Happy Holidays 10

Hey guys! Thanks you so much for those that have recently read my work. I know it has been a minute since I dropped a story and you all have waited do patiently. Here's one for you just in time for the holiday season! Please enjoy!

Note: This story does NOT reflect my thoughts or ideology towards anyone's religion or religious practices. It is entirely fiction and my own perception. Also; as always, all sexual participants are of legal 18 years of age or older.

*****

The airport was packed as was expected. It had been seven years since I had been in the R-DI (Raleigh-Durham International) airport and as far as I was concerned, nothing had changed. Grabbing my bags off the baggage carousel, I was surrounded by people going about their business. My presence here in many ways no different than my existence everywhere else I went. I was invisible. A streak at the edge of your eye. A slight movement that caught your attention but didn't disturb your reverie. My name is Daniel Brownlow. I was born not too far from here in Holly Springs. The last child of Gene and Charise Brownlow. A pair of highly educated, deeply religious black people. I bet the two young people that met at Notre Dame had no idea that 30 years later, they would be the progenitors of 5 children that grew up so well. Well...except the last two.

Their oldest Peter is the regional manager for one of the biggest online shipping and receiving companies in the world. Their next child Paul would go all the way to Paris and train to be one of the most sought-after Culinary artists in the world. Their first daughter Deborah would marry one of the highest-ranking black Marines in the US. Going so far as to have spent a little time with Michelle Obama for tea once or twice. And that's not counting the fact she serves on the Board of Regents for the West Virginia school system. Then there's me and my older sister Hannah. We were the last two because Hannah was supposed to be the last. But I turned out to be the "oops" baby they didn't expect. Hannah and I are only separated by 10 months and for the majority of our lives, we were inseparable. By the time we came along, our older siblings were nearing the end of elementary school, so they had their own lives. So, Hannah and I became each other's best friends.

As I drove through the snowy streets in my rental car, my mind wandered back through the years. The time that Hannah had to endure braces, I had to wear glasses. The time she broke her arm playing football with me. The time I broke my ankle trying to roller skate with her. Teatime in the back yard, living room Army battles, playing ballet recitals, and chasing each other with garden snakes. My childhood with Hannah was incredible. But then, puberty changed everything. I was the first to notice Hannah's bodily changes. The day her chest grew, and her butt got bigger. Or the day she was sent home early because she bled right through her school uniform. Or the way she teased me when I walked to the breakfast table with my first "woody," or the way she laughed so hard when my voice changed. Neither of us really knew what was happening. And how could we?

Our parents are STRICT practicing Catholics. Sex was simply not something we talked about around the dinner table. Going to our parents was a practice in utter futility. Immovable brick walls the both of them. Nor was going to our siblings any better. I can't account for what Deborah told Hannah, but I know the "Birds and Bees" talk I got from BOTH Peter and Paul was about as useful as asking a Rubix Cube the meaning of life. I just came out with more questions than answers. As for school...forget it. Going to "Our Sisters of Perpetual Faith" Catholic school and asking about sex was certainly NOT on the agenda. We both sat through their ridged "Sex Ed" program (separately of course), and I was sure that the end would result in my three newest "best friends" being chopped off or mutilated in some way.

Getting off the freeway, my mind took in the scenery of the familiar, old stomping grounds of my parents' home. As I coasted to a stop watching the children throw snow dust at one another, I remembered back to when everything changed. It was at Catholic summer camp. Because of our closeness, Hannah and I ran in pretty much the same social group of friends, we had volunteered to be summer counselors. A fun and exciting time as we were finally old enough to be trusted out of the majority control of adults. Sitting over a campfire after the younger children were asleep, our group of friends all got together to talk and "hook up" (which was the whole purpose of volunteering in the first place). The game of "Could you, would you" became the topic of discussion amongst the gathering. It was Lenny Pierce that started it all. He initially challenged our friends Brien and Tristan (first cousins from Ohio) if they would kiss. Needless to say, Brien was all for it. Tristan on the other hand was not even interested in the slightest. When it came to my turn, Tristan, kept it going.

"OK Danny...is there any girl here you wouldn't FUCK?!"

"Huh? Are you serious?!"

"Yes. Is there any girl in this group you wouldn't fuck?! Or you could always take the dare."

For a moment, my mind went blank. Looking around the fire, I saw many pretty girls, a few I WISHED I could fuck. But I forgot to look to my right. Forgot all about my sister Hannah.

