Chapter 37: Surviving Christmas

The dawning of Christmas morning found the two of us tangled with each other as sleep gradually left us. She was laying partly on top of me, her hair splayed across my chest, and I could feel a little wet spot where she had likely drooled in her sleep again. I was debating about the best and most fun-filled way to wake her when she gave a little start and rolled around a bit, then lifted her head.

Her eyes found mine, and she smiled, then stretched her neck a little to reach my lips. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, my little present."

She scrunched her face in puzzlement. "Little present?"

I kissed her on the tip of her wrinkled up nose. "Having been without you for too much of this past week, it struck me that all I really want for Christmas is you, like this, in my arms."

She raised an eyebrow. "And the naked part doesn't enter into it?"

"That is the wrapping on the present, or I suppose, somewhat more correctly, the lack of wrapping. What counts, more so than the wrapping, is whether or not I get to play with the present." I rolled her onto her back, and started kissing my way down her body.

"Have I told you lately that you're an idiot? Oh ... never mind ... just keep doing that ... hmm..."

By now my tongue was flicking lightly over the very tip of her clit as I used a thumb to pull her hood back out of the way, exposing the little pearl to the attack. After waking up the little bud, I worked my way down through her labia, and ended by driving my tongue deeply into her. My Christmas surprise was evident as my taste buds were flooded with peppermint instead of her usual flavour.

I lifted my head and grinned at her, remembering her brief absence with Clara. "Now I know what you and Clara were up to last night, and why you looked guilty."

She grinned a little ruefully, and blushed a bit, then grabbed my hair to push my head back down. "That damn Clara. She made me promise to put a piece of candy cane inside me again to remind you of last Christmas. She really wanted to paint me again, but there just wasn't any time." Her explanation trailed off into a deep moan as I lowered my head and sucked her clit between my lips and then worked my way down to her vagina, trying to get as much of the residual peppermint as possible.

As I alternated between her opening and her clit, I felt her starting to pant and then she grabbed a pillow to hold over her face. The orgasm slammed into her and she yelled her release, fortunately muffled by the pillow. The bed creaked as her hips bounced up and down. I rode it with her, maintaining contact with all of her tasty parts until she calmed and put a hand on my head, pushing me away from her.

I moved up to take her in my arms, licking my lips and then using them to kiss her soundly. She giggled and broke the kiss. "I do taste minty fresh, don't I?" Her look hardened as she said, "And don't you make any floss and mouthwash jokes either."

I laughed at the memory, and pulled her in for a kiss again. "No, dear. I won't, but you do taste very good. Now I think we should hit the shower, because my Mom likes to make a special Christmas breakfast, and there are other presents to unwrap."

"But what about you? You haven't..."

"Not to worry. My evil plan was to bend you over in the shower, and take care of both of us."

She giggled and in a little girl voice, said, "Oh, help me, help me! The evil brute is going to abuse me and do nasty things to my body..."

As I bent over to pick her up and lift her out of the bed, I growled, "Damn right! And I'm going to enjoy it, too." She struggled as I carried her to the bathroom, but not too much, as I knew she wanted what was going to happen.

When the water was running at a good temperature, I set her down under the spray and started soaping her up. She quickly got into the act, and soon we were both hot for each other, kissing and caressing and stroking, and generally doing our best to arouse each other. As I turned her to bring her back to my front, I grabbed a facecloth and wrung it out, then rolled it tightly into a cylinder.

I put a hand on her shoulder to start bending her over, and brought the facecloth to her mouth, pressing it between her lips. "Bite down on this. You need a gag." A second or two later I positioned my cock at her opening, and slid into her in one stroke. The gag didn't block her moans, but I was fairly certain it would cover any yelling or screaming she might do.

I knew we didn't have a lot of time, or my mother was likely to come knocking on the door of my room. Once I was fully seated in her depths, I grabbed both of her hips and started pulling back, then driving forward quickly. The slap of my hips against her ass was met with a grunt from her, but with her jaws clenched on the facecloth, not much noise came through.

I started using my grip on her to both push her away and pull her back, at the same time as my hips worked back and forth. This was going to be more like a quickie than a session of love-making, but neither of us would really notice the difference, since the goal was an orgasm rather than an extended bout of pleasure.

In no more than a few minutes I started to feel the tremors of my orgasm; I could feel her grunting with every inward stroke and doing her best to pant with her mouth blocked. I bent over her and squeezed both of her breasts quite firmly, then moved one hand to her clit just as I felt the cum begin to rise up my shaft. I clamped her clit between two fingers, and she did start to scream as her orgasm arrived. The facecloth soaked up all of the loud noises, so I didn't hear much, but I could feel her internal muscles on my cock, enhancing my pleasure as the jets of cum kept shooting out of me.

