Author's Note: Everyone in this story is over the age of 18. This is my submission for the
Literotica Winter Holidays Story Contest 2024
. Enjoy!
CHAPTER ONE
"I definitely DON'T wish it could be Christmas every day," I thought, hearing that same damn song starting up for the hundredth time that year.
I'm not a Humbug or anything. Honest.
I was just trying to enjoy a bit of 'me-time' on Christmas Eve morning. You know, let off some steam, before the family descends.
It's tough enough getting some privacy when you live with three women. There's my mom, Laurel, my twenty-two-year-old sister, Holly, and the baby of the family, Bailey, who's eighteen. But this year we'd be hosting our Aunt Joy and cousin Belle. A full house.
Oh, and of course there's me, Buddy, a twenty-year-old dweeb just trying to get his rocks off before...
"When the snow man brings the snow..."
My bedroom door suddenly burst open and my mom waltzed in singing that awful dirge. I yanked the duvet up to my chin as quick as I could, but not quick enough to disguise the festive fapping I'd been enjoying a moment before.
"...well he just might like to...Red Nose of Rudolph!"
The tray of mince pies that my mom had been carrying clattered to the floor as she threw her hands over her eyes. "Buddy, do you have to do THAT on today of all days?"
"Mom!" I yelped, "How many times have I asked you to knock!?"
I watched my mom blindly backing out of my bedroom and groaned. Christmas had barely begun and it was already shaping up to be one to forget.
--
Inside everybody there is always somebody else. Often a lot of somebody elses.
Most days, I'm mostly just me. Teachers pet. Paladin. Admirer of girls from afar. Sometimes I'm a Scrooge, though only once a year.
It's not just the forced fun. Don't get me wrong, I hate a game of charades as much as the next guy. But it's the presents I hate the most. What do you buy for five women? I wouldn't know where to start with one. So predictably, I hadn't even started my shopping that Christmas Eve.
"Can you hurry up in there?" I yelled at the bathroom door, "I need to go to the shops before Aunt Joy arrives!"
"Don't make YOUR disorganisation MY problem!" Holly yelled back over the the noise of the shower.
Having a high performing older sister can be a real drag. A varsity star and straight-A student, Holly landed a sought after legal job straight out of university and somehow still finds time to run track in the national league. Beautiful, athletic, confident, in short, exactly the type of girl that makes my voice break and my palms sweat.
"Holly!" I banged on the bathroom door again, "hurry up!"
I heard a muffled cry and a loud bang, then a pained groan.
"Holly?" I repeated, anxiously, "are you okay?"
"You made me slip, twerp! Get Mom! I think I sprained my ankle."
--
People are amazed we're siblings. My little sister, Bailey, is the complete opposite to Holly. For a start, she's tiny. A pocket-sized bundle of cuteness. Five-two, modest little B-cups, the sweetest smile you ever did see.
"Oh, hey Buddy." Bailey waved as I entered the kitchen, "I wasn't sure if you'd want pancakes, Mom said you were busy."
Did I imagine the blush on my sisters dimpled cheeks?
"Ummm...yeah...I'd love some."
I watched as my sister bounced around the kitchen in a sheer robe that clung tantalisingly to her perky breasts and rued, not for the first time, my bad luck at being related to the three most beautiful women I knew.
"Umm Buddy?"
I dragged my eyes away from my little sister's chest, realising too late that I'd been caught red handed.
"Sorry, miles away," I apologised, "what's up?"
Bailey smiled coyly as she walked over to me and kissed me gently on the cheek.
"Merry Christmas Eve, big brother."
"Oh...gee...to you too," I stammered, "Bailey?"
"Yeah?"
"I think the pancakes are burning."
"Frick!"
--
"I've lost a present, has anyone seen it?"
Our cousin, Belle, was fretting while I packed our station wagon with her and Aunt Joy's bags. Belle takes after her father's side of the family, her latino heritage clear in her olive skin and killer butt, but Aunt Joy is the spitting image of our mom. Blonde, curvy but in shape, in short, the kind of mom your friends want to bang.
And just like our mom, she's Christmas obsessed. Who wears a Missus Claus outfit on Christmas Eve? Aunt Joy does.
"There are presents EVERYWHERE," Joy laughed, pointing to the trunk that was bursting with neatly wrapped gifts, "it'll turn up."
"Don't you think this is a little...excessive, Aunt Joy?" I asked, sweating as I crammed more gifts in the rear of the car.
"Don't be silly, it's Christmas!" Joy laughed, "There's no such thing as too much!"
"Can we please find the gift before we go," Belle begged, "I know it's here somewhere."
"Surely it can wait?" Joy asked.
"It's...uh...a special gift...from a friend...I need to find it."
