By Dawn Ramble
Family Holidays are the best! All characters are over 18.
2021
I've always loved family holidays, not just the immediate family but the big extended family ones like Easter, Independence Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas. Maybe your family doesn't celebrate all of those together but mine did when we were growing up and we still mostly do. Of course, not everyone has a large extended family, but we did. My grandparents' families came from Italy and Greece. The men in our family saw reproduction as a duty and it seemed most of the women got pregnant as soon as you looked at them Contrast that with my best friend Ruby's parents who were recent immigrants from England. They had no other family here, so it was always just her and her two brothers.
And then there are the extended families that are so dysfunctional that the kind of holiday I'm describing is not possible, but our family was never like that. Yes, we had my slightly mad aunt Lou; but everyone kept an eye out for her. And there was Uncle Silas. He was Mom's much younger stepbrother after her father remarried. He was maybe thirty, liked to play the fool and was always a great favourite with the kids. Shortly after my eighteenth birthday he came into my bedroom while I was changing, apologised, but then put his hands on my naked breasts and told me I was beautiful. I was embarrassed and told him it was not appropriate, and he should leave.
That's when he exposed himself and wanted me to touch it. As I say he wasn't that old, and he was rather good looking. Although I was appalled and certainly was not going to touch it, I experienced a flutter in my crotch at my first sight of an erect penis, a large and very erect penis. That's when I slapped him, and he left. I never told anyone but my brother who was two years older than me. He said to tell him if anything like that ever happened again. It never did but the image of that boldly erect penis stuck.
I had always had a crush on my brother, Brad, as a child he was my hero. He always looked out for me. It was a few months later that he, Brad...not Silas, approached me and surprised me by saying that he loved me and if he couldn't have me no one should. It seemed our crush was mutual. His was just a bit more intense. He seemed very serious, but I couldn't help laughing and said, "I'm not going to be virgin forever!"
He looked pissed until I said, "Why can't you just fuck me now, I'm on the pill. We're not going to spawn any three-headed monsters or anything. It's not like we're religious and believe in eternal damnation."
And just like that we locked my bedroom door and we fucked. It wasn't that great, but after a few times we really got the hang of it. It became more therapeutic and less romantic, and in weeks our respective crushes evaporated. I also learned Uncle Silas's giant dick was just a normal size; Brad's was slightly larger. It was just Uncle Silas who was the giant dick!
I met George, my husband to be, at UIC. Like me he was an athlete. I was a long-distance runner, and he was a budding decathlete, competing in multiple events at the college level. We shared some academic classes and although he was a year ahead of me, we graduated together. By then I'd invited him to some of our family gatherings. It turned out he was an orphan from his early teens, and, at first, he found them over whelming but by the time we married he fit right in and enjoyed them as much as I did.
It was when we tried to start a family after a couple of years that I learned we had problems, or at least he had. Outwardly, things down there looked pretty normal, and he could get a solid five-and-a-half-inch erection, definitely within the average range and by then I had experienced a few. I mean only a few. I was not a tramp.
At college before we married, George and I fooled around, and everything seemed to work fine. I mean we liked oral and toys, but we learned the ways to ensure we could both find our way to a climax. After almost a year of trying we had some tests done and learned his sperm count was very low. That's when I learned that at age fifteen, he had been diagnosed with 'delayed puberty'. Whether it was some trauma induced by the loss of his parents or just coincidence didn't matter. He was given a course of testosterone. These were steroids that did what was needed and by eighteen nobody would have known the difference. However, he liked that the steroids helped build his muscle mass and improve his performance especially with events like the discus and shot put, but they may not have been helping his fertility.
By the time he was competing seriously he got clean. He couldn't risk the shame of failing a random drug test. He felt better relying on exercise and diet alone, but his sperm count did not improve significantly, and we started thinking about our choices. He wondered if his training routine might be part of the problem, but his doctor said physical exercise and a good diet with limited alcohol could only be beneficial.
With that in mind he signed up for a specialist coaching clinic at the start of July.
"Come on," I said, "You'll miss the Independence Day Party."
"No one but your family makes a big deal out of Independence Day."
"Excuse me, our family; you are part of it," I replied hotly.
"Okay, I'm sorry, our family, but I still need to go. This clinic isn't just physical training, it's about psychological thinking, getting your game head on and a bunch of other stuff."
"Do they have to run it over that weekend?"
"As I say not everyone sees Independence Day as something other than a time people can get off work and do this kind of stuff."
I could see he was set on it, so I said, "fine, enjoy yourself!"
There was no changing his mind and to some extent he was right. I don't know many families other than us who treat it like Thanksgiving or Christmas. I wasn't even sure what we were going to do. A week or two later we were all invited to my uncle Harry's lakeside cottage for the long holiday weekend. For us, or on this occasion just me, it was a four-hour drive. I was missing George who had left on Tuesday. So, I drove up Thursday evening and when I arrived, I found only Brad had got there before me. I mean Ches, my cousin was there, he's Brad's age, but none of the parents.
The boys, sorry, young men were not expecting me. From the noise I could tell they were out by the dock. I shouted, "Hello!" as I go round the house, and I hear a loud splash followed by another one. There are two six packs of beer and they had clearly had a couple each when I find them swimming by the dock. I'm puzzled what they're doing until I see the piles of clothes by two of the loungers on the dock.
"Hey, you're skinny dipping," I say, smiling, "Looks like fun."
"Hey, yourself, Cindy," says Ches, "Grab a beer unless you want to join us. I mean you're welcome to join us; nobody else is here or expected."
I'm already cracking open a can as I hear the invitation.
"In your dreams," I say, but then realize how hot it is and I say, "Fuck it, I'm in!"
I put down the beer and strip off down to my bra and panties. I dive in and immediately realize these panties weren't mean for diving as I feel them slip to my ankles. I pull them off and swim over and place them on the dock. I undo my bra and place it beside the panties spreading everything out so they can dry in the sunshine.
I know the boys have watched me, so I swim around keeping my distance. Swimming on your front with you head up is tiring so I flip onto my back. Mistake, my boobs poke above the water and my nipples are hard as rocks. The fact is I am feeling my nakedness and enjoying it. Enough, I'm not here to be eye candy for my close kin, even though the idea has its appeal. I tread water so that I'm upright in the water, and everything but my head and shoulders is respectably covered.
"So, what's with the skinny dipping, guys? Is this how you spend your time?"
"We've been busy hauling stuff out of storage. It's my first time up here this season. My parents have been up, but they don't use the kayaks and things until I'm here to get them out."
"If you want to know the truth, we were very sweaty and stripped off to enjoy some beer in the sunshine."
"Two bro's buck-naked," I say laughing.
"Yup, we jumped in when we heard you shout. Didn't want to shock you. It's probably a good thing. I don't know about Ches, but I didn't have any sunscreen on, and I was beginning to feel a burn."
The only thing about Ches that I may not have mentioned is that unlike most of our family, whose heritage is all Mediterranean, he takes after his father. He is classically Scandinavian with a prominent brow and strikingly blond. So, at least in physical appearance his genes dominate.
"Well, I'm about to shock you boys," I say, "because I'm getting out and as you've already realized I'm about as naked as I can get." With that I started climbing the metal ladder on the side of the dock. When I was out, I turned and faced them.
