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Charity Begins Next Door: Part 2
Can Two Broken people make something whole, again?
In 2 parts, Based on the post from Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.
Neighborhood Party
Cathy
and John were holding a Christmas Eve open-house next door; and
expecting half of the neighborhood over that evening. They were a high
standard in generosity, for the rest of us neighbors to try to emulate.
I made my appearance, around 8:30 ,
and stoically accepted the offered condolences which were definitely
putting me in the wrong state of mind. After only half-an-hour I knew I
had to get out of there, even if it did piss off Cathy.
John
seemed to catch my mood, and dragged me outdoors to enjoy a cigar in
semi-peace. With a heavily spiked eggnog in hand, and a more than decent
Rocky Patel Decade burning nicely, I was willing to stick it out a
little longer when he headed back indoors.
“I should skin you alive for that little stunt, you know.”
I
heard a voice coming from poolside, and headed that way to face the
music. Sandy was sitting there alone, a large, mostly empty glass of
wine at her side.
“I know. I was bad. But I’m done now.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” she snapped.
“I just wanted Erica to have a decent Christmas, and wanted to help you out a little in your effort to sell your house.”
She
cackled, and it wasn’t a pretty sound. “You too? You just barely met me
and you’re so damn eager to get me out of the neighborhood.”
Her
words surprised me. “Not at all. I’m just trying to fight back a bit
against the unfairness of the world. What are you doing out here alone,
anyway?”
“I
can’t stand the way they look at me. Like suicide is contagious or
something. They don’t know what to say; they all avoid me, or look at me
like I was a leper or something.”
“People can be assholes.”
She smiled. “I’ll drink to that.”
I
sat beside her and drank my 80 proof eggnog in silence. We watched a
small group come out and start talking while they lit up their cancer
sticks.
“I know you mean well, Alex. But you can stop now, Ok?” she said softly.
“One last thing.”
“Please. Enough already.”
“Steve called. Everything’s cleared up with the insurance. You’ll get your check next week.”
She looked at me like I’d grown a third eye, completely stunned. “Really?”
“Really.”
She
finished her wine, gulping it down, then sat back. “Shit. Six fucking
months they drag it out and then suddenly, like that,” she snapped her
fingers, “they’re willing to pay up?”
“Steve’s good.”
She
leaned forward and held her head in her hands. After a few seconds I
could see her body was shaking. She was crying, silently.
“I’m sorry it took so long. If I’d been a better neighbor, we might have taken care of this months ago.”
She sat up abruptly, and I could see the streak of the tears on her face. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. Just don’t, Ok?”
“Ok.”
I
sat awkwardly, while she wiped her eyes and turned away from me,
staring out at the backyard. I leaned over and took her empty glass.
“Can I get you a refill?”
“Yeah. I mean, yes, please. Thanks.”
“Be right back.”
It
took a few minutes to navigate the crowd around the bar, and to endure
the late arrivals expressing their sorrow over my “loss”. Like they know
anything about loss. Shit. I was happy to get back outside, away from
the doe-eyed suburban mommy’s pity and their awkward mumbling husbands.
I plopped down next to Sandy. “Jesus. Next time you can make the booze run.” I told her passing the wine glass over.
She gave me a twisted smile. “You volunteered, remember?”
“Don’t remind me.”
“That’s what you get for being a Good Samaritan.”
“That’s it for me. Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson.”
She chuckled. “Somehow I doubt that.”
My
cigar had gone out, and it would have been a shame to waste it. I
ventured into the smoker arena long enough for a light, and immediately
regretted it, catching the sidelong glances they gave each other,
knowing what they were thinking. I didn’t spend a moment there longer
then I had to, hustling back to my solitude and Sandy. The only kindred
soul at this soirée who might feel a tenth of the loss I that was
consuming me.
There
was one last thing I wanted to do, but I didn’t know how she’d take it.
I thought that maybe, just maybe, with one more glass of wine under her
belt, she might acquiesce.
“Sandy?”
“Hmm. I don’t know if I like the sound of that. Are you up to something again?”
“No. Maybe. Not really. I mean, well, can I show you something next door?”
She gave me an odd look, which lasted quite a long time. “Can I bring my wine?”
“Of course. It’ll only take a minute.”
She
stood, and followed me out the gate. We walked around the fence to my
driveway and into my backyard. As we crossed my patio she piped up.
“Just
because I’ve had a few drinks, and just because you did something nice
doesn’t mean you’re going to get anywhere with me, I hope you know.”
Her
words slammed into me like a bucket of cold water. I hadn’t even
thought about anything like that. I turned and looked at her. She didn’t
look bad. Not at all. She cleaned up nicely, and even if she was
ridiculously skinny, I could see she was an attractive woman. Funny that
I’d never even noticed. I stood there trying to think of how to reply.
“Jesus, Alex. I’m just teasing you.”
It took me a few seconds to reply. “That was the furthest thing from my mind.”
“Of course. Believe me. I understand.” Her sardonic reply was more surprising than the original tease.
Caught without a response, I entered the house and led her to the living room.
“What did you want to show me?”
I turned on the light in the living room, and moved out of the way.
“Holy crap!”
I gestured toward the piles of gifts. “They were for my girls. I don’t know what to do with them.”
“That’s all for your girls?” she asked, looking on in wonder.
“Yeah. I kind of over do it.”
“I’ll say.”
“I’d
like Erica to have them. She doesn’t have to know they’re from me. They
can all be from Santa if you’d like. If you don’t take them, I… I don’t
know what I’ll do with them.”
“It’s too much, Alex. It’s a nice gesture, really. But it’s too much.”
“Please. No strings. Do it for Erica.”
She stood silent for a while, before she turned to me. “Why? Why now?”
“I
don’t know. Look, they’re just sitting there. I’ll end up donating them
to some charity or something. I’ve got a ton of gifts, and nobody left
to give them too. You’ve got a sweet little girl who has one present
under the tree and could use a bit of joy in her life.”
She
wandered around the room, nudging the gifts with her foot, not
answering, taking the occasional sip from her glass. She eventually
wandered back and stood beside me.
She stood quietly for several seconds, apparently pondering a reply. “It’s not fair,” she finally muttered.
That
wasn’t what I’d expected. “No shit. Life’s about as unfair as I could
ever imagine,” I answered honestly. “Good people get hurt for no
apparent reason. Jack-offs seem to glide along easily without a care in
the world. Innocent little girls have their lives cut short
meaninglessly. Good-hearted neighbors have their lives crapped on as if
it was some big cosmic joke.” I could hear my own voice getting louder
and more frustrated. “Life’s a fucking kick in the ass, and every time
it looks like something nice might come out of it, some cosmic comedian
pulls the rug out from under you. What kind of God destroys a family for
no good reason? Huh? Answer me that!” I was almost shouting by the end
of my tirade.
“I…I think I need to go home now.” She turned and started walking away.
I chased after her, “Please, can you take just a few? Please. It’s killing me to see them here.”
She
stumbled a bit, then paused. Without turning she said, “Bring over what
you want around midnight.” Then she slipped out the back door.
I
took a few minutes to compose myself after she left. I’d made a
complete ass of myself. Oh well. About par for the course. I decided to
make another short appearance at Cathy’s to at least say my goodnights.
My nosy neighbor caught me the moment I made it in the door. “John told
me you were around, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“I ran into Sandy, and we broken people sort of hid out in your backyard.”
She looked at me quizzically. “I was kind of surprised she came over. She didn’t say a word about what we did this afternoon.”
“Lucky
you. I’ve still got the scars,” I teased. Then I told her a little
about our discussion, including the insurance situation and the deal
with the gifts.
“Thank
God. Maybe she can finally stop working 16 hours a day, and spend some
time with her daughter. That’ll be nice. I was wondering what you were
going to do with all those gifts. I was afraid you were going to make a
memorial out of them, leaving them there year after year, until the dust
was an inch thick over them.”
Her words stung a bit. “I’m not that bad.”
“No, you’re not. Although you had me worried there for a bit. It’s just a hard thing to take. I understand that.”
“I guess it’s not a problem now.”
She smiled. “I guess not. Erica’s a lucky little girl.”
"I don't know if I'd say that, but at least she might have a nice Christmas."
"I'm
glad you came over tonight. A lot of our friends were worried for you.
Your appearance was a nice Christmas gift for them as well."
"I
can't say I really care too much. I know it sounds harsh, but how they
feel isn't really high up there on my list of priorities at the moment."
"That's Ok. It's still nice that you came."
"I
appreciate your inviting me. And for being the nagging neighborly
meddlesome busybody you've been for the last couple of weeks."
She
laughed. "That's the nicest thing anybody's said to me in a while, and
in the nastiest way. I guess you are feeling a little better."
I sighed. "A little. Although I doubt Christmas will ever be the same for me again."
She moved in and gave me a hug. "It'll never be the same. But it may still, someday, be Ok."
I hugged her back, quietly. I doubted it.
Back
home, I dressed down to sweats and a t-shirt, torturing myself a little
by watching The Little Drummer Boy, Briana's favorite. Life was so
fucking unfair. My girls were gone. It was Christmas and I was alone.
I'd never, ever, spend another Christmas with Briana and Allora. Never.
An
hour later I was at Sandy's back door with three huge garbage bags full
of gifts. It had taken me two trips. I knocked softly and a few moments
later Sandy let me in. She'd gotten rid of her party clothes as well,
answering the door in a plain robe. She looked tired. I guessed that
she'd been waiting up for me.
"Erica?" I asked softly.
"Asleep," she confirmed, taking one of the bags from me.
Quietly
we headed to her front room and started spreading out the gifts. On
each one, I removed the existing tag and she put a new sticker 'from
Santa' on it. She asked me what was in each, but I couldn't remember all
of them. Still, I was able to fill her in on the majority. She must
have had some plan in mind, because she organized them according to my
descriptions of their probable contents, separating them in neat little
piles. After about 15 minutes I looked over and saw her shaking her
head.
"What?"
"It's too much."
"That's what my ex said every year. I never got a complaint from the girls."
She gave me a wry smile. "At least one of us is going to have a pretty spectacular Christmas."
"Isn't that how it should be?"
I saw her nod, and noticed that her eyes were glistening again. I decided to leave it alone.
Until
those moments, I really hadn't seen Sandy as a woman. I'd related to
her as a person in need. But between her dressing up at the party, her
comments on my patio, and the way she was dressed in just a robe, I'm
almost ashamed to say I was scoping her out.
