventory of toiletries, I started checking labels on bottles of Lizzie's 2-in-1 bodywash and shampoo, "Ok, looks like your choices are strawberry, cotton candy, or bubble gum." She chuckled and said, "I think I'll go with strawberry." "Good call." We proceeded into my bedroom where I motioned her toward the ensuite bathroom and said, "Make yourself at home and use whatever you need in there. I'm pretty sure the door locks. To be honest, I've never used it." She surveyed the bedroom and its contents on her way to the bathroom and I walked the opposite direction toward my walk-in closet. "I'll find some clothes while you are in the shower and set them on the corner of the bed." She softly said, "Thank you." while walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. I proceeded to rummage through my closet looking for things that might work. I knew my clothes made for a 6'-3" tall man wouldn't fit her properly, but they were the only option available. My hands methodically moved across the wall rack, sliding each hanger a bit so I could examine the respective article. After a few minutes, I heard the sounds of Stefani turning on the shower, opening the glass shower door, and then water sporadically splashing against the tile and glass enclosure. My mind came to the awareness that there was a completely naked woman in my shower, just on the other side of the door. I couldn't help but think of how her intimate features must look as the steaming spray trickled down her body. Realizing I was standing there inappropriately fantasizing about a woman in a questionable emotional condition, I snapped myself out of it and continued thumbing through hangers to arrive at a pair of heavy flannel lounge pants. They were a much too small Christmas gift from years past, but I figured they would work for Stefani if she rolled the pant legs up a little. A t-shirt and sweatshirt seemed like the obvious choices for her upper half given a lot of women like relaxing in oversized men's clothes anyway. Organizing my selections, I noticed there weren't any undergarments and shrugged it off thinking she would just have to re-use what she had on, or go commando, but then had a last-second thought to grab a pair of boxer shorts. I folded everything neatly, set the items in a pyramiding stack on the corner of the bed, and closed the bedroom door behind me on the way out. About 30-minutes later, the girls were in Lizzie's room and I was sitting in the great room when Stefani padded down the stairs in bare feet wearing the lounge pants and the oversized t-shirt that was slightly moist around the collar from her damp curls. The t-shirt clung a little to her moist torso and gave evidence of her unrestrained tits jiggling under the fabric. She smiled as she reached the main floor and softly said, "Thank you. I really needed that." "You're welcome. Are you hungry?" "Not really, my stomach is still turning a little from last night." she said as she sat next to me on the sofa and folded her legs beneath her. "I'm so sorry for the drama. I wasn't thinking clearly and I'm thoroughly embarrassed I showed up here like that." "Please don't be. Like I said earlier, I'm just happy to know you're safe. You seemed pretty traumatized." Stefani replied, "Traumatized is probably a little strong." before seemingly pausing to consider if she wanted to offer any more information. She exhaled loudly and hesitantly continued, "I've had some; let's call them; rocky roads in my personal life, and last night was just the latest example." I sympathetically offered, "I'm sorry." She shrugged her shoulders and introspectively recapped, "I've worked with him for several years and thought he was a nice guy; and he was until he started drinking. Dinner was enjoyable, but by the time we all got to the dance club he was pretty buzzed and started getting handsy. When I rebuffed his advances, he got belligerent and more forceful." Stefani's eyes were beginning to swell as she recounted the previous evening's events in her head. My own head was filled with questions and concerns, but I sensed she had more to say and didn't want to hinder her in getting it out. "Thankfully, my coworkers saw what was happening and interceded. He took off and that was the end of it." She paused for a moment then tearily continued, "It's not just him. Last night wasn't the first time something like this happened. I seem to be a magnet for jerks and losers. At least this one wasn't married; that I know of." "I'm sorry." She quietly repeated to herself something she had said the previous night, "Why can't I escape it?" I couldn't hold back my curiosity, "You said that last night too. What do you mean you can't escape 'it'?" She answered coldly through her tears, "Alcohol," before pausing for a few quick moments to gather herself and continuing, "It ruined my marriage. It robbed Toni of a father. It turned my coworker into a creep last night. Etc, etc;” I took her hand in mine and said, "I'm sorry. I understand." She abruptly pulled her hand from mine and argued, "I appreciate your compassion, but please don't say you understand." I stood up and said, "I think we should go for a walk outside." I didn't really give her an opportunity to say no and walked to the mudroom to get a jacket. I put mine on, then handed one to Stefani as she followed me. We both slipped on a pair of my fleece lined muck boots. The boots and jacket were both too large for her, but they would suffice. I shouted to the girls that Stefani and I were going on a walk, then we stepped outside. As we strolled away from the house and into the woods, I inquired, "Please tell me about your ex-husband." "Well, we met in college and he was wonderful. I thought he was everything I wanted in life. His drinking wasn't an issue then. I mean we both went to the typical college parties and had too much to drink, but it wasn't a problem. We married the summer after we graduated and started a typical newlywed life." Our boots crunched through fall leaves on the forest floor as Stefani continued, "After we were married, he occasionally went out with friends or old college buddies and came home drunk. Again, it wasn't frequent and wasn't anything concerning." We reached Lizzie's bridge and both sat on the edge dangling our feet over the water below. "Over time, and after Toni came along, his occasional nights out evolved into several times a week and he became defensive whenever I would say anything about it. Eventually, alcoholism; let's call it what it was; completely overtook him. It wasn't just going out with friends anymore. He always had a drink in his hand. Commitments were meaningless to him and he would show up hours late, if at all. Toni's birthday parties, family holidays, dates with me; it didn't matter." "By the time Toni was three, he lost his job, which only gave him an excuse to be drunk all day. I constantly begged him to get help, but that would only agitate him and cause a fight. That continued for about a year until his agitation turned into physical abuse. That was my breaking point and I told him I wanted a divorce." Stefani was now talking through streaming tears and I took her hand in mine as a show of support. "The night I told him, he went out to the bar and never came back. After a couple weeks, I realized he was never coming back and I hired a divorce attorney who, in turn, hired a private investigator to track him down. It took a few months, but they eventually found him in Key West where he could find work as a day laborer on fishing charters and beg enough money and free drinks from tourists to get by. He demanded a healthy ransom to sign the divorce papers but, at that point, I would have paid anything." With that, she fell silent and leaned to rest her head on my shoulder. We sat quietly listening to the gentle breeze in the trees, punctuated occasionally by Stefani's sniffles. After a few minutes of building courage, I sighed and started talking, "I think I told you that Lizzie and I lived in Indiana before moving here, right?" Stefani answered softly with her head still on my shoulder, "Yes." "Well, I grew up there, in a very small town in the southern part of the state. When I was younger, my dad was a functional alcoholic. He was the best heavy equipment mechanic in the area and ran a very successful business, but came home and drank himself to blackout every night." Stefani raised her head to look at me as I continued talking, "He wasn't an angry or abusive drunk, and was never drunk in public. He was just basically an absent parent. He worked all day then came home, sat in front of the television and drank until he passed out." "My mom did everything for us and held the family together until she got sick when I was in 8th grade. The ovarian cancer had already metastasized throughout her abdomen when she was diagnosed, and she was gone a few months later." My hand had held Stefani's while she was talking and now she reciprocated by interlacing her slender fingers with mine. "Even though he didn't show it, my dad loved her deeply and her death sent him into a tailspin. He turned into a full-time drunk and lost everything; the business, the house, the cars. There were many mornings that I would wake up for school and find him passed out in the living room or, worse yet, already starting the new day with a drink in his hand. When I was in high school, it was common for me to get a call from the Sheriff saying he was drunk or passed out somewhere around town. The Sheriff was a family friend and just called me to come get him rather than arresting him. Looking back on it, he was just an enabler by letting him go." Stefani squeezed my hand in hers as I spoke, "I worked odd jobs around town and managed to earn enough money for my dad and I to survive in a tiny apartment above the hardware store. Between poverty status and my good school grades, I managed to get a full scholarship at IU in Bloomington." "I was concerned about how my dad would take me leaving for school, but it turned out I didn't need to worry. His only question was if I would have a job and keep paying the bills. I did and continued doing so even after Julie and I were married." Stefani leaned against me as we sat on the bridge and offered, "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. You do understand." "Yes, unfortunately I do." She cautiously probed further, "If I may ask, is your dad still around?" I had repressed this part of my past for years and wasn't sure I wanted to dredge up those memories. My head hung and watched the bubbling water