I held her up as she went limp, then straightened her to lean back against me until she had recovered. My half-hard cock slipped out of her, and she lifted a hand to take the facecloth out of her mouth. She turned and faced me, then kissed me softly. "Thank you. That was just what I needed."

"Good, 'cause you don't get any more until we get breakfast and open our presents."

"Oh, are you planning to unwrap me again after that?" Her smile and the expression on her face combined to make me lean into her and kiss her again.

"Maybe. It depends on whether you're a good girl. For now, though, we need to finish before the hot water runs out." She smiled dreamily, then picked up the soap and started to caress my chest. I took it from her long enough to work up a lather in my hands, and we both went to work on the other, caressing and fondling as best we could.

When we got into the kitchen, my mother was laying out stacks of pancakes, plates of eggs, hash browns, bacon, and ham to go with the glasses of juice and the pot of coffee. She looked up as we entered, seeing the glow on our faces, and our damp hair. "Okay, that explains the extra towels and the higher water bills we used to have after you two linked up." I coughed to cover my nervousness, and I saw my fiancée's face go deep red as she blushed in embarrassment.

When my mother saw her reaction, she stepped up to her and wrapped her in a hug. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I know how much you two love each other, and frankly I love to have sex in the shower, too."

I couldn't resist the automatic reaction of every teenager to hearing such things about his parents. "Eeww. Parents don't have sex, and children don't want to know about it if they do. Too much information."

My mother kissed my love on the forehead, and stepped back, then looked at her. "You have my permission to smack him a few times. I've even got a wooden spoon around here somewhere if you want to use that."

"It's okay. I'll make sure he pays for it later, don't worry." She stuck her tongue out at me, but her eyes were flashing with mirth as she came over to sit beside me.

The rest of the morning was a rush of eating, exchanging gifts, laughing at everyone's comments and antics, and starting the preparations for Christmas dinner. Our parents had a long-standing tradition of alternating the celebration between houses, and this year it was her parents turn to host. My parents were contributing the wine, and the desserts, so my mother was doing some last-minute cooking and baking.

In the middle of the afternoon my love and I went next door to see if her mother needed any help in the kitchen, and to deal with the exchange of gifts with her family. While her father and I got along extremely well, and I liked his sense of humour, I kept getting a strange vibe from her mother. I couldn't put a finger on it; outwardly she was very friendly and open with me, but I still felt an undercurrent of ... something.

At one point, we had all ended up in the kitchen, as my love was helping with some of the cooking, and I was being employed to fetch serving dishes and platters, and other accoutrements. Her Dad had drifted in to pour himself a cup of coffee. The conversation between the two women seemed to be a little stilted, and I wondered what had happened before I came into the room.

Finally, my love put her hands on the counter and said, "Mom, I know there's something on your mind, so just say whatever it is."

Her mother didn't react at first. She just stopped stirring the pot she was leaning over, then without looking up, she quietly said, "You know that you could be staying here, the two of you." Something told me that this was the big issue—why I was getting treated a little stiffly, and why she and her mother weren't getting along the way they always used to.

"I wasn't getting the impression that he was welcome to be in my bed. I even had to move out to be with him, and we live together when we're not at home."

Her mother hesitated, and a somber expression came over her face. "I ... I made a mistake, and I'm sorry. I was excited about having my little girl home again, and shopping for her wedding dress, and I didn't think about how you've been living since you've been away." Her mother came over to her, and put her hands on my love's shoulders. "Will you forgive me for being stupid?" My love pulled her into a hug, and they stood like that for a long moment.

When they parted, my fiancée looked at her mother and said, "You know if he sleeps here we're going to have sex. We've never actually had sex in my bed; it was always in his."

I piped up at that point. "I've suggested it on several occasions, but she always shot me down for some reason." I had a big grin on my face, but the look her mother gave me caused it to melt away.

I also noticed the large wooden spoon that she was holding just as her Dad spoke up. "You might want to move out of range, son. She's pretty deadly with that spoon, and you're a little close right now."

My fiancée moved between her mother and me, and said, "You actually made the offer the night we told you we were engaged. You told us you would have provided the opportunity for us to have sex. If we stay here, then you have to live up to that offer."

Her mother was silent for a few seconds, then she lifted her head to look her daughter in the eye. "You're right, and I know it. I'm just having some trouble getting used to the fact that my baby is growing up. You've moved away, you live with someone, you have new friends, and next summer you'll be married."

She took her mother in her arms and hugged her tightly. "It's okay, Mom. I'm not running away. I'll always be your little girl. I'm just the little bird leaving the nest and learning to fly on her own."