She
was rail thin, with short dark brown hair, almost black. She wasn't
very large on top, but when she was moving around on her hands and
knees, arranging presents, I got a few glimpses inside the top of her
robe, and saw the swelling of very feminine breasts. Her legs were as
thin as the rest of her, but with decent calf definition. Some of her
movements were less than ladylike, and I saw myself peeking up the
bottom of her robe, looking at her pale inner thighs, or glancing at her
round rear giving form to her robe.
Her
face was cute. Small turned up nose, narrow mouth with bowed upper lip,
and natural eyebrows fuller than was popular, above big brown eyes.
Those eyes were extremely expressive, and somewhat mesmerizing.
I found myself looking at her too often, and she eventually caught me at it.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," I answered quickly. Trying to cover myself I explained. "You just look happier than I've seen you until now."
One corner of her mouth turned up. "I guess for once you're seeing me when I'm not completely pissed-off at you."
We
finished with the gifts and I carefully stood up and gingerly stepped
around the pretty wrapped up presents. I turned and held my hand out to
Sandy while she did her best to maneuver around them without stepping on
any. She almost made it before stumbling at the last minute, kicking a
pile over and falling toward me. I caught her and held her up, pulling
her backward with me until the wall halted my retreat.
She stared up at me, my arms still wrapped under hers, holding her closer than I intended. Her hair smelled like strawberries.
"I should be furious with you," she said, leaning into me.
"I know."
I pulled her upright, but she clung to me, pressing against me.
"We don't need anybody." She sounded angry again.
I shrugged, hard to do while holding a fragile woman in my arms. "I don't have anybody."
Her look softened. "I'm sorry."
"Don't
be. I'll be okay." I closed my eyes, and thought once more of my kids. I
could feel myself on the verge of losing it again.
Without
warning her lips were on mine, gentle at first. Then I felt her fingers
dig into my skin, and she was kissing me fiercely, her teeth pressed
hard against my lips. I pulled her tightly against my body, opening my
mouth to hers, returning her ardor.
It
was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. She was clutching at me,
kissing me, hugging me, hitting me, scratching me, while I stood there
holding her, absorbing it all. I waited for her to calm down, and when
she didn't I reached down and lifted her by the ass, holding her tight,
while her legs encircled me. She bit my lip hard, and I could taste
blood, while her claws sank into my shoulders.
I
could feel the anger and frustration in her, the desire to strike out
somehow at the unfairness of it all. I echoed those feelings, accepting
them, expanding them, and returning them in kind. Yes, I was angry too.
Furious. The taste of my own blood on my lips just served to fuel the
fire.
Like
everything else, having her vent her anger on me, while I was the only
one in the world trying to help her was patently unfair. I was hurting
too. I had lost so much more. So very much more. I was tired of being
treated like dirt.
Holding
her by the rear in one hand, I grasped her hair from behind, pulling
her hair back making her gasp. I lowered my mouth to her slender neck
and bit her, sucking on her flesh. Both of her hands went to my head,
entangling in my hair, and pulling my face down against her. Her hips
ground against me, while her bare feet beat a tattoo against my back.
Sandy
pulled my head back by the hair, and I loosened my grip on hers. She
stared into my eyes, hers flashing with pent up emotions.
"Damn you!" she gasped. She leaned in and pressed her lips against mine again, still fierce and unrelenting.
I
turned and pressed her against the wall, trapping her there with my
body. My hand lowered and slid into her robe, meeting nothing but bare
flesh. I grabbed her breast and squeezed, causing her to moan into my
mouth. Her hands weren't idle and she was pushing the top of my sweats
down, using her feet to push them down in the back. She squeezed a hand
between us, her other wrapped around my shoulders, and I felt her
fingers wrap around my hardness. It was hard to believe how I was
responding to her and her tantrum, but there was no doubt.
I
took over, pushing my sweats down, letting them slide down to my
ankles, drawing my boxers with them. I was naked from the waist down and
exposed. Our lips had never separated, and she sucked hungrily on my
tongue, while I tore open her robe, roughly. Like me, she was naked
underneath, except for a pair of loose shorts. She had my turgid rod in
her hand, and aimed it at her moist opening.
She groaned. Her hand now free, she grabbed me by the hair and tugged back, drawing her lips away. "You bastard," she gasped.
"Bitch,"
I growled. I pulled my hips back and thrust into her hard, pushing her
into the wall, eliciting another gasp. I felt my own anger welling up
inside of me. I knew I wasn't really angry at her, but she was the
unintended victim of my fury.
"That's right, use me," she whispered harshly. "Go ahead, nail me you prick, like everyone else has."
I
took her ass cheeks in my hands and pulled her away from the wall,
lifting her up off me, before releasing her, letting her weight impale.
One at a time, I reached my arms under her legs, her thighs resting on
my forearms, my hands gripping her ass cheeks tightly. I tugged her
shorts down in back, exposing her soft ass-cheeks, and grabbed her
cheeks tightly digging my fingers in. She linked her fingers behind my
neck, and leaned backward, exposing her upper body to my gaze. Her small
breasts had the most perfect little nipples, hardened for me. I fucked
her hard and fast, while my strength and fury held out.
As
my arms grew tired I walked to the living room. She released each of
her arms, long enough to let her robe fall, leaving her almost naked. I
lowered her, setting her butt down on the arm of the couch. She let go
of me, leaning backward, lowering her back to the couch. Her hips were
now positioned well above her body, and I pulled her toward me hard, so
her lower back was on the couch arm. I yanked her shorts off and threw
them to the side, staring down at her sexy naked body. I opened her legs
wide, slid into her warmth, while she moaned so damn sexily. Holding
her legs in my hands and lifting them high and wide, she was effectively
immobilized by her own weight resting on her shoulders. I was free to
do as I please.
She
lay there, staring up at me, her eyes burning. I didn't want to look
into those condemning orbs. I roughly turned her over, her smooth soft
ass raised up by the arm of the couch. I spread her legs, making her
pay. I held her hips tightly and vented my feelings.
Looking between us, I was hypnotized by the sight. The incredible feeling was overcoming my ire, and I just enjoyed her.
I
couldn't take much more. I grabbed her hips and leaned over her. I
looked down and saw she'd twisted her torso to look back at me.
"Do it." She ordered.
I
slammed, unable to resist the urge any longer. Gasping, I came, the
release painful in its urgency, exploding deep, over and over again. Her
legs were flailing, and as I slowed she relaxed, bent over the arm like
a rag doll, lifeless.
She
squealed when I lifted her up, spinning her around to sit on the arm. I
could see she had tears in her eyes, and wet streaks running down her
cheeks. I slid my arms around her, holding her close, squeezing her
frail body. Her arms slid around my torso and she pressed her face
against my chest.
I
held her while I felt her body shaking. I felt horrible, sickened at
what I'd done. I'd exploited her viciously, using her, venting my
aggravation and unhappiness on the one person I knew who'd already
suffered enough on her own. I could feel my own eyes welling up.
We
held each other, desperately, clutching to anything that might let us
ride out this horrible time in our lives. My hands relaxed as did the
tightness that had been enveloping my body. I caressed her back, feeling
her ribs under the soft skin. I pressed my lips to her hair, kissing
her softly. She was returning my kisses, pressing her lips to my chest
and shoulders, rubbing her hands over the scratches she'd given me
earlier.
I realized I was nudging her, eager to continue. I held her, while she sobbed against me.
I massaged her back, nuzzling her hair, kissing her temples. "I'm sorry," I whispered.
"Don't," she sobbed. "Don't you dare apologize! Not now. Not ever."
I pushed her head back, and lowered my lips to hers, kissing her softly. "I won't."
"Good."
She looked up and touched my lip, drawing back a finger red with my blood. "Oh God! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that."
"No apologies. Remember?"
She answered by reaching up and kissing my lip. When she drew back I could see a little red on hers.
I
kissed her back, feeling her return it this time, still moving. Her
legs spread wider. When I looked back into her eyes they were
smoldering.
"Take me to bed," she whispered.
"Are you sure?"
"No. Do it anyway."
I
stood carefully, my pretty little sister-in-misery still impaled on my
rod. She wrapped her legs around me tightly and clung to me with both
arms. I held her by her sweet little ass and slowly climbed the stairs.
With each step I lifted and lowered her, screwing her along the way.
Nearing the top step she surprised me by giggling.
"What?"
"You're stronger than you look," she said, softening the words with careful little kisses bestowed across my chest.
"You're light as a feather. I need to feed you."
She smiled wickedly. "A protein oral injection?"
I almost dropped her, and she giggled, "What?"
"You, young lady, have a dirty mind."
I
saw a storm flitter across her face, but she shook it off and smiled.
"It's been a long time, Alex. I'm not so good at flirting and teasing."
"Ditto, beautiful. Bear with me."
She made a little rolling movement of her hips, ending with my cock completely sheathed within her moistness.
She giggled. "Damn! I can't believe you can just hold me like this."
I pulled her up and down on my cock a few times, drawing a quiet gasp out of her. "I could hold you like this forever."
I had cleared the last step and was walking her into her bedroom.
Once again a flurry of emotions danced across her face, ending with a smile. "But then how would you ever feed me?"
I reached back and closed the door behind us.
Mischievously,
I pulled her high in the air, making her squeal. She really was as
light as a rag doll. I doubted she weighed a hundred pounds. I held her
in my arms like a baby, rocking her. A very sexy baby.
I
had one arm under her legs, and the other under her back, and she
turned in my arms, her lips closing around my nipple. I lifted her
shoulder high, then removed the arm under her back, causing her to fall
downward. Not far, since I caught her by the hips, hanging upside down.
She gasped, her legs kicking out, her arms circling my waist. I wrapped
an arm around her, pulling her legs down onto my shoulders, pressing her
warm pinkness against my face.
Her
face was down around my waist. She squeezed her legs tightly around my
head, her thighs pressing hard against my ears. "You're crazy!" she
gasped.
"See. I can hold you and still feed you," I teased, then licked her, my tongue probing her.
She giggled, and I felt her warm lips engulf. I grabbed her near the hips, and lowered her a bit.
For
all my bravado, it was amazingly difficult, and I could feel my arms
trembling from the effort. I held her still, her mouth filled with me,
and walked the few remaining steps to the bed.
She
was getting more active, sucking and moving her head back and forth. It
felt incredible. I almost didn't want to put her down. But I knew if I
didn't there was a chance I'd drop her soon. With one last herculean
effort I lifted her up and leaned over depositing her in a squirming
ball of flesh on her mattress.