below. After several minutes without a response, Stefani squeezed my hand and prompted, "David?" "He's in prison." She dug deeper when she realized I wasn't going to elaborate on my own, "Why?" I continued looking into the moving water and softly said, "Julie and Lizzie were hit by a drunk driver." It took a second to register in her mind, "Oh my God, it was him." "Yes." She took her hand from mine and, instead, wrapped both arms around me in a sympathetic and understanding hug. We sat in each other's arms for quite some time before I said, "We should probably go back inside and see what the girls are doing." Stefani agreed and we slowly made our way back through the woods toward the house. As we walked, I said, "Lizzie doesn't know any of that stuff about her grandfather. I'll tell her someday, but probably not anytime soon." "I understand. Toni was young enough that she doesn't remember her dad and didn't know why he left. I avoided the topic for a long time, but eventually I had to tell her." "Lizzie knows that she and Julie were in a car accident. She just doesn't know the part about my dad." Stefani stopped walking and pulled on my arm for me to stop with her. She pulled me into an embrace and said, "Thank you." I returned her hug, then kept one arm around her back as we finished walking to the house. Stefani, Toni, Lizzie and I spent most of the afternoon playing board games by the fireplace and enjoying the time together. As we did, I found myself becoming attracted to Stefani, both mentally and physically. The cold, guarded person I knew faded away and a new sunny, alluring personality emerged as she smiled and laughed. I stole glances while she wasn't looking, enjoying the simple way she sat with one leg folded beneath her and the other pulled up so she could rest her chin on her knee, the way she twisted curls of hair in her slender fingers when she thought, the way her neatly-painted toes flexed when she reached for the board game pieces, and the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed. Later in the evening, Stefani and I collaborated on preparation of an impromptu taco dinner, before we all said our goodbyes. Still in my borrowed clothes as they left, Stefani gave me one more hug and whispered in my ear, "Thank you again for taking me in." before giving me a soft kiss on the cheek. Uniting. Play dates continued frequently for Lizzie and Toni over the following weeks, both at Stefani's house and at mine. However, unlike before, Stefani would invite me to stay and I would do the same when at my house. Sometimes we would simply sit quietly in each other's company working on our laptops. Other times we would chat casually about a wide range of topics, getting to know each other and exploring our commonalities and differences. During one of those discussions, we found ourselves talking about balancing life demands as a single parent; children, work, cooking, cleaning, etc., and how it left very little time for personal interests and pursuits. I joked, "Ha, sharing the work is definitely a strong argument for having a partner!" Stefani looked at me and very seriously asked, "Have you dated since Julie passed?" "I've been on a few dates, but I wouldn't say I've dated. A couple years after we moved here, some of my friends started trying to set me up with people. The ladies were nice enough, but I wasn't ready yet and it just didn't feel right. After a few dates, I decided it was best to just decline their attempts" She probed further, "How long ago was that?" "The last one was maybe 4 years ago." I answered before returning the question, "How about you? Have you dated?" She groaned, "Hmm, my dating history isn't any better than what happened with that guy from my office. I've met a few guys, but they've all turned out to be jerks. I tell you, I'm a magnet for them. One guy that I really liked and went out with for about a month, turned out to be married. The others weren't that much different than the guy from work, and it became obvious on the first dates that they were only looking for sex, not a relationship." "I'm sorry." Neither one of us said anything more on the topic and we moved on to other subjects, but there was an unspoken understanding that we were both exploring the other person's openness to a relationship. Friendsgiving. The week after Thanksgiving, Stefani and I sat on stools at my kitchen island tapping away on our laptop keyboards while Toni and Lizzie played upstairs. I was answering emails, and Stefani was filling out what looked to be a very complicated accounting spreadsheet on her screen. After an hour or so, Stefani sighed and announced, "I need a break from these numbers." She extended her arms straight above her head and arched her back as she stretched. The motion served to thrust her tits outward, stretching the fabric of her thin button-up blouse and revealing the intricate texture of a lace bra beneath. It also caused the bottom of the untucked blouse to rise upward, exposing a flat, toned midriff and cute belly button. Having been caught looking, she just smiled knowingly and asked "How was your Thanksgiving?" "It was good. Lizzie and I went over to George and Linda's house for a 'Friendsgiving'. There were about ten people there, plus a few kids. We stayed for most of the day, then came home and roasted some marshmallows in the fireplace. How was yours?" "It was stereotypical," she replied as she continued in a mock monotonous tone, "We went to my parents' house, ate dinner, and all the men fell asleep watching football while my mom and sisters harassed me to find a husband. You know, all the usual things." I said sarcastically, "Sounds delightful." then asked seriously, "I take it that is a topic of conversation at every family gathering?" "Yes, they think they are being funny about it, joking about how they should set me up with this guy or that guy, but it gets annoying really fast. Especially since I know they really aren't joking. At least I won't have to hear it at Christmas. My parents decided to go on a Caribbean cruise over the holidays, so my sisters are all going to their husbands' sides of their families." I processed that for a few seconds, then asked, "Have you made any other plans? Would you and Toni like to spend Christmas here with us?" Stefani sincerely replied, "I would love that. I know Toni will too." We went on to plan out the details and decided that Stefani would bring their gifts over on Christmas Eve so she didn't have to transport them Christmas morning. That discussion evolved into Stefani bringing some of her family's traditional Italian dishes for dinner, then further into a more formal Christmas Eve dining event. She thought it would be fun for the girls, and I certainly didn't object to the idea of seeing Stefani in a nice dress. Holidays. On the Saturday two weeks before Christmas, Lizzie and I went to the local Rotary Club tree sale. Lizzie carefully inspected every tree on the lot before running back to one of the first trees near the entrance and declaring, "This is it! This is the perfect tree!" The Frazier Fir was a little big and a little expensive for my preference, but I acquiesced and paid the man standing next to me with a perceptive grin on his face. After strapping the tree on top of my Jeep, we climbed in and I asked Lizzie, "Should we see if Toni wants to come help decorate it?" Lizzie bounced in her seat and squealed, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted Stefani, "Just bought tree. U2 want to decorate tonight?" She replied back almost immediately, "Yes, I'll bring chili." When we got home, I untied the tree in the gravel driveway and did my best to shake out any loose needles. Before taking it in the house, Lizzie and I decided on a location off to the side of the great room fireplace and shifted furniture around to accommodate the tree. I then dug the tree stand and some boxes of decorations out of the basement. After all the preparations were made, I brought the tree inside. Lizzie steadied the empty stand while I placed the base of the tree and held it upright while Lizzie tightened the stand's handscrews to secure it in place. With it tightened as much as Lizzie's little fingers could muster, I crawled under the tree and made little adjustments while Lizzie gave me left or right straightening instructions. When she was satisfied, I gave each of the handscrews a final tightening. We stood together admiring our work and congratulated each other on the job well done before she went get a container of water for the tree. I spent the next couple hours on household tasks that I hadn't accomplished during the week, then decided to get cleaned up a little before Stefani and Toni arrived. I washed up, applied some fresh deodorant and cologne, then changed into a pair of casual khakis and an ugly but festive Christmas sweater. Decorating. Stefani and Toni arrived soon after I changed. Stefani carrying a crockpot of chili and Toni carrying a bag full of accompaniments. Lizzie and I greeted them at the door and unloaded their hands as they shed their coats and shoes. Stefani laughed at my sweater as she slid her coat off her shoulders, "Seriously?" I feigned ignorance and replied sarcastically, "What?!" With coats hung up and the crock pot plugged in, the four of us found our way over to the unadorned tree and began discussing how to decorate it. I opened the box containing light strands and said, "We have some multi-color lights and some white lights, which should we use ladies?" The two girls discussed it for a moment then answered in unison, "All of them!" I chuckled and started untangling the light strands and stringing them around the tree as Stefani and the girls explored the other boxes of decorations I had brought up from the basement. I couldn't help but admire Stefani as she picked through the boxes and watched me wrap lights around the tree. She was wearing a loose-fitting cream color corded sweater, black leggings, and cream color fuzzy socks that matched her sweater. I'm sure she intended it as a comfortable lounging outfit, but it complimented her long, toned body very well. I finished the last strand of lights and took a seat on the sofa while Toni and Lizzie continued unwrapping ornaments and laying them out on the floor. Stefani had found a tree skirt in one of the boxes and asked, "Should I put it on?" I answered, "Sure. There should be another one somewhere in the boxes if you want to see it, but I think the one you have is the best." She said, "This one is nice." then crawled over to the tree. She