Angela goes home for Christmas
She finds a lonely father, her ex, her brother, and Mr. Alcott
**
Nota bene:
This story uses the character Angela developed in my previous story, Angela has a Shameful Night, or Two. It's not necessary to read that story before this one, but if you want to, I won't stop you!
This is my entry to the
Literotica 2021 Winter Holidays Story Contest
.
**
This has been a hard year, with lots of horrible things happening. I wish you all a good winter holiday, according to your religion, and let's hope 2022 brings good things. JB
**
I was nervous. I've never before been nervous coming back to the ancestral home, but this time I was. My mother had died, almost a year ago, of a vicious form of breast cancer, and this was to be the first Christmas without her. I imagined there'd be a lot of crying involved, mostly from me. My father and my brother don't cry, ever, and why should my brother's wife Alice cry?
I had recently had a surreal experience in New York. I had been there for a conference, and I had been picked up for a one-night-stand by an older man, who reminded me, strongly, of Dad. I even think that's why I let him pick me up; well, that, plus my extreme horniness. He also bribed me, turning me into a whore for a night, like that old TV show my parents used to talk about, Queen for a Day. Instead, I was a Whore for a Night.
Well, that's water under the bridge now, except for the creepy but intriguing feeling that I had already had sex with Dad, by proxy. It was silly. Dad is not the type of man who would molest his daughter, even if she were an adult daughter, in a hotel bar, alone, and showing off a lot of leg.
This would also be my first Christmas without Shane, my ex-husband, who had dumped me for a sexy bimbo. My Dad loves Shane, and I know how he thinks: I didn't give Shane enough blowjobs, so he found someone who would. The worst part of that kind of evil thinking, is that there might even be a grain of truth to it.
It would be a small Christmas. Just my brother Mark and his wife Alice, my Dad, and me. Even our dog, Butch Cassidy, had died of old age, so between my Mom, the dog, and Shane, all absent, it's going to be a sad time, I feared. Those were my thoughts as I rolled my rental Ford Taurus up my Dad's ridiculously long driveway.
I didn't like Alice, my brother's wife, that much. I have no idea why, but she was somehow jealous of me. Maybe I do have an idea, I suppose. My BFF Joanie told me once that she thinks my brother Mark has the hots for me, and that's why Alice is jealous. Obviously, that's ridiculous. The only things that give it credibility is first, that Joanie got it on with Mark a few times, before he was married, of course. Mark confessed to Joanie that he lusted for me. The second thing is top secret.
"Don't men lust for all women?" I remember asking Joanie at the time.
"Usually not their own sisters, Angela," she had replied. "Look, if you don't believe me, try teasing him a little, and check out his response carefully. You'll see it."
I didn't do it. The idea that Mark had a thing for me, that way, was just too ridiculous. Still, Joanie claims that's why Alice is often mean to me: It's jealousy. Much as I love a simple explanation, I quite simply don't believe that one.
There was a time, however, which should give me pause, but it was Alice's fault. It was when I was married to Shane. It was late at night, Mom was already sick, and Dad was asleep, and only my brother, Alice, Shane, and I were still up, drinking wine coolers. We were all drunk, and Alice proposed a kissing game. Shane agreed too quickly, as I knew he wanted to be intimate with Alice. It's not that I wasn't enough for Shane, it's just that Alice is hot, and sometimes men like a new conquest.
I understood the motivations of Alice and Shane, but pairing them up left me with my brother? Not cool. Nevertheless, I went along to get along, and before I knew it, I was kissing Mark, and Shane was kissing Alice. A short time later Alice was undressed, wearing only her panties. The three of them ganged up on me, and I was giggling into my wine cooler as I was rendered just as almost naked as Alice.
I looked to Shane for support that this was going too far, but I couldn't get Shane's attention because his face was slurping away between Alice's legs. Horrified, I looked to my brother Mark, the incarnation of sweetness, and I saw a look in his root beer colored eyes that I had never before seen.
I may go to hell, but I got turned on. Totally. Overwhelmingly. I knew in that instant that if my brother Mark wanted me, I was his for the taking. I also knew, just from that one look, that he wanted me.
Mark gently pushed me onto my back. He much too easily spread my legs, and he buried his face between them. My brother was eating me out. My brother. My own brother. Mark. I couldn't believe it, but I had to face it, because it was happening.
Alice must have trained Mark well, because he had me moaning up a storm in no time, especially when he added a few fingers. My own brother, my very own brother, drove me out of my mind, and in only minutes I had a major climax, bigger than any I'd had in years.
As I lay there, closing my legs, Mark stood, and gradually took off his clothes. I saw his cock for the first time ever, and it was erect. He wanted me. I glanced again over at Shane, but it was too late: Shane and Alice were already busy fucking their evil hearts out. I briefly watched Shane's ass rise up and go down, as he humped his sister in law, but good. No help was coming from Shane.