"We'll find it later," mom insisted, "we need to leave now or we'll miss the Christmas parade."
"I don't know how we're all going to fit in here with all these presents," I grumbled.
"Well if you took driving lessons like I asked you to..." mom said, rolling her eyes.
"I was GOING to start them," I said defensively, "soon..."
"Your Aunt can sit on your lap," mom laughed, "you don't mind sitting on Santa's lap, do you Joy?"
--
If Mom hadn't barged in on me, I might have got to the shower sooner. If I'd got to the shower sooner, Holly might not have slipped and hurt her ankle. If Holly hadn't hurt her ankle, Bailey might have been concentrating on the pancakes. And if the pancakes hadn't burned, I might have had time to find some proper shorts.
As it was, the thin workout shorts were the first thing I could find before mom rushed me out of the house. The lightweight material was all that separated my junk from the little red dress covering my Aunt Joy's tush.
A tush that was already causing a stirring in my loins as she shifted and squirmed on my lap in her efforts to get comfortable.
"Um, Joy, can you stop moving so much?"
"Sorry Santa," Joy giggled, "I guess you're not used to having big girls on your lap."
"It's not that..." I stammered, praying silently that the lump between my legs would stop growing, "it's just..."
"Is that for me?" Joy asked suddenly.
My stomach dropped and I looked in panic over Joy's shoulder at Belle and mom nattering in the front seats.
"Santa, you shouldn't have," Joy purred.
"I...it's not...I didn't..."
"Then again, I have been a very good girl this year."
"Are we nearly there, mom?" I called to the front seat, sweat beading on my forehead.
"Sorry, it's this traffic," Mom said over her shoulder, "Must be the parade."
"Can I open it now, Santa?" Joy asked.
"Open what?" I gulped, trying to ignore the squishy butt rubbing on my expanding yule log.
"The present, duh!"
That's when I saw it, the gift she'd been holding this whole time.
"Umm, sure."
"I know it's early but I just can't wait to see what my favourite nephew has got me."
"You're, um, welcome," I blushed, grateful for the distraction.
"Your gifts are always so...original..." Aunt Joy said, pulling on the ribbon tied neatly around the box, "did you wrap this yourself?"
"Uhuh. All me."
"That's so thoughtf..."
Aunt Joy trailed off as the wrapping paper fell away from the box.
"Do you like it?" I asked, hoping that whatever it is would get me out of this pickle.
"It's..." Aunt Joy's voice was strangely low and faltering, "it's...not very Christmassy, Buddy."
Aunt Joy half turned in my lap, mercifully shifting off the semi-erect log in my pants, and held the box between us. A cold sweat broke over me and the problem in my shorts shrivelled in a heartbeat.
The box had a clear cellophane window and through the window was something I'd only seen online. A shiny, metallic butt plug.
"Is this some kind of a joke?"
"I...no...I didn't..."
"Maybe don't get me anything at all next year. Okay, Buddy?"
Aunt Joy thrust the box into my hand and turned away from me in a sulk. That's when I noticed the tag on the back of the box. I peeled it off and read the writing inside.
"Dear Belle, Hope you enjoy your Christmas stuffing, Lily x"
--
The rest of the day passed exactly as you might have expected. Awkwardly.
Mom kept bugging me about Aunt Joy's unexplained frostiness. Holly only limped out of her room to curse at me. Belle spent the entire evening shaking the gifts under the tree. I didn't have the heart to tell her that her mom had already opened her special present.
All in all, another let down. This is why I don't like Christmas. It never goes like you hope it will.
The only person who didn't seem annoyed at me was Bailey.
"Wanna stay up and catch Santa with me?" Bailey asked after a chilly dinner.
"You know he doesn't exist, right?"
Bailey hooked her arm through mine and pulled me into our den. "Come on, it'll be fun. We can lure him with mince pies."
"I'm pretty sure Coca Cola invented him to sell more soda."
"Just pick a film, dumb-dumb," Bailey said, shoving me towards the couch, "I'm going to change into my comfies."
I poured a whiskey and settled on the couch, reflecting on another day of Christmas misery. It's up there with the worst ever, I mused, flicking through cheesy Hallmark films.
A quiet cough drew my attention to the doorway. Bailey was standing there in her tiny robe, tugging nervously on the hem that rode high on her pearly white thighs.
"Room for a little one?"
"Always," I said, lifting up my blanket and scooching along the couch to make space beside me. "Any preference?"
"Don't mind," Bailey said, snuggling into my side and resting her head on my shoulder, "you choose."
"Night of the Living Dead it is."
Bailey thumped me in the ribs. "Something Christmasy, silly."
"How about...Die Hard?"
"Too violent."
"I thought you said I could chose?"