I saw tears on both faces, then her mother stepped back and wiped her eyes with a dish towel. "I know, I know, and one day I'll accept it. But you brought home another bird, and he's nowhere near as pretty as you."

It was starting to feel like some of the tension was leaving the room when my love laughed, and said, "Yeah, I know. But he was close by and easy to snag, even if it did mean lowering my standards." She giggled at the hurt look on my face, and came over to wrap her arms around me and kiss me. She looked back at her mother and asked, "So, are we good?"

Her mother's look softened, and I could see the love in her eyes for her daughter. "Yes, we are. The two of you can stay here, and I'll do my best to ignore any noises I hear coming from your room."

Impishly, my love said, "Earplugs work well, or in a pinch, a little cotton stuffed in your ears. We can always move the bed so it doesn't bang on the wall."

I looked toward her mother and said, "I'd be happy to spank her if you'd like. After all, you did give me your permission on prom night."

"Yes, I did. And I might even be willing to lend you my wooden spoon so you won't hurt your hand." She and I burst into laughter at the look on my love's face, and I knew that the balance in her family had been restored.

The rest of the day flowed smoothly, and was filled with laughter and fun and love. The arrival of my parents added to the mix in a pleasant way. For the first time, I found myself sitting back for a moment and simply observing the friendship, and goodwill, and love that filled the room. I wondered if, perhaps, this might be a portent of our lives, decades from now. Would we be sitting in a room with close friends, and children, and sharing the same kind of laughter and love?

I was sitting beside my fiancée, and impulsively wrapped an arm around her, pulling her tightly to my side. When she looked at me I mouthed, "I love you," which made her smile even as she looked at me a little quizzically. I think my mother noticed, because I saw her reach a hand out to my father and clasp his tightly for a moment. I saw him give her a lingering look, and a private smile, and I hoped that I would still look at my love that way in twenty years.

Deciding that being maudlin on Christmas was not a good thing, I stood up and went to the kitchen to retrieve a couple of beers for the two of us. Bent over, and reaching into the back of the fridge, I was powerless to stop the hand that closed on my groin and squeezed, then moved to my stiffening cock and massaged its length. I had avoided standing up in surprise, so I spared myself a nasty knock to the head, but I still flinched when it happened. The giggle that ensued at least told me who it was, so I wasn't about to find out that one of the mothers was groping me.

I backed up and turned and her hand followed around my hip to come back to rest on my cock, giving it another squeeze. I could see the laughter in her eyes and the impish grin on her face, and I knew that I loved her even more. I held the bottles of beer out to one side, and used my other hand to pull her head toward me so I could kiss her. She stepped in closer, and I felt her breasts flatten against my chest. Her hand stayed between us, still holding me, and I finally pulled back enough to look into her eyes and ask, "Is there something you wanted?"

The sultry look on her face answered my question in its entirety, but she needlessly added, "You. Naked. With this..." Another tight squeeze. " ... inside me. Pounding me ... hard."

"Here and now? Or later, in bed?"

"If this were our kitchen, it would definitely be 'here and now' but I don't think my mother would like it."

"What is it that you don't think I'd like?" Her mother had entered the kitchen without either of us noticing. I nearly dropped the bottles of beer when I heard her voice, but my fiancée didn't even release her grip on my penis; it did rapidly soften with my shock, though.

Without missing a beat, my love said, "I was just telling him that you probably wouldn't like it if you were to find us having sex on the kitchen counter." I wondered about what seemed to be her need to goad her mother, especially about us having sex.

Her mother was at the stove checking the contents of a pot as she replied. "Well, certainly not with all that food laid out on it. You'll have to wait until later, after everything's cleaned up."

We both gaped in surprise at her comment, and especially in the nonchalant manner in which it was delivered. Her mother turned back from the stove to see us, and started chuckling at our expressions. My love finally got her wits about her enough to ask, "Where is my real mother, and what have you done with her?"

Her mother stepped over and laid an arm across her shoulders. "What do you think your father and I did when we first bought this house? We christened every room in it. I would be willing to bet that you weren't conceived in our bedroom." She grinned at the shocked expression on her daughter's face, and looked down along the line of her arm. "You might also want to let go of the poor boy's dick and give it a chance to go down before supper." She moved over to the counter and started filling a plate with chopped vegetables.

I made a gagging noise in my throat as I tried to say something, and my love blushed a shade of red that I had never seen on her. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound was coming out. Her head turned to follow her mother around the kitchen, but her hand was still holding me tightly by the penis.

I decided to take some control of the situation, and stretched out to place the bottles on the counter, then gripped her by the shoulders. I moved her back from me a bit, and her hand finally released me, then I turned her to face her mother as she finally began to speak, although her first words came out in a shriek.