Unwrapping Edith

It was Christmas eve. Around 9 p.m. All through the house, people chatted away near the tree and the roaring fireplace while the children awaited anxiously the signal to attack the gifts. The only thing they were missing was camouflage to match the shaggy green carpet they were lying on. I suddenly wondered if they knew Santa was a 12 year-old living in Thailand.

I was standing in the corner, slowly sipping a snifter full of Bailey's Irish Cream and milk. I was something of a standout in my family: I was thirty, single, and I had a job I actually liked. But at the same time it made the whole holiday experience less than satisfying – pretty much like my sex life for the past year. I sighed quietly as I saw my cousins and other assorted family members making out to the songs of Dean Martin and Bing Crosby. I checked my watch to make sure it was December 24th and smiled. Ah, the holidays.

"Jim," I heard from far away as my aunt cornered me. "Isn't the party grand?"

I smiled as I saw beads of perspiration form on her reddened face. Even pushing sixty, my aunt was still an attractive woman. But she didn't fascinate me the way she used to when I was 10. At the time, she would come to visit my family over the summer and sunbathe while wearing a kind of knitted bikini – it was yellow with links so large I could pretty much see her nipples and her bush. Suddenly, as she pushed her ample bosom into my arm, I felt the old tingle.

"It's great, aunt Leslie," I said as I smelled her hair: Craven A cigarettes. "You look lovely tonight," I added, moving my head slightly back.

"Y'know," she said, staring at me intensely over her glass of red wine, "it's to bad you don't visit me…er, us, anymore. It would be so much fun."

Before I could answer, a rugged hand wrapped itself around her waist. "Don't annoy the boy, Les," my uncle said with a hard scowl.

I raised an eyebrow at the slur. I thought a moment about reminding him how he enjoyed playing tag with 20 year old hookers, but thought better of it. I couldn't do that to my aunt tonight.

"That's okay Brian," I said instead while staring directly at Leslie's bosom. "I've always enjoyed my aunt's… company."

I noticed his fist tightening, but before he could respond Leslie took him aside and scolded him. I smirked and wondered why I had waited 5 years before coming back to attend these family get-togethers. I'd missed the whole dysfunctional aspect of my family.

I was about to leave and mingle when I felt someone tug at my pant leg.

"Hey Alex," I greeted my 8 year old second cousin. "What can I do for you?"

"Is your dad sleeping?"

I looked over my shoulder. "Yes, he is."

"Why is he sleeping under the table?"

"Well, you know… my dad works so hard at the auto plant that when sleep catches up to him, he just has to sleep."

"I thought he was drunk on all the wine, beer, and scotch."

My smile disappeared. "If you knew, why'd you ask?"

"Because I wanted to hear the shitty story you'd tell to cover it up."

I stared at him as he ran away to play, and I swear I didn't hope the tree would fall on him. I shook my head, stepped over my passed-out father and went into the kitchen. I thought about striking up a conversation with my mother, but she was in the zone. Her face was lit up as she meandered among the guests, filling drinks and wiping away stains. Her family was together; some of then might have hated each other, but they were together. I knew I couldn't stop her; if she stopped, the state of her life would smack her back to reality.

I drummed my fingers on the table and decided that what I needed was some air. I grabbed my blue wool-knit overcoat and went outside. There, I paused a moment to look over the small yard. In the moonlight filtered by sparkling, frost covered branches, I saw a small, sleeping garden along an old green fence that had long been captured by dead red vines. Across from the garden was a gazebo; its hexagonal roof softly brushed by heavy branches looming from the old trees that separated the property from a stream that cut through grazing pastures. Even in the coldest winters, the stream would continue to live and progress under a thin sheet of ice, the cry of its defiance heard from cracks caused by the hot and cold cycles of the season. I watched my breath fly away from my mouth, carried by a Northern breeze towards the stream. In this stillness did I find the beauty of Christmas.

I walked around to the front of the house. It was a humble looking collection of red bricks and white aluminum siding, accented by the lovely cover of snow and elongated icicles reaching for the ground; it struck me as comforting and frightening at the same time, made even more so now with addition of the garish Christmas decorations. The pebbles that made up the twisting driveway that led to a small garage behind the house – trapped now between puddles of frozen water -- looked exactly the way they did the last time I was here. But their peaceful demeanor was broken by a number of blinking lights and mechanically bobbing reindeer embracing the patio and the front lawn. My parents' tastes confirmed themselves as Santa Claus sang a pathetic and muted rendition of Jingle Bells.

