WARNING: Mind-altering drugs play a part in this story. In this story, the experience is totally benign and uplifting, just as the sex is. But if the subject matter is not your cup of tea, please look elsewhere.
Let's see. When I left you all, Jeff was fucking Jessie, Sara was fucking Ellie, and I was fucking Paul. And that only got us up to Christmas Eve. Then it really got strange.
When I woke up on Christmas morning, with Paul still nestled in my arms asleep, I slipped out of the sofa-bed to pee. I was in the bathroom when I heard a door open down the hall. I went back into the living room, but there was a change ... there was Jessie stretched out on the old couch. She looked up at me sleepily.
"Is everything OK with you and Jeff?" I asked.
She smiled. "It's fine. But he wants you now. I heard you get up and go to the bathroom, so I figured that I'd leave him to you."
"Can I get you a blanket?"
So I went into the linen closet, fetched another blanket, tucked Jessie in, and kissed her on the forehead. She smiled again and closed her eyes, so I left her and slipped into the bed next to Jeff.
"Come here, Emily. Let me hug you Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas yourself! How did it go?"
"Well, not the way I expected. We got it on, but then we both kind of lost interest. You know, it was one of those one-night-stand things, like she was thinking. 'Look, I need you and you need me. Let's do it and get it over with.' But afterwards, she didn't want to fuck any more. I asked her if everything was OK, and she said 'Yeah. The sex was good. But I've decided that I don't want to be your lover after all. I want to be your kid sister.'
"So we lay there for a long time, talking about growing up in the old house as kids, when we last slept in the same room. I must have been nine, and she was seven. She'd crawl into my bed on Christmas Eve, and we'd talk about what Santa Claus would bring us. It was so sweet. And last night, it was like she was that kid sister again. I tried to put the moves on her a second time, but she kissed me and said, 'No, dear.' So we just held each other for a long time, and then we drifted off to sleep."
"Did you tell her that you wanted me here?"
"No. But I think she knew. She knew I needed some more pussy, but she knows that you're the one to give it to me, not her."
And I did. We made slow, sweet love, everything at half speed, and when he climaxed and relaxed, he held me very, very tight. "That's what the difference is," he murmured.
"What difference?" I said lazily.
"When I made it with her, there was lust, and then I came, and it was over. But with you, I just want it to go on and on. I want to crawl right up inside you. I don't ever want to let you go again."
I smiled. "I feel the same way. I love you so much, Jeff."
"Emily, I'm going to make you a promise, right now. For the next two years, I promise that I will make no plans that don't include you."
"Are you serious?"
"Is that a marriage proposal?"
He chuckled. "No, but it's close. It's like 'engaged to be engaged.' But I'm serious."
"Then I'll make the same promise. For starts, I'd like to apply to Stanford for graduate school. Or maybe UC Berkeley. It's got a great engineering department, too."
"Oh, Emily. I'd like that so much. We wouldn't have a half a continent between us."
"And I'd still let you fuck Elly."
"And I'll still let you fuck Elly, too," he laughed. "Not that I'd stand a chance of breaking you two apart!"
"Jeff, you've just given me the best Christmas present ever! I love you, I love you, I love you..." And I peppered him with kisses, and that turned into more lovemaking. I blew him to get him hard again, and realized with a start that I was tasting Jessie on him as well as me. That got me thinking about her titties, and soon I was as aroused as Jeff was. "You know," I said as he slid into me, "was Jessie hot in bed? I mean, when you first started fucking? Did she like having her boobs squeezed?"
"Oh, yeah. She's got really sensitive nipples. Like yours. And like Mom's. Why? Are you thinking of getting it on with her?"
"In my fantasies, maybe. But I don't think she goes that way. She's pretty hetero."
"If there's anybody that can knock her out of that, it would be you and Elly. You girls are sex maniacs!" And we laughed, and then started the old dance again. This time, it was even slower and sweeter, because we both wanted this moment to last forever.
