Note: This is my entry for the
Winter Holidays Story Contest 2023
contest. I would greatly appreciate your votes and feedback. Feel free to comment or reach out to me directly.
Special thanks to @Midnightmyystryy for editing, reworking my story to make it more readable.
Thank you!!
***************
He had me pinned against the wall, one hand securing my outstretched hands over my head, while the other freely roamed my naked back, claiming my entire body as his territory.
His lips were on mine, demanding, fighting for dominance as opposed to his feather-like touches on my body. My erect nipples were rubbing against his hairy chest, demanding him to pay them some attention.
The heat of his body against mine, the intensity of our closeness took over my senses, with sweat running down our bodies, I wanted more.
I wrapped my right leg around his athletic thighs, pulling him closer, my dripping pussy wanting nothing more than to have him inside me... but he was teasing me, coating himself with my wetness, rubbing I'd up and down my slit, teasing then pulling away.. God! I couldn't take the tease anymore.
My entire body was aching to become one with him.. To devour him entirely.. To ride him forever and ever ... He gave in to my wants, and aligned his erect dick at my inviting pussy.. About to enter ... Just as our moment seemed imminent...
I was jolted awake by the ringtone 'Dream girl missing...I'm always kissing...', signaling a call from my mom.
"Yeah," I mumbled, half-asleep and groggy from the dream.
"Finally!" my mom's voice rang out, "I've been trying to reach you for the past 10 minutes. Aren't you up yet?" she chided, launching into a familiar litany of remarks about my laziness, her words fading into the background of my lingering dream state.
I had almost zoned out until she said, "By the way, Mark took a job near your place in Somerville", jolting me back to reality.
"That's cool", I replied before adding, "Does he have a place to stay? If not, he is most welcome to crash at mine".
"Sweet. I knew I could count on you, Jo. I'll tell your Aunt about your offer", my mom said, relief visible in her tone.
"Anytime, Ma", I replied before hanging up.
Memories started flooding in. Mark was my cousin, my paternal aunt's son.
Even though he was five years younger than me, we practically grew up together since we were kids, our parents' houses were next to each other.
We were inseparable in elementary school. Most of our teachers even thought he was my brother. After Mark's parents took a job in Seattle, at the other end of the country from us in Charlotte, when I was in high school, we kinda grew apart.
As time progressed, and I got busy with my PhD in Microbiology and subsequently a research job that consumed most of my time, I lost touch with Mark, except for the occasional New Years and Birthday wishes.
The last time I saw Mark was ten years ago, when he was on the cusp of puberty. Though he was only a few inches shorter than my 5 feet 8 inches, I remember him being quite sensitive about it. I used to tease him, and he would blush like a pumpkin. "Fun times," I said to myself, smiling as I got ready for work.
My phone pinged with a message from Mom: "Talked to Aunt. She is thankful. Text Mark once. Luv, Mom."
"Yeah, yeah," I chuckled to my phone, reading the message in her tone. I didn't get a chance to reply until lunch.
That's when I sent a message to Mark: "Hey, glad you found a job here. Excited to see you, lil bro. Can't wait. Btw, when are you planning to come down?"
Almost immediately, I got a reply from Mark: "Thx sis. Job starts Jan 8. You gonna be in NC for the holidays or staying put in MA?"
"What are holidays?" I replied, tongue-in-cheek.
"Lol. Then can I come there a bit early, say, around Dec 10?" he asked.
"Done. Let me know once you book your ticket. Luv, sis," I replied before heading back into my lab.
*****
Time flew by, and soon it was December 11th, the day I was supposed to pick Mark up from the airport. Fortunately, his flight was scheduled for late in the evening, allowing me to head there straight from the lab.
I chose a pair of blue jeans and my favorite white blouse with thin black stripes. For footwear, I decided on my Giselle Booties by Kate Spade. I tied my shoulder-length brunette hair into a ponytail and applied some mascara and lip gloss. Taking a good look at myself in the mirror, I felt a little pretty, albeit with a small self-critical thought, "I need to lose those couple of pounds."
There was a sense of nervous excitement about tonight, though I wasn't entirely sure why. After all, it was just my little cousin I was picking up.
There must've been a spring in my step, as my lab partner noticed and remarked, "Someone looks happy."
I felt a blush creep up my cheeks as I replied with a casual, "Yeah, yeah." The rest of the day kept me busy, which helped calm my nerves.
As I left the lab, I checked my phone and saw a text from Mark from a couple of hours earlier: 'Wheels up, sis. See you in a bit."