Moving through the overly packed parking lot, I found my cousin Ben sitting on the patio between two glowing candles.

"Dude," he said, turning his baseball cap backwards. "Why ain't you inside with the rest of our merry brood?"

"Well, they've gone from merry to being drunken idiots." I brushed some snow off the steps and sat next to him.

Ben reached into his nylon windbreaker: "Smoke?"

"No. I quit, thanks."

"Cool."

"Wait," I said. "If I have to spend the whole week… Yeah, I'll take one."

Nodding, he pulled out a cigarette from his small pack and handed it to me. I slipped it between my lips and he lit me up with an engraved Zippo lighter. I took a long drag, anxiously awaiting the bitter strike of the smoke drowning my palate. I coughed roughly instead.

"Woh… I was expecting Marlboro, not Jamaican."

Ben just laughed. "It's local. And hey, we all have our ways of dealing." Then, he took the cigarette from me, closed his eyes, and savored a long drag.

"I'm going for a walk," I said under my breath, going on my way. As I left, I looked over the house one more time and wished them all a merry Christmas.

Strolling in front of all the decorated houses, I savored the sights and the sounds of winter in a small town. I'd spent the last few years in Toronto, and although the city's vibrant interpretation of the holiday was hypnotic, the laid back nature of small communities was as intoxicating.

I was somewhat amazed at how deserted the town seemed; the light snow was filling the few tire tracks left on the street while wiping away any traces of my passage. It felt almost deserted and if it weren't for the smoke rising from chimneys and the colored lights, I could have been the last person left on Earth. However, that thought soon fled; blowing on my hands and cursing the fact I had only picked a pair of thin leather gloves, I started to walk more quickly, darting my head from left to right in search of a place to warm up.

Leaving a stream of visible breath like a train bound for nowhere, I happened upon the lights and inviting warmth of a gas station. I crossed the street quickly, paying no attention to any oncoming traffic – as if there would be any – and hoped as I pulled on the handle. The door gave way with some hesitation, but I was gratified to see the station was open. Slipping inside, I went straight for a stand next to the counter that offered coffee. Fresh coffee. I sipped from my nicely large styrofoam cup; great coffee. Inhaling the warmth, I looked around the aisles in search of the clerk.

Passing in front of the beer-filled refrigerators, I noticed a bobbing silhouette moving towards the door. I stood quietly as a young woman stepped out of the cold environment and headed for the counter, oblivious to my presence and carrying a case of beer cans.

"Hello," I said, the sound of my voice freezing her in her tracks. She slowly turned her head around, giving me a nice view of her brightly colored hair. I noticed that the bright orange wasn't her natural color.

"Uh…Hi?" she said with a slight quiver in her tone. "Have you been here long?"

"No. I just stopped in to get some coffee. It's incredibly chilly outside."

She moved away from me a bit and looked outside. "I'm on foot ," I told her.

She went behind the counter and I was struck by the grace she possessed while carrying the obviously heavy load. I neared counter as well, keeping in mind not to get to close. I didn't want to spook her. As she went about her business, casting me a suspicious glance now and then to keep track of my actions, I realized how lovely she truly was; her features weren't soft, but neither were they overly hard. She looked at me with incredible, crystal-blue eyes set on each side of a straight, yet somehow dramatic nose. Her perfectly heart-shaped mouth was divinely aided by a dark cherry red shade of lipstick. And most lovely of all were the multi-colored sparkles orbiting her eyes on her flawless skin.

I poured myself another cup of coffee and came a bit closer to the counter. She paused and watched me intently; I felt her eyes piercing right through me, in search of my intentions – intentions that were secret even to me. She took a deep breath, stretching the blue uniform that couldn't hide her lovely figure, and I caught a glimpse of her name tag.

"Edith?" I asked suddenly. "Edith Caine?"

Taken aback by my knowledge of her last name, she nodded, and slowly a smile shaped her lips. "Mr. Haven?" she asked.