unfolded the skirt and reached under the tree while on her hands and knees to pull it around the trunk. Gravity slid the bottom of her oversize sweater above her hips and a few inches up her back as she leaned and stretched to adjust the skirt, presenting a wonderful view of her perfect heart-shaped rear. My gaze was fixed on the sensual, womanly curves that were only slightly veiled by the form-fitting legging fabric. Stefani pulled the skirt edges outward and tried her best to smooth any wrinkles before asking, "How does that look?" Still staring at her ass, I rallied courage to suggestively answer, "It looks incredible." Curious about the overly enthusiastic response, Stefani looked back over her shoulder and saw me looking at her rear, not the tree skirt. She smiled mischievously, subtly wiggled her ass, then spent a couple more minutes unnecessarily straightening imaginary wrinkles in the skirt. The girls were unaware of the adult exchanges and Lizzie innocently asked, "Can we start putting ornaments on now?" I came back to reality and answered, "Sure, go for it!" as Stefani moved to sit next to me on the sofa. The girls formulated a plan for shorter Lizzie to decorate the bottom of the tree, taller Toni to hang ornaments on the middle section, and Stefani and me to get whatever they couldn't reach. Stefani nestled against my side as we watched the girls make trips back and forth between selecting ornaments laid on the floor and choosing the perfect location for each on the tree. Their happiness being together and sharing in the festive atmosphere was infectious, and I sat there feeling emotions I hadn't felt in a very long time. It was very comfortable to have Toni and Stefani there with us. It just felt right. With those thoughts swirling in my head, my hand reached to find Stefani's and our fingers intuitively interlaced. My heart swelled as Stefani snuggled further into me. When the girls had their portions of the tree sufficiently loaded, Stefani and I finished decorating the upper portion and I added the crowning star. We all stood back to admire our work and I flipped the switch for the grand lighting finale. The girls cheered with delight while Stefani and I each put an arm around the other's back and shared a side-hug while appreciating the tree. After sharing a few moments, Stefani moved on to serve dinner while I cleaned up the empty decoration boxes. We all shared conversation over the meal at the dining room table, then played some after-dinner card games. I felt a pang of emptiness when it was time for Stefani and Toni to leave, and really didn't want them to go. That evening I felt a sense of family that I hadn't felt since Julie died. I didn't want to scare Stefani with the heaviness of my thoughts, and understatedly said, "I really enjoyed spending the day with you. I hope we can all spend more evenings like this together." Stefani wasn't as subtle. As they were putting their coats on and heading out the door, she gave me a goodbye hug with the girls looking on, and whispered in my ear, "I didn't see mistletoe hung anywhere. You should get some." Holiday Break. The week before Christmas was a whirlwind, filled with school holiday activities, Christmas shopping, and end-of-the-year accounting for my business. There wasn't time for play dates, but we did all see each other at the school holiday play and concert. Both girls had parts in the play, Toni as an ice skater and Lizzie tending a chestnut roasting cart. Stefani and I found each other in the crowd of parents entering the auditorium and enjoyed the show side-by-side. I didn't know how she felt about the two of us being friendly in public, so I sat next to her playing the part of a plutonic acquaintance. It was Stefani who reached over and placed her hand on the top of my thigh, which I covered with mine and gave a squeeze of affection. We all went to the downtown sweet shop after the concert where the girls both ate mountainous ice cream sundaes while Stefani and I sipped on decaf coffee. We shared another goodbye hug when we parted ways at the end of the evening. This time it was my turn to whisper in Stefani's ear, "We need to find some time alone." She inhaled sharply and shuddered a little when I discreetly placed a kiss just under her ear. The Big Event. On the morning of Christmas Eve, Lizzie and I made some final preparations for the big event, including retrieval of a formal set of china and crystal stemware packed away in the basement. We washed all the china and stemware before turning our attention to the table by spreading a white linen tablecloth, arranging the china and crystal place settings, and creating a centerpiece with some fir boughs and velvet ribbon. The crowning element was a forest of candles randomly spaced along the center of the table. After finishing, I steered Lizzie up to her room to change clothes before doing a quick final clean of the kitchen and great room, then heading upstairs to freshen up and change. I opted for a slightly casual look with a sport coat and open collar button-down shirt. Lizzie went for an all-out, over-the-top look in a way only a third-grade girl can, with a long lace dress, heels, and an abundance of costume jewelry. I heard gravel crunching under tires as I was complimenting Lizzie on her dress and looked out the window to see Stefani and Toni's car coming to a stop outside. Lizzie and I greeted them at the door. Lizzie with squeals of excitement for Toni, and me with a hug for Stefani. With a long overcoat still on, Stefani said, "Presents and dinner are in the trunk of my car. Would you mind?" "Of course not." I didn't bother putting on a coat and swiftly walked out to retrieve hot trays of food covered in aluminum foil and packed in boxes. Toni held the door open upon my return to the house and I complimented her attire, which was on par with Lizzie's style for the evening. I entered to see Stefani standing in the kitchen wearing a floor-length, deep burgundy satin evening gown. The off-the-shoulder cut drew attention to her lithe neck and sensually exposed collar bones and shoulders, while the deep-V bust line and her pendant necklace pointed directly to the shallow valley between her modest tits. The torso of the dress was neatly fitted to her narrow waist then flared outward over her hips into the pleated A-line gown. It was the perfect dress for her body and she looked absolutely amazing. My admiration grew even more when she shifted position to purposefully reveal a long, toned leg through the full length slit in the side. "You look incredible!" I praised while placing the boxes of food on the kitchen island and making a show of looking at her from head to toe. She feigned a shy, "Aww, thank you." and humbly said, "I wear it once a year for the company holiday party." I turned to make another trip to her car and on the way out the door, I replied, "You should wear it more often. You make that dress look really good." I made several trips schlepping boxes of food and Christmas presents. When I returned and put the last couple boxes on the kitchen counter, Stefani had begun unpacking an assortment of homemade Italian dishes, including chicken piccata, fettucine with clam sauce, an antipasto salad, and an assortment of other side dishes. I exclaimed, "Wow, this looks and smells fantastic!" as I moved to steal a small clam off the top of the fettucine. She swatted my hand and playfully disciplined, "You need to wait, mister!" The girls tasked themselves with lighting the numerous candles on the table as I dimmed the house lights. Meanwhile, Stefani finished plating the last few items and carried them to the table. We dined by the soft glow of candlelight talking about good memories of Christmas, with Stefani and I temporarily ignoring the painful ones from our respective pasts. At one point, as the girls were consumed with a conversation of their own, Stefani commented, "This china is beautiful. You have good tastes." I didn't want to kill the mood, but I also wanted to be honest. "Julie picked it out for our wedding registry. She had an eye for the finer things in life." "Oh my gosh, I'm so, so sorry! I should have known!" "Please, it's okay. I wouldn't have used it if I wasn't ready to talk about it. I figured it was time to dust it off for a special occasion." She meekly asked, "Is this the first time you've used it since?" "Yes." Her beautiful blue eyes looked warmly into mine as her long slender fingers mindlessly twirled a lock of hair above her right ear. She spoke with layers of meaning, "I'm understanding more and more that Julie knew how to choose the finer things." We shared an extended gaze across the table that was only interrupted by Toni asking, "Can we have dessert now?" Stefani and I chuckled and she answered, "Yes, you may." before standing up to clear the table of dirty plates. I offered in my best butler voice, "I will service the table, madam, if you would like to prepare the next course for the Ladies of the Court." The girls thought that was hilarious and started practicing their own stuffy accents, which only intensified as consequences of the sugary tiramisu and cannoli took hold. When we had all finished, I announced in my Lordship voice, "Thank you Ladies, the food was remarkable and so was the company. Shall we retire to the parlor for after-dinner amusements?" The girls looked confused, so Stefani clarified, "He means games." after which they scrambled out of their chairs to explore the cabinet housing our selection of card and board games. Stefani and I cleared the table and generally tidied up the kitchen while the girls debated which games to play. We worked efficiently as a team, sharing a lot of unnecessary and 'accidental' touches as we moved about. The girls finished their game selections and we played several games of 'Chutes 'N Ladders' before moving on to 'Sorry' and, finally, a very long game of 'Monopoly' in which they eventually lost interest and asked if they could go watch a movie in the basement. Stefani started to object, "It's getting late. We should probably be going." before I gestured for the girls to go on downstairs. They didn't wait for Stefani's response and took off down the stairs. She looked at me quizzically as I stood up and motioned for her to follow me. We trailed the girls down the stairs where Stefani silently absorbed what was before her. I had set up two twin beds in front of the downstairs television and created a makeshift tent out of some decorative tree branches, tulle fabric, and twinkle lights. It was a perfect sleepover paradise for two third-grade girls. I put my arm around Stefani and whispered in her ear, "You're right, it is getting late. Maybe you should just spend the night." She put her arm around my back and whispered back, "Umm; sounds nice, but;” as she nodded toward the girls. I responded not to her, but to Lizzie and Toni who were sitting on one of the beds scrolling through movie options on the DVR. "Girls?" When they both raised their heads to look at me, I announced, "We've decided to let you have a sleepover tonight so that we can all be here together for Christmas morning;” They cheered and hugged each other before I continued, "; but there are a couple rules; first, you can watch a movie, then you need to get ready for bed in the bathroom down here and go right to sleep. The pink gift bags on your beds are special Christmas Eve sleepover kits with pajamas, toothpaste, a toothbrush, and a few other things." Lizzie and Toni scurried to check out the gift bags, but I interceded, "Wait a minute; the second rule is that you can't come upstairs until 7:00 tomorrow morning;” I said motioning to Stefani and I, "; we need a decent night's sleep. Do you both agree to the rules?" They eagerly shouted in unison, "Yes, Yes, Yes!" "Ok, we'll see you on Christmas morning!" Before we could turn to leave, Toni asked, "Mom, where will you sleep?" I anticipated the question and interceded with a little white lie, "She'll sleep in my bed. I'm going to sleep on the great room sofa so I can make sure you two don't try to sneak upstairs to look at the presents." Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Toni simply said, "Okay, goodnight mom." To be continued in part 3. Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

 Bridge Engineering: Part 1Two broken, single parents find healing.Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.And so it began. The start of another school year. I pulled my Jeep into the school grounds and took my place in the waiting drop-off lane. Children scurried about the school grounds with crisp back-to-school clothes and brightly colored backpacks not yet soiled and tattered from use. I winced internally as numerous mothers hugged their little ones, sent them into the building, and tearfully departed.My Elizabeth unfastened her seatbelt and eagerly fidgeted on the edge of the seat as we crept forward in line. Upon arrival at the designated unloading zone, Lizzie contorted herself over the center console and gave me a tight, all-consuming hug. "I love you Daddy!" she shouted as a volunteer parent opened the car door. And with that, she was gone in a flash. The volunteer and I just smiled at each other and shrugged our shoulders.In a repeat of years past, I drove away with a feeling of emptiness. Lizzie and I spent every minute of the summer together and I grew accustomed to her as my constant companion. It seemed like just yesterday that I dropped her off for the first day of preschool. Today it's third grade. How fast will the remaining years fly by before she leaves me all alone?I spent the day in a nearby coffee shop distractedly conducting business via email on my laptop. It wasn't rational, but somehow it felt better knowing I was only a couple minutes from the school, and from Lizzie. Time passed excruciatingly slow and I struggled to resist going to the school and being one of 'those' helicopter parents. Well, school ends at 2:50. I held out until 2:15.I was third in the line of vehicles waiting for pick-up and my eyes anxiously scanned the mass of children emerging from the school doors. It wasn't long before I spotted Lizzie joyfully skipping hand-in-hand with a girl I didn't recognize. She was rail thin, had a very lightly tanned skin tone, and towered above Lizzie. That wasn't too surprising since Lizzie took after her very petite mother and also barely made the birthday cutoff for her grade, but this girl was quite a bit taller than the average third grader.The girls zig-zagged as they skipped down the sidewalk with swinging arms and bouncing hair. Lizzie's straight and amber brown, her friend's a loose mass of dark curls. Lizzie spotted my Jeep and pointed it out to her friend. They hugged goodbye with Lizzie's arms around her friend's waist, and her friend's arms around Lizzie's head. I smiled at the height contrast and felt a sense of relief as Lizzie ran toward the Jeep.She climbed in and frantically began telling me everything about her day, a flood of words pouring from her mouth as if a damn holding them back had burst, "My teacher is Mrs. Pierpont and she is really nice and she has red hair. A boy named Alex sits next to me and he has shiny shoes. I had a hot dog for lunch and; and; and;”My heart felt comfort as she sat next to me and I heard the happiness in her voice. I needed her near me and to know that everything was ok.Lizzie had talked non-stop for 10 minutes and was still going as we headed toward home. The small-town streets gave way to a rural two-lane road as we headed out of town, and eventually the tires crunched along the gravel road leading to our house in the woods. It was the tranquil setting that I needed when Lizzie and I moved here 8 years ago."; and I met a new friend. Her name is Toni, well it's really Antonia, but she wants to be called Toni. Kind of like my name is Elizabeth, but you call me Lizzie. She is really nice and really tall. She has a pet frog."I interrupted to ask, "Is that who you were skipping with after school?""Yes, she in my class but she doesn't sit next to me. I met her when we were in line for lunch and we sat together. She brought a salad from home and bought a milk in the lunch line. She just moved here from somewhere else. Can I bring lunch from home tomorrow?"I patted her knee with my hand and said, "Of course, you can sweetie." as we parked in front of the house.It wasn't a large house but was plenty of space for the two of us. There was a great room, kitchen and half bathroom on the main level; two bedroom-bathroom suites and a loft space on the second level; and a semi-finished basement that I had been slowly working on for several years. It had all the modern technology and conveniences but was built with a rustic charm complementing its setting in the woods.We kicked our shoes off in the mudroom and Lizzie discarded her backpack into the coat cubby by the door. Lizzie, or more accurately, I, survived the first day of the school year. Only 179 more to go.Getting In A Rhythm.Lizzie and I settled into the school year rhythm over the next couple weeks and I began to slowly let go of my separation anxiety. Every day, I dropped her off at school, worked from home, then picked her up from school. Evenings were filled with homework, dinner preparation, and some form of relaxing time together. Lizzie particularly enjoyed walking in the woods and making up imaginary games with sticks, leaves, rocks, or other things she would find along the way. The grand finale of her outdoor adventures was always spending some time on a rope swing that I had hung from a tall oak tree. Other nights we might occupy ourselves with board games, cards, or television as the mood struck us. At the end of every night, Lizzie would get ready for bed then we would spend about a half-hour talking and reading a book of her choice before turning off the lights.I also noticed another pattern forming in those first few weeks of school. Lizzie was talking more and more about her new friend, Toni. They waited for each other to arrive in the mornings before going into the school together and would always emerge side-by-side in the afternoons. They were quickly becoming inseparable and I was happy to see her form that kind of relationship. Like me, Lizzie had always been socially reserved with only a few limited friendships.I saw her reserved personality opening up more and more with Toni, so one evening when Lizzie asked if she could invite her to play at our house, I readily agreed. I wrote my name and cell phone number on a note pad before tearing it out and handing it to Lizzie, "Ask her to have her parents call me and we will see if we can setup a time to play."Lizzie squealed and bounced up and down in excitement. She continued bouncing all the way to the mudroom and safely deposited the note in her backpack.Introductions.It was a couple days later, mid-morning on Thursday, that I answered a call from a number I didn't recognize. Thinking it was likely a business call, I answered, "Hello, this is David."A friendly but hesitant female voice replied, "Hi, I'm Stefani, Toni's mom.""Hi Stefani. It's nice to meet you, well, over the phone at least. Lizzie has been so excited to play with Toni!""Yes, I've heard a lot about Lizzie over the last couple weeks. Toni is excited too."I got down to details and asked, "When is Toni available?""Would Saturday afternoon, maybe around 1:00, work for you?""Yes, that would be just fine." Not knowing how many facts about our home life found its way to Toni's parents, I tried to be understanding of the fact that people can be cautious of sending their children, especially girls, to a single father's house. I tentatively asked, "Where would Toni be most comfortable? Lizzie would love for her to come here, or we are happy to meet at Triangle Park. Whatever works best for you."Stefani thought for a brief second, then replied, "Would you be comfortable dropping Lizzie off at our house for a couple hours?"I noticed that she said, "drop her off for a couple hours," which clearly meant I was not invited to stay. However, I didn't think much of it since a dad hanging around during a play date in someone else's house would be awkward at best."Yes, I'm sure Lizzie would enjoy that."Stefani gave me the address, then we exchanged closing words and ended the call. I sat and reflected on the conversation for a few moments. It all seemed very normal. Stefani seemed "normal" and was pleasant enough, though I sensed a business-like tone in her voice. I shrugged it off thinking, "How much can you tell from a 2-minute phone call?"Getting Together.I told Lizzie the news when I picked her up from school. She shrieked with excitement, did a little dance in her seat, and began counting the hours until 1:00 Saturday. She definitely got that over-enjoyment of simple things in life, and the dancing talent, from her mother!Saturday eventually arrived, although much too slowly for Lizzie's liking. After lunch, we hopped into the Jeep and rode into town with Lizzie impatiently fidgeting in the passenger seat the whole way. We pulled onto Depot Street