She
spent no time at all sitting up and pulled me onto the bed. I reached
out for her but she pulled away. "Lay down. My turn now."
I
stretched out in the middle of her bed, and watched her crawl to my
waist, move between my legs and look up at me before lowering her mouth
to my pulsating rod. She licked me, examining me.
It felt so damned incredible I moaned loudly.
She pulled up and pressed her fingers against her lips. "Shush. We don't want to wake anybody."
I mimed zipping my lips closed, barely containing another groan when she took me in her mouth again.
She
sucked me as if she were on a mission. Her hands worked me just below
where her mouth took over. I reached down and brushed her bangs aside so
I could watch her. That was enough encouragement for her to pick up the
pace, gasping when she pressed too hard.
"Sandy," I started to warn her.
She
held out her palm to me, sucking with complete abandon. I didn't say
another word. I let her draw my juices up and out, and moaned softly
when I finally achieved my much needed release, erupting between her
lips.
She
was breathing hard through her nose, holding me in her mouth, taking
all I had to offer and gamely swallowing it down. She sucked softly when
I was done shooting, and I could feel the pulses of tightness while she
swallowed repeatedly. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be
concentrating hard on completing her mission.
When
my hardness started to whither, she took me in her hand and stroked me,
her mouth tenderly sucking me, carefully tugging on me, her tongue
massaging. I relaxed on the bed and enjoyed her attention, concentrating
on the amazing feeling around my waist. The idea of getting hard for
her and continuing our play was combining with her devoted attention,
and I finally responded after a few minutes, hardening in her mouth.
That
seemed to be a signal to her and she sat up, sucking me more
aggressively, restoring the steel to my phallus, until it could stand on
its own, full and ready.
Sandy
moved up my body, straddled my waist and slid back home. She slowly
worked her way up and down. Then she settled and stretched. It was
beautiful to see, her slender body straining upward, her arms reaching
to the sky, her head leaning back, the curve of her rib cage accentuated
by the hollow of her belly, her perfect little breasts standing out
brave and eager, the pretty pink tips showing hard little caps.
After
a few moments in that pose she relaxed with a sigh, settling back down
and leaning forward until her hands were braced against my chest.
"Thanks for the meal," she said with a teasing smile.
"You are amazing," I confessed.
She gave me a sad little smile. "It's nice to hear someone say that. It's been a long, long time."
I reached out for her and she slid down to my chest, while I wrapped her in my arms. "That's a shame. You are so beautiful."
"You don't have to say that," she said into my shoulder.
"But you are." I held her, pushing with my hips, slowly screwing her while I held her.
"I'm not. I know it. It's okay."
I reached down and lifted her face so I could lean forward and kiss her.
It
was a long tender kiss, and afterwards I just held her. I kept my hips
moving gently, not wanting to lose the contact with her, staying hard
and filling her.
"Just hold me a bit, okay?" She softly petitioned.
"As long as you'll let me." I assured her, and I engulfed her in my arms, clutching her as if I'd never let her go.
I
could feel her trembling, her arms holding me tightly. Her back was
rising and lowering spasmodically, and I heard the tiny gasp of her
crying against me.
I
didn't try to quiet her or comfort her. I just held her, raining kisses
down onto the top of her head, holding her tightly, and easing my cock
back and forth into her.
We
spent several long minutes like that, until she slowly relaxed and her
death grip on me eased. I loosened my own grip, allowing my hands free
rein in their exploration of her body, stroking her, fondling her,
holding her tight little butt in my hands and pushing up into her. She
slowly responded, pushing back against my strokes, her tits pressing
into my chest.
I
pulled her tightly to my body, rose up on one arm and rolled over,
lifting her body off the bed, and settling it down below me. On top of
her now, I let go, raising my torso the length of my arms and thrusting
into her with long slow strokes.
She
looked so small and vulnerable underneath me. I leaned down and kissed
her, and she grabbed my head and kissed me back eagerly. She finally let
me go and I resumed my position, laying fully upon her body, happy to
be right where I was. I gazed down at her, wondering how I'd failed to
notice how pretty she was right from the start.
"Stop staring."
"I can't help it. You are so beautiful. I want to memorize everything about you."
"I'm not too skinny?" she asked.
"Nothing a few more meals can't fix," I teased.
I
embraced her in silence for a bit, then rose up to enjoy her more
thoroughly, opening her legs up for better access. She pulled her legs
back, holding her own ankles nearly parallel with her head.
I spread my legs and straightened them, raising my hips high before plunging down. She gasped and I smiled.
For
the first time that night I felt her responding deeply, shivering. She
released her feet and clutched her legs behind her knees, her shins
bracketing her pretty face.
I
rose up to my knees, leaning over and pushing down on the back of her
legs, as fast as I could, feeling the need to release, growing in me.
"Harder," she gasped, "harder."
I
slowed down just a bit. She was gasping continuously, her toes curling
up and her feet stretching out. I watched in delight as her head tilted
back and her eyes rolled back into her head, while she came, her entire
body quivering, her chest blushing bright red.
Just
as she appeared to be settling back down, gasping hard, I grabbed her
thighs, feeling my own need peaking. I couldn't hold back any longer and
buried myself deep, shooting hard, my hips jerking forward of their own
accord.
Sandy cried out, releasing her legs which kicked out and trembled while she came with me.
I
stretched out over her, while her legs slowly wrapped around me. Her
eyes were large, staring at me in ego-soothing wonder. I kissed her
softly.
"You are amazing," I told her.
She blushed. "I; I never; not like that," she murmured.
I
was exhausted, from head to toe, and my legs and arms were trembling
from my exertion. The front of my hips were sore, and my phallus felt
like it had been run through a wringer. I rolled off of her, lying on my
back, breathing hard. She rolled over and leaned her upper body into
mine. I reached around her, holding her close.
There
was so much I wanted to say, but I didn't know how, or where to start.
Instead I just kissed the top of her head while she held me. I reached
across with my opposite hand and stroked her side before allowing my
hand to settle over her breast, holding it gently, my fingers idly
toying with her nipple. She moved closer, lifting her leg over mine,
laying half on top of me. It allowed my arm holding her to wander,
touching her, feeling her. I could feel the wetness of her crotch
pressing into my hip, warm and wet.
I
closed my eyes, my arm stretched across her back, my hand holding the
warm flesh of her ass cheek. Her breathing was slow and steady, her arm
thrown across my chest. I pressed my lips against her hair one last
time, leaned back and relished holding this sweet, sexy, troubled woman.
I
woke abruptly, confused. I was alone in a strange bed, the covers
pulled up to my chin. Daylight was streaming in the window, and I sat
up, disoriented. It took a few seconds for me to recall the previous
evening, and I looked around for Sandy. I started to get out of bed, and
realized I was naked, my clothes were still somewhere downstairs. I
pulled the covers over my waist, and looked around for something to
cover up with, before spotting my clothing from the night before folded
on a chair nearby.
I
pulled on my shorts and ducked into the bathroom for a much needed
leak. I splashed some water on my face and borrowed her brush to run it
through my wild hair. I took a swig of mouthwash and did my best to look
partially human before heading back to the bedroom. I was pulling on my
sweats when Sandy appeared with a cup of coffee. It smelled delicious.
She
smiled and passed it to me. She was dressed in pajamas, and had clearly
showered and cleaned up. Her hair was still moist. "Hurry up. There's a
little girl downstairs almost bursting with the need to open her
presents."
I
took a sip of the coffee, hot and strong, then passed it back to her
for a second while I pulled on my shirt. I straightened it out and
retrieved my coffee for another sip.
She was watching me intently, a sad little smile on her face.
I started to speak but she cut me off.
"No.
Let's not talk about it right now. It was something we both needed, but
it doesn't have to mean anything. It just happened. I don't regret it.
Right now we need to go downstairs."
I
moved to her and grabbed her chin. I saw she was nervous and wondered
if she'd practiced that little speech. I leaned over and kissed her
softly, continuing until she responded.
"I just want to say you are amazing. Really."
"So you keep saying," she teased.
"What is Erica going to think?"
"I
told her you had a sleepover. She probably has a good idea what that
means, kids are so precocious these days, but she seemed alright with
it."
"Shit. I feel like a jerk, spoiling her Christmas with you."
She
hit me, her little fist landing solidly on my chest, almost making me
spill my coffee. "Shut up. It's because of you that she's having a
Christmas worth mentioning at all."
She
turned and headed downstairs, and I had to pull my eyes away from her
cute little butt, before I had a physical response that would be almost
too much to bear. I realized she was walking tentatively, and wondered
if she was as sore as I was this morning. Probably. Maybe more so.
We
headed straight for the living room, and sat back on the couch about a
foot apart while Erica waited for us, standing beside the presents
almost shaking. She watched her mother anxiously, glancing my way long
enough for a quick smile. When her mother nodded she dove into the
presents grabbing the closest and tearing it open.
She
oohed and aahed over each new gift, while the pile of unwrapped ones
grew smaller and an ever growing field of toys gradually overtook the
room.
She
shrieked and jumped up and down when she opened the iPod touch, pulling
off the $50 iTunes gift certificate. She'd been pretty quiet up until
then but she climbed over to her mother and gave her a big hug.
"He
knew, Momma, he knew!" she shrieked in joy, stopping her present
opening to crack open the iPod box and pull it out, looking it over,
holding it reverently in her hands.
I
felt a warm hand settle onto mine, giving a soft squeeze. I turned my
wrist and held her hand in mine, interlocking our fingers. I looked over
to Sandy, and saw the tears in her eyes. With a sniffle she carefully
brushed them away.
As
usual, the new clothing got short shrift, being tossed into a growing
pile, but she did look each one over, holding it up against her body,
asking her mother's opinion on several before moving on.
I listened to Sandy laugh at her daughter's antics, and thought it was the most beautiful sound I had heard in ages.
Erica
was about halfway through the gifts. I watched her reach for a big box,
and I gave her mother's hand a squeeze. "Maybe that one should be
last," I whispered.
"Erica, darling, that one's from Mr. Reed. Why don't you open it last?"
Erica
looked up, her surprise matching my own. She moved it to the side and
continued her quest to eliminate the pile of wrapped presents.