"Yup." I happily saw that any apprehension she might have had disappeared and was replaced with genuine happiness. "God, Edith! I haven't seen you since I tutored you in English… What?"

"Five years ago. Right before you left."

"You were fifteen then, weren't you?"

"Yes," she said as she moved from behind the counter and came over to me. Somewhat confused, I put my cup to the side and waited. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a remarkably tight and intimate hug. I responded, and I was acutely aware of her presence as the heat from her body escaped her uniform and the scent of expensive shampoo sneaked its way to my nose. "I'm nineteen now," she added suggestively.

"Why the devil are you working on Christmas eve?" I asked as I reluctantly let her go. She moved slightly away from me and hopped onto the counter, expertly keeping her limbs from knocking over any displays.

"My boss had the crazy idea that people would have some last minute shopping to do. But if I count you, I've only had one customer all evening. Thank gawd I close at eleven!"

"I'm surprised you're not with your mom having a big celebration."

She hopped of the counter and took a chocolate bar. "She was already on her second bottle of celebrating when I left for work."

"Oh."

"What about you?" she inquired. "Why aren't you with your family? After all this time…"

"Have you ever been in a crowd and felt totally alone?"

"Uh-hunh."

"That's how it felt tonight."

"Oh."

Edith finished her candy bar and went over to the radio and increased the volume. I watched as nostalgic songs brought a sway to her hips. When she started to glide over the floor, an impulse pushed me to join her. I put a hand on her shoulder and she let me turn her around and take her in my arms. We danced for a few songs, and continued to dance even more closely, pressing our bodies together, trough the commercials.

"I have a suggestion," she whispered to my ear while moving her pert breasts against my chest. "Since we're both pretty much alone tonight, I thought I'd close early and you could spend Christmas with me tonight."

"You used to be my student," I said hesitantly. "And your mother? I mean…" I stuttered as I was confused by pent up desire. But looking in to her deep eyes, and sensing her presence as she kept close to me – this wasn't the young girl I used to tutor.

"I'm not your student anymore. And we're both adults."

"Why not? Christmas is a time to share."

And with a broad smile on her face, she went all over the store, shutting off the radio and switching off the lights. After she locked the door, she quickly tallied her cash register with quick yet expert and experienced movements. As her hands floated across the register, I imagined them moving across my body, seeking out my erogenous anatomy.

Within a few moments, she was finished and she dashed into a back room and emerged free of her blue uniform. She'd elected to change into a tight fitting gray satin blouse and low hip-hugger jeans. I let out a breath as I admired the cleavage escaping the first three buttons of the blouse she had left undone. She smiled when she saw my admiring gaze. "Don't stare to hard," she said as her hand lingered near her neck. "Save some of that for later."

I shook my head violently from left to right in order to regain my senses, picked up her black three quarter length leather coat and held it as she slowly slipped her arms into each sleeve. While she did this, I felt her ass against my crotch through the coat. I let out a small whistle as she stayed in that position just long enough to get a rise from my cock. Satisfied with my excitement, she headed for the door. She let me out first so she could punch the security code to arm the alarm system and quickly dashed out to join me, wrapping a pink feathered boa around her neck. When she was satisfied the system was working properly, she twined her arm with mine and we headed for the small four room apartment she shared with her mother.

As we walked quietly, we stopped in front of each house we encountered to contemplate every little Christmas constellation. Each house was uniquely decorated, standing out as a monument to the season. I told Edith how invasive I found the decorations on Toronto's Younge street to be; it was like staring at an entire universe with the naked eye. Here, a small stroll took us from one individual star to the next. I also recounted how I'd left my job as a teacher's aid in town after getting an article about the status of rural communities with only one major employer published in Saturday Night magazine. I'd been freelancing ever since.

As we neared her building, she told me about how, after high school, she went on to study graphic design in college, but had to drop out after her mother had broken her leg. She'd worked as a barmaid and although she was only thirty-five and still a beautiful woman, there was no insurance to cover her missing salary, forcing Edith to find a job to help her mother. The cast on her mother's leg had only recently come off and the holidays were a terrible time to find a job.

