A Family Christmas Ch 04

WARNING TO READERS - This is a long, rambling story and VERY British which has been divided into several parts for ease of editing and reading. The individual parts will make more sense if read in sequence as they follow straight on chronologically.

Most, but not all chapters contain some sexually explicit sections and the story has a strong incest theme which some readers may find disturbing and might wish to cease reading now...

Whilst this is a stand-alone story some readers may recognise some of the characters from my submissions from a couple of years back entitled 'The Touch' which can still be found in the Novellas section of Literotica. I do intend to continue with the original series now that I am back home but these new tales were put together without reference to the earlier stories whilst I was recuperating after an operation and follow the fortunes of some of the characters a few years on from the original tales.

GF

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Part Four: Julia

Despite having had two late nights and traumatic days and considerably more alcohol than I was used to I was still up bright and early the next morning, unpacked my bag and put my gear into the drawers and cupboards then took a shower, shaved, got dressed and headed down to the hotel reception to use the public computer to call Cora on her iPad. The Wi-Fi connection was not brilliant and the picture kept breaking up but it was great to see her face and she managed to tell me that she felt much better. She was a little bit pissed off when I told her that we had had a good fall of snow during the night and everywhere around the hotel was 'deep and crisp and even' as the saying goes. I wished her good luck with her scan later and told her I would call her again when I could.

I had put on a chunky polo neck sweater, thick ski pants and my waterproof snow boots and so decided to take a quick look outside. The hotel information board showed the temperature as being -5 degrees but there were still quite a few guests in ski suits and thick anoraks sitting at the outside tables with steaming mugs before heading off to the piste or snowboarding centre when they opened at 10 am. I wandered about the grounds enjoying a cigarette for a few minutes but without a hat it was too cold to stay outside for very long and made my way back into the hotel. It is strange how -5 in Austria feels fresh and bracing whilst -1 in England is just bloody cold and miserable with or without snow.

I didn't think that Aunt Julia would want to start the day with instant coffee and so I went through to the dining room which was already heaving with guests wanting to get fed and then rush out onto the slopes early, as there had been a fresh snow fall over night. I found one of the waiters who knew me from previous visits and asked for a pot of fresh coffee and took it back upstairs with me, it was faster than calling room service at that time of the morning. By the time that I got back to the suite I could hear Aunt Julia moving about in her room and so went through to our lounge and poured myself a cup then knocked on the connecting door to her bedroom and called out that there was coffee ready when she wanted it.

When she came through a few minutes later I was sitting with my coffee trying to translate the 'What's On' page of the 'Tiroler Tageszeitung' the local newspaper, which I had brought up from the lobby, my finger tracing every line as I carefully mouthed the words allowing my brain time to make the translation. My schoolboy German was no better than average despite coming to Austria every year to ski and at best I was struggling. Cora's French and German were almost perfect and Mother was also fluent in Italian and Spanish in addition to the French and German. Aunt Julia also had a good command of German at least and I determined that it was time that I dragged my mind away from the rugby field and paid more attention to my language studies, I could just about get by with Spanish but that was about all.

She moved behind my chair to get to the service trolley and the coffee pot, absently dragging her finger tips across the back of my shoulders, "Good morning, James, dear..." she said quietly.

I turned to look at her and my mouth fell open. I snapped it shut and just mumbled, "Mornin' Auntie Julia..." moronically.

She looked wicked. She was wearing a pair of expensive cream KILLY ski pants with the cuffs tucked into thick oiled wool walking socks, the top of the trousers cinched tight around her waspish waist with a woven multicoloured belt, emphasizing her rounded mature hips and buttocks, above which was a tight fitting pale blue ICEBREAKER polo neck base layer which clung to her figure like a second skin. Even though she was wearing a soft sports bra beneath the top her firm breasts were sculpted in the pliable cotton and her nipples were visible where they were thrust against the fabric. Until this holiday I don't remember ever seeing my aunt in anything but formal business suits which could be sexy in their own way but in ski gear she looked awesome in a manner that girls my own age never could, teenage girls could look cute but she simply radiated sensual power. Thinking back upon it I guess that my mother had that same sexual presence.

