Stories in this contest can be based around any winter holiday, or even just end-of-the-year festive nostalgia and atmosphere.
This story could be in any of a number of categories. As the sun sets in the west, this is a love story, so I chose this category.
Fair warning. My proofreader, always bubbly and cheerful, simply replied 'Damn you, I cried!'
Please read my profile for my stance on feedback. Feel free to email suggestions or start a conversation. Private messages work too.
Randy Meisner: "I was thinking, about a woman, who might have loved me, and I never knew."
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My name is John Samuel Pickwick. I'll turn twenty seven next spring. Only my Grandma and wife call me Johnny. My dad, Robert, did too when he was alive. I'm not sure why I'm John, but Samuel was my grandfather's name.
Grandpa fell ill last year and died of a heart attack while he slept. I was very close to him. He had been helping me trying to fix his grandfather's grandfather clock. It still doesn't work but it sits in my living room looking stately. It is so old we finally had to give up attempting to fix the clock. We realized we would need to custom make the broken part. It's on my to-do list.
My parents were born on the exact same day. In one of life's odd coincidences, they died on the same day, twenty two years apart. My mother, Evelyn, was twenty two when she died. Since I was only a few months old at the time, I don't remember a thing about her. Nobody ever spoke about her. Dad died on a deserted stretch of highway. His car left the road and went flying into a tree. He was under the influence but not drunk. They think he may have fallen asleep since there were no skid marks. They were never able to pinpoint why he was on that highway.
My dad, Grandma, and Grandpa raised me at Grandma's place until I was eight. Once dad had finally saved enough, he bought his own place. That's where I still live. The house is your typical suburban setting. It's one of those cookie cutter developments where every third house repeats.
Dad died four years ago, while I was away at college. He was a troubled soul. Dad wasn't prone to say 'I love you', but he would always track me down and give me a nice hug when he got home from work. I can't remember one day when I didn't smell a little whiskey on his breath. However, we never had a single bottle of alcohol in the house. Even though he spent a lot of time at his favorite pub, I really don't think he had a drinking problem. His picture is still on the walls in the pub for each of the years he was the darts champion.
Dad drove a delivery truck and knew just about everyone in town. When he was sick, the neighbors would drop by with soup and elixirs. Dad didn't believe in pain medication so the 'witches brews', as he called them, were the only thing he would take for his ailments. I was not so lucky. If I got sick or was feeling pain he'd whisk me off to the doctor for a shot in my butt. I learned not to complain. Dad loved playing rugby, and I do too. As rough as rugby is, if I complained about an injury he would tease me.
"Let me know what size dress I need to get you Joan."
I don't ever remember us hosting a party. Dad was a loner and had a very small circle of friends. It was unusual for him to date, and rare to date the same women a second time. The attempts to set him up on dates were fruitless.
When dad died Grandma paid for a nice headstone.
"Robert Pickwick -- Evelyn Pickwick
Loving parents of John Samuel Pickwick"
I had never been to my mom's grave until dad was buried.
My degree is in civil engineering. I work for the city on road improvement projects. I really didn't set out to work on roads but was inspired by a few presentations, when I was a college sophomore, at the career day's showcase. I did an internship with the city between my junior and senior years. The timing was perfect as one of the old timers was retiring about the time I graduated.
I married my high school sweetheart, Mary Ann, and we have a four month old son who we've named Robert Samuel.
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Mary Ann and I were 'going steady' throughout high school. I messed us up by fucking the girl who was letting everyone screw her. You know how high school boys are, afraid they are going to die a virgin. There were lots of tears. Since I was headed off to college, and Mary Ann wasn't, we just split. We'd say 'Hi' when we ran into each other around the holidays and summer breaks.
I moved home, after I graduated, and about a week later found Mary Ann on my porch.
"I'd still like to see if we have any magic left. That is, if a college boy like you has settled down."
We started the slow process of reconciliation. I learned that Mary Ann had her own place in town. Her father had accepted a job a few hours away. Her parents moved shortly after Mary Ann graduated from high school. Mary Ann was working as a bookkeeper for an apparel shop downtown.
It was pretty clear, after a few dates, that there was definitely good chemistry. She wasn't a virgin, and at college I found myself on the floor more than a few times. We never talked about the details. It was in the past.
All the groundwork had been laid when we were in high school. Our courtship was under six months before I asked her to marry me. We waited a few years before deciding to start a family. Mary Ann worked until ten days before she delivered.
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I'm your typical six foot, two hundred pound, out of shape guy. Mary Ann is petite, at around five foot even, and barely one hundred pounds. Her tits are like little pancakes with a raisin on top. Mary Ann is athletic and, being so light, she spins when she rides me cowgirl style.
I'd never experienced that and boy did I like it. Up and down about five times then with just a little help from me she would spin ninety degrees and give me five more. I rarely lasted five times around. If I did I earned a blow job. If I didn't make it around three times, I owed her an oral treat. She's a tiger in the bedroom, and I'm not denied anything. It isn't what you have, it's how you use it.
One of her favorite role play things is for me to sneak up on her in the kitchen, pin her to the counter. I disguise my voice, in a low growl, while I maul her nipples. I can't quite call it a rape fantasy. It's more like a rag doll submissive slave thing. I pick her up and place her face down on the kitchen table where I drill her dripping pussy. On more than a few occasions she has an orgasm.
That little treat was put on hold when Mary Ann became pregnant. As her due date drew near, she looked like a water balloon with legs. She hated the way she looked, and couldn't understand how I could possibly love her when she was so bloated. There was nothing I could say to calm her fears, as she was being ravaged by her hormones. My engineering degree had not prepared me on how to soothe her fragile mindset.
Robert Samuel has me wrapped around his little fingers. I'd do just about anything for him. Mary Ann really enjoys being a mother. We've already planned an addition to the family once Robert's first birthday rolls around. I make enough with my job to easily afford our lifestyle.
Mary Ann is quite self-conscious about her figure. She'd love to have bigger boobs. Since she's breast feeding, they're oversized right now.
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There's a guy in the neighborhood that seems to hang around our place. Charlie is fresh out of high school, and doing grunt work when he can find it. He is always asking if we have any tasks he could perform. I find him a little creepy. He's a very big guy at around six five and two fifty.
It was about a week before Christmas when our marriage took a big hit. I arrived home to find Mary Ann sitting on the couch and crying.
"I'm sorry Johnny. I didn't mean for it to happen. I'm sorry Johnny."
"Mary Ann, what are you sorry about? Tell me what happened."
Sobbing while she spoke "I was unloading groceries and one of the bags ripped. Charlie was nearby and started helping me pick things up. Even though I told him I could finish, he carried a few bags into the kitchen. When I turned my back he pinned me to the counter. He said the same things that you do when we play that game. I think he's been peeping on us. I just locked up. I was scared and confused, but couldn't speak. Just like you would do, he put me face down on the kitchen table and I felt his cock enter my pussy. He pumped for a few times and came in me."
"Was it rape? Did you cum too?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't say anything. No, I did not cum. It happened so fast. I was scared."
"You didn't answer me. Was it rape?"
Mary Ann didn't answer. She shook her head NO.
"That's just great. Anytime you get scared you're just going to drop your panties and let strangers fuck you?"
"Johnny, no, it wasn't like that at all. I didn't know what to do, I just froze."
"How about screaming and kicking and scratching, none of those came to mind?"
"Johnny, it was a mistake, I should have done all of those things. I love you. Please don't hate me."
"Why'd you stop fucking him? How many hours did you two have fun?"
