*All characters are 18+. This is a work of fiction for erotic entertainment only. Real-life sex should always be with enthusiastic consent.*
Copyright 2023 Apophenia
***
A vibrator. I was holding a vibrator while my parents' smiles slowly faded.
How did I get here? Why did I open this stupid box?
Our parents had Christmas morning every year even after we moved away to college, graduated, and got jobs. They'd probably continue the tradition with our kids -- though I imagined they thought my brother and I would have kids separately. Like normal siblings.
I was moments away from throwing the pink silicone
object
at my grinning idiot of a brother.
"Bruce..." my mom sighed.
He opened his hands. "Hey, you always encourage us to have a healthy sex life. And a vibrator can't cheat on her. Win-win."
My dad rubbed his forehead, but I swore his shoulders were shaking. Mom pressed her lips together and handed me another wrapped package. "Here, open this one, Jen, sweetie. It's from us."
That was it? My brother gave me a vibrator for Christmas, and that was my parents' response?
Oh, silly Bruce, there he goes again.
Argh.
What did I get him? Nothing, of course. It was that, or I wouldn't be able to resist getting him something just as ridiculous. Besides, he got my pussy the last time we saw each other; if that wasn't good enough for the giant turd muffin, he could go suck a bag of dicks.
Hmm. I could probably find an adult store with dick-shaped candy.
After my brother fucked me through three total orgasms on Thanksgiving night, we fell asleep still joined at the hips. Neither of us admitted how exhausted we were. The moron wore a smug smirk all next morning. The only reason I didn't immediately punch him in the face was because of those orgasms. Nothing happened. I did not cum on my brother's limp dick.
The morning-after pill gave me cramps. The fact that my brother was the reason why I needed one gave me conniptions. That's right, conniptions. I don't know what the British fuck those are, but I had them. There is only so much bullshit a girl can put up with, and this girl was done.
I was done pretending for my family that we got along. I was done answering his calls and texts. If he fell in a ditch, I'd get a shovel to bury him.
He'd probably just climb out on top of the dirt pile. Jackass.
It wasn't until after Christmas dinner that I wondered how he'd found out about my boyfriend cheating on me. Mom probably told him. That was why she didn't get mad at him; she felt guilty.
I met this guy a week after Thanksgiving and thought we hit it off pretty great. Two weeks later, I found him kissing another girl at a party. What was it with me and asshole men?
At least we didn't have to share a bed this holiday. Christmas was always a small family gathering. If by some horrible Christmas miracle we ended up with only one bed in this house for my brother and me, I would book a fucking flight to another planet to get away from that shit. There was no way we would end up in bed together again.
None.
--
We stayed for a few days after Christmas. My parents didn't see us except during the holidays. I considered picking different holidays to visit with them in the future.
Bruce was disgustingly sweet with my parents, helping them tidy up, shoveling snow, making hot toddies that my mother adored. They never understood why I hated him. It was sickening.
We somehow made it to the last day without attacking each other. Well, I didn't smother him in the middle of the night, specifically. Mostly because that would involve him with me in a bed and just,
nope
.
The last morning, I packed my clothes, happy to get away without an... incident. Shuddering as I went through my pile of gifts, I made sure to toss that stupid vibrator in the trash. My brother never needed to be involved in my sex life, thanks. I could take care of myself just fine; I had, like, three vibrators.
After lunch, my parents stepped out to run an errand, and I said my goodbyes since I had a flight to catch before they got back. My mom suggested my brother give me a ride, and I froze for just a second thinking about exactly what kind of ride she meant. No, a taxi would be fine.
The second they left, I stomped off to my room and slammed the door shut. Two hours and I wouldn't have to see my brother again for almost a year. Fantastic.
I should've gone to the airport early.
Just as I got comfortable on my bed with my phone and an audiobook, my bedroom door opened. I frowned. Why didn't I lock the door?
My brother strolled in, leaning against the wall as he eyed me up and down.
"Go away," I ground out while staring at my phone.
He waved a small box at me. "I have one more present for you. You'll like it, I promise."
I highly doubted that.
Without looking up, I muttered, "Drop it and get out."
He was silent for a moment. Then he said softly, "I'm sorry."
What? What the hell did he say?
My eyes lifted slowly, suspiciously.
He had the oddest expression on his face: sad eyes, weak smile, shoulders hunched. "I'm sorry for making fun of you all the time. I'm sorry for... Thanksgiving. Um. I'm sorry for the vibrator -- I mean, you do need one, but--"
"Stop. Don't ruin this." I narrowed my eyes. "Just stick with sorry." This was too good. I could feel a tiny grin creeping onto my lips, but I kept it at bay.
"Right, yeah. Sorry. About everything." He fidgeted with a box in his hands, then held it out.