"Naw." I said, my bravado and my hormones leading the charge. "Not one here at all."

"OH MY GOD!! You'd fuck HANNAH?!! WOW!!"

"UH HEMMMMM!" The corrective voice came. Slowly it dawned on me I was set up.

The fury in Hannah's eyes burned through the half-lit space between us.

"So, you mean to tell me that you would fuck ME doofus?!!" Hannah scolded.

"OH NO!! I would NEVER think of doing THAT Hannah!!" I corrected my mistake.

"OH! SO, WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY?! I'M NOT GOOD LOOKING ENOUGH?!!"

"NO!! I MEAN...YES...I-I-I-I DON'T KNOW!!"

Without another word, Hannah marched off into the darkness. A trail of pisstivity in her wake. Without thinking I gathered myself up and left the circle of our friends in a state of absolute hysterics laughing at my faux pas. In a sprint, I caught up with her soon after she escaped into the tree line headed back in the direction of the female cabins. Quickly, I grabbed her arm and spun her around to face me.

"Let me go perv!"

"Look...I-I-I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"No SHIT SHERLOCK!! I saw the answer to that one a mile away!! What was so much on your mind that you would forget all about ME?!!"

"Look I'm SORRY all right?! The question caught me off guard. Besides; it's just a stupid game. Why are you so pissed-off? It's not like I'm your type of guy anyway."

"HOW DO YOU KNOW?! HOW DO ANY OF YOU KNOW WHAT KIND OF GUY I LIKE?!!"

The realization of what she said hit me like a ton of bricks. Like a lot of things that were said that night...I was not ready for it.

"Wait...REALLY?! B-B-B-But, I'm your brother."

"Yeah...AND?!!" Hannah sniffed. The first tears beginning to fall.

"Ok...what is this REALLY about?" I asked moving closer.

"Forget it...it's not..."

"Important?" I ended her sentence. Since about 9-10 Hannah and I had grown so close that we could complete each other's sentences. It drove our parents nuts.

"Who is it? I finished.

In the dim light of the moon that night, for the first time ever, I took in my older sister's body. Not as a brother, but as an overly hormonal young man. A round, cherubic face. A body that at the time was considered "plump," but later became known as "thick." A short body topped with a bountiful chest, a little pudge in the middle, and an ass you could bounce quarters off of and get change. But it was her eyes that astounded me the most. Deep, chocolate orbs that captured light and reflected a beautiful soul no matter where she was. It was those eyes I looked into that night that made my heart skip a beat.

"Ronnie." She said. "I like Ronnie Law. But, he's all hugged up with Crystal. Most of the other guys don't even pay me any attention."

"Ok...big deal. You think I like being out here by myself?"

"But you have Stacy all underneath you like white on rice."

"Stacy? PLEASE!!" I snapped back. "You know why Stacy is all underneath me? Because she heard black guys have big THINGS and she wants to see MINE. Beside, according to Patrick, he had Stacy the third day we were out here! I'm not getting anybody's sloppy seconds, nor am I being anyone's disrespectful SCIENCE PROJECT!"

"I just...I just wanted to be done with it you know?" Hannah whispered.

"Be done with what?"

"M-m-m-my virginity."

"Huh?!!"

"That was MY reason for coming out here. I was hoping to lose my virginity. It's impossible back home. None of the guys I like are available and you know how Mom and Dad are. I'll be an old MAID by the time I get some."

"Do you think it's any better for me? Every time I get CLOSE to a girl, something messes it up. I had to go to that pathetic "Sadye Hawkins" dance. I ALMOST got to touch Michelle Turner's breast while we were dancing, and I DAMN NEAR got thrown out for that! And I can't tell you how many times I have gotten phone numbers of girls at the mall, just for Dad to screw it up because the girl wasn't Catholic, or she was too old. Imagine that...a 19-year-old girl being too OLD! So, why were you so mad that I said I wasn't "your kind of guy?"

Hannah was silent for a second before she answered.

"I don't know. I mean...if everything were different; I would find you very attractive. I mean...you complete me. We are so much alike. You're loving, charming, goofy as hell, and just an all-around sweet guy. If you WEREN'T my brother, I could definitely see you being a guy I could fall for." Hannah chuckled. "Listen to me." She sniffed. "I must be out of my head for saying that. Just forget everything I said ok?"