near downtown and Lizzie helped me scan for the mailbox with the correct house number. I saw it from a distance and slowed down so she could have the discovery."There it is! There it is! 2 1 5!" she screamed.I brought the Jeep to a stop in front of a small, well-kept bungalow style home with an impressive display of annual flowers by the front steps. As soon as we stopped, Toni burst out the front door and bounded down the porch steps in a single leap. Likewise, Lizzie unfastened her seatbelt and threw open the door in one fluid motion. They met midway across the yard in a full speed, shrieking embrace.I smiled at their innocent joy as I unbuckled my seatbelt and walked around the Jeep toward the house. As I did, the front door opened and a tall, slender lady stepped out onto the porch in bare feet, wearing fashionably weathered blue jeans and a buff color corded sweater. She appeared to be in her early 30s and looked like the identical, older version of Toni. She was maybe around 5 foot 10, tall and had the same slender build, with addition of modest womanly curves at her hips and chest. Her chiseled facial features and shoulder length dark curls were also a matured version of Toni's.I approached the porch and offered a cheery "Hello! I'm David, nice to meet you."She crossed her arms and somewhat coldly replied, "Hi David," then with a voice inflection that implied more of an assertion than a question said, "Would it be ok for you to pick Lizzie up at 3:00?"I sensed the invisible barrier she was erecting and halted my progress toward the porch."Yes, that would be fine. I'll see you then."As I turned away to walk back to the Jeep, she flatly said, "Please don't be late."I didn't reply to her, but turned my attention to Lizzie and said loudly enough for my demander to hear, "Have fun girls! I'll be back Before 3:00 to pick you up Lizzie."While the lady on the porch didn't introduce herself, the voice matched Stefani's from our phone call a few days ago, and was equally business-like in demeanor. It's difficult to describe. She didn't project a mean or nasty personality that would have made me wary of leaving Lizzie, but she was definitely keeping her distance. The mystery of it piqued my curiosity and made me realize that, as much as Lizzie talked about Toni, she hadn't told me anything about her family.I ran a couple errands around town and returned to Lizzie's house at 2:50, ten minutes early. When I pulled up I saw numerous toys strewn across the front yard and heard playing voices and squeals coming from behind the house. Since I was early, I leisurely wandered the front yard picking up hula-hoops, jump ropes, a bicycle, and a few balls. As I deposited the last couple items into a neat pile next to the driveway, I heard Stefani's voice behind me softly say, "Thank you, you didn't need to do that."I turned to face her as she stood on the porch in the same jeans and sweater she had on earlier, "No worries. I was a little early and didn't want to intrude."With her arms crossed in front of her, Stefani somewhat timidly said, "Thank you for that too; for being early."Just then, the girls came running around the corner of the house screaming, "Spider! Spider! Spider!"I looked at Stefani, smiled and shrugged my shoulders. I corralled Lizzie and said, "It's time to go, is there anything you need to clean up?"Toni answered for her, "No, we just had toys out in the front yard. I'll put them in the garage."The girls pleaded for another play date as they hugged. Stefani simply answered, "We'll see."I gave a quick wave goodbye as Lizzie and I climbed in the Jeep and pulled away.Drop-offs and Pick-ups.Over the next few days, the pattern of school drop-offs and pick-ups with Lizzie and Toni as an inseparable pair continued, and Lizzie begged me relentlessly for another out-of-school play date with Toni. Given Stefani's tepid response at the end of the last play date, I was hesitant to initiate. However, Lizzie's continued insistence eventually wore me down and I made the phone call that Thursday.Stefani answered the phone with a simple, "Hello.""Hi Stefani. This is Lizzie's dad, David. How are you today?"She answered somewhat suspiciously, "I'm fine."After a second of not receiving any more of a response, I stumbled a bit with my words and added, "Uh, Lizzie would really like to get together with Toni again. I; I was just calling to see if you would be open to that."Stefani questioned sharply, "Why are you asking if I'm open to it?"I stumbled some more, "Uh; well; you sounded a little hesitant at the end of the last play date and; and I didn't want to be presumptuous about them getting together again."She coldly answered, "I'm fine with it.""Okay, good. It seems Lizzie and Toni are becoming fast friends."In an ever-so-slightly warmer tone of voice, Stefani asked, "When and where are you thinking?""How about Saturday afternoon again? Wherever you would prefer is fine with us.""Yes, that works. Saturday afternoon at 3:00. How about our house again?"I replied, "Sounds good. We'll see you then." before we exchanged goodbyes. I ended the cell phone call and loudly exhaled my relief that the awkward conversation was over.Building Friendships.The beginning of the second play date went much like the first; screaming girls happy to see each other, a cold reception from Stefani, and a firm directive to be there on-time to pick up Lizzie. It also ended similarly to the first play date. I arrived early, exchanged a few short words with Stefani, and gently guided Lizzie to the Jeep as the girls begged for more time together. This same routine became standard procedure over the next several weeks and a half dozen more play dates.The only change to the pattern occurred after the first few play dates, when Stefani and I began texting each other to make arrangements rather than talking on the phone. The texting suited me just fine as it avoided the awkwardness of our previous telephone conversations.Eventually, Lizzie started asking if Toni could come to our house to play. I avoided the subject as long as possible since I wasn't sure how Stefani would feel about Toni coming to a single father's house or, for that matter, even how much she knew about our family situation. After an especially persuasive appeal from Lizzie one afternoon, I caved and picked up my phone to text Stefani.I wasn't sure how to best approach the question and, after several re-writes, settled on a minimal and factual approach, "Hi Stefani. Lizzie would like to invite Toni over to our house for a play date."A couple hours later my phone buzzed with the simple reply, "Okay. When?"After a few exchanges of date options, we settled on that Thursday after school. Stefani offered to drop her off and I sent her our address.I told Lizzie the plan and she immediately began formulating a list of all the things they would do. The two activities that kept rising to the top were to show Toni her bedroom and play on a bridge that she and I had built over a small creek in the woods.It was a simple bridge made by spanning a couple logs from bank to bank, then covering them with old rough sawn slab wood for a walking surface that was about 6-feet wide. It wasn't much, but it was sufficient to occasionally get my small tractor to the other side of the creek and it was one of Lizzie's favorite spots in the world; running over it, throwing stones into the water, looking for crayfish, watching the squirrels and chipmunks, sliding on the frozen stream in the winter, etc. If the weather was nice, she would sometimes do her homework laying belly down on the bridge with her elbows propping up her upper body.It was also her spot of solace when she was sad or upset. She would sit on the edge swinging her feet below her until the surrounding woods healed whatever was bothering her. Eventually, she would meander her way back to the house in a much better mood than she left.She and I were a lot alike in that respect. It was the very reason I bought the property when we moved here, to get away from life and let nature heal some wounds.Inseparable.Lizzie was positively giddy during the ride home from school on Thursday. She recapped the list of things she had planned to show and do with Toni. I reminded her to be a good host and do the things that Toni wants to do, though I suspected that would easily be worked out between the now inseparable friends.As Lizzie shed her backpack and shoes in the mudroom, she asked, "Can we make chocolate chip cookies before Toni gets here?""Sure, I think we have all the ingredients. Start getting everything out."We had made cookies together enough that Lizzie knew where everything was located. She rushed around pulling ingredients, mixing bowls, and baking sheets out of the pantry. After confirming everything needed was present, Lizzie started measuring ingredients into the mixing bowl. I stood by to lend assistance when needed and occasionally clarify a fractional measurement or the difference between teaspoons and tablespoons.Other than a little incident with the flour, Lizzie did a great job mixing the cookie dough. Together, we spooned balls of dough onto baking sheets and put the first tray into the oven. Lizzie set the timer and I suggested she go clean the flour off her arms and face while they were baking.I cleaned errant flour from the countertop and floor while Lizzie washed up. Just as I finished and began to load the dirty bowls and mixing utensils into the dishwasher, the oven timer chimed and there was a knock at the front door almost simultaneously.Lizzie heard it and ran full speed to the door. I quickly dried my hands and hit the button to silenc

