CHAPTER 1
It was late December 1950 and I, Ralphie Parker, was a nineteen year old sophomore at the university in my hometown.
In English Composition 201, Professor Shields assigned a "What I want for Christmas" theme. She wanted to see what we could do with a juvenile topic.
I wrote an eloquent and humorous paper about why I wanted to get laid for Christmas. It's the gift that every virgin teenager truly wants, so I was confident in my choice of subject.
I got a C+. "Your attempt at humor is crude and obvious," Professor Shields scribbled on my paper. "And you'll contract a disease if you are not careful."
My sister Randi was an eighteen year old freshman at the same university and we both only had morning classes. She met me at my car at noon and we went to my friend Flick's house.
Randi was nearly six feet tall and willowy slim, except for mountainous boobs and a perky round butt. Her face was often compared to Ingrid Bergman and she had long blonde hair that was always in a ponytail.
Needless to say, Randi was extremely popular on campus but she still spent a lot of time with me. We were best friends as well as siblings.
That day my sister wore a red sweater and a black knee-length pencil skirt that hugged the contours of her butt and legs. She made the simple outfit look like a million bucks.
My friend Flick tended bar at a restaurant downtown, so he was always available to hang out during the day. He also had a bottomless supply of booze swiped from work.
"You wrote a paper about wanting to get laid for Christmas?" Flick asked and laughed. "You have more guts than brains, pal."
My sister giggled too. She took a sip of the Tom Collins cocktail Flick made for her and rested her head on my shoulder. "Maybe your professor thought you were propositioning her, Ralphie," Randi teased.
"At this point I'd consider doing it with the old battleaxe," I grumbled and took a swig of beer.
Randi and Flick laughed. "Ralphie, do you ever think about anything but losing your virginity?" Flick asked.
"No."
They laughed again. I took Randi home before she got drunk.
CHAPTER 2
At dinner that evening, Dad asked Mom, "Darling, what do you want for Christmas?"
"A Winchester 94 rifle and plenty of ammo," Mom exclaimed.
We all stared at her.
"What? I like guns."
I shook my head. "Those things are dangerous. You could shoot your foot off."
CHAPTER 3
"You'll be late for class," Mom yelled upstairs the next morning.
My sister Randi and I bounded down the stairs and skidded to a stop at the kitchen table. We gobbled plates of pancakes and bacon.
"How do Mommy's little piggies eat?" Mom asked with a laugh. It was a running joke in our family.
"Oink oink," Randi answered and giggled.
We grabbed our coats and hurried to my car. My father was an Oldsmobile man and I inherited this one to drive me and my sister to college. The goddamned Olds was hard to start, but fortunately it turned over after just three tries that morning.
We arrived at the university twenty minutes later ... and the first person we saw was Scut Farkus, a linebacker on the football team.
"Hey, Randi," he said, leering at my sister with his yellow eyes. So help me God, yellow eyes. "When are you going to go out with me, babe?"
"Never, Scut. You're a loser," my sister bravely replied.
His anger flared and he grabbed her arm. "I'll show you who's a loser, bitch!"
As I prepared to come to my sister's defense, I heard a loud voice ask, "Is there a problem here, Farkus?"
The authoritative voice belonged to Rock Nelson, the head coach of the football team. He'd appeared out of nowhere.
Scut released Randi's arm. "No, coach. No problem," he answered fearfully.
"Then get to class and stop bothering Ms Parker." Scut scurried away. "Are you okay, Randi?" the coach asked.
Randi smiled. "I'm fine, Rock. Thank you."
The coach left and Randi and I walked toward our classes. "How do you know the coach?" I inquired.
She blushed and gave me an enigmatic smile. "You know how it is. Men introduce themselves to me all the time."
CHAPTER 4
"I won a major award!" the old man called out that night when he arrived home from work.
"For what?" Mom inquired.
"A contest in the newspaper. I won! I won! I won!" He set a large box on the floor. "This is the prize," he explained.
The old man opened the box and rooted around in the packing materials. "Holy smoke. Do you know what this is? A lamp!"
The lamp was shaped like a leg. A sexy female leg. In a fishnet stocking and a black high-heel shoe.
Dad set the lamp on a table by the front window and turned it on. Nothing could have dragged my eyes away from the soft glow of electric sex gleaming in the window.
"It looks like my leg, Daddy," Randi giggled. "You gave me those same stockings."
"It's not as nice as your legs, honey, but it's not bad," Dad replied.
Mom frowned. "It looks like a sign for a whore house."
I reached out and stroked the fishnet stocking on the plastic leg. Damn, I needed to get laid.
CHAPTER 5
Early Christmas morning, Randi burst into my bedroom and shook me awake. "Wake up, Ralphie! It's time for presents! Get up," she begged.
I groaned and opened an eye. I caught a glimpse of my sister and both eyes flew open wide. She was wearing a sheer red babydoll nightie. She hopped in excitement and her big tits threatened to escape the nightie's grasp.
She grabbed my arm and pulled me out of bed. I followed her downstairs in my pajamas.
Randi knelt by the Christmas tree, still clad only in the thin nightie, and looked at the tags on presents. She literally quivered with anticipation.
Mom and Dad appeared, yawning and looking sleepy. "Ralphie, you play Santa," Mom suggested. "And give Randi one of her presents before she has a stroke."
I dutifully passed out presents. Randi got a necklace from our parents. I got socks. The old man got a bowling ball. Mom got a lingerie set from Randi that made her blush.
"This is from Aunt Clara," I said and handed the gift to Randi.
"She always gives you such wonderful presents," Mom commented.
"Heh," my dad scoffed under his breath. "We all know why that is."
Aunt Clara was an eccentric who habitually wore pants and had never married. She spoiled my sister and Randi encouraged it by lavishing attention on the woman when she visited. Randi was rewarded with expensive gifts like diamonds and pearls. Aunt Clara even took my sister on a week vacation to Paris.
Randi tore away the wrapping paper and opened the box. She examined the contents for a moment, then her eyes lit up. "It's a Playboy Bunny costume!"
