Angela Goes Home For Christmas

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?"

"Well, if you want, I could seduce him so that you can have a clear shot at Mark, since Alice is out of the picture," Joanie said.

"I wonder why Alice isn't coming this year?" I thought, but ended up it saying aloud.

"Covid exposure? A fight with Mark? Going to her parents instead, for once? It could be anything," Joanie replied.

"Yes," I said, absently choosing a new ornament for the tree. "Wait a minute: Did you just propose seducing Shane??"

"Why? Do you still love the man? Pretend I never said it," Joanie replied, reading my transparent face. "If you want Shane, I'll take Mark."

"Joanie, what's gotten into you?"

"Long story," Joanie replied. Joanie told me the story over coffee at a pathetic imitation of a Starbucks. Bottom line? Joanie was horny on steroids, and needed a good fuck or three to forget her troubles.

So, it looked like the men would be Dad, Mark, and Shane. The women would be Joanie and me. Good odds, right? The ratio is 3 to 2. So, each of us girls gets one and a half men, if -- and it's a big if -- you count my Dad. I think Joanie never even thought about the possibility of mixing it up with Dad, but my old man must be horny as hell.

Just then we heard the purr of Mark's Mazda as he pulled up to the house, parking right behind Shane's truck. I couldn't wait to get my hands on Mark, but I knew that I had to wait. Incest is simply not a public activity. Joanie and I had a plan: We had hit Victoria's Secret at the mall, and there were precious few secrets left the day before Christmas when we got there, but we still managed to get some sexy lingerie in our respective sizes. I'm relatively flat chested being a B cup if one feels charitable, but Joanie balances out the universe with her big and gorgeous D cup boobs. We could exchange panties, but not bras. On the other hand, I didn't even need a bra, hee, hee.

We'd let it slip about our purchases, and one of the men, probably Shane, would lead a chant to get us to model them.

**

Well, that was interesting. To see Shane have no interest in a sexpot like Joanie, and only to have interest in his ex-wife Angela, ie, me, was certainly strange. Poor guy: Sex with me was just not an option. Yes, I still had residual love for Shane. You don't just turn off twelve years of love, like you turn off a light. What you can turn off, however, is sexual desire, and trust me, that was gone. My desire for Shane had left the building.

Mark too rebuffed Joanie. The only man to have interest in her was my dear old Dad. Joanie however did not take Dad's interest seriously. I felt bad for Joanie; this had been a blow to her self-confidence. On the other hand, I had the opposite problem. All three men wanted me. Once Joanie had left to go home, I had to deal with three men wanting to get into my panties. My panties were skimpy; there was barely room for me inside them!

Mark and Shane both left the house to go out drinking together. On Christmas Eve? Was there even a bar that was open? Maybe the Hotsy Totsy Club would be open? It was by far the sleaziest bar in town. Perhaps Shane could get himself a whore for the night, one of those farm girls who always needed money, and probably penicillin, too. As for Mark, well, he had Alice. I still didn't know why she hadn't come with him. I'd see if Dad knew.

This left me alone with Dad. I was dressed in only a bra and panties, a holdover from our modeling show. I could see the tease was working on my Dad. He was struggling with his animalistic desire and the taboo of molesting his own daughter. On the other hand, who would know? I put on a T shirt, to stop torturing my father so much.

"You know, you could go without a bra, if you like? I mean your breasts are small enough Angela, I would think?" Dad said.

"Where is this coming from?" I asked.

"The thing is, Angela (Dad never called me Angie), you look exactly, and I do mean exactly, like your mother did at your age. She would go without a bra from time to time, especially when she wanted to seduce me," Dad said.

"So, if I want to seduce you,

Dad

, I should lose my bra?" I said, way over-emphasizing the word 'Dad.'

"Yes," he said, ignoring my tease. I went to the bathroom and removed my bra. I emerged with it dangling from my wrist. I gave Dad a big, toothy smile. My nips poked at the T shirt, all the more because I had tortured them a bit while in the bathroom. I can call anyone's bluff.

"Then what happened with you and Mom?" I asked.

"I'd come over to her and kiss her," Dad said.

"And push up her T shirt as you kissed her?" I asked her. Dad didn't answer, instead he came over to me and kissed me. He gave me a long, passionate kiss, and I gave back as good as I got. While we kissed he pushed up my T shirt. #BigSurprise.

I raised my arms as he pulled it over my head. My panties were beginning to get a wee bit damp.

"Can you believe the even the Hotsy Totsy Club is closed tonight?" Mark said, as he and Shane burst noisily into the house, while I was topless and kissing Dad, and as Dad was gradually pushing my panties down.

"Are we interrupting something?" Shane said. My ex-husband is so damn perceptive, I thought to myself. Captain Obvious came to mind.

"Let's go to Joanie's place. I want to see her in just her panties, too!" Mark said. He dragged Shane with him.

**

It was wonderful. Now I knew why Mom always screamed. I did, too. I sounded just like her. Dad told me I fucked the exact same why as his Charlotte had. It was a little freaky to be fucking my Dad and being compared to my dear, departed mother. Most of all, though, it was intense. It was intensely wonderful.

What did I feel as my father fucked me? I felt loved, I felt appreciated, and I felt ravaged, all at the same time. My father is a brutal fuck, but it's all good. I never would have thought it, but it was just what I needed. I need a man to take charge, to shower me with love, and at the same time to turn me into his little fuck toy, ready to do anything and everything he wanted me to do. And that's exactly what Dad did.

Dad pushed me to the limits and beyond what I ever thought I'd do. Like James before him, he wanted anal. He got it. He wanted pictures of my cunt filled with his seed, and he got that, too. He wanted to fuck me in the window, with the blinds up, so that Mr. Alcott next door could watch. I actually saw Mr. Alcott watching me get fucked by my Dad. I noticed he had a new camera. I blew Mr. Alcott a kiss, as my father blew my mind with his cock. I saw Mr. Alcott squirt, as he jerked off while watching.

This was the other side of strange. Fucking my father and deliberately letting out neighbor, the dirty old man known as Mr. Alcott, watch?

Mr. Alcott had always lived next door, and he had watched me grow up. He had watched me play with dolls, and as I got older, he watched me make out with boys, via my bedroom window. He had watched me masturbate, he had watched me change clothes, he had watched me give numerous blowjobs, and he had even watched me fuck a few special guys, my ex-husband Shane of course included. In case you haven't guessed, Mr. Alcott likes to watch. Fortunately, he was harmless, because he was something like 150 years old, and he was terrified of my Dad, and rightly so.

When my father could no longer get it up, he told me to stay naked, but to put on my mother's robe. He called up Mr. Alcott and invited him over for some late-night drinks. I sat there, nervously sipping my glass of bourbon, wearing only my robe, clutching it tightly closed, and hoping I didn't stink too much of sex. My Dad and Mr. Alcott, whose first name is Henry, but we call him Hank, discussed sports and politics. Both of them kept looking over at me, and smiling. Hank's smile went from ear to ear.

I think I set a world record for blushing with shame.

**

Joanie:

Thanks, Angela, for sending the two men my way. I'd never had two men at once before, and it was quite an experience! Did you have fun with your Dad?

Me:

Oh, yeah. I had the time of my life. You coming over for Xmas dinner? I'm cooking, and I could use your help. Also, I don't want to be the only woman here.

J:

Want to cook wearing aprons?

M:

Of course, I always wear an apron

J:

I mean, only aprons. Nothing else.

M:

😂 Not a good idea. Dad invited Mr. Alcott over.

J:

Hasn't he seen every square inch of your body, over the years?