The
small purse with five $10 bills was another big hit, as were the
rollerblades, each calling for another shriek and a visit to her
mother's lap, bringing forth more giggles and laughter from the woman
beside me. Sandy was smiling hugely, taking the wrapping paper from her
daughter and filling a garbage bag with it as we went.
I
was torn. Each gift I'd so carefully picked out for my girls was
disappearing. I couldn't help but think about how I should be spending
my Christmas, if I hadn't received such a kick in the teeth from fate. A
couple of times I felt myself tearing up, my breath catching in my
chest. Sandy moved closer, her leg pressed against mine, holding my hand
in both of hers, tightly, in her lap.
Then
I would see the joy on young Erica's face, and I'd wipe the tears away,
taking a deep breath, knowing that it was what my daughter's would have
wanted. Their hearts had been as big as the world.
I felt Sandy's head lean into my shoulder, and I gave her hand another squeeze.
Finally
the presents ran out. There were two gifts remaining. The one that had
been there on that first day, which seemed so long ago but had only been
three days earlier, and the big one.
She
looked over at us, then starting peeling away the paper off of her
mother's present. There was a book sized jewelry box inside, and she
opened it shrieking. "Grandma's necklace?" she asked.
"You always liked it," Sandy said.
Erica
came over and sat between her mother's legs, lifting her hair up out of
the way so her mother could attach the chain behind her neck. I could
now see it was an old-fashioned locket and Erica was clutching at it
like she'd never let it go. Sandy finally got the chain latched, and
gave her a little shove.
Erica
stood up and ran to the mirror, looking at herself. She came and stood
in front of us, striking several poses. It was so damned cute. I
couldn't help but laugh.
That got Sandy's attention, and she giggled as well, cuddling up next to me and pulling my arm around her shoulders.
We watched Erica go to the last big box, glancing back at us as if waiting for permission.
"Go on," I teased, "you can't stop now!"
She
grabbed the edge of the wrapping paper, and tore into it. She ripped
large chunks of paper off, tossing them toward her mother, before
suddenly coming to a complete stop. She screamed out, stood up and
danced in place. I'd never seen anybody so excited. She bent over and
tore the paper away roughly exposing the PS3 and the piles of games
taped to the top.
"Mom!
Mom! It's a PS3!" she cried out, bending over and lifting the box,
twirling around with it, before stumbling and dropping it to the floor.
Sandy laughed, "Careful! You don't want to break it before you get a chance to use it."
Erica
scrambled across the coffee table between us and launched herself into
my lap. She gave me a huge hug, squeezing me so hard I thought she might
break something.
I felt her breath against my ear. "Thank you, Santa." I felt her soft lips press against my cheek, bringing a tear to my eye.
I
hugged her to me. "I hope you enjoy your present." I could feel the
tears welling up, threatening to overflow, and I clung to her for a few
seconds. "Go on now, open it up."
She
jumped up and started tearing at the box, peeling off the games,
instantly separating them into piles. So much like her mother. I felt
Sandy shifting on the couch next to me, and I turned toward her, just as
her arms wrapped around me. She kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you."
I hugged her. "I should be thanking you. I never thought I could enjoy Christmas again."
She smiled. "That would be horrible," she said softly, "if Santa couldn't enjoy Christmas."
I
thought we were finally done, but Erica went behind the tree and
returned with two gifts wrapped in newspaper comics. She gave her mother
one, and gave me the other.
Sandy
and I looked at each other, then she opened her gift. Inside was a
hand-made ornament, a picture of their little family, Sandy, Erica, and
the missing father, smiling as if everything was perfect in the world.
The picture was framed in popsicle sticks, with pipe-cleaners glued to
it. It was too cute for words.
"If we hang it on the tree, then Daddy can share Christmas with us from heaven," Erica explained.
I saw Sandy choke up, then give her daughter a big hug. "It's beautiful."
"Hang it up, mom!" Erica insisted.
Sandy got up and placed it in the middle of the tree, carefully arranging it so it faced the room. "I love it Erica, thank you."
Erica was standing in front of me, hopping from foot to foot. "Your turn," she announced.
I
opened the paper carefully, and saw a hand drawn picture, colored in
crayons on some light colored cardboard. It took me a second to realize
what it was. "It's us painting the door, isn't it?"
"Yep. And that's momma, trying to look angry." She pointed to a stick figure at the side.
It
must have taken her a while. The picture was pretty big, more than a
foot tall, and she'd carefully drawn the door in great detail, coloring
it blue, and she had little Christmas decorations all around it. She was
kneeling down painting the bottom, and I had this ridiculously long
body, bent over at the waist, painting the door just above her head.
I pointed to the figure to the side. "If she's angry, how come she's smiling?" I asked.
Erica
laughed. "She's only trying to be angry. She's really happy. She just
isn't allowed to show it. She has to act sad because Daddy's gone."
I
held the picture up, then made a show of hugging it. "It's my very
favorite Christmas present. I'm going to frame it and put it on my
desk."
Erica climbed up on the couch and hugged me. "Will you hook up my PS3?"
"Of course I will," I told her, returning her hug.
"And
I'll start breakfast," Sandy announced. I looked up, and she was wiping
tears from her face again. What a roller-coaster of emotions.
It
only took a few minutes, and we had the game system hooked up and Erica
was debating which game to start with. She barely got it loaded before
we were called over for breakfast.
"Mo-om!" Erica pouted.
"It's not going anywhere. You can play after breakfast."
It
was surrealistic, sitting there at the table, with eggs, toast and
sausage on my plate, and a glass of orange juice at the ready. Erica had
cereal in her bowl and a tall glass of milk. Like a normal family.
I
was still stunned by how talkative Erica had become, as she told us all
about her gifts. "Can Taylor come over later and play?" she asked.
"We'll see," Sandy told her. "It's Christmas, her parents may want her to stay at home today."
"What are your favorite gifts?" I asked.
She
seemed to think about it, and I watched her hand move up to the locket
around her neck. It was cute watching her face scrunch up as she really
thought it over.
"I
think it was your sleepover," she finally announced, catching me off
guard and almost making me spit my orange juice across the table.
Sandy was just as surprised, "Really? Better than the PS3?" she asked.
Erica nodded vehemently. She looked at me, "Momma's happy."
I looked over at Sandy, and saw her blushing furiously.
I reached over and tousled Erica's hair. "I'm happy too. Happier than I thought I could be."
Erica nodded solemnly. "I know. Your girls went to heaven too. These were their presents, right?"
I nodded. "I knew they'd want you to have them."
She took a bite of her cereal. "Allora was nice. We made a poster for her in class. I drew an angel."
Hearing
her name was tough. Suddenly everything felt wrong. I should be sitting
at a table with her and Briana, listening to them chatter. Watch them
fight over playing with each other's gifts. No chance of that now. The
room was becoming blurry, tears for my lost girls filling my eyes.
"Don't
be sad," Erica said, reaching out and touching my arm. "They're in
heaven now, and they get to watch us. They wouldn't want you to be sad."
I forced myself to smile. "I bet the poster was beautiful. I wish I could see it."
"Mrs. Viola would probably let me take it home for you," she said.
"I'd like that."
Erica was eating her cereal as fast as she could, and she pushed the empty bowl away. "Can I play now?"
Sandy gave her the go ahead, and she made a beeline toward the TV.
Sandy and I looked at each other. "She's become quite the chatterbox," I mentioned.
"Thank God," Sandy said, standing up and taking up the plates. "Let's hope it sticks."
I cleared my own stuff and joined her at the sink. "I should go home soon."
"I understand," she said softly.
"I have to stop by the in-laws. I promised. But I'd like to come by later if you don't mind. Maybe we can have dinner together."
She seemed a little distant. "You don't have to. You've done enough already."
I put my arms around her, and felt her stiffen. "Don't tell Erica, but her drawing was only my second favorite Christmas gift."
I felt her relax a bit, and she turned toward me, allowing me to hug her properly. I leaned down and kissed her softly.
She giggled. "Oh, really?"
"Really. The sleepover was my favorite."
"That
gift will have to hold you over for a while. Another sleepover and I
don't think I'd ever be able to walk again. You beast." Her smile took
any sting out of the words.
"No kidding. I'd have to learn to talk with only one lip."
Her eyes opened wide, and she raised her hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
I kissed her again. "No apologies, remember."
She smiled. "Alright. Dinner would be nice, but I didn't have anything special planned."
"Let me take care of the dinner."
She grinned salaciously. "That's right. You did promise to feed me."
That made me blush.
"As a matter of fact, if you're not in a huge hurry, maybe you could feed me again, before you have to leave."
I looked over at Erica.
"She'll
be fine. You won't be able to tear her away from those games for
hours." She took me by the hand, and drew me over to the stairs.
Half-an-hour
later, I'd fed her, but not before proving to us both that we fit each
other perfectly. It was quiet, and gentle, and just what I needed to
make it clear that the previous night wasn't a one-time accidental
thing.
It's
been a year since that first Christmas. Things weren't always easy
between us, we still had sharp edges and wounds that weren't quick to
heal, but we stuck to it.
Any
talk of holding Erica back in school ended quickly. She's an A student,
smart as a whip, and even talking about playing volleyball. Her quiet
spell snapped that Christmas.
Within
six months I'd moved in with Sandy and Erica, and we'd become
landlords, renting out my two houses, and using our new found wealth to
buy a few foreclosures, renovate them and rent them out as well. Sandy
quit her jobs and was relishing her new real-estate magnate career. Even
if the rentals can be a headache sometimes.
By
September we were talking about marriage, and decided to forgo any big
ceremony and flew off to Vegas for a mini-vacation and a quick wedding.
We even conned Cathy and John to join us for a couple of days. Cathy was
our matron of honor. Steve and Darla surprised us by showing up as
well. He insisted that if I was going to put on the noose again
willingly, he'd be my best man. He always was.
We're
wrapping Erica's gifts now. I guess overdoing it at Christmas is one
habit I'll never get over. Every once in a while I can't help but reach
over and rub Sandy's belly. Erica's excited by the idea of having a new
baby brother by summer.
Me?
I'm excited by our new Christmas tradition. I get to re-enact our first
Christmas sleepover. Sandy's even wearing that silly, ratty old robe.
She's promised never to get rid of it.
Christmas
will always be bitter sweet to me, and sometimes I still get the blues
and need some time to myself to think about those little girls that had
their lives cut short so unfairly. I miss them terribly, and think about
them every day.
Christmas will never be the same. But I'm not complaining.
Based on the post from Tx Tall Tales for Literotica.