JoAnne’s Christmas Curse: Part 2 A Bike Messenger Received. Based on a post by Todd 1 72, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. In the morning, JoAnne only found one skirt and jacket; with a remarkable short skirt. And the only shoes had six inch spike heels. Fortunately the long wool overcoat was back, so at least she could probably make it to the office without being ravished, although as horny as she was waking up, any ravishing was more likely to be her doing anyway. JoAnne shrugged off her coat as she walked past Lillian's desk, the super-short skirt eliciting an appreciative "ooh" from Lillian. Then, Lillian said, "Um, shit. JoAnne, the secretary offsite training is today, so I have to leave in like five minutes; we're supposed to head out to some lame team building exercise thing." JoAnne flinched. Lillian, cute as ever, stood up and stepped into the inner office with her. Lillian continued. "I, um, was really hoping to finish all that, um, dictation we started yesterday, but I just got a call saying there are no excused absences. Human Resources is adamant." JoAnne forced a smile on her face. "Not your fault. I was really hoping we could; um, go over that last part again today. Maybe you could read it back to me tomorrow though." She felt Lillian's warm hand slide up the back of her skirt and gently grab her bare ass, a fingertip just pressed against her asshole. Lillian smiled sweetly as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "I hate to wait that long, but I'll go over my notes so I can read it back exactly right." JoAnne shivered, glanced out the door to make sure nobody was in the outer office, then whispered into Lillian's ear, "God, I was so looking forward to dragging you in here this morning. You'd better run while you still have some clothes on!" Lillian gave her a chaste peck on the cheek, then slipped out the door. Shit. Alone. Horny as hell. JoAnne settled in to get some work done. The morning dragged by, Joanne having to find every file, and never quite sure where to look. She was surprised at how much she actually had undervalued her secretaries; the Byzantine filing system used by the company for hard copy files, was certainly not designed for amateurs. By late afternoon, she found herself frustrated; sorting through file cabinets, looking for a 10-year old file. She was looking in the second lowest cabinet when she heard someone behind her, clearing his throat. JoAnne whirled. The same bike messenger as usual, stood with a package; and gilt edged green envelope in hand. From where he had been standing, he must have had a clear view of her full ass, as she bent over the files. With the super-short skirt and no panties, it didn't take a genius to figure out what he'd seen. She glanced down at his thin spandex cycling shorts surreptitiously. Yep. Hard-on. Giant hard-on. She could see each vein in the trellis texture wrapping around the wide girth of his cock. "How long have you been standing there." "About 90 seconds, I just came; in. I mean came in." "I'll bet." She snatched the big bubble-wrap envelope from his hand. Ripped it open and read the gilt and ivory card. All it said was, "He's all yours." She felt the now-familiar tingling, surge through her. The package had a very nice Christmas bath towel with ivory and gold trim. She stared at the muscular bike messenger, stepped around him; then closed, and locked the office door. "Three questions. No bullshit." He raised an eyebrow, "Yes?" "You married?" "No." "Steady girlfriend?" "No." "Straight?" "Yes." "Fine. I can see you're horny." She gestured at his monstrous hard-on. "You've eyed me every time you've come in here; and if I don't get laid in the next few minutes, I'll go insane." Her skirt and blouse hit the floor, and before he could even respond, she was on her knees and pulling the spandex shorts to his ankles. Her mouth was on his massive cock before he could even finish stepping out of his shoes and pull his shirt off. The taste was amazing, she felt like she couldn't get away; every lick made her crave him even more. She could barely get her hand around the shaft, so she began stroking his massive pole with both hands; spreading as much of her saliva on his cock as she could manage, then she began pumping his cock in and out of her mouth, getting a little deeper with each stroke. She felt his hands grip her hair, and he slowly began to take over the rhythm, and driving in a little deeper each time. She felt a flash of anger as she realized he was just fucking her mouth, just using her! The feeling of anger flashed into heat that seemed to center on her pussy. She groaned around the thrusting pole. His cock went in deeper and she sucked harder, slurping as he pulled back. Fuck, it felt great, just to act like a total slut! She moved her hands back around, to grab his muscular ass, and began pulling him in harder. She should have been gagging and choking on his cock; it was going halfway down her damn throat! But apparently Holly had also turned off her gag mechanism or something. He must think she was a total whore to be able to deep throat him like that. The more she thought about it, the more it turned her on. She grabbed his ass hard and pulled him right up to her, feeling his cock slide down her throat until her lips were all the way down. She held him that way, listening to him groan, then she very slowly slid him out of her burning mouth, looking up at him and making hard eye contact. Just as he was almost out of her mouth, she let her teeth touch the head; then sucked him all the way in again. After four times, his eyes were starting to lose focus, so she finally let him slide all the way out, his cock glistening with her saliva. "You're not getting off that easy; I said I need to get laid. I need to get fucking pounded!" JoAnne led him over to the desk then she laid down on. With ass right at the edge, she pulled her knees up until they were right at her tits. The bike courier guy didn't hesitate at all, plunging his steel rod in all the way to the hilt. Even as wet as she was, the huge pole filling her; induced a gasp. "Oh yeah! Now just fucking hammer that pussy!" He complied without a word, his balls slapping against her ass with each drive. Moaning loudly, she stretched her legs up, then rested her heels over his shoulders, and began tweaking her hard nipples. With all her frustration earlier, her orgasms didn't take long to arrive; gushing hot juice as her inner muscles contracted on the giant cock. Feeling the force of her orgasm, he started to slow. She snarled through gritted teeth, "Keep fucking, god dammit! Don't stop or I'll slap the shit out of you!" He grinned and continued ramming into her steaming hole; it took two more hard climaxes, before she could feel herself relax. He began to pick up speed, and she could see from his face; he was nearly there. Suddenly the desk slid; and his cock popped out, pointed right at her; just as a fountain of sticky white cum erupted. JoAnne felt the first rope, splattering upward from her stomach, to her tits, and finally her face. Then a second rope came even harder and longer. Since her mouth was open, she got a good taste of the hot jizz. Her mouth filled up, just as the second rope a jizz abated. She stared directly into his eyes as she swallowed it all. A third rope commenced, hitting her right between the eyes. It spread evenly in both lateral directions. Covering her eye shadow and cascading down over her eyelids, and flowing over her high cheekbones. It ran along her jaw, and dribbled into the ravine of her deep cleavage. That bitch! JoAnne was sure she could hear Holly’s haunting giggle. He staggered back. "Shit, I'm sorry, the damn desk slid; I, uh;” She waved him off, licking the cum off her lips. "Don't worry about it; furniture has a mind of its own sometimes." He dressed hurriedly while she toweled herself off. After he was gone, she checked her hair one last time for cum droplets and headed home. That night, her vibrator was buzzing pretty late. Three on a match The next morning, one of the red outfits was hanging in the closet; see through white blouse, red skirt, red jacket; and the now-normal high heel red shoes. Not a stitch of underwear, of any type, of course. The skirt seemed longer than they had been, the last few days, and the neckline was a little less obvious. With the jacket closed and fully buttoned, she could probably be seen in public without getting arrested. Another Christmas card lay on her counter, all it said was, "Be Helpful! Helping Others Can be Fulfilling." Lillian wasn't in the outer office. Just as JoAnne settled into her chair, Lillian, wearing a cute little gray skirt outfit, came in, leading a small young woman with light brown hair and huge glasses, into the room. "JoAnne, this is Mouse, from the IT office. She is going to replace the Video conference set-up this morning; a lot more than the cable, was bad." "Mouse"; gave a weak smile, which clearly showed where she had picked up her nickname. The resemblance to a friendly, cute, cartoon mouse was uncanny. She had two prominent front teeth and her ears even stuck out enough to make the image perfect. Well, as long as she was here, there was no way JoAnne was going to get Lillian alone. JoAnne moved to Lillian's desk while Lillian and Mouse struggled with the connections. Mouse, working in the secure comms closet, while Lillian kept reconnecting cables under the desk. JoAnne watched Lillian's cute round ass, wiggling around as she swapped out yet another piece of the system, while Mouse adjusted settings on the master board in the closet; occasionally closing the door to see the whole panel. Going down a couple floors, to Security; to sign for a new badge and computer token that would work with the new conference system, was a relief for JoAnne. As she walked back into her office, closing the outer door behind her, the first thing she saw was Lillian's yummy ass, still wiggling from under the desk. Looking around, she noted that everyone seemed to be still at work, just as she’d left them. So that means Mouse was still in the comms closet, with the door almost shut. Grinning evilly, JoAnne slid up behind the desk and the lovely ass of her assistant was exposed. She rolled up her desk chair and seated herself, then slid one hand up her inner thigh; slowly; whispering, "As soon as we're alone, I'm eating that sweet pussy, until you scream! Then I'm fucking your brains out with Carlos!” That was the nickname she gave her new strap-on dildo harness setup. Lillian didn't say anything, but spread her legs further. JoAnne then saw the jeweled stem of a lovely ass-plug, deeply set in Lillian’s lovely asshole. Where did Lillian get this lovely accessory from? She let her fingers cruise up the soft inner thigh. Much to her excitement, Lillian wasn't wearing any panties; and she was very, very wet. JoAnne began to finger her in earnest, massaging the rapidly swollen clit and dripping pussy rapidly. Lillian was thrusting back against her hand, so she quickly slipped two fingers into her, pumping in and out until she heard a soft moan and felt Lillian's pussy muscles contacting rhythmically on her fingers. Hearing the rattling at the comms closet door, she rapidly stood up and acted as if she was in the middle of a conversation with Lillian: "So we may have to stay later tonight until we get this sorted out." Lillian stepped out of the comms closet. Stunned Joanne looked down at