She had obviously showered and her hair was still damp and pulled back into a short pony tail which bobbed enticingly on the back of her neck. She was without make-up but even so her skin appeared smooth except for the tiny 'character lines' around the corners of her eyes, but I could not help but remember her face from the night before, slightly flushed with her eyes a little wild; sexy and exciting, the pink tip of her tongue just visible between her lips. The memory of that strange jolt that we had shared when our fingers touched and the erotic sensation that it had given me was certainly colouring how I viewed my aunt this morning.

I guess that I have probably always had a bit of a thing for older women. When I was about ten there was a woman who lived a few houses down from us called Mrs. Nichols and for a while I think I had serious school-boy crush on her. She had a little dachshund dog which Cora and I took for walks sometimes, however I was the one who hung around her front gate talking to the dog, but really just hoping that she would make an appearance. Katherine Nichols was probably in her late forties then, she was tall and voluptuous, with a mass of billowing black hair and wore tight sweaters and short skirts and very, very high heels. Mother commented sometime later that she had been a fashion model and her husband was something in the City; they moved shortly afterward, I never saw her again but I never forgot her. I think that even at that age Cora sensed my interest and always referred to her as 'that dog woman'.

I realised that my aunt was aware of me ogling her and with great difficulty I tried to tear my eyes away from her breasts, a cold chill coursing down from my brain to my balls. I was going to get killed...she would slaughter me... My scary aunt was going to rip me apart for staring at her Charlies, I just knew it! Whatever bridges I had built earlier were going to get bloody burned now...

"Wow! You look great, Auntie Julia..." I managed to splutter in mitigation. I could hear my coffee cup rattling in the saucer. Oh fuck...I guess that sounded like an admission of guilt...it did to me.

There followed a long, long silence... Probably almost ten seconds although it seemed to go on for hours... "James... " her voice sounded icy and stern, "My face is up here..."

"When I managed to drag my eyes away from her pointy boobs and up to meet her eyes, I discovered that she was grinning broadly, "My dear boy..." she admonished with a laugh... "You are going to be sharing these rooms with three grown women,,,, you had better get used to sharing your space with tits and bums in the mornings."

Yes, I was used to living with Mother and Cora, we had become somewhat more modest since Cora and I went into puberty but I would sometimes encounter my mother in her lingerie and had caught a glimpse of her naked boobs occasionally and there was no part of Cora's body that I had not seen and touched intimately, but... somehow Aunt Julia was different, more erotic, her body in another league of sexual fantasy altogether because she was not a part of the immediate family group.

"I'm sorry Auntie Julia...about... well, you know...just now..." I started before she interrupted me.

"Call me Julia or Jules for Christ's sake...James. You are a grown man now and all this 'Auntie' and 'Aunt' nonsense makes me feel older than I am already."

"Right...er...Jules..." I mumbled, "about just now..." My sub-conscious was screaming at me to let it go but my mouth seemed to have a death wish.

"So I've got tits... live with it..." she chuckled, her piercing grey eyes were sparkling and her face lit up with the same dazzling smile that I so loved on my mother. She was bloody enjoying teasing me...what is with women... they are like cats with a mouse? Now that we were alone together and had put away our mutual antagonism she seemed to be taking on a much more relaxed and human persona, one I had never seen before and liked immensely...but she could still be scary.

She brought her cup of coffee and came to sit down opposite me. I flicked my cigarette packet across the table to her but she shook her head, that little pony tail bobbing sexily across her neck. "Too early for me..." She said, "It is a bad habit smoking and drinking hard liquor before breakfast...you might end up like your Uncle Ted... a lonely old piss-artist... with nobody but bookies for friends!" There was definitely some needle history between Julia and Ted, my curiosity was aroused but I sure as hell did not have the balls to ask her about it.

She drained her coffee cup and stood up, "I am going to finish getting dressed and then we can go down for breakfast...yes?"

