It was still dark outside when I woke up on Christmas morning during break. Since I'm long out of the habit of waking up at four and rushing down to tear into my presents, I wondered what had woken me up. We'd had an ice storm recently, but I would have recognized the sound of a car crashing. I put my contacts in and saw that it was six o'clock. My sister and brother-in-law weren't supposed to be here till nine. I took off the T-shirt I'd worn the night before and replaced it with a sweatshirt from my college. It's a little long for my torso, which sometimes comes in handy in the dorm. From my window, I could see someone getting out of a car in front of our house. I put my underwear on and headed downstairs to see who it was. My heart leaped when I saw him walking past the front window.
He'd barely knocked once when I opened the door. He looked at me and asked, "Am I at the right house?"
"Peter!" I said indignantly. "Little sister?"
"Martha?" he asked. I nodded. "You grew up!" I smiled a little when he said it. At first it was only a little smile, but it felt like it got to be a cartoonish grin when I realized that he was looking at my chest when he said it. I stood there for a minute before I remembered that it was December in Minnesota and let him in.
"You haven't been home in so long," I said.
"Afghanistan," he answered. He handed me a box with a bow on it.
I took the bow off. I stepped right up to him and put it on his jacket. "You're my present this year," I said.
"Where's my present?" Peter asked. I mentioned that my sweatshirt is a little long. The neck opening is correspondingly wide, which did not escape Peter's notice. I pulled the collar out a little. I hadn't put a bra on either. "Just what I wanted," he said.
I let go of the collar and lifted the hem. I was glad Peter had closed the door behind him. He put his hands under my shirt and around my waist. At that moment I wasn't sure whether I was happy or unhappy that I'd remembered to put underwear on. When he leaned down and kissed me on the chin, I was glad. I turned my head down so our lips met. He pulled me closer. "I haven't been around a woman in months," he said.
I stepped back and pulled my shirt up so he could see my tits. "Then you haven't seen these in a while?"
He said "Not in person!" and bent down to bury his head between them.
I led him to the couch so he could suck on them without straining himself, and I saw that he was already straining in the crotch of his pants. I put my hand on the bulge. I was about to say something when I heard a noise. I jumped the way a kid does when he thinks he's been caught doing something. Mom and Dad had never caught me less than fully clothed with a boy, and I didn't want my brother to be the first time! "What was that?" I asked.
"What?" Peter asked.
I collected myself. "Never mind. I think it was just an icicle. But that was too close. Let's go downstairs." He followed me through the kitchen to the basement door. We could smell the coffee. It must have been one of those holiday brews, because I could smell peppermint. When we got to the den, he hid his duffel bag under the pool table. I had him stand there, and I sat in front of him. I rubbed his bulge again and said, "I haven't seen one of these in a while, either." I paused for a second and added, "In person."
I reached for the top of his zipper, and we both paused. I didn't pull, and he didn't push on my hand. He just asked, "Is this what we want?"
I nodded and said, "It is." I pulled his zipper down as he unbuckled his belt. His pants fell to the floor, but his boxers stayed up. I could make out his erection even though I couldn't see any of his cock. I reached under his balls and rubbed them. That made his shaft move so the head came out in the open. I put my hand around it and stroked it a few times. Soon the whole shaft was visible. Peter stepped toward me. I ducked a little and licked the underside. He gently pushed my head back and pulled his underwear down. He moved a cue stick out of the way and leaned back on his hands. "Ooh, look what Santa left in my stocking," I joked.
"You must have been nice," Peter said.
"Naughty. Nice. It's all good," I said. His foreskin had retracted on its own, and I licked the exposed crown.
