Christmases at home have always been fun and joyful, full of food, drink, lots of TV watching and good times with family. My parents decorated the home in Christmas lights and put the inflatable Santa on the lawn to please me, their baby girl, returning from her first semester in college. After my six hour drive home, I was happy to see my dad in the open garage deep frying a turkey in peanut oil. Beside him was my cousin, Kyle. I was glad to see him too.
Kyle is attending California Poly Tech in the next town over from my parents; thousands of miles from his home in New York. He really couldn't afford to fly across country to spend Christmas at home, so my mother insisted that her nephew come spend Christmas with us which was cool with me. Of all of my cousins, Kyle is my favorite. Being the eldest cousins out of eleven, we've always been as thick as thieves down for any kind of mischief; from catching tadpoles together in the creek behind grandpa's house to sneaking beer from coolers as teens at family reunions. We're both eighteen now, though I'm six months older. I haven't seen Kyle in a year and barely recognized him. He's certainly grown into his lanky frame, sporting defined biceps and a lithe but sturdy torso. His once clean cut haircut had been replaced by a shaggy mop of ash brown hair. The braces were off and his great smile was accented with dimples covered by his new facial scruff. He has the most gorgeous eyes, much more blue than mine. He and my dad waved at me as I pulled into the driveway. It was good to be home.
It was well past midnight, dark and quiet in the two story house, when I put on my slippers and padded down the stairs in my pink flannel pajamas to the quiet living room where a dark Christmas tree sat in the corner. I plugged in the tree's lights and gazed at the beautiful tree full of ornaments we've collected over the years. I knelt beside the wrapped presents and after rummaging around, found one my mother addressed.
'To: Stella, Love Mom.'
I shook it. By the weight and sound of the gift shifting inside the store given box, I could tell it was a piece of clothing, probably a sweater. I put it down and found another one for me, a smaller package; a little too big for earrings but a good size for a new phone, watch or some other electronic device. I placed it back under the tree. Then I did something I've been doing since the age of three. I laid on my back and slid my head and torso beneath the Christmas tree to gaze up into the red, yellow, green and blue lights that, now warmed up, were starting to blink. It's like gazing into my own little universe of lights and fresh smelling pine boughs. I drew my hand across my flannel shirt to pop open one of its four big buttons to massage my naked tit. It's a bad habit that I find very soothing. I gently pinched, pulled and twisted my pale nipple until it was puckered and hard as I became lost in my world of lights and comfort.
I sighed thinking about my first semester in college. Living in a dorm while finding a balance between partying and studying was challenging until my mediocre mid-term grades forced me to reevaluate my time management. Thank God I brought my grades up. And though I'm in shape, having been a tumbling gymnast for years, I haven't had sex since August, when my high school boyfriend, Alex and I parted ways to attend colleges thousands of miles apart. He knew as well as I that we wouldn't be faithful to each other, not on campuses with so many new, hot student bodies, so we parted as friends. Sure, with my dark honey hair, perky tits and bright smile, I fight off horny frat boys every Friday night and I thought I would've scored some dick in the dorm by now. But improving my good grades got in the way. Maybe I should call Alex. I wonder if he came home for Christmas.
"Hey, Turbo Twat."
I flinched at the male voice bringing me back to earth. I peeked down the length of my body to see Kyle kneeling on one knee, peeking beneath the lowest tree bough to meet me face to face to call me his childhood nickname for me.
"Hey Butt Munch," I replied with my mutual childhood name for him when our mothers were out of earshot.
Kyle had on red plaid flannel pajama bottoms and a vintage Black Flag t-shirt which showed off his bulging guns. He slid under the tree beside me, chest up, and our shoulders touched as he nuzzled into me betwixt the wrapped gifts. The lights glittered in his eyes.
I returned my gaze to the lights above my nose and said, "I used to lie under the tree and go into a trance for hours looking at the lights. My parents thought I might be autistic."
"I like the lights too. I'd turn them on when I'd sneak down late at night on Christmas Eve and peel open a flap of the biggest Christmas present to see what I got and then seal it back up. I just couldn't wait."
I asked, "What are you doing up?"
"Came down to sneak one of Uncle Rob's beer. So you waiting for Santa?"
"Yeah, he's got a package for me."
He slyly crooned, "I've got a package for you."
I flirted back. "Really? What'd you get me?"
"You have to wait for Christmas."
"It's one a.m. Christmas day, 'tard."
It was only after I saw him staring at my chest when I remembered my boob was exposed from a popped open button. My skin was a kaleidoscope of color. He tentatively reached over with a crooked finger and rubbed his knuckle over my nipple which began to harden under his brushing strokes. It felt so good. I didn't stop him.
He asked, "You really want your present now?"
"Yeah. Let's do our gift exchange now. I stuffed you a stocking but it's still in my bag."
"Maybe that's best. You can't open my present in front of your parents."
I gave him a curious look. He removed his lazy hand from my nubby hard nipple and said, "Come on."
We scooted out from beneath the tree and I turned off the tree's lights before we both began to creep upstairs. Though my bedroom is four doors down and around the corner from my parents' room, and my parents were well soused on whiskey sours, we were still as quiet as elves creeping up the squeaking stairs to keep from waking the family dogs, Murphy and Bella who had taken to sleeping in my parents' bedroom.
I whispered, "Meet me in my room."
Kyle and I separated as he walked to the guest room beside my parent's room and I went to mine. By the pale white light of pixie lights strung over my headboard, I dug Kyle's Christmas stocking from my suitcase. Kyle crept into my room with a wrapped box, shutting my door behind him as I plopped onto my bed near the headboard. He set my gift beside him as he sat on the edge of my bed and I handed him the big red felt stocking stuffed with goodies.
