Exiting the boring, damned interstate, the red sports car breathed a sigh of relief. Not designed for the lengthy, high speed stretches Paul eased around the curvy, countrified roads of Fairfield, Connecticut and she responded with gratitude.
It was the day before Thanksgiving and a bitter wind whooshed through the leafless trees. The forests here were pristine and dotted with expensive homes and mini estates. Paul passed the lonely but quaint convenience store and smiled at the small, new sign that advertised video rentals.
One half mile later he turned right onto Sandlapper Lane and the familiar neighborhood they'd grown up in. Paul relaxed now after what seemed like an interminable, tense drive and pulled into the wide driveway sprinkled with acorns and brownish leaves.
Inside the three season porch, Paul tucked the bottle of wine under one arm and balanced his heavy duffle bag while opening the heavy wooden kitchen door.
"Anybody home?" he announced inhaling the wonderful cooking aromas from within. His aproned Mom darted out of the pantry, wiping her hands on a dishtowel and beamed one of her classic smiles.
"There you are! Ohh...I've missed you..." kissing Paul's cheek and hugging him tightly.
"How was the drive? Are you hungry? Do you...?"
"Slow down there..." Paul chuckled at her warm greetings, "Where is everyone?"
"Oh your Dad's gone into town for a few things, Sherry's in the living room...I think and Aunt Sarah's not feeling well. She's...you know..." Paul did know. One of his favorite Aunt's, Sarah had been fighting a series of illnesses the past year.
"Man...it's great to be home!" Hugged his Mom again and handed her the wine, "This is my donation for turkey day."
Paul walked through the formal dining are, over the flagstone entryway and about to trudge up the stairs when he saw her in the quiet living room. His sister Sherry was perched on an ottoman meticulously painting her toenails. Her thick red hair was tied back with a white ribbon. Sherry's chin rested atop the knee clad in frumpy gray sweatpants.
"Hey sis..." Paul said, dropping his bag and moving towards her.
"Hello brother dear. Heard you come in..." Sherry looked up, "think I could've heard you down the block..." she teasingly stuck out her tongue.
"Yeah, I love you too." Paul smiled and teased back staring into those deep, alluring eyes. Against alabaster feet the blood red polish was beautiful and shiny. Leaning over for a kiss, Paul stared at Sherry's freckled cleavage and full breasts down the front of her loose white blouse. Their lips touched.
"Mmm...no bra. What a hussy..." Paul whispered.
"You love it."
"Panties?"
"I'll never tell. Hey bro...I missed you. Kiss me again." Sherry urged, pursing her lips. Paul kissed her full mouth, the tip of her tongue darted up causing his pecker to instinctively react.
"I missed you too sis..." He said truthfully.
Upstairs in his familiar bedroom, Paul kicked off his shoes and unpacked. Placing the laptop on his maple desk, he silently vowed to not turn the machine on. There was always a paper that needed tweaking or research work but he thought, fuck it, I'm on break.
The family sat around the dinner table laughing about old times and after KP duty they retired into the comfy den. Darkness arrived early; Paul started a fire in the stone hearth. Sherry soon went upstairs to draw so Paul and his parents leisurely talked over all the happenings in their lives.
The long drive and radiant warmth took its toll and Paul said goodnight. He tapped on Sherry's half open door and peered inside at his sister in front of the easel.
"Nite sis. I'm wicked tired."
"G'night Paul..." Sherry looked up, smiled and blew him a kiss. "Sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite."
Snuggling under the flannel sheets and thick quilt Paul's eyes closed rapidly. A deep sense of security enveloped him while drifting off. Home sweet home.
He was walking through strange woods following a distinct path but he had the impression of wandering. Am I looking for something? Tasseled leaves brushed against his legs, upright arms kept the bothersome vegetation from his face.
It was warm, almost humid and he felt good barefoot and wearing only shorts. Something rustled in the nearby growth and he froze in his tracks and listened. An animal? Deer? Paul detected the smell of smoke. Where the hell am I? He laughed aloud. This must be a dream. Ha!