View all episodes
By Dawkins BlogCan Two Broken people make something whole, again?
In 2 parts, Based on the post from Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected.
Neighborhood Party
Cathy
and John were holding a Christmas Eve open-house next door; and
expecting half of the neighborhood over that evening. They were a high
standard in generosity, for the rest of us neighbors to try to emulate.
I made my appearance, around 8:30 ,
and stoically accepted the offered condolences which were definitely
putting me in the wrong state of mind. After only half-an-hour I knew I
had to get out of there, even if it did piss off Cathy.
John
seemed to catch my mood, and dragged me outdoors to enjoy a cigar in
semi-peace. With a heavily spiked eggnog in hand, and a more than decent
Rocky Patel Decade burning nicely, I was willing to stick it out a
little longer when he headed back indoors.
“I should skin you alive for that little stunt, you know.”
I
heard a voice coming from poolside, and headed that way to face the
music. Sandy was sitting there alone, a large, mostly empty glass of
wine at her side.
“I know. I was bad. But I’m done now.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” she snapped.
“I just wanted Erica to have a decent Christmas, and wanted to help you out a little in your effort to sell your house.”
She
cackled, and it wasn’t a pretty sound. “You too? You just barely met me
and you’re so damn eager to get me out of the neighborhood.”
Her
words surprised me. “Not at all. I’m just trying to fight back a bit
against the unfairness of the world. What are you doing out here alone,
anyway?”
“I
can’t stand the way they look at me. Like suicide is contagious or
something. They don’t know what to say; they all avoid me, or look at me
like I was a leper or something.”
“People can be assholes.”
She smiled. “I’ll drink to that.”
I
sat beside her and drank my 80 proof eggnog in silence. We watched a
small group come out and start talking while they lit up their cancer
sticks.
“I know you mean well, Alex. But you can stop now, Ok?” she said softly.
“One last thing.”
“Please. Enough already.”
“Steve called. Everything’s cleared up with the insurance. You’ll get your check next week.”
She looked at me like I’d grown a third eye, completely stunned. “Really?”
“Really.”
She
finished her wine, gulping it down, then sat back. “Shit. Six fucking
months they drag it out and then suddenly, like that,” she snapped her
fingers, “they’re willing to pay up?”
“Steve’s good.”
She
leaned forward and held her head in her hands. After a few seconds I
could see her body was shaking. She was crying, silently.
“I’m sorry it took so long. If I’d been a better neighbor, we might have taken care of this months ago.”
She sat up abruptly, and I could see the streak of the tears on her face. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. Just don’t, Ok?”
“Ok.”
I
sat awkwardly, while she wiped her eyes and turned away from me,
staring out at the backyard. I leaned over and took her empty glass.
“Can I get you a refill?”
“Yeah. I mean, yes, please. Thanks.”
“Be right back.”
It
took a few minutes to navigate the crowd around the bar, and to endure
the late arrivals expressing their sorrow over my “loss”. Like they know
anything about loss. Shit. I was happy to get back outside, away from
the doe-eyed suburban mommy’s pity and their awkward mumbling husbands.
I plopped down next to Sandy. “Jesus. Next time you can make the booze run.” I told her passing the wine glass over.
She gave me a twisted smile. “You volunteered, remember?”
“Don’t remind me.”
“That’s what you get for being a Good Samaritan.”
“That’s it for me. Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson.”
She chuckled. “Somehow I doubt that.”
My
cigar had gone out, and it would have been a shame to waste it. I
ventured into the smoker arena long enough for a light, and immediately
regretted it, catching the sidelong glances they gave each other,
knowing what they were thinking. I didn’t spend a moment there longer
then I had to, hustling back to my solitude and Sandy. The only kindred
soul at this soirée who might feel a tenth of the loss I that was
consuming me.
There
was one last thing I wanted to do, but I didn’t know how she’d take it.
I thought that maybe, just maybe, with one more glass of wine under her
belt, she might acquiesce.
“Sandy?”
“Hmm. I don’t know if I like the sound of that. Are you up to something again?”
“No. Maybe. Not really. I mean, well, can I show you something next door?”
She gave me an odd look, which lasted quite a long time. “Can I bring my wine?”
“Of course. It’ll only take a minute.”
She
stood, and followed me out the gate. We walked around the fence to my
driveway and into my backyard. As we crossed my patio she piped up.
“Just
because I’ve had a few drinks, and just because you did something nice
doesn’t mean you’re going to get anywhere with me, I hope you know.”
Her
words slammed into me like a bucket of cold water. I hadn’t even
thought about anything like that. I turned and looked at her. She didn’t
look bad. Not at all. She cleaned up nicely, and even if she was
ridiculously skinny, I could see she was an attractive woman. Funny that
I’d never even noticed. I stood there trying to think of how to reply.
“Jesus, Alex. I’m just teasing you.”
It took me a few seconds to reply. “That was the furthest thing from my mind.”
“Of course. Believe me. I understand.” Her sardonic reply was more surprising than the original tease.
Caught without a response, I entered the house and led her to the living room.
“What did you want to show me?”
I turned on the light in the living room, and moved out of the way.
“Holy crap!”
I gestured toward the piles of gifts. “They were for my girls. I don’t know what to do with them.”
“That’s all for your girls?” she asked, looking on in wonder.
“Yeah. I kind of over do it.”
“I’ll say.”
“I’d
like Erica to have them. She doesn’t have to know they’re from me. They
can all be from Santa if you’d like. If you don’t take them, I… I don’t
know what I’ll do with them.”
“It’s too much, Alex. It’s a nice gesture, really. But it’s too much.”
“Please. No strings. Do it for Erica.”
She stood silent for a while, before she turned to me. “Why? Why now?”
“I
don’t know. Look, they’re just sitting there. I’ll end up donating them
to some charity or something. I’ve got a ton of gifts, and nobody left
to give them too. You’ve got a sweet little girl who has one present
under the tree and could use a bit of joy in her life.”
She
wandered around the room, nudging the gifts with her foot, not
answering, taking the occasional sip from her glass. She eventually
wandered back and stood beside me.
She stood quietly for several seconds, apparently pondering a reply. “It’s not fair,” she finally muttered.
That
wasn’t what I’d expected. “No shit. Life’s about as unfair as I could
ever imagine,” I answered honestly. “Good people get hurt for no
apparent reason. Jack-offs seem to glide along easily without a care in
the world. Innocent little girls have their lives cut short
meaninglessly. Good-hearted neighbors have their lives crapped on as if
it was some big cosmic joke.” I could hear my own voice getting louder
and more frustrated. “Life’s a fucking kick in the ass, and every time
it looks like something nice might come out of it, some cosmic comedian
pulls the rug out from under you. What kind of God destroys a family for
no good reason? Huh? Answer me that!” I was almost shouting by the end
of my tirade.
“I…I think I need to go home now.” She turned and started walking away.
I chased after her, “Please, can you take just a few? Please. It’s killing me to see them here.”
She
stumbled a bit, then paused. Without turning she said, “Bring over what
you want around midnight.” Then she slipped out the back door.
I
took a few minutes to compose myself after she left. I’d made a
complete ass of myself. Oh well. About par for the course. I decided to
make another short appearance at Cathy’s to at least say my goodnights.
My nosy neighbor caught me the moment I made it in the door. “John told
me you were around, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“I ran into Sandy, and we broken people sort of hid out in your backyard.”
She looked at me quizzically. “I was kind of surprised she came over. She didn’t say a word about what we did this afternoon.”
“Lucky
you. I’ve still got the scars,” I teased. Then I told her a little
about our discussion, including the insurance situation and the deal
with the gifts.
“Thank
God. Maybe she can finally stop working 16 hours a day, and spend some
time with her daughter. That’ll be nice. I was wondering what you were
going to do with all those gifts. I was afraid you were going to make a
memorial out of them, leaving them there year after year, until the dust
was an inch thick over them.”
Her words stung a bit. “I’m not that bad.”
“No, you’re not. Although you had me worried there for a bit. It’s just a hard thing to take. I understand that.”
“I guess it’s not a problem now.”
She smiled. “I guess not. Erica’s a lucky little girl.”
"I don't know if I'd say that, but at least she might have a nice Christmas."
"I'm
glad you came over tonight. A lot of our friends were worried for you.
Your appearance was a nice Christmas gift for them as well."
"I
can't say I really care too much. I know it sounds harsh, but how they
feel isn't really high up there on my list of priorities at the moment."
"That's Ok. It's still nice that you came."
"I
appreciate your inviting me. And for being the nagging neighborly
meddlesome busybody you've been for the last couple of weeks."
She
laughed. "That's the nicest thing anybody's said to me in a while, and
in the nastiest way. I guess you are feeling a little better."
I sighed. "A little. Although I doubt Christmas will ever be the same for me again."
She moved in and gave me a hug. "It'll never be the same. But it may still, someday, be Ok."
I hugged her back, quietly. I doubted it.
Back
home, I dressed down to sweats and a t-shirt, torturing myself a little
by watching The Little Drummer Boy, Briana's favorite. Life was so
fucking unfair. My girls were gone. It was Christmas and I was alone.
I'd never, ever, spend another Christmas with Briana and Allora. Never.
An
hour later I was at Sandy's back door with three huge garbage bags full
of gifts. It had taken me two trips. I knocked softly and a few moments
later Sandy let me in. She'd gotten rid of her party clothes as well,
answering the door in a plain robe. She looked tired. I guessed that
she'd been waiting up for me.
"Erica?" I asked softly.
"Asleep," she confirmed, taking one of the bags from me.
Quietly
we headed to her front room and started spreading out the gifts. On
each one, I removed the existing tag and she put a new sticker 'from
Santa' on it. She asked me what was in each, but I couldn't remember all
of them. Still, I was able to fill her in on the majority. She must
have had some plan in mind, because she organized them according to my
descriptions of their probable contents, separating them in neat little
piles. After about 15 minutes I looked over and saw her shaking her
head.
"What?"
"It's too much."
"That's what my ex said every year. I never got a complaint from the girls."
She gave me a wry smile. "At least one of us is going to have a pretty spectacular Christmas."
"Isn't that how it should be?"
I saw her nod, and noticed that her eyes were glistening again. I decided to leave it alone.
Until
those moments, I really hadn't seen Sandy as a woman. I'd related to
her as a person in need. But between her dressing up at the party, her
comments on my patio, and the way she was dressed in just a robe, I'm
almost ashamed to say I was scoping her out.