"Yes." My eyes discreetly followed her arse in those tight fitting ski pants as she left the room. Cora had warned me; I needed to be careful about her, she missed nothing but at least she couldn't read my mind... At least I sincerely hoped not...if she could then I was well and truly fucked.

I pulled on my chunky sweater and waited for her by the exit door. When she joined me she had added a plain cream fleece top to her outfit and had brushed out her steel grey hair so that it fanned out into a candyfloss cascade when she shook her head showing the white highlights. I had never really thought about grey hair before it was just something that happened to older people but suddenly I had become aware how attractive it could be on some women, my aunt and my mother in particular; I remembered seeing an advertisement somewhere which read "Grey is the new blonde!". Julia had fixed her make-up; it was modest but immaculate, her eyes perfectly lined and her lips just the right delicate shade of pink her face had the slight sheen of the protective skin cream everybody used in the Alps. I thought that she looked strikingly elegant. I refrained from complimenting her again... I thought that would just be pushing my luck too far.

The dining room was quite busy with guests and visitors crowding at the buffet or waiting to be served cooked breakfasts at their tables. The Tirolerhof was not a large hotel even with the recently added modern extensions, only catering for about 100 guests but at this time of the year was always packed to capacity. Quite a few of the faces in the dining room were familiar to me... Other regular visitors who came every year about the same time... it was that sort of hotel. There was a smattering of older couples, mostly Austrian or Germans and several British families and groups including a clutch of teenaged girls probably students, some of whom exchanged smiles across the room. If Mum and Cora had been there they would have teased me mercilessly. Julia noticed but just smiled and kept her thoughts to herself.

Normally I am not a great breakfast eater, on a school day, I generally settle for a tumbler of grapefruit juice and a mug of black coffee and then grab something later in the morning, usually some sort of junk food. Being on holiday is different and kicks in a different routine and I look forward to the Austrian style breakfast of warm bread rolls with aromatic Alpkäse cheese or generous spoons of sweet black cherry or blueberry jam. Julia appeared to have an enthusiasm for breakfast that morning also and between us we demolished bowls of grapefruit segments, a whole basket of rolls and a variety of cheeses plus two large pots of strong coffee. My aunt was not a picky eater, she enjoyed her food and her slim waist and trim figure disguised her very healthy appetite.

"So what SHALL we do today?" She asked me returning to last evening's unresolved question. She held up her hand in a blocking gesture before I could answer, "I am NOT going to go out on the slopes..." she announced definitively but with a mocking smile. "But...if you would like to drive up to Igls or Kitzbühel, or go up on the tram, we can have a look at the piste and then you can hire some kit from Intersport Rental and go out later in the week when your mother and Cora are here or join up with that group of girls you were eyeing up earlier." Igls has always been our favourite jump off for skiing the Patscherkofel both Cora and I learned to ski there and my mother and aunt had been coming there for years, long before we were born.

I had been thinking about the skiing and boarding earlier that morning. I knew from past experience that I could easily hook up with other young skiers and it was tempting to find out which trail the student group was taking and tag along. Cora and I had done it before when Mother wanted to go into the town shopping for the day, although mostly we stayed together and skied together just the three of us. As much as I enjoyed the sport it would not be fair for me to bugger off and enjoy myself on the piste and leave Julia sitting around on her own waiting for me... Although she might be relieved to be shot of me for a few hours.

"I think I may leave going out to ski until Cora and Mum get here.." I said, "Cora won't be able to ski with a broken arm but Mum may want to go out and I could keep her company..." I poured out the last two cups of coffee in the pot. "...but I like the idea of a trip up to Igls... We can have a look around and maybe get lunch somewhere..."

"OK then... It's a plan..." Julia agreed. "Let us get our coats and then we can take the car up to Igls and after lunch we can drive into Innsbruck and have a look around the shops... is that OK?"

We fetched our coats, hats and mittens and then went out to the car. The hotel staff had been busy and the car park was almost cleared of snow and most of the customer's vehicles had been swept clean of the previous night's snowfall and the windscreens scraped free of ice... a service that you would not get at home in Britain.