the desk as Mouse slipped out from underneath it, with a huge mousey grin, flushed face and a great deal of hair out of place. Belatedly, Joanne realized Mouse was also wearing a gray skirt, just like Lillian's. "I'll stay as late as you want, Ma'am! Gosh Lily, you said she was great to work for, but I didn't know she was this great!" Lillian looked confused. Mouse's grin got even wider. "Lil, she didn't know we switched places; she thought I was you.” Turning back to the director, Mouse continued; “Miss Steadman, It was great! Mouse was euphoric and giddy. “LiI, haven't gotten laid since the last time we did the amateur-night strip club thing, you know? The time you and I had too much tequila, ended up in the oil-wrestling pit, and went home together? And Miss Steadmann was really good! Normally I'd scream if someone just slid their hand up my skirt, but it was so obvious she thought it was you! And I thought it would be funny; she promised to fuck my brains out as soon as we were alone. So I was going to say something, but her fingers felt so good; going up my thigh, and I kept putting off saying anything. And I've been so horny all week. I mean; I can masturbate, but it just isn't the same as having someone else do it to you. And she knows just how to use her fingers; I came so hard, I thought I would pass out. Gosh Lily, you need to learn to share!" Mouse said the entire thing in one breath, which made Lillian begin to giggle, then Mouse joined in and finally JoAnne broke down and began to laugh. Breathlessly, JoAnne gasped out, "I'm so sorry, I've just been so crazy horny for the last week." Mouse giggled, "You should jump the bike courier guy; makes me wet every time he walks through the office. I end up fingering myself under the desk!" "I jumped him yesterday, and screwed his brains out." "Oh my gosh! Is he as good as he looks? I'll bet he's hung like a horse!" "Huge; he's just hung like a stallion!. But I'm still horny as hell!" After they finally managed to stop laughing, Mouse looked thoughtfully at the outer office door. Her wicked mouse-grin got wider. She pulled a doorknob sign out of her bag. It said; "Tech Support. Sensitive Hardware Installation; Keep Out." She walked to the outer office door, pulled it open, hung the sign on the outer knob, then closed and locked it with an evil mousey leer. "Looks like later to me!" JoAnne felt Lily reach around her and begin unbuttoning her blouse, pausing for a moment to gently tease JoAnne's hard nipples. Mouse dropped her skirt to the floor and walked towards the cleared off desk. "So Miss Jo, you said something about; making me scream?" Jo shivered as Lily pulled her blouse down off her shoulders while tracing up the nape of her neck with the hot tip of her tongue. Lily whispered in her ear. "I'm holding you to that, too. You may have said it to her, but you thought you were promising it to me. Looks like double duty for you." It was over two hours later when JoAnne finally walked out on wobbly legs. She was even a little sore; Mouse, it turned out, had a fondness for wearing the strap-on and her compact little body had more strength than anyone would expect. JoAnne was also very glad she'd been using the vibrator on her ass so regularly; her earlier attack on Lily's ass had brought a rather delightful but slightly over the top retribution from Lily. Mouse and Lily seemed very comfortable with each other, and it was pretty clear they were a lot fonder of each other than either of them really realized. To be honest JoAnne wondered why she'd noticed. Dropping off to sleep was easier than ever. After a few minutes with her vibrator of course. The Third Package When JoAnne woke the next morning, naked as usual, she glanced in the mirror; her little holly leaf was very much edged in gold now; and the hair seemed to be turning a dark green. At least her closet was looking a little more benign this morning; the ever present red jacket, a regular white silk blouse; hardly transparent at all; her now-perpetually-excited nipples poked through, but she was getting used to that. And the skirt was actually just a little shorter than her usual choice. The heels were almost an inch higher than before, but that was a pretty easy trade-off. The shoes, at least, were comfortable. As she strolled into her kitchen, she found Holly, and another incredibly busty elf perched on the counter, looking over a couple of scrolls. Both were drinking coffee from her coffeemaker. "A black elf?" Holly and the new elf looked up at her. The black elf threw her a sharp look. "What, is she racist, too?" Holly shook her head, and held up her scroll. "Nope. Just ignorant." Holly looked over at JoAnne. "Elves aren't born, we're recruited." "From where? "Everywhere. I was recruited in Germany over 900 years ago. Koko here was recruited from Johannesburg about 80 years ago." JoAnne really wanted to know what the hell they were doing in her kitchen, but pushing Holly had proven to be a really bad idea, so she tried to be conversational. "So what's the recruitment profile? I mean you'd have to have some kind of criteria." She looked at the two of them critically for a second. "Cause If I was going to guess, I'd assume it had something to do with having tits like honeydew melons." Koko gave a lopsided grin. "That's part of the 'elf upgrade package.' The Big Guy has a thing for giant knockers, so you lose a little height and gain half dozen cups sizes. They firm up and stick out, too. Gwyneth, our head supervisor, is over 800 years old, and she still has very little sag." She reached up with her hands and jiggled her boobs. "They're really sensitive, too. Definitely worth the trade." "Doesn't that make your back hurt?" Holly laughed. "Christmas Magic, Baby." "The Big Guy is?" "Santa Claus, Pere Noel, Father Christmas. Yep, he's real." "And he likes big knockers. Do you guys, uh?" Koko shook her head, eyes wide. "Nope, He's a one-woman guy, and Lady Winter isn't somebody you'd want to piss off. She doesn't mind skin and jiggle all around him, doesn't mind looking at it, herself. But I'd hate to think what would happen if anyone was stupid enough to go after and seduce him." Holly nodded. "She actually does the upgrades, I think the giant ta-tas are her idea, anyway." She suddenly looked a little serious. "So, anyway; Koko here is from the Legal Oversight office. She's responsible for making sure all the legal criteria are met for this kind of stuff. Christmas Lesson Curses, you know." "She's a lawyer?" Koko stiffened. "Oh? So I can't be a lawyer now?" JoAnne flinched. "No, I mean, I guess, I just never thought of Elves as needing lawyers." Koko relaxed a bit. "We have divisions to do everything: management, logistics, manufacturing, recruiting, and, of course; the elves who go out and spread Christmas cheer, the 'Jingle Girls,' that's by far our biggest division." Holly caught Jo's eye. "She has to make sure that I'm not misusing power, make sure you deserved the curse. All that kind of stuff." There was an almost pleading look in her eye. Koko nodded, sipping her coffee and picking up a scroll from the counter. "Somebody, who I won't name, but who's initials are 'Holly Mistletoe' is kind of sloppy with paperwork and has gotten her ass in trouble before; for overreacting. In fact, she's on probation. One more misuse and she's back in the toy factory, putting eyes in those creepy little dolls." Holly shuddered. Jo shrugged. "So what do you need to know?" "Okay. Let's see. Were you knowingly and deliberately rude to her, contrary to the Spirit of Christmas?" "Yeah, I kinda was. More than 'kinda.' I knocked her on her ass." "On purpose?" "I don't know. More, not giving a shit." Koko's eyes slid sideways accusingly towards Holly, who looked a little stricken. Jo suddenly felt a little sorry for Holly, even though she'd started this whole thing. "Oh yeah, I did tell her to 'Fuck off.' Twice. And definitely I meant that. I tried to get her thrown out of the restaurant." She saw relief cross Holly's face. Koko looked placated. "Okay. So let's see if the response was appropriate;” Koko scanned the scroll. "Maybe a little over the top, but not too much. No permanent damage or anything. Not like that sheep incident in Scotland." Holly suppressed a snicker and Koko glared at her. "It wasn't funny, you know. A whole country gets a bad reputation because some drunk highlander pinched your ass without your permission." She looked over at JoAnne. "Have you learned your lesson?" "Yes. I think I have. I'll sure as hell remember this, for the rest of my life." "Okay then, we can go ahead and turn it off." JoAnne thought fleetingly of Mouse and Lillian. "Wait, doesn't it end at midnight tonight anyway? Until Midnight of Christmas Eve and all that?" Koko looked a little confused. "Well, yes, but it isn't necessary to continue; you're clearly contrite;” "No, it's okay, I don't want to put you guys through any trouble or anything. I've made it so far, I'll make it through the day." Koko shrugged, but JoAnne thought Holly looked a bit smug as the two of them disappeared with that bizarre reverse popping sound. Alone. Unfortunately for JoAnne, Lily had called to say she would be out; her car had broken down. Just as bad, when JoAnne made up an excuse to call down to Tech Support to "ask Mouse a question about this video upgrade," she'd been told that Mouse had called out to go help someone whose car had broken down. Obviously Lily. JoAnne reflected that the two of them seemed to be a little more than just a couple friends who slept together once in a while. In a way, she wished Lily had called her for help instead of Mouse. She lasted only half the day in the nearly deserted office. Everyone had taken Christmas Eve off, and she could have sprinted through the building, naked; and not run into anyone. By noon, only she and the old man at the security desk, were left. Grumbling, she walked out of the building, and started home. Nobody to care for, nobody to visit. As she walked past a still-open jewelry store, she noticed charm necklaces proudly displayed. Not very expensive things; just little gold charms. But one design was a little cartoon mouse; and one of the others was a lily. After a flash of inspiration, she walked down the street to a metro delivery service, filled out the forms, and paid a ridiculous fee to have the necklaces delivered by tonight. With a self-satisfied smile, she sent the mouse necklace to Lily and the lily necklace to Mouse, along with a note that she hoped they had a wonderful Christmas. At 6pm, tired of