The weather was really chilly as I drove to the curbside pick-up outside Logan Airport. Scanning the dimly-lit area for Mark's face, I parked behind a Highlander and reached for my glasses to text him when I heard a knock on my window.
Startled, I looked up, half expecting to see a cop, but instead, I found myself staring at the cheerful face of my cousin.
I stepped out of the car and gave him a proper hug and got a peck on my cheek in return.
"'Oh my! He looks like a Greek god," I thought to myself, then quickly chided myself for the inappropriate thought, unsure if he was really that way or the dim light playing tricks on me.
He was now much taller than me, a good six-two, sleek, with a chiseled jaw, chaotic yet orderly blonde hair. And that killer smile, I assumed, reflected his character as much as his personality.
Mentally, I found myself comparing my five-foot-eight, 150-pound frame to his. "Brunette, almost toned tummy enhancing the 36C size, nice ass, long legs, oval face... I like the pair," I thought, before sternly reminding myself, "Jo, he's practically your brother. Get a grip."
Our drive back home was like a Cliff Notes version of our lives over the past ten or so years. He wrapped up his monologue about completing a dual degree in Economics and Software, which landed him his current job at a startup in Somerville. He mentioned a lot of technical jargon that sounded like English, but he might have as well been speaking Latin. I felt a mix of happiness and pride and told him so.
I gave Mark a rundown of my life: the intense breakup with my long-term boyfriend, the depression that followed, how I immersed myself in work to cope, the bad experiences with roommates leading to my current single-bedroom apartment, and my genuine happiness at having him with me, especially over the holiday period.
"Girlfriends?" I asked him, more out of curiosity than anything else. He gazed out the window for a moment before answering, "None right now."
There was a tinge of sadness in his voice, but I chose not to probe further at the moment.
Before I could respond, he continued, "Had a steady one in college, but things fell apart. Maybe it was something I did or said; I never really found out why."
I placed my hand on his thigh in a silent gesture of comfort.
"Or maybe my standards are too high, Jo," he mused.
I tried to lighten the mood. "That could be it, Mark. You're my wonderful brother; having high standards is only natural," I said with a smile.
He gave a wry smile in return. "That's your fault, sis."
I feigned defensiveness. "And how is that my fault, dear brother? I haven't seen you in a decade, remember?"
"Well, it's because you're perfect in every way, and you understand me so well. No one I've dated ever came close to you," he admitted softly, almost to himself, "Doomed to fail."
I was taken aback by his candidness. Before I could respond, we arrived at my apartment complex. I mentally filed his words away for later reflection as we moved his luggage to my tenth-floor apartment.
Once inside, I shed my thick winter jacket and scarf and offered to hang up Mark's jacket. As he removed it, I couldn't help but notice his well-toned body, a stark contrast to the chubby boy I remembered.
Shaking off the thought, I headed to the kitchen to heat up dinner. While it warmed, I showed Mark around, I had even allotted him a portion of my closet—a privilege I had never extended even to my ex, though it did feel like I was giving up a part of my inheritance.
We chatted over dinner about light topics. As we prepared for bed, Mark insisted on sleeping on the sofa, despite my protests. After a long day, I was too tired to argue, so I went to my bedroom to change and grabbed pillows and a comforter for him.
Returning in my shorts and tank top, I found Mark engrossed in work on his laptop. He didn't notice me until I placed the comforter on the sofa.
When he looked up to thank me, I caught a fleeting but intense "look" before he quickly averted his eyes.
I smiled to myself, wished him good night, and fell asleep, pondering the events of the day.
****
The next couple of weeks were hectic for me, with the upcoming holidays, last-minute work to finish, and year-end reports to complete, among other things. Each day, when I returned home late from work, Mark had a hot dinner ready. He had even taken care of the laundry and cleaned up the kitchen. His help was invaluable, and I couldn't thank him enough.
After dinner one day, we picked up some groceries. As we got home, I noticed Mark seemed a bit uncomfortable, so I asked him, "What's wrong, Mark?"
He hesitated briefly before replying, "I think I might have pulled a muscle in my back."
"That's why I told you not to sleep on the sofa," I chided him lightly, firmly resolving the issue of him sleeping there.
As we got ready for bed, Mark removed his t-shirt, commenting, "It's hot, sis," while I donned my socks against the chill. I've never understood why men seem less affected by the cold. He had his comforter, but I noticed he was not using it.
I rolled my eyes saying, "Good night Mark".