She
was rail thin, with short dark brown hair, almost black. She wasn't
very large on top, but when she was moving around on her hands and
knees, arranging presents, I got a few glimpses inside the top of her
robe, and saw the swelling of very feminine breasts. Her legs were as
thin as the rest of her, but with decent calf definition. Some of her
movements were less than ladylike, and I saw myself peeking up the
bottom of her robe, looking at her pale inner thighs, or glancing at her
round rear giving form to her robe.
Her
face was cute. Small turned up nose, narrow mouth with bowed upper lip,
and natural eyebrows fuller than was popular, above big brown eyes.
Those eyes were extremely expressive, and somewhat mesmerizing.
I found myself looking at her too often, and she eventually caught me at it.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," I answered quickly. Trying to cover myself I explained. "You just look happier than I've seen you until now."
One corner of her mouth turned up. "I guess for once you're seeing me when I'm not completely pissed-off at you."
We
finished with the gifts and I carefully stood up and gingerly stepped
around the pretty wrapped up presents. I turned and held my hand out to
Sandy while she did her best to maneuver around them without stepping on
any. She almost made it before stumbling at the last minute, kicking a
pile over and falling toward me. I caught her and held her up, pulling
her backward with me until the wall halted my retreat.
She stared up at me, my arms still wrapped under hers, holding her closer than I intended. Her hair smelled like strawberries.
"I should be furious with you," she said, leaning into me.
"I know."
I pulled her upright, but she clung to me, pressing against me.
"We don't need anybody." She sounded angry again.
I shrugged, hard to do while holding a fragile woman in my arms. "I don't have anybody."
Her look softened. "I'm sorry."
"Don't
be. I'll be okay." I closed my eyes, and thought once more of my kids. I
could feel myself on the verge of losing it again.
Without
warning her lips were on mine, gentle at first. Then I felt her fingers
dig into my skin, and she was kissing me fiercely, her teeth pressed
hard against my lips. I pulled her tightly against my body, opening my
mouth to hers, returning her ardor.
It
was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. She was clutching at me,
kissing me, hugging me, hitting me, scratching me, while I stood there
holding her, absorbing it all. I waited for her to calm down, and when
she didn't I reached down and lifted her by the ass, holding her tight,
while her legs encircled me. She bit my lip hard, and I could taste
blood, while her claws sank into my shoulders.
I
could feel the anger and frustration in her, the desire to strike out
somehow at the unfairness of it all. I echoed those feelings, accepting
them, expanding them, and returning them in kind. Yes, I was angry too.
Furious. The taste of my own blood on my lips just served to fuel the
fire.
Like
everything else, having her vent her anger on me, while I was the only
one in the world trying to help her was patently unfair. I was hurting
too. I had lost so much more. So very much more. I was tired of being
treated like dirt.
Holding
her by the rear in one hand, I grasped her hair from behind, pulling
her hair back making her gasp. I lowered my mouth to her slender neck
and bit her, sucking on her flesh. Both of her hands went to my head,
entangling in my hair, and pulling my face down against her. Her hips
ground against me, while her bare feet beat a tattoo against my back.
Sandy
pulled my head back by the hair, and I loosened my grip on hers. She
stared into my eyes, hers flashing with pent up emotions.
"Damn you!" she gasped. She leaned in and pressed her lips against mine again, still fierce and unrelenting.
I
turned and pressed her against the wall, trapping her there with my
body. My hand lowered and slid into her robe, meeting nothing but bare
flesh. I grabbed her breast and squeezed, causing her to moan into my
mouth. Her hands weren't idle and she was pushing the top of my sweats
down, using her feet to push them down in the back. She squeezed a hand
between us, her other wrapped around my shoulders, and I felt her
fingers wrap around my hardness. It was hard to believe how I was
responding to her and her tantrum, but there was no doubt.
I
took over, pushing my sweats down, letting them slide down to my
ankles, drawing my boxers with them. I was naked from the waist down and
exposed. Our lips had never separated, and she sucked hungrily on my
tongue, while I tore open her robe, roughly. Like me, she was naked
underneath, except for a pair of loose shorts. She had my turgid rod in
her hand, and aimed it at her moist opening.
She groaned. Her hand now free, she grabbed me by the hair and tugged back, drawing her lips away. "You bastard," she gasped.
"Bitch,"
I growled. I pulled my hips back and thrust into her hard, pushing her
into the wall, eliciting another gasp. I felt my own anger welling up
inside of me. I knew I wasn't really angry at her, but she was the
unintended victim of my fury.
"That's right, use me," she whispered harshly. "Go ahead, nail me you prick, like everyone else has."
I
took her ass cheeks in my hands and pulled her away from the wall,
lifting her up off me, before releasing her, letting her weight impale.
One at a time, I reached my arms under her legs, her thighs resting on
my forearms, my hands gripping her ass cheeks tightly. I tugged her
shorts down in back, exposing her soft ass-cheeks, and grabbed her
cheeks tightly digging my fingers in. She linked her fingers behind my
neck, and leaned backward, exposing her upper body to my gaze. Her small
breasts had the most perfect little nipples, hardened for me. I fucked
her hard and fast, while my strength and fury held out.
As
my arms grew tired I walked to the living room. She released each of
her arms, long enough to let her robe fall, leaving her almost naked. I
lowered her, setting her butt down on the arm of the couch. She let go
of me, leaning backward, lowering her back to the couch. Her hips were
now positioned well above her body, and I pulled her toward me hard, so
her lower back was on the couch arm. I yanked her shorts off and threw
them to the side, staring down at her sexy naked body. I opened her legs
wide, slid into her warmth, while she moaned so damn sexily. Holding
her legs in my hands and lifting them high and wide, she was effectively
immobilized by her own weight resting on her shoulders. I was free to
do as I please.
She
lay there, staring up at me, her eyes burning. I didn't want to look
into those condemning orbs. I roughly turned her over, her smooth soft
ass raised up by the arm of the couch. I spread her legs, making her
pay. I held her hips tightly and vented my feelings.
Looking between us, I was hypnotized by the sight. The incredible feeling was overcoming my ire, and I just enjoyed her.
I
couldn't take much more. I grabbed her hips and leaned over her. I
looked down and saw she'd twisted her torso to look back at me.
"Do it." She ordered.
I
slammed, unable to resist the urge any longer. Gasping, I came, the
release painful in its urgency, exploding deep, over and over again. Her
legs were flailing, and as I slowed she relaxed, bent over the arm like
a rag doll, lifeless.
She
squealed when I lifted her up, spinning her around to sit on the arm. I
could see she had tears in her eyes, and wet streaks running down her
cheeks. I slid my arms around her, holding her close, squeezing her
frail body. Her arms slid around my torso and she pressed her face
against my chest.
I
held her while I felt her body shaking. I felt horrible, sickened at
what I'd done. I'd exploited her viciously, using her, venting my
aggravation and unhappiness on the one person I knew who'd already
suffered enough on her own. I could feel my own eyes welling up.
We
held each other, desperately, clutching to anything that might let us
ride out this horrible time in our lives. My hands relaxed as did the
tightness that had been enveloping my body. I caressed her back, feeling
her ribs under the soft skin. I pressed my lips to her hair, kissing
her softly. She was returning my kisses, pressing her lips to my chest
and shoulders, rubbing her hands over the scratches she'd given me
earlier.
I realized I was nudging her, eager to continue. I held her, while she sobbed against me.
I massaged her back, nuzzling her hair, kissing her temples. "I'm sorry," I whispered.
"Don't," she sobbed. "Don't you dare apologize! Not now. Not ever."
I pushed her head back, and lowered my lips to hers, kissing her softly. "I won't."
"Good."
She looked up and touched my lip, drawing back a finger red with my blood. "Oh God! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that."
"No apologies. Remember?"
She answered by reaching up and kissing my lip. When she drew back I could see a little red on hers.
I
kissed her back, feeling her return it this time, still moving. Her
legs spread wider. When I looked back into her eyes they were
smoldering.
"Take me to bed," she whispered.
"Are you sure?"
"No. Do it anyway."
I
stood carefully, my pretty little sister-in-misery still impaled on my
rod. She wrapped her legs around me tightly and clung to me with both
arms. I held her by her sweet little ass and slowly climbed the stairs.
With each step I lifted and lowered her, screwing her along the way.
Nearing the top step she surprised me by giggling.
"What?"
"You're stronger than you look," she said, softening the words with careful little kisses bestowed across my chest.
"You're light as a feather. I need to feed you."
She smiled wickedly. "A protein oral injection?"
I almost dropped her, and she giggled, "What?"
"You, young lady, have a dirty mind."
I
saw a storm flitter across her face, but she shook it off and smiled.
"It's been a long time, Alex. I'm not so good at flirting and teasing."
"Ditto, beautiful. Bear with me."
She made a little rolling movement of her hips, ending with my cock completely sheathed within her moistness.
She giggled. "Damn! I can't believe you can just hold me like this."
I pulled her up and down on my cock a few times, drawing a quiet gasp out of her. "I could hold you like this forever."
I had cleared the last step and was walking her into her bedroom.
Once again a flurry of emotions danced across her face, ending with a smile. "But then how would you ever feed me?"
I reached back and closed the door behind us.
Mischievously,
I pulled her high in the air, making her squeal. She really was as
light as a rag doll. I doubted she weighed a hundred pounds. I held her
in my arms like a baby, rocking her. A very sexy baby.
I
had one arm under her legs, and the other under her back, and she
turned in my arms, her lips closing around my nipple. I lifted her
shoulder high, then removed the arm under her back, causing her to fall
downward. Not far, since I caught her by the hips, hanging upside down.
She gasped, her legs kicking out, her arms circling my waist. I wrapped
an arm around her, pulling her legs down onto my shoulders, pressing her
warm pinkness against my face.
Her
face was down around my waist. She squeezed her legs tightly around my
head, her thighs pressing hard against my ears. "You're crazy!" she
gasped.
"See. I can hold you and still feed you," I teased, then licked her, my tongue probing her.
She giggled, and I felt her warm lips engulf. I grabbed her near the hips, and lowered her a bit.
For
all my bravado, it was amazingly difficult, and I could feel my arms
trembling from the effort. I held her still, her mouth filled with me,
and walked the few remaining steps to the bed.
She
was getting more active, sucking and moving her head back and forth. It
felt incredible. I almost didn't want to put her down. But I knew if I
didn't there was a chance I'd drop her soon. With one last herculean
effort I lifted her up and leaned over depositing her in a squirming
ball of flesh on her mattress.