waiting for the ‘shoe to drop’, and more than a little disappointed, JoAnne took a relaxing shower. Afterward she dried and wore her very expensive white plush bathrobe. She pulled a bottle of chilled white wine out of her walk-in wine cellar, and put it on the counter. Her earlier joy at finding the right gifts for Lily and Mouse, was fast-fading, and in the back of her mind, she was seriously considering drinking enough wine to pass out, for the first time since college. That is, until she heard a knock on her Penthouse apartment door. That in itself should have been impossible; nobody entered the building without being rung up in the first place. She walked over and looked out the peephole. The bike messenger. She smiled to herself, feeling a surge of lust. "Holly, you clever, sneaky little bitch." She untied and tossed her robe over on the easy chair, and threw the door open with a smile. "Just what I was waiting for! Come on in." Three faces stared at her in shock. Well, two were in shock; the third was starting a knowing grin. She looked from face to face to face, stunned. The Bike Messenger. An identical Bike Messenger. And yet another twin Bike Messenger. "Triplets? Identical Triplets." The grinning one stepped in, pulling the other two with him. "I'm Derrick, this is Devlin and that is Darwin. We operate Triple D Messenger Service." The one he'd called Devlin, stared at her for a second, then blinked and shook his head. "You dropped off a couple packages to be delivered and the addresses got smeared." He held up the packages for Lily and Mouse. "Since we had deliveries in this building we figured we'd drop by and get;” his voice trailed off as Joann reached over and grabbed his shirtfront and Darwin's arm, and began dragging them towards the living room. "I really hope you three don't have anywhere to be for the next couple of hours." She felt Derrick's hands slide up her bare body, to cup her tits, and Darwin started kissing her deeply. An hour later, moaning her way through yet another shivering orgasm, she noticed movement in the doorway. Lily and Mouse, both in long winter coats watched; open-mouthed from the doorway. Each one was clutching a wine box with a bow on it. She pulled her mouth off the head of the cock she'd been happily sucking on. Darwin, or was it Derrick; looked over at them, then back down at JoAnne. "You need to get that lock looked at." "Come in and close the door." Mouse looked at her wide-eyed, then at the men stroking in and out of JoAnne. "Miss Jo, you look a little; busy, maybe we should go." "Well; I think maybe 'Miss I-Get-Wet-and-Finger-Myself-Whenever-the-Bike-Messenger-Comes-Through'; and 'Miss I-Want-to-Take-a-Bite-of-His-Ass'; should lose their clothes and give me a hand before I suffocate. This whole 'airtight' thing is fun at first, but a girl needs to be able to breathe." Lily and Mouse exchanged looks and giggled as they dropped their coats. The only thing either one was wearing was their shoes. As the men slowly let her loose, JoAnne said. "Mouse, Lily, this is Derrick, Devlin and Darwin of Triple D Messenger Service." Lily reached out and grabbed the nearest cock. "Dibs on Devlin." "Um, actually, I'm Darwin;” "Yeah, whatever. Just get that rock hard ass and phallus over here." The one nearest Mouse smiled at her. "I'm;” Mouse solemnly cut him off, grabbing his hard shaft and leading him over towards an easy chair. "Don't care. You name wasn't the important part of my recurring fantasy." JoAnne looked at the remaining brother. Whatever his name was. "Thank God! Now I can move how I want to." It was another hour before they paused. While the guys recovered, JoAnne gave the charm necklaces to Mouse and Lily and watched their smiles light up. Especially when they realized who got which necklace. Mouse reached over and pulled Jo and Lily into a hug. "You guys are the best!" Lily grabbed the wine boxes, handing one to Mouse. "We got you gifts too." Mouse opened the box with a crazy mousey leer, pulling out an enormous strap-on, while Lily did the same. Her grin wasn't as mousey, but the leer was just as crazy. They began strapping them on, and over their shoulders, JoAnne could see the guys' hard-ons returning already. "Holly Mistletoe. Holly Mistletoe. Holly Mistletoe!" Everything froze with a snap. Holly, her elf cap askew, was standing in the middle of the room. She looked around at the three buff bike messengers, who'd just been starting to get up, then at Lily and Mouse, frozen with their giant strap-ons at the ready and lust-filled eyes. "Wow. I'm impressed. Helluva party." "It's getting a little wild." "Okay, you definitely need help. Do you want me to make them go to sleep, send some home, send all of them home?" "Oh, no. Don't do that." Holly looked around. "Then what?" "I wasn't really calling for help. I just figured, that if you weren't busy you might want to; you know." "Join in?" Holly looked at her disbelievingly. JoAnne shrugged. "Sorry, I just thought you might want a little fun. But I guess being an Elf on Christmas Eve, you're probably busy." Holly looked over at the three guys and grinned. "Fuck it, the team up north can get by without me." "How are you going to get them to not freak out when you just show up, I doubt all of them believe in Christmas Magic?" "The magic of Pizza. Everybody believes in pizza." A sudden snap with that strange reverse-popping sound and everyone was in motion again. Just as they had her encircled, there was a loud knock and the door popped open. Holly, in a ridiculously tight, red and white, cleavage-baring parody of a pizza delivery costume was standing at the door, holding a two huge pizza boxes. "Pizza delivery! For Miss Jo Steadmann. Looks like a 'Crowd Pleaser Combo', One 'Double Sweet and Spicy' and one extra-large, extra-hot Triple Sausage. Lily shook her head. "You really need to get that lock looked at." Holly looked around, as if seeing everything for the first time, and her eyes widened. "Oh, triplets!" Trio Times. Jo relaxed dreamily, eyes closed, laying on her side on her bed as Mouse and Lily thrust slowly, gently, in and out of her in perfect rhythm. Their legs were tangled together. Lily, behind her, and Mouse, in front, used their hands to hold JoAnne’s upper leg up at the knee, while they both kissed and nibbled her neck. She listened to far more intense noises from the next room. Somewhere around midnight, Holly had finally dragged the three bike messengers off with a lascivious grin. JoAnne didn't have to make any effort, just enjoyed the sensations, the slow build until a last, slow wave of orgasm slid through her. As she opened her eyes, she realized that Lily and Mouse were gently kissing each other, the golden charms on their necklaces tapping together, making tiny bell-like sounds, while the two of them looked into each other's eyes as if they were in a world all their own. Walking Funny. The next morning, JoAnne slipped quietly off the bed; Lillian and Mouse were nestled together on the other side. Mouse was snoring quietly, little, squeaky contented sounds. It was clear, just from the way they were holding each other; that they had crossed from occasional Friends with Benefits, to something much more serious, and that made JoAnne smile a little. Holly was sitting lazily, in one of the easy chairs, dressed in one of JoAnne's robes. She raised a mug up. "The boys had to leave, remembered they had a Christmas family thing. That's good, 'cause I'm gonna walk funny for a few days. Damn, they had some serious stamina. Must be all that bike riding. Hey, I've got some hot chocolate for you on the counter." JoAnne raised the steaming mug off the counter. "I thought you'd be busy today." "No, Christmas Day is a pretty quiet day for me, just a couple things to do." She waved at the penthouse apartment. "Is this worth it? Your job, I mean, it obviously makes a shit-ton of money, but it seems pretty stressful." "I thought so, but honestly, over the last few days, I've had more fun than I can remember." She paused. "I could work my ass off for the rest of my life and it would never get me what Lily and Mouse have." "I saw that too, they just didn't realize it until last night. They just figured out that they're a forever couple, I could see it in their eyes last night. You saw it before they did, didn't you?" They both love men, a lot. But they’ll have to be men who don’t mind the Sapphic dimensions in the two women’s lives. JoAnne nodded. "I even kind of gave a hint to them." She told Holly about the necklaces, realizing that the whole thought that she wasn't going to get something; she'd never even thought of wanting, was depressing. JoAnne decided to change the subject. "So, do you like your job?" "It's amazing. I get to travel all over the world, all the time. And I really am the best at it." "I can tell, last night was insane, you outdid yourself." “But I want more from life than career affirmation. I want a meaningful and fun relationship with someone who appreciates who I am. This corporation will never be able to give me those things.” “Did you know that Triple D is conducting a search for a logistics administrator? Derrick is conduction interviews, starting tomorrow. They’ve been offered metro area contracts from a global overnight delivery leader, and they’ll need a very competent administrator. It sounds custom-made for one JoAnne Steadmann?” “Derrick and I had fantastic chemistry, a couple days ago, and again last night. But will Derrick and I be compatible, I mean, after the curse wears off?” Holly shook her head. "The curse ended at Midnight. Since we operate all over the world, all our stuff is set to work on Greenwich mean time, so that'd be about 6PM yesterday, here." "So what was last night?" "That was all you; and, let me tell you, you are one crazy, horny, bitch. You just needed to be unleashed." "Oh. My. God. I thought that was part of your 'spreading Christmas cheer' job." Holly leaned back grinning. "That's a blast, one of the best jobs out there; but I'm not a Jingle Girl, that's not what I do. I just did a courtesy check, on my own time. Gawd, woman! You sure know how to host a shagging party!" "Well, what do you do?" Holly put the mug down on the small table next to her and pulled a scroll out of the thin air and unrolled it, then held a quill pen out to JoAnne, arching an eyebrow. "I'm in Recruiting. If you weren’t interested in settling down with a local guy, I’d be earnestly pitching a career option with lots of travel and opportunities unbounded.” Based on a post by Todd 1 72, in 2 parts.