Blowing It at Thanksgiving
This family-friendly story contains descriptions of close family members engaged in entirely inappropriate activities that some may find either disturbing or hot. If you find family members fantasizing about or taking liberties with each other or otherwise behaving in naughty ways, then you probably should stop reading right about... now.
All characters in this novel are fictional and are eighteen years or older. Any resemblance to any real Pilgrim or person, living, dead, or under the age of eighteen, is in your own dirty little mind. Sadly, most of the events portrayed in this story are not based on true events. I wish. I have to make do with more traditional Thanksgiving stuffing.
If you are still reading and are not offended by Kissing Cousins, MILF, SILF or BILF and believe relatives behaving in very naughty ways and non-traditional gobbling is hot, I hope you enjoy this naughty holiday fiction story.
There is one Thanksgiving in my family that no one talks about. When we get together on holidays and reminisce, no one has ever spoken about that particular holiday at my aunt and uncle's house in the thirty-some years since the day it happened.
And for damn good reason.
I think about it quite frequently, though. And for the same damn good reason!
Dad, Uncle Frank, Cousin Jimbo and I watched football and drank beer while the women folk cooked. We did offer to help, but they threw us out of the kitchen so we wouldn't ruin dinner, so we started popping beers and watched the game in my uncle's den. I was 21, my first Thanksgiving with legal alcohol and visiting here for a few days before Finals, so I downed beer like it was the day before Prohibition.
By dinner, I was drunk and starving and couldn't wait for Uncle Frank to carve the turkey so we could eat. But my mother had other ideas.
"While Frank's carving the turkey, why don't we go around the table and each mention something we're thankful for this Thanksgiving. Anyone want to start?"
Auntie Brooke started the ball rolling. "I'm just thankful you are all here with us this year." A few
awwws
and a few eyerolls.
Cousin Ellie said, "I am thankful my two favorite cousins are here—and my Aunt Jill and Uncle Jack."
Jimbo: "I'm thankful the Lions kept the game close." He had money on the Cowboys not beating the spread, but left out that part.
My little sister Hayley added hers. "I am thankful to have almost made it through my first semester at college, but I'll be even more thankful when exams are over!" That gave everyone a chuckle.
Uncle Frank: "I'm thankful for this beautiful turkey you ladies cooked!" More
awwws
with fewer eyerolls.
My turn. The first words to pop into my head gushed out. "To be honest, I'm always thankful for blowjobs."
What followed was the most profound silence I have ever experienced. It was more than silence, it was the complete absence of sound, as if we were suddenly in outer space. My attempt at humor sounded funny in my head, and I'm sure my friends at school would be rolling on the dining hall floor if I said it there, but soon as the words came out, I wanted to grab them and eat them like they were turkey and stuffing and wished I had stopped drinking a few beers ago. I made an awkward chuckle, trying to encourage someone to laugh it off with me, but in the vacuum of space that had descended over Auntie's table, there was no other sound for what seemed like a week.
Mother cleared her throat. "Ahem. Well, I am thankful for my sister and Frank for inviting us..."
That was it. My family is great at avoidance. It's our specialty, like when Dad banged our hot Korean babysitter when we were kids, or a year or so later when Mom ran over the school crossing guard one morning, already drunk. No one spoke of it again. An elderly neighbor started babysitting us, and Mom couldn't drive for a couple of years, so we rode our bikes to school, but we didn't mention it. This time, I had blown it, but my mother's moving-on comment gave the family a great opportunity to avoid the giant turd I laid right between the sweet potatoes and string bean casserole.
For my part, I kept my mouth shut, only opening it as necessary to stuff in food while everyone else ignored me like a gravy stain on the tablecloth. Heck, my Auntie would have been upset at a gravy stain. Avoiding eye contact, I focused on the food, and looked no higher than chest level, which wasn't bad. My cousin Ellie, who had a really nice chest, which developed like magic one year between visits and had fascinated me ever since. My sister's never grew as large, much to her frustration and my annoyance, as I could only imagine how much cousin Jimbo enjoyed having those big titties bouncing around the house. He was used to it, though, because great as Ellie's were, she inherited them from Auntie Brooke, who had the best boobs in the family. Better than my Mom's, which had been the envy of all my friends in school.
So, while avoiding eye contact, I pretended to look at the turkey's breast while enjoying the family breast collection around it. Sober enough to feel the embarrassment from my outburst, I ate fast then, feeling sleepy, figured the best thing to do was hide out in the guest room my sister and I were sharing. Stripping down to my underwear, I lay on top of the blankets just for a minute, and...
How much time passed is a mystery, but next thing I knew, a voice was asking, "Do you want some pie?"
"What?"
Ellie's head poked through the cracked door. She was the family beauty, a title she inherited from her mother. In fact, from the photos, Ellie was a virtual clone of her mother 30 years ago, and while Auntie Brooke was still an attractive woman, Ellie was in her nubile prime. "My mom sent me up to see if you wanted pie, and—oh my god!"
Her eyes had drifted down, focusing on the tent I had pitched in my sleep. Embarrassed, I tried to cover my wood sculpture with my hands, since I was lying on top of the covers.
"Don't be such a tease! Let me get a good look!" Ellie said with a laugh. Why the heck not? I lay back and let her have a good gander. "I had no idea you were packing that. Why didn't you tell me? Think of how much fun we could have had at our family gatherings."
I always figured my cousin knew I had a penis, so had never considered mentioning its 10 inch size. It was kind of embarrassing, with all the creepy guys staring at it in the locker room shower. I assumed they were gay or bi-curious, and since I always liked girls, if too shy to find a way to use this thing with them, I otherwise tried to ignore it. It came as a shock that my cousin didn't think about it as much as I wondered what she hid under her clothes.
"Do you like it?"
"That's a silly question, Cuz. A better one is, do you want me to give you something to be thankful for?"
"I would be extremely thankful!"
She slipped in, quietly shutting the door behind her, sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the pole out of the tent. Her fingers were cold, but that does not explain the tingle her touch sent through my entire body. Her lips mere inches away, tiny fingers holding it vertical, she said, "So you're the one who has been hiding the family jewels."
She enjoyed teasing me. Always had. Two years older than me, I was always the slightly annoying younger cousin she had to entertain and had entertained herself by teasing me in various ways since we were kids. Not once did I ever imagine she might enjoy literal prick teasing, as well.
After staring at it for about 10 seconds, she licked it from stem to stern, then giggled. "What's so funny?"
"I never imagined I'd be licking your cock."
"Me either."
"If you ever say a word about this, next time, I'll bite it off and stuff it in the turkey."
"My lips are sealed!" Just as long as her lips were around my throbbing member, I'd promise her anything.