I was more worried just then about fucking a guy outside of my marriage, and that concern kind of dwarfed the whole taboo with incest. Would Shane still love me if I fucked Mark? Mark had ceased to be my brother just then. He had become just a super sexy guy who really and truly wanted to fuck me. I find it an attractive feature in a man, that he desires me. I don't take it for granted.
Even better, this was Mark, my own brother, and despite the taboo, despite having his wife right there (albeit she's busy fucking my husband), he wanted me. When he moved to spread my legs, once again, they spread as easily as butter.
I'll never forget the moment when Mark first entered me. It wasn't sexy, it wasn't hot, it wasn't sordid. It was beautiful. He entered me smoothly and went all the way in, on his first stroke; I was already that wet. When he bottomed out inside me, I knew my life had changed forever. To paraphrase Ecclesiastes, men may come and go, but family is forever. I groaned.
My groan was a special groan. Much more than an erotic groan, it was a this is my life changing before my eyes, kind of groan. Mark told me later he understood my groan, and that he'll never forget it. Shane was too busy driving Alice to paradise to even notice my groan. The love Mark was pumping into me just got better after than initial groan.
The groan of the ages morphed into moans of extraordinary pleasure. They were not my typical little squeaks that I make when I fuck; no, these were more visceral, guttural moans bubbling up from the depths of my soul. The entire fuck was like an out-of-body experience. It's unforgettable.
That first fuck with my brother changed our sibling relationship. I felt closer to Mark than I ever had before. After that, every time I saw my brother, I knew we were destined to get it on, again and again. So too did Mark.
It was a special bonding that my husband (now my ex) could never share. Nor, I suspect, could Alice ever be as special to Mark as I had become. Alice and Shane had fucked for lust. Maybe Mark and I had, too, at first, I don't know. I can't speak for Mark. It turned out, however, not to be lust. It turned out to be love, and a love that I'll never experience with any other man, for the rest of my life. I'm sure Mark feels the same way.
Small wonder Alice was jealous. As usual, Joanie was right.
**
I got to the house before Alice and Mark, and Dad opened the door, greeting me with a huge smile, and complimenting me on my car. "It's a rental," I replied. He smiled. I think he knew it was a rental; after all, there's a little Avis sticker discreetly placed on the bumper.
Dad had decorated the tree himself, this year, not waiting for Alice, Mark and me to do it, and it looked lovely. Dad had never tried to decorate the tree before, but he had often watched his kids do it. So, it's true, I thought to myself: Dads can learn.
I looked at Dad with new eyes. He did not at all resemble Congressman Shithead, the Texas congressman who had made me a whore for a night. I mean, the resemblance was not so much physical, at least for their faces, as it was more abstract. Dad was a little thinner, broader shouldered, slightly taller, and he had a full head of salt and pepper hair, with no need for a horrific comb over.
Rather, it was Dad's general gestalt, his manner of being, his posture, his gestures, the way he held his head with a slight inclination to the side. It was hard to define, but just as Shithead had reminded me of Dad, the reciprocal worked, too. Dad reminded me of Shithead.
Dad and I were sitting around, quietly talking, discussing the news of the day, and carefully avoiding the topics of my deceased mother, and my ex-husband. It was nice, and pleasant. It was interrupted when my BFF Joanie dropped in, unannounced, to give me a present for Christmas. I gave her the one I had chosen for her, and we opened the presents.
I gave Joanie a bottle of Eau de Parfum of the new scent from Chanel, and she gave me a dildo. It was the smallest dildo I had ever seen, and Joanie said, "I tried to match it up to Shane's member, in case you miss him." She had a twinkle in her eye, and my Dad burst into loud, and boisterous laughter.
"I'm sure this dildo will come in handy. Thank you, Joanie," I said, as my Dad and I continued to laugh. "I am, in fact, rather horny."
"Me, too. When does your handsome brother arrive? Is he bringing his wife?" Joanie asked.
"He's not. He's coming alone, and he arrives tomorrow," Dad said, which was news to me. "Also, I hope you don't mind, but I invited Shane, too. Christmas without Shane would be sad."
Joanie and I looked at Dad, as if he had lost his freaking mind. "You can't do that, Mr. Higgins. You can't just unilaterally invite your daughter's ex to Christmas. You have to ask her first!"
"Joanie, I know you mean well, but this is my house, and I can do what I want. It's bad enough Charlotte is gone. Shane missing, too, is just too much.," he said. "Sorry, Angela. Are you mad?"
"In a word, yes, I'm mad. Come on, Joanie. Let's go do some last-minute shopping. Got an extra mask?" I said. "Now I won't need your dildo, since my ex will be here in the flesh. Ha, ha. What the fuck is wrong with you, Dad?"
I stormed out of the house, and Joanie began to stay, in order to say something to Dad, but she followed me out. We quickly ran to the bushes and hid, as we watched Shane's Ford F-150 rumble up the driveway.
"Is Shane a decent fuck, Angela?" Joanie asked me, while we were in Target.
"Yeah, I guess so," I replied. "Why do you ask?"
