"You look great in that outfit. I'm going to Hell after the Christmas miracle at church."
"Thanks—I think. Before you go to Hell, though, come here."
She walked toward the doorway to the kitchen, where she turned with one hand against the doorframe. Her eyes went up to a little sprig of mistletoe tied with a red ribbon above her.
I didn't need more encouragement. Her tongue went straight into my mouth and her hand gripped my Yule log through my pants. I popped the first button on her vest.
"Uh-uh," she said, tongue still in my mouth, then backed a step away. "They will catch us."
"Good. Not like they don't suspect."
"No! It will ruin Christmas for everyone!"
"Not for me. Probably not so much for you, either."
"Be a good boy and go upstairs." It took all my strength, but no means no, so I sulked away toward the stairs. "Don't worry—you are on my naughty list!"
"And you're on mine!"
Not five minutes later I was in the bathroom rubbing out some Christmas joy when I got a text. I almost didn't look, but figured no one else could be texting me that late on Christmas Eve. Sure enough, it was from Ginnie.
Merry Christmas!!!!!! & lt;3
And, there was a selfie.
On the bed behind her, I saw Ginnie's Christmas vest, shirt, and pants. A tiny bit of red fabric must have been a thong. There she stood, with a green bow taped to one nipple and a red one to the other. Around her waist she had tied a wide ribbon, and a giant pink bow large enough to hide her bush behind.
I want to unwrap my present!
Typed with my left thumb, I have no idea how that came out spelled correctly, but my right hand was occupied.
Don't worry—Xmas tomorrow!
That's when my nut busted. I took a selfie of my O-face and sent it back to her, and she sent back a smiley face with hearts as eyes and one with the tongue out.
I stayed in the bathroom with that selfie long enough to rub out another one.
We have a Christmas tradition that goes back to when we were kids. Mom makes pancakes with red and green dyed batter she prepares the day before. Dad builds a fire in the fireplace next to the Christmas tree. Before breakfast, the kids open their presents, because what kid can sit through breakfast with presents under the tree? Since there was only my alleged niece now, Minnie would go before we ate.
Everyone wore PJs until noon or so, after we opened all the presents. Mom and Dad and Kellie and I and Minnie all wore robes. Not Ginnie.
When she was 13 or 14, my parents gave her footie PJs for Christmas, red and white striped like a delicious candy cane and with one of those button-up flaps in back so you don't have to take them off to go to the toilet. Ginnie must have found them somewhere in her room. When she got them, she probably weighed 75 pounds and the flannel fabric fit loose. Now, maybe 115, 120 pounds, the candy stripes were painted over her taut body.
Our mother scowled at her. "Don't you need a robe? You'll freeze!"
"This is so warm!" she said.
Wrong. It was smoking hot! Seriously, body paint would not have been tighter. Nipples puffed out in front, along with occasional flashes of camel toe, although that was the only area of even slight slack on the outfit. In back, the buttons strained against the lovely, round shape of her ass, and I immediately started wishing for another Xmas miracle—for one or, preferably, both buttons to shoot off so the drawer would fall open.
After adjusting myself and piling plenty of loose robe on top of my lap, I drooled as she handed Minnie present after present, reading who they were from out loud with each one she handed our little girl. "This one's from your uncle."
"Thank you, Uncle!" She gave me a big hug after each one, as she gave everybody after their gifts.
"This one is from your uncle and Aunt Kellie!"
Her nipples were beautiful, straining the decade-old fabric with every move as she reached for every present and handed them over one by one. She had those footie PJs zipped all the way up so that the only skin visible was from her neck up and her hands, but looking sexier would have been an impossibility.
Our dad asked, "Aren't you chilly down on the floor?"
Ah, so he noticed her nipples, too, drawn up tight and hard. I imagined, when she reached so alluringly for a present to hand to Minnie, how soft the old fabric felt inside. Bent over on all fours to reach a red box on the far side of the tree, and she read the tag. "Oh, this one's for you, Mama! How 'bout we each open one before we eat?"
Everyone liked the idea, so she crawled on one hand and her knees to hand it to mother on the far side of the room. The catlike way she moved, her back rigid and straight—did she have any idea how amazing she looked? With Kellie sitting right next to me, much of the time I had to use my peripheral vision, but Ginnie and Minnie made such a show of it, not only did they attract everyone's full attention but gave me an excuse to stare.