She
spent no time at all sitting up and pulled me onto the bed. I reached
out for her but she pulled away. "Lay down. My turn now."
I
stretched out in the middle of her bed, and watched her crawl to my
waist, move between my legs and look up at me before lowering her mouth
to my pulsating rod. She licked me, examining me.
It felt so damned incredible I moaned loudly.
She pulled up and pressed her fingers against her lips. "Shush. We don't want to wake anybody."
I mimed zipping my lips closed, barely containing another groan when she took me in her mouth again.
She
sucked me as if she were on a mission. Her hands worked me just below
where her mouth took over. I reached down and brushed her bangs aside so
I could watch her. That was enough encouragement for her to pick up the
pace, gasping when she pressed too hard.
"Sandy," I started to warn her.
She
held out her palm to me, sucking with complete abandon. I didn't say
another word. I let her draw my juices up and out, and moaned softly
when I finally achieved my much needed release, erupting between her
lips.
She
was breathing hard through her nose, holding me in her mouth, taking
all I had to offer and gamely swallowing it down. She sucked softly when
I was done shooting, and I could feel the pulses of tightness while she
swallowed repeatedly. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be
concentrating hard on completing her mission.
When
my hardness started to whither, she took me in her hand and stroked me,
her mouth tenderly sucking me, carefully tugging on me, her tongue
massaging. I relaxed on the bed and enjoyed her attention, concentrating
on the amazing feeling around my waist. The idea of getting hard for
her and continuing our play was combining with her devoted attention,
and I finally responded after a few minutes, hardening in her mouth.
That
seemed to be a signal to her and she sat up, sucking me more
aggressively, restoring the steel to my phallus, until it could stand on
its own, full and ready.
Sandy
moved up my body, straddled my waist and slid back home. She slowly
worked her way up and down. Then she settled and stretched. It was
beautiful to see, her slender body straining upward, her arms reaching
to the sky, her head leaning back, the curve of her rib cage accentuated
by the hollow of her belly, her perfect little breasts standing out
brave and eager, the pretty pink tips showing hard little caps.
After
a few moments in that pose she relaxed with a sigh, settling back down
and leaning forward until her hands were braced against my chest.
"Thanks for the meal," she said with a teasing smile.
"You are amazing," I confessed.
She gave me a sad little smile. "It's nice to hear someone say that. It's been a long, long time."
I reached out for her and she slid down to my chest, while I wrapped her in my arms. "That's a shame. You are so beautiful."
"You don't have to say that," she said into my shoulder.
"But you are." I held her, pushing with my hips, slowly screwing her while I held her.
"I'm not. I know it. It's okay."
I reached down and lifted her face so I could lean forward and kiss her.
It
was a long tender kiss, and afterwards I just held her. I kept my hips
moving gently, not wanting to lose the contact with her, staying hard
and filling her.
"Just hold me a bit, okay?" She softly petitioned.
"As long as you'll let me." I assured her, and I engulfed her in my arms, clutching her as if I'd never let her go.
I
could feel her trembling, her arms holding me tightly. Her back was
rising and lowering spasmodically, and I heard the tiny gasp of her
crying against me.
I
didn't try to quiet her or comfort her. I just held her, raining kisses
down onto the top of her head, holding her tightly, and easing my cock
back and forth into her.
We
spent several long minutes like that, until she slowly relaxed and her
death grip on me eased. I loosened my own grip, allowing my hands free
rein in their exploration of her body, stroking her, fondling her,
holding her tight little butt in my hands and pushing up into her. She
slowly responded, pushing back against my strokes, her tits pressing
into my chest.
I
pulled her tightly to my body, rose up on one arm and rolled over,
lifting her body off the bed, and settling it down below me. On top of
her now, I let go, raising my torso the length of my arms and thrusting
into her with long slow strokes.
She
looked so small and vulnerable underneath me. I leaned down and kissed
her, and she grabbed my head and kissed me back eagerly. She finally let
me go and I resumed my position, laying fully upon her body, happy to
be right where I was. I gazed down at her, wondering how I'd failed to
notice how pretty she was right from the start.
"Stop staring."
"I can't help it. You are so beautiful. I want to memorize everything about you."
"I'm not too skinny?" she asked.
"Nothing a few more meals can't fix," I teased.
I
embraced her in silence for a bit, then rose up to enjoy her more
thoroughly, opening her legs up for better access. She pulled her legs
back, holding her own ankles nearly parallel with her head.
I spread my legs and straightened them, raising my hips high before plunging down. She gasped and I smiled.
For
the first time that night I felt her responding deeply, shivering. She
released her feet and clutched her legs behind her knees, her shins
bracketing her pretty face.
I
rose up to my knees, leaning over and pushing down on the back of her
legs, as fast as I could, feeling the need to release, growing in me.
"Harder," she gasped, "harder."
I
slowed down just a bit. She was gasping continuously, her toes curling
up and her feet stretching out. I watched in delight as her head tilted
back and her eyes rolled back into her head, while she came, her entire
body quivering, her chest blushing bright red.
Just
as she appeared to be settling back down, gasping hard, I grabbed her
thighs, feeling my own need peaking. I couldn't hold back any longer and
buried myself deep, shooting hard, my hips jerking forward of their own
accord.
Sandy cried out, releasing her legs which kicked out and trembled while she came with me.
I
stretched out over her, while her legs slowly wrapped around me. Her
eyes were large, staring at me in ego-soothing wonder. I kissed her
softly.
"You are amazing," I told her.
She blushed. "I; I never; not like that," she murmured.
I
was exhausted, from head to toe, and my legs and arms were trembling
from my exertion. The front of my hips were sore, and my phallus felt
like it had been run through a wringer. I rolled off of her, lying on my
back, breathing hard. She rolled over and leaned her upper body into
mine. I reached around her, holding her close.
There
was so much I wanted to say, but I didn't know how, or where to start.
Instead I just kissed the top of her head while she held me. I reached
across with my opposite hand and stroked her side before allowing my
hand to settle over her breast, holding it gently, my fingers idly
toying with her nipple. She moved closer, lifting her leg over mine,
laying half on top of me. It allowed my arm holding her to wander,
touching her, feeling her. I could feel the wetness of her crotch
pressing into my hip, warm and wet.
I
closed my eyes, my arm stretched across her back, my hand holding the
warm flesh of her ass cheek. Her breathing was slow and steady, her arm
thrown across my chest. I pressed my lips against her hair one last
time, leaned back and relished holding this sweet, sexy, troubled woman.
I
woke abruptly, confused. I was alone in a strange bed, the covers
pulled up to my chin. Daylight was streaming in the window, and I sat
up, disoriented. It took a few seconds for me to recall the previous
evening, and I looked around for Sandy. I started to get out of bed, and
realized I was naked, my clothes were still somewhere downstairs. I
pulled the covers over my waist, and looked around for something to
cover up with, before spotting my clothing from the night before folded
on a chair nearby.
I
pulled on my shorts and ducked into the bathroom for a much needed
leak. I splashed some water on my face and borrowed her brush to run it
through my wild hair. I took a swig of mouthwash and did my best to look
partially human before heading back to the bedroom. I was pulling on my
sweats when Sandy appeared with a cup of coffee. It smelled delicious.
She
smiled and passed it to me. She was dressed in pajamas, and had clearly
showered and cleaned up. Her hair was still moist. "Hurry up. There's a
little girl downstairs almost bursting with the need to open her
presents."
I
took a sip of the coffee, hot and strong, then passed it back to her
for a second while I pulled on my shirt. I straightened it out and
retrieved my coffee for another sip.
She was watching me intently, a sad little smile on her face.
I started to speak but she cut me off.
"No.
Let's not talk about it right now. It was something we both needed, but
it doesn't have to mean anything. It just happened. I don't regret it.
Right now we need to go downstairs."
I
moved to her and grabbed her chin. I saw she was nervous and wondered
if she'd practiced that little speech. I leaned over and kissed her
softly, continuing until she responded.
"I just want to say you are amazing. Really."
"So you keep saying," she teased.
"What is Erica going to think?"
"I
told her you had a sleepover. She probably has a good idea what that
means, kids are so precocious these days, but she seemed alright with
it."
"Shit. I feel like a jerk, spoiling her Christmas with you."
She
hit me, her little fist landing solidly on my chest, almost making me
spill my coffee. "Shut up. It's because of you that she's having a
Christmas worth mentioning at all."
She
turned and headed downstairs, and I had to pull my eyes away from her
cute little butt, before I had a physical response that would be almost
too much to bear. I realized she was walking tentatively, and wondered
if she was as sore as I was this morning. Probably. Maybe more so.
We
headed straight for the living room, and sat back on the couch about a
foot apart while Erica waited for us, standing beside the presents
almost shaking. She watched her mother anxiously, glancing my way long
enough for a quick smile. When her mother nodded she dove into the
presents grabbing the closest and tearing it open.
She
oohed and aahed over each new gift, while the pile of unwrapped ones
grew smaller and an ever growing field of toys gradually overtook the
room.
She
shrieked and jumped up and down when she opened the iPod touch, pulling
off the $50 iTunes gift certificate. She'd been pretty quiet up until
then but she climbed over to her mother and gave her a big hug.
"He
knew, Momma, he knew!" she shrieked in joy, stopping her present
opening to crack open the iPod box and pull it out, looking it over,
holding it reverently in her hands.
I
felt a warm hand settle onto mine, giving a soft squeeze. I turned my
wrist and held her hand in mine, interlocking our fingers. I looked over
to Sandy, and saw the tears in her eyes. With a sniffle she carefully
brushed them away.
As
usual, the new clothing got short shrift, being tossed into a growing
pile, but she did look each one over, holding it up against her body,
asking her mother's opinion on several before moving on.
I listened to Sandy laugh at her daughter's antics, and thought it was the most beautiful sound I had heard in ages.
Erica
was about halfway through the gifts. I watched her reach for a big box,
and I gave her mother's hand a squeeze. "Maybe that one should be
last," I whispered.
"Erica, darling, that one's from Mr. Reed. Why don't you open it last?"
Erica
looked up, her surprise matching my own. She moved it to the side and
continued her quest to eliminate the pile of wrapped presents.