I touched Hannah's chin and turned it to me. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds.

"No. I could NEVER forget something like that. Because sister or not...I think you are one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen. I have for a very long time. I just didn't want to make you mad for thinking of you like that. So, if you're crazy for thinking that way about your brother, I must be just as crazy because my sister is fine as hell."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better. Thanks...but I know better. I've seen the way you look at all those other girls back there. I mean...look at me. They're all thin and I'm definitely NOT THAT."

"No...I'm dead ass serious."

Hannah laughed. "Boy...STO..."

Hannah's statement was ended as our mouths mashed together. Her lips wet and sweet like I imagined fine wine to taste like. The first one was tentative. A leap of faith on my part to see if she was serious. I waited to feel the slap come next. One heartbeat. Then two. The second kiss was magical. Our tongues dancing to a tune that only our hearts could hear. And we were free in that moment. Sister or not, for my first kiss; I knew what it felt like to dance on clouds. It was better than anything I had ever felt in my wildest wet dreams.

The succeeding weeks after Summer Camp was magical and mischievous. Hannah and I stole private moments whenever we could. Slowly discovering our sexuality in the absence of other willing participants. A kiss here, a pinched body part there. I discovered she liked her ass grabbed. She discovered the back of my ears got me going. Everything was wonderful. Then the fateful day occurred. It was a day that Mom was to have been in meetings all day at her school. Dad was supposed to be on the road for the next 3 days for a conference. We were all alone...the house to ourselves. I paid a friend Mike Pence to steal one of his older brother's pornos. Together, Hannah and I watched the VHS tape in awe. The different positions, the different holes. The different expressions on the face of the actors. Debating what might feel good and what actually looked like it hurt. When the tape ended, we felt more intrigued than ever to see where this might go. Hannah took me by the hand and led me back to her room.

The experience was awkward. Fumbling, bumbling, taking our time in self-conscious discovery of a whole new world of sensations. By the time we figured out how to place the condom on my erect shaft; we were both trembling. Not sure if this was a mountain we were both ready to climb. A taboo we could come back from.

"SPLASH."

Her pussies' resistance was minimal. Her arousal to the point that her tiny patch of virginal skin gave with little protest. The shock of pain in her eyes, immediately masked in a wash of pleasure. I tried to repeat the movements that we saw the men doing earlier. A slow, steady motion of my hips to impale her inner most core again and again. My eyes searching her face for the least bit of pain or distress. Hannah closed her eyes and rode the next thrust with an "O" of sensual indulgence on her lips. Her fingernails digging furrows in my back the only indication for me to continue. The tightness of her walls around my sheathed sword was the only thing that kept my dick from bursting its 18-year old contents into her guts. I started to pound deeper, harder. My desire to bring her more pleasure the only thing on my mind. As my own orgasm was building to my first crescendo. We were lost in the experience. Not knowing the ramifications of our actions upon the other. Not knowing the entrance to the gates of hell before us. Not knowing that our hedonistic, taboo romp of experimentation; would soon have a captive audience.

The crack to my skull sounded like a gunshot in the small confines of Hannah's room. I can't remember if it was after the first punch or the 4th that I began to hear my father's voice screaming in my ears. Hannah crying her protests in wave after wave of screams. Neither I nor my sister knew that Dad woke up early that morning with what he believed was a serious bout of angina. Not knowing that instead of going to the airport, he instead went to the hospital. Not knowing that his doctor had called our mother away from her meetings to tell her that Dad had had a series of small heart attacks. Not knowing that it was the sounds of Hannah's bed squeaking and the smell of sex in the air that brought them to see what we were doing. It was only by the restraints of my mother pulling him off and the feeling of a new bout of chest pains that Dad relented. I was told to cover my shame and go to my room until Aunt Trudy (our closest living relative) arrived to watch over us till they got back from the hospital again. As I trudged broken, scarred and ashamed to my room, neither of us knew what a terrible price came with climbing the mountain of fleshly pleasures. Neither knew that price would get so much worse.