Breakfast was torture. While I did try to avert my eyes and pretend to have interest in the green and red pancakes dripping with syrup, she sat directly across from me, making it hard to avoid, in every way. She and I volunteered for cleanup duty, and when I carried some plates and utensils into the kitchen, she was straining that little trap door even more bending over loading the dishwasher. Presumably waiting for me to show up with my load.
I brushed up against her in a way that may have looked innocently as I walked by. "Love the way you wrapped my present."
"You do? I hoped you might."
"Are those the same footies you had back in high school?"
"Middle school, I think."
"I remember them. I used to think about popping those flap buttons as a prank. Come to think of it, that may be the first time I ever really thought about your ass."
"I would have killed you!"
After a quick glance around to make sure everyone else was in the living room for the adults' presents, I answered, "And now?"
"Depends on when and where you pop the buttons."
"Now not popping the buttons is killing me."
"Well, we are alone..."
From where I stood, I could see through the doorway into the living room the back of my wife's head. Minnie and our parents were somewhere out of my line of sight, but I took the opportunity, unbuttoning one of the buttons. The way her little, round adult ass filled out her tween PJs made the flap snap down, stretched as it was, revealing a large triangle of pink skin and the top half of her crack. Of course I slapped it.
"Anyone want more coffee?" I called out over my shoulder.
"Me three," Mom answered. That bought us a little time, so I groped her ass while she ground the coffee beans and again while she filled the water. I was standing behind her still feeling her ass when we heard our father's voice close behind us.
"Here's my mug." Ginnie spun away so her ass faced the counter and I tried to make it look like my hand hadn't been on it, but luckily he walked up from behind, so my body must have blocked his view. My sister's face turned red as the stripes on her PJs. "What are y'all doing in here?"
"Nothing," she answered.
"Just making coffee," I stammered.
"Are you enjoying your Christmas morning?"
"Sure am," she said.
"Very much so," I added.
Our father obliviously kept chatting. "You probably had more fun as kids."
"I wouldn't say that," I answered
"It is fun having a granddaughter around at Christmas. Kids enjoy it so much."
Ginnie exhaled deeply in relief and said, "I still enjoy it. Maybe I'm still a kid."
"No, you're all grown up now," I said, and she gave me a look that warned me to shut the fuck up.
Father said, "Ginnie, is there more Sweet 'N Lo in the cabinet?"
With a desperate look on her face, she stared into my eyes with a look that begged for help. The cabinet where they kept it was right behind her head. If she turned, our father would get an eyeful, not to mention he likely would figure that button did not magically pop loose while her butt leaned against the utensil drawer. I gave a slight shrug of my shoulders. I had no clue what to do.
"Isn't it on the table?"
"No, I had the last one."
"I'm pretty sure there isn't any more."
"Nonsense," our father answered. "I bought a new pack Monday, to make sure we did not run out over the holiday."
"Oh, for crying out loud," I said, pretending she was just an idiot and not hiding bareass, and reached over her and opened the cabinet. Ginnie had to duck her head and I pulled the nearly full box out and handed it to our dad. The coffeemaker sputtered, signaling the pot was almost ready, so I said, "Go sit down, I'll bring your cup in and we can get to our presents."
Holding our hands over our mouths, we laughed until our faces were purple and the coffeepot finished up. Ginnie turned to allow me the fun of buttoning her flap, and I pinched her lovely little ass for good measure before I did. The incident scared her enough to behave herself while unwrapping the rest of the presents. Minnie was playing with a baby glockenspiel, banging out random notes when Kellie's family called.
"If you don't mind, I'll take this upstairs where it's quiet," she said.
We did not mind.
Mother was playing with Minnie and Father was reading a book he received when we slipped out unnoticed. "Holy shit! I thought he caught us," Ginnie said when we got halfway down the hallway. "We got lucky!"
"Speaking of getting lucky," I said and shoved her into the downstairs half bath and locked the door. "I want to unwrap my present."
Backing away, she said "You do, huh?"