The
small purse with five $10 bills was another big hit, as were the
rollerblades, each calling for another shriek and a visit to her
mother's lap, bringing forth more giggles and laughter from the woman
beside me. Sandy was smiling hugely, taking the wrapping paper from her
daughter and filling a garbage bag with it as we went.
I
was torn. Each gift I'd so carefully picked out for my girls was
disappearing. I couldn't help but think about how I should be spending
my Christmas, if I hadn't received such a kick in the teeth from fate. A
couple of times I felt myself tearing up, my breath catching in my
chest. Sandy moved closer, her leg pressed against mine, holding my hand
in both of hers, tightly, in her lap.
Then
I would see the joy on young Erica's face, and I'd wipe the tears away,
taking a deep breath, knowing that it was what my daughter's would have
wanted. Their hearts had been as big as the world.
I felt Sandy's head lean into my shoulder, and I gave her hand another squeeze.
Finally
the presents ran out. There were two gifts remaining. The one that had
been there on that first day, which seemed so long ago but had only been
three days earlier, and the big one.
She
looked over at us, then starting peeling away the paper off of her
mother's present. There was a book sized jewelry box inside, and she
opened it shrieking. "Grandma's necklace?" she asked.
"You always liked it," Sandy said.
Erica
came over and sat between her mother's legs, lifting her hair up out of
the way so her mother could attach the chain behind her neck. I could
now see it was an old-fashioned locket and Erica was clutching at it
like she'd never let it go. Sandy finally got the chain latched, and
gave her a little shove.
Erica
stood up and ran to the mirror, looking at herself. She came and stood
in front of us, striking several poses. It was so damned cute. I
couldn't help but laugh.
That got Sandy's attention, and she giggled as well, cuddling up next to me and pulling my arm around her shoulders.
We watched Erica go to the last big box, glancing back at us as if waiting for permission.
"Go on," I teased, "you can't stop now!"
She
grabbed the edge of the wrapping paper, and tore into it. She ripped
large chunks of paper off, tossing them toward her mother, before
suddenly coming to a complete stop. She screamed out, stood up and
danced in place. I'd never seen anybody so excited. She bent over and
tore the paper away roughly exposing the PS3 and the piles of games
taped to the top.
"Mom!
Mom! It's a PS3!" she cried out, bending over and lifting the box,
twirling around with it, before stumbling and dropping it to the floor.
Sandy laughed, "Careful! You don't want to break it before you get a chance to use it."
Erica
scrambled across the coffee table between us and launched herself into
my lap. She gave me a huge hug, squeezing me so hard I thought she might
break something.
I felt her breath against my ear. "Thank you, Santa." I felt her soft lips press against my cheek, bringing a tear to my eye.
I
hugged her to me. "I hope you enjoy your present." I could feel the
tears welling up, threatening to overflow, and I clung to her for a few
seconds. "Go on now, open it up."
She
jumped up and started tearing at the box, peeling off the games,
instantly separating them into piles. So much like her mother. I felt
Sandy shifting on the couch next to me, and I turned toward her, just as
her arms wrapped around me. She kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you."
I hugged her. "I should be thanking you. I never thought I could enjoy Christmas again."
She smiled. "That would be horrible," she said softly, "if Santa couldn't enjoy Christmas."
I
thought we were finally done, but Erica went behind the tree and
returned with two gifts wrapped in newspaper comics. She gave her mother
one, and gave me the other.
Sandy
and I looked at each other, then she opened her gift. Inside was a
hand-made ornament, a picture of their little family, Sandy, Erica, and
the missing father, smiling as if everything was perfect in the world.
The picture was framed in popsicle sticks, with pipe-cleaners glued to
it. It was too cute for words.
"If we hang it on the tree, then Daddy can share Christmas with us from heaven," Erica explained.
I saw Sandy choke up, then give her daughter a big hug. "It's beautiful."
"Hang it up, mom!" Erica insisted.
Sandy got up and placed it in the middle of the tree, carefully arranging it so it faced the room. "I love it Erica, thank you."
Erica was standing in front of me, hopping from foot to foot. "Your turn," she announced.
I
opened the paper carefully, and saw a hand drawn picture, colored in
crayons on some light colored cardboard. It took me a second to realize
what it was. "It's us painting the door, isn't it?"
"Yep. And that's momma, trying to look angry." She pointed to a stick figure at the side.
It
must have taken her a while. The picture was pretty big, more than a
foot tall, and she'd carefully drawn the door in great detail, coloring
it blue, and she had little Christmas decorations all around it. She was
kneeling down painting the bottom, and I had this ridiculously long
body, bent over at the waist, painting the door just above her head.
I pointed to the figure to the side. "If she's angry, how come she's smiling?" I asked.
Erica
laughed. "She's only trying to be angry. She's really happy. She just
isn't allowed to show it. She has to act sad because Daddy's gone."
I
held the picture up, then made a show of hugging it. "It's my very
favorite Christmas present. I'm going to frame it and put it on my
desk."
Erica climbed up on the couch and hugged me. "Will you hook up my PS3?"
"Of course I will," I told her, returning her hug.
"And
I'll start breakfast," Sandy announced. I looked up, and she was wiping
tears from her face again. What a roller-coaster of emotions.
It
only took a few minutes, and we had the game system hooked up and Erica
was debating which game to start with. She barely got it loaded before
we were called over for breakfast.
"Mo-om!" Erica pouted.
"It's not going anywhere. You can play after breakfast."
It
was surrealistic, sitting there at the table, with eggs, toast and
sausage on my plate, and a glass of orange juice at the ready. Erica had
cereal in her bowl and a tall glass of milk. Like a normal family.
I
was still stunned by how talkative Erica had become, as she told us all
about her gifts. "Can Taylor come over later and play?" she asked.
"We'll see," Sandy told her. "It's Christmas, her parents may want her to stay at home today."
"What are your favorite gifts?" I asked.
She
seemed to think about it, and I watched her hand move up to the locket
around her neck. It was cute watching her face scrunch up as she really
thought it over.
"I
think it was your sleepover," she finally announced, catching me off
guard and almost making me spit my orange juice across the table.
Sandy was just as surprised, "Really? Better than the PS3?" she asked.
Erica nodded vehemently. She looked at me, "Momma's happy."
I looked over at Sandy, and saw her blushing furiously.
I reached over and tousled Erica's hair. "I'm happy too. Happier than I thought I could be."
Erica nodded solemnly. "I know. Your girls went to heaven too. These were their presents, right?"
I nodded. "I knew they'd want you to have them."
She took a bite of her cereal. "Allora was nice. We made a poster for her in class. I drew an angel."
Hearing
her name was tough. Suddenly everything felt wrong. I should be sitting
at a table with her and Briana, listening to them chatter. Watch them
fight over playing with each other's gifts. No chance of that now. The
room was becoming blurry, tears for my lost girls filling my eyes.
"Don't
be sad," Erica said, reaching out and touching my arm. "They're in
heaven now, and they get to watch us. They wouldn't want you to be sad."
I forced myself to smile. "I bet the poster was beautiful. I wish I could see it."
"Mrs. Viola would probably let me take it home for you," she said.
"I'd like that."
Erica was eating her cereal as fast as she could, and she pushed the empty bowl away. "Can I play now?"
Sandy gave her the go ahead, and she made a beeline toward the TV.
Sandy and I looked at each other. "She's become quite the chatterbox," I mentioned.
"Thank God," Sandy said, standing up and taking up the plates. "Let's hope it sticks."
I cleared my own stuff and joined her at the sink. "I should go home soon."
"I understand," she said softly.
"I have to stop by the in-laws. I promised. But I'd like to come by later if you don't mind. Maybe we can have dinner together."
She seemed a little distant. "You don't have to. You've done enough already."
I put my arms around her, and felt her stiffen. "Don't tell Erica, but her drawing was only my second favorite Christmas gift."
I felt her relax a bit, and she turned toward me, allowing me to hug her properly. I leaned down and kissed her softly.
She giggled. "Oh, really?"
"Really. The sleepover was my favorite."
"That
gift will have to hold you over for a while. Another sleepover and I
don't think I'd ever be able to walk again. You beast." Her smile took
any sting out of the words.
"No kidding. I'd have to learn to talk with only one lip."
Her eyes opened wide, and she raised her hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
I kissed her again. "No apologies, remember."
She smiled. "Alright. Dinner would be nice, but I didn't have anything special planned."
"Let me take care of the dinner."
She grinned salaciously. "That's right. You did promise to feed me."
That made me blush.
"As a matter of fact, if you're not in a huge hurry, maybe you could feed me again, before you have to leave."
I looked over at Erica.
"She'll
be fine. You won't be able to tear her away from those games for
hours." She took me by the hand, and drew me over to the stairs.
Half-an-hour
later, I'd fed her, but not before proving to us both that we fit each
other perfectly. It was quiet, and gentle, and just what I needed to
make it clear that the previous night wasn't a one-time accidental
thing.
It's
been a year since that first Christmas. Things weren't always easy
between us, we still had sharp edges and wounds that weren't quick to
heal, but we stuck to it.
Any
talk of holding Erica back in school ended quickly. She's an A student,
smart as a whip, and even talking about playing volleyball. Her quiet
spell snapped that Christmas.
Within
six months I'd moved in with Sandy and Erica, and we'd become
landlords, renting out my two houses, and using our new found wealth to
buy a few foreclosures, renovate them and rent them out as well. Sandy
quit her jobs and was relishing her new real-estate magnate career. Even
if the rentals can be a headache sometimes.
By
September we were talking about marriage, and decided to forgo any big
ceremony and flew off to Vegas for a mini-vacation and a quick wedding.
We even conned Cathy and John to join us for a couple of days. Cathy was
our matron of honor. Steve and Darla surprised us by showing up as
well. He insisted that if I was going to put on the noose again
willingly, he'd be my best man. He always was.
We're
wrapping Erica's gifts now. I guess overdoing it at Christmas is one
habit I'll never get over. Every once in a while I can't help but reach
over and rub Sandy's belly. Erica's excited by the idea of having a new
baby brother by summer.
Me?
I'm excited by our new Christmas tradition. I get to re-enact our first
Christmas sleepover. Sandy's even wearing that silly, ratty old robe.
She's promised never to get rid of it.
Christmas
will always be bitter sweet to me, and sometimes I still get the blues
and need some time to myself to think about those little girls that had
their lives cut short so unfairly. I miss them terribly, and think about
them every day.
Christmas will never be the same. But I'm not complaining.
Based on the post from Tx Tall Tales for Literotica.