He now moved stealthily between thick trees as if he were hunting and came to a sunlit clearing. The girl was nude and hunched over a small fire with her back towards Paul. Was she cooking? She stood and stretched. Unseen, he stared at her taut leg muscles and admired a fine, dimpled ass. His pulse quickened.
"Oh...hi!" she said, swiveling to meet his gaze. Long black hair reached her shoulders and Paul ogled her luscious, naked breasts.
"I've been waiting..." she hinted and Paul had no clue who the girl with a plain face and no makeup was. Their cheeks touched. Soft. Her hair was damp and sweet.
"I-I-I don't know who you are." Paul stammered.
"Yes you do." Against Paul's crotch insistent fingers unzipped and curled around his engorged penis.
"Mmm! You're big...I like that..." she said. Paul moaned as she began jerking him off...
Dim sunlight stole into the bedroom. His eyelids blinked lazily and Paul realized he was grasping a thick, piss hardon. Pulling the covers back over his head he thought: Don't go! Come back whoever you are! He wished the dream to return but the urgent need to pee was overwhelming.
Dressed in pj's and a bathrobe Paul sat on the bar stool next to the tiled, rectangular island in the busy kitchen.
"Morning dear..." his Mom said while pouring coffee, "Bird's in the oven..."
"Morning and happy Thanksgiving." Allowing her to concentrate on the coordinated cooking, Paul took his coffee into the front room. Passing the fruit pies on the sideboard, he smiles at the thought of all the good food to come.
The dippy Macy's parade was on TV and Paul darted outside to retrieve the newspaper. White frost covered the lawn and unraked leaves and Paul shivered from the blast of artic temperatures. He hustled to the end of the walk and glanced up at the small patches of blue sky being quickly erased by a blanket of clouds. A winter storm was on the way.
A sumptuous, decadent feast awaited the family. An array of mouthwatering recipes covered the mahogany sideboard and the festive, candlelit table. As was their custom, they reverently clasped hands, blessed the food and each member gave a personal rendition of what they were thankful for.
No sooner has they begun the magnificent meal when Sherry pointed and gleefully yelped, "Look!" Prompted, they stared through the tall windows at the large snowflakes falling effortlessly. Superb wine and old man winter roaring outside added to the cozy atmosphere.
"Happy Thanksgiving!" Sherry chirped into the phone an hour later. "Oh hi Aunt Sarah...yes we already ate...wish you could've been here...we're just lounging around now...okay, hold on." Handing the cordless to her Dad.
After a short conference in the kitchen, the parents announced they'd be driving over to Sarah's home which was 45 minutes to an hour through the winding back roads of Connecticut. "Yes...she's alright, we're just going to keep her company and check on everything. Yes, I know the roads are bad but we're taking the Jeep and will go extra slow."
Sherry prepared a huge plate of food and goodies for them to take along. "Don't worry...Paul and I will clean up here. Just be careful out there."
The available football games broadcasted were uninteresting and lopsided. With the official start of the holiday season, a host of classic Christmas movies were rerun. Paul had sifted through the sections of the newspaper. Placated with a full stomach and the ultimate quiet, dozed on the long, comfortable couch.
Miles away the ring tone was unforgiving. Paul tossed aside the knit afghan, bolted upright and reached for the nearby pest on the polished end table.
"Did I wake you?" Dad laughed.
"Umm, yeah. Where are you?" Mr. Farrell filled him in. They were still at Dad's older and only sister's house. She was fine but very tired. The roads were a mess and at this hour they had decided to stay overnight and keep her company.
Paul was surprised that he'd napped so long. It was pitch black outside. Flipping on the garage floodlights, Paul was astonished by the accumulation of snow on the ground that nearly covered his car. Icy, windswept pellets tapped against the glass.
He shivered involuntarily. What a great night to be stuck or stranded inside, Paul thought cozily. Plenty of food and firewood and...of course! Sherry! We're alone...at last...all night. How many times have I wished for this moment?
Sherry was working intently on the intricate landscape and lost in the solitude of complete, free time. Dressed in the same frumpy, grey sweat pants, her faded tee shirt was daubed with the similar colors of her artwork. She barely heard her brother in the doorway.