There was nowhere for her to go there in the smallest room in the house. Not that she wanted to get away. When she backed into the wall, she turned and wiggled her little ass at me. This time, I popped both buttons.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: my sister has the most perfect ass on earth. Sticking out of that open trap door, it looked carved from pink marble. I untied my robe and had my pajama pants around my ankles in about two seconds. My rod had been stiff for about three hours by then. Stepping her left leg wide to the side, Ginnie bent forward and leaned both arms straight against the wall.
She was so wet I have no idea how she had not soaked through her PJs. With one hard, desperate thrust I plunged as deep inside my sister as the position allowed, and she gasped and pushed her butt back slightly. I took those breasts that had been bewitching me all morning in both hands and squeezed them like stress balls. After a few squeezes, I felt around for those nipples straining the flannel and heard myself grunt with my thrust.
"Slow down," she gasped. "No rush."
Still holding one boob in my left hand, with the other I unzipped that amazing onesie down to the end of the zipper down near her bellybutton, yanking it open and off her right shoulder so I could touch the skin of her breast, to fondle that puffy nipple with two gentle fingers. Our bodies moved as smoothly as a Ferrari engine. Even after giving birth, she was tight as when she deflowered me when we were teens.
My hips made a slapping noise against the flesh of her ass about once a second. I came before she did, moaning through my nose as I pressed my lips together to keep from fucking screaming loud enough to alert the whole family what she was giving me for Christmas. My knees almost buckled, but I held onto both boobs, one still through the fabric, and shot after shot of jism into her. It might have been the most intense orgasm I had since that first night she sucked me off back in college.
I don't know about you, but when I have wood for a long time, it does not go away soon after an orgasm. Sometimes I need to bend over to pee because it stays hard so long. Ginnie knew that, of course, and took advantage of that fact as she had so many times before. After sitting my ass down on the toilet lid, she started peeling off her bodysuit, but I was having none of that.
"No fucking way!"
She had it off both shoulders. "What's wrong?"
I reached around the small of her back and pulled her toward me, and she straddled the toilet and stuck her boobs in my face. "Keep it on. You look..." I stopped to suck one breast, "amazing. The most beautiful Christmas present ever."
So, she pulled the open flap forward and lowered herself on my still-stiff cock, raising herself slowly while I sucked her beautiful pink nipple hard enough to give her tit a hickey. My schmoo had lubed her insides velvety. "I don't want to hurt you...again."
They say a broken bone heals stronger than before it broke. I have no idea if that applies to the bone she had inside her, but she was right. Trying to explain how she broke my cock a second time in a little over a month probably would not fly. Then again, I'd already come once, and now she could use me however she wanted to get herself off. And the longer it took, the longer I would enjoy it.
The way my sister moves when she is on top is one of those wonders of nature. Her slender body moves in waves. Since that night she took my virginity, her motions have evolved, and the way she arched her back in a wave to her shoulders reminded me that day of somewhere between an Olympic ice skater and the best stripper on earth. I stopped sucking her nipples to watch the magnificent sight in wonder.
And she did use me. She ground her hips to drive her little button against the top of my cock in that way only she does. I can only imagine how it feels to her, but for me, it is such an intense sensation it usually makes me come too soon. But she was entitled to a present on Christmas morning same as me, so I fucking bit my tongue. I literally tasted blood. It took her five minutes or so, but finally she started making that special sound, that musical note she makes when she starts to come.
Quietly, though, this time. I almost wished we were parked a half mile away in the car so she could let it ring out loud.
Thirty seconds into her orgasm, her stomach moving in the chaotic waves it makes when the pleasure takes her body, I shot another load of DNA deep inside her. She rubbed one boob against my face, and I used the other one as a stress ball again. Her breast are so sensitive, it really gets her off.
Then, holding my cheeks with both hands, she kissed me for the first time that day, her tongue slowly, firmly taking mine while her hips still slowly moved up and down with me still inside until, finally, my cock was worn out and shrank out of her.
I left her there to clean up, because those footie PJs made a cumstain impossible to hide and even more impossible to explain. It was like 11:30 Christmas morning, and I had received the most delicious gift of my life.
And there was still the rest of the day to go.
Mary fucking Christmas, everyone! [sic] And may all your Christmas dreams come true!
© de Vere Literary, LLC, 2020