Finally, we stood at the base of the stairwell that led up to her apartment. I looked up at the snow that fell now and during our walk here; Edith stuck out her tongue and caught flake after flake. I put a finger under her chin and tilted her head back. She looked at me pensively while I observed the way the flakes blended in with the sparkles on her face. It gave her a surreal and angelic quality. Tentatively, I brought my face closer to hers; sensing her lithe, nearly imperceptible nod, I brushed my lips against hers. We then closed our eyes and shared a deep kiss, letting go only when our tongues started to explore themselves.

The stairs were slippery, but we climbed them easily, holding on to one another for support and for desire. "The place isn't decorated," she announced after opening the door and switching on the light.

"Well," I said as I removed my coat and helped her with hers, "do you have any decorations around?"

Edith turned around and hugged me while I felt her scratch her chin on my shirt. "I think there's a box in the hallway closet. But I thought we had other things planned?"

I reluctantly broke her embrace and ran my fingers through her hair. "Hey, this is turning into the best Christmas I've had in years. I just thought it'd be nice if it looked the part." Then, winking at her, I went to the refrigerator, opened the door, and pulled out a bottle of red wine I knew I'd find. "Pretty sure we'll have fun."

Giggling, Edith ran for the hallway while I perused the various cupboards in search of glasses and a bottle opener. I got lucky: I found each article on the first try. I then nodded appreciatively as I realized the wine was a fine Chilean red. The cork popped out just as Edith arrived with a box full of lights and garlands. I poured two glasses, and we both sniffed the wine's bouquet while we intermingled our arms.

"Cheers," I whispered and we drank. While the sweet drink swished around my teeth, Edith and I kissed, our mouthfuls of wine flowing together, engulfing our tongues. We started to laugh, but struggled to keep quiet so as not to wake Edith's mother up.

"Don't worry. I closed her door."

So began our adventures in intoxicated decorating. We seemed to have started a contest because after the first garland was installed – Edith finished first – she came over to me and began to unbutton my red shirt. I moaned with each kiss she left on my exposed chest; she tickled me when she snuggled her nose in my chest hair. And when she reached my belt, she pulled my shirt out of my pants and slipped it off my body by gliding her hands across my chest. She took a moment to stare at my chest, tracing the lines of my muscles with her finger tips, paying particular attention to my stomach. She suddenly stopped and picked up a strand of lights. We both started at different ends to tape it to the wall, moving quickly to see who would reach to middle; it was my turn to win. Edith waited in anticipation.

I buried my face in her neck while sliding my hands down her blouse, taking the time to firmly squeeze her medium sized tits and savor her hard nipples. Edith was only a few inches shorter me, so I guessed her breast size to be about 34 C; but that would come later since I decided to undo her belt, not her shirt. Dropping to my knees, I pulled her snug jeans down all the way to her ankles before gently lifting her feet out of them. I admired her slender, toned legs, and paid homage to their length by kissing my way up to her panty line – first the right leg, then the left. Each time, I ran my cheek over the aromatic bush hidden under her black panties. I loved the goosebumps that appeared across her body. Languorously sliding up her sensuous form, I paused to kiss her forehead, and went to pick up the next garland.

We hung the garland from the chandelier over the dining room table to the far corner of the room. Having worked together – I was only in my slacks and she was in her shirt and underwear – we decided to each remove an article of clothing. Edith decided to go first; I was in no position to deny her. She traced the shape of my face with her tongue while she undid my belt; I gripped her hair, wanting to pull her head back to better kiss her, but she mouthed the word no. I held my breath as I felt her fingers slip into the band of my boxers; as she kneeled, carrying my pants and underwear along with her, she stopped right in front of my cock.

"Not quite the way I imagined it," she said as my erection responded to her touch.

"No?" I asked hesitantly, the fear that she was disappointed making my cock less hard than it should be.

"No. It's better."

Vigor returned to my tool with that remark, and I moaned while she pumped me and stood up. As we kissed, Edith rubbed her nipples against mine through her satin blouse and squeezed my hard ass. Our kissing led us to the dimly lit kitchen until Edith was firmly pressed up against the refrigerator. Driven, I grabbed each side of her blouse and deliberately pulled sternly to pop each button. She held her breath with each until her tits and tummy were fully exposed. I marveled at their firmness and at how sensitive her nipples were as even the slightest contact sent shivers across her body.