Julia had a thick KILLY ski jacket which matched her pants, cream with the discreet multicoloured flash on the breast pockets and grey fur trim around the edges of the coat, the hood and cuffs. By accident or design the fur almost exactly matched the shade of her hair so that you could hardly tell where the fur trim ended and her hair began. I am not sure why but I thought it looked really sexy. She had topped in off with a round cream knitted woollen hat with a bobble and thick matching sheepskin mittens.

I hadn't had any new winter gear this year but fortunately I hadn't grown that much and where I had filled out around the chest and shoulders made very little difference to the fit of my clothes. I was still wearing my big waterproof 'emergency yellow' TENSON mountain coat with the quilted duck down lining and big hood that would pull tight over a wool comforter cap and completely protect the face with only your goggles exposed. The coat had cost me a small fortune as it was top of the range but had its own built in emergency locator beacon emitter with an aerial sewn into the lining which could be pulled up in an emergency the same as the one used by the army in Norway. I had bought it when I did my Duke of Edinburgh Award Scheme last year along with a new pair of snow boots and they were warm and snug, I was not a cold person but at five-below you did not risk frost bitten toes.

We walked out to the car and Julia held out the keys to me.

"Er...problem!" I muttered. I guess that she expected me to drive. "Obviously nobody has told you..."

"What?"

"No International License..." I grinned sheepishly, "Actually, no license at all yet..."

"OK." She shrugged and just stepped up beside me and opened the driver's door. "You need to fix that..." she laughed, "I am used to having a chauffeur...not being one..."

I realised that she was teasing me. Without thinking I had automatically gone to the left hand side of the Touareg forgetting that we were abroad and it was a continental car. I quickly ran around to the other door and climbed into the passenger seat. "Sorry... I feel a pratt now... I guess you already knew, huh?"

"Yes." Was all she said with a big grin.

"Do you really have a chauffeur?" I asked as we drove out onto the main highway.

"Oh, yes... it goes with the job..." I was learning something new about her by the minute.

The small ski resort of Igls is only a short distance from Innsbruck and the main road to the village, the Igler Straβe almost passes the Tirolerhof Hotel and had been modernised in the past few years so we were in the village and parked by mid-morning. Julia knew exactly where she was going and drove straight to Lanser Straβe and managed to find a parking space near the rear of the Sporthotel. I was impressed, parking is a major problem in all the high mountain ski resorts and I had been coming to Igls every year with Mother and did not know that those five hidden away spaces existed and we had usually had to park at the ski school or leave the car and come up on the tram.

It was a lovely morning clear and crisp and so we ambled through the village to the Rennschule and rode the Patcherkofelbahn cable car all the way up to the head of the piste. Even though we were not going to ski just the ride up was exhilarating, the slopes looked fantastic and we were both like a couple of kids pointing at recognised landmarks. The area at the top of the lift was quite crowded and more skiers were arriving with each car and so we chatted with a few about the conditions on the slopes and then made our way back to the lift head and boarded the next car going back down after about 20 minutes.

"Thank you, Jules," I said as we rode down. The car was empty except for us and one elderly man probably Austrian judging by his dress, who had obviously accompanied a skier to the top or like us had just gone up for the ride and the view. "I know that I may not get to ski much this year...but that was great just being up there...and I really am enjoying myself just being here."

"It was fun...wasn't it..." She smiled, "Now I think you should buy me lunch somewhere nice as a reward..."

"You must try the Wintergarten at the Sporthotel, young man..." The old man said from the opposite side of the car. We both turned towards him. He was undoubtedly German or Austrian and I would estimate in his mid-eighties, but his English was impeccable, almost without accent. "The lunch is very good... and ... it is very romantic... your young lady will enjoy it very much..."

I opened my mouth to say something but felt Julia squeeze my arm her fingers digging into my muscle through my thick coat, and I closed it again.

"Danke, werden wir sicherlich, Mein Herr.." She thanked him.

The car came to a halt and we stepped aside to let him alight first. He reached out and patted my arm, „You are a very lucky young man..." He said quietly, „Your young lady is very lovely.." Then walked briskly away toward the village.