But eventually the smell of brewing coffee and sizzling sausage filled the air, beckoning us to breakfast. When Jeff and I got to the kitchen, the others were already there. Jeff immediately went over to his sister and whispered something in her ear. She reached out and squeezed his hand, whispered something back, and then they exchanged chaste brother-sister kisses on the cheek. There didn't seem to be any hard feelings about last night.
Elly and Sara hadn't showered, and we joked about how they smelled like a brothel, but they told me I wasn't one to talk. They were right, of course!
After breakfast came the flurry of preparing the Christmas dinner. I made some cranberry sauce, which was about the only thing up to my cooking skills. The boys prepared the turkey, and Sara and Elly made some apple pies from scratch. By the time the turkey was in the oven, it was one o'clock, so we got dressed and piled into the car.
The newspaper said that Porter's Pond, in a county park just outside town, had over four inches of ice on it, and Elly was hankering to get some skating in. Jessie loaned her a pair of ice skates which were a half-size too large, but Elly assured us that if she wore a few layers of socks, they'd fit fine. Jeff, Paul and Sara had their own pairs of skates, and Sara loaned me hers, which actually fit pretty well. I'd never ice skated before, but I had some in-line roller skates when I was a kid, and I figured that it couldn't be too much different.
And it wasn't, although I found myself wobbling around a lot, trying to remember how to skate. But Elly! She was a wonder! When she got out to strut her stuff, the rest of us just retired to the park benches that fronted the pond. Soon, the other skaters did, too. It was clear that she needed a lot of room to do her thing, but everybody willingly granted her all the space she needed. They all realized that they were watching a world-class figure skater. As for me, all I could do was watch her with my jaw hanging down to my tits. For her, all the rules of gravity and inertia seemed to be suspended. She literally flew around on the ice, then off it, in high graceful leaps. She'd generate amazing speed, then turn on a dime, or trace slow, graceful loops on the surface of the ice, coasting on one skate while her other leg and her arms were outstretched. And then she'd do the same thing, backwards! I mean, she'd told me that she skated, but damn! I'd seen a lot of figure skating on television during the Olympics, and hers looked every bit as good. She gave us about twenty minutes, and when she stopped, all the spectators gave her a thunderous round of applause, which she accepted with a graceful curtsey and not a shred of surprise. Applause was not a new thing for her.
As for me, there was no way I'd be caught dead on the ice after that. By comparison, I'd look like an ostrich with arthritis. I took off my skates and gave back to Sara. She laced them up and grabbed Jeff's hand, and they took to the ice together, skating as a pair. I looked for Jessie, wondering if she wanted her skates back from Elly so she could skate, too. Then I saw her on one of the picnic table benches, in deep conversation with Paul.
So instead I talked with Elly. She apologized ... apologized! ... for her performance. "The skates weren't comfortable, they didn't really feel secure, and they weren't very sharp, either. And I was holding back because that's natural ice, which is a lot bumpier than the dressed surface of a rink."
"You were ... holding back? Damn, girl! What are you like when you're not holding back? You could be in the Olympics!"
"Maybe ten years ago. In fact, I almost was. But I came down wrong in practice before the trials, and sprained my right ankle pretty badly. The doctor gave me two choices: he could wrap me up and put me on painkillers and let me do the trials, and run the risk of fucking up the ankle for good. Or I could withdraw from the trials and just let it heal. I withdrew. I sometimes wonder if I made the right choice."
"Well, if you'd competed and fucked up the ankle, I'd have never seen what I saw today. You did good." And I hugged her. We watched Jeff and Sara do their thing, and it was obvious that they'd been doing this for years and knew what their partner was expecting. They didn't look like mother and son, but like lovers, and I wondered if Sara was getting that old itch again. Meanwhile, Jessie and Paul continued their conversation in private.
Well, three hours later, we were home and the cranberry sauce was chilled and the turkey was cooked. We added some mashed potatoes with gravy, some broccoli, a salad, and some dinner rolls, put the pies in to bake, and ate like pigs. It was dark by the time we'd finished, and we had a nice long walk around the neighborhood while the pies cooled, to help digest the feast. Then came dessert, some very nice dessert wine, and some even nicer weed.
.... There is more of this story ...