Our parents didn't return until the next day. Aunt Trudy little aware of the reason behind her summons. But when they did return, the bowels of hell sprang forth from my father's lips. Never in all the time I had known the man had I heard him curse so much. Never before would it have occurred to me the soul crushing effect our little tryst would have on our mother. How the discovery would, for the first time; leave our Aunt absolutely mute of any words. Silent tears falling from her eyes. The initial sentence was harsh. Having to go to church and ask for penance, then to publicly admit it to the entirety of the church after Mass on Sunday. To renounce our love as the love of Satan. To this day, I'm not sure if it was my burgeoning pride, or perhaps it WAS a deep-seated love for my sister that I flat refused. Even in the face of public scorn and humiliation. Even in the irrational face of my father's anger and disappointment. I manned up and said "NO." His response was worse than any I could've ever imagined. He was intent on disowning me and banishing Hannah to a convent. It was only by the pleas of his wife and sister-in-law that quelled his fury. But their solution might as well have been banishment all-together. Hannah was immediately packed that night and shipped to Roanoke to live with Trudy. I was shipped off the next day to my Grandma Gail's house to live out the rest of the school year. The added caveat that if they paid for college, Hannah and I could not attend the same school...even in the same state! So it was that I graduated from Robert Graves High school 3rd in my class, on my way to Howard University in Washington, DC. Hannah would attend Spelman in Atlanta. And that was that.

I finally brought my rental car to a halt behind one of my siblings over-priced family mobiles. My heart and soul doing consecutive tumbles as I hefted the heavy-laden bag of Christmas goodies for my extended family. Stuffed with autographed sports jerseys, electronic games, the newest, chic fur covered boots all the young girls were wearing in Annapolis where I lived, and other assorted gifts for those that I hadn't seen in forever. Ringing the doorbell, I waited, like a condemned man to the firing squad.

The door opened to a short, little girl of about 9. Her one toothed smile beaming from ear to ear. "Uncle Dan!!" She rushed to grab onto my legs as much as her little arms could manage without dropping the long haired, black doll in her fist.

"Hey little bit! Been a long time. I got to come in though, it's freezing out there."

The interior of the house was just as I remembered it. Except this time, it was filled with a raucous din of merriment and festive conversation. In the dining area, my nieces Shelly (19) and Adrianna (18) sat conversing about the latest girly gossip. The little girl named Myra; who grasped my hand in a death grip led me to the living room, where Paul, Peter and Mike (Deborah's husband) were sitting at the court of my father and his giant screen TV, yelling at the players for the umpteenth time to "DO SOMETHING!" Along with their male children Peter Jr. (20), Brandon (Paul's son at 18), and Myra's slightly older brother Viktor (11), who was busying himself in front of the fireplace playing with the assortment of Army action figures he had been accruing over the years.

"Hey guys!" I commented in my sing song cadence. "Who's winning?!"

"DAAAAANNNN!!" They all shouted. "You'd better get your old man...he's about to lose $100 on this game! I told you Dallas was overrated!" Mike said.

I liked Mike. I remember seeing him for the first time at Grandma Gail's funeral. All resplendent in his dress blues, looking like a shiny new penny. What made me feel so much better was the way Deborah gushed over him. My older sister had had a rough go of it in college and high school from what I heard. Her plain Jane looks, fiery attitude, and "I'm the Boss" demeanor, apparently rubbed quite a few guys the wrong way. But Mike was able to see past all of her defenses and got her to fall madly in love with him. Now their children (albeit rather late in the game), sat in my parent's home playing just like Hannah and I did so many years ago.

"Hey Dad." I remarked as I touched his shoulder ever so gently.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah...get out the way boy. Your mother didn't birth a window!"

Typical Dad, at least now he talked to me. Better than what happened at Grandma's funeral.

Walking in the den, I dropped off my bag of presents and ventured into the kitchen. It was alive with activity as the women folk were abuzz putting the finishing touches on the feast to be had later. As usual, my Mom had the tunes going while she worked. The O'Jays belting out their greatest Christmas tunes and the ladies bopped right along.

"Hey ladies, I miss anything?"

Mom turned around and almost dropped her pan of stuffing. Rushing over she hugged me so tightly. "DANNY!!"

I missed Mom's hugs. For such a short woman, her hugs registered in the realms of the greatest heavyweights. As I had my spine compressed by mom, my eyes took in the rest of my female relatives as they gathered to welcome me. Peter's wife Jasmine was there. At his side ever since his freshman year at Notre Dame. Deborah, who I couldn't quite make out if she was bigger from another child or not; so, I kept it to myself. As well as Paul's newest conquest Lizette; a beautiful French woman he met at his training school that kept in contact (Paul and his kid's mother divorced about 4 years ago I later learned).