Chapitre 1610: MERRY CHRISTMAS, BABY SISTER
She couldn't even wait for me to fly with her.
You'd think that 10 or so months of unofficially dating (since officially dating was out of the question) would mean something. Not so much with Ellen apparently. She could've easily waited. It would've meant a day; that's all I would've needed to finish at the office. But no. She just had to travel to Saskatchewan as soon as her classes ended.
"We are siblings for fucks sake. We live in the same goddamn city."
"Yeah, but everyone else from the flat is leaving. Besides, I have plans to meet up with some friends in Regina."
I pondered our argument on the plane to Regina. The dull flight would've been more entertaining with some company. It wouldn't have killed her to wait one more day. Maybe something sketchy was up.
After what had felt like an eternity, the plane finally touched down on the icy runway of Regina Airport. I was travelling light so I was able to skip the baggage claim. As I found my way into the tiny arrivals area, I immediately spotted Mom and Pops. Mom was looking good, had apparently just been to the hairdressers for the occasion and cropped her hair short. Some blonde highlights in her chestnut hair gave it a fresh look. Pops though... Well, he looked as Popeye as he had always looked. If it works, why change?
Mom's eyes sparkled as she took me in for a tight hug. "Welcome home, sweetie!" The familiar smell of cigarettes oozed out of her clothing.
The amount of affection she unashamedly showed me in public would've been embarrassing had I been in my teens. I had matured enough to appreciate it.
"How was your flight?" asked Pops, as he took me in for a hug.
He was not my biological father, but he had played the part for as long as I could remember. As Mom had never wanted to deceive me, she had confessed to me that he wasn't exactly my "dad" even if he was more than willing to be it for me. Consequently, I had always called him Pops. The name stuck.
I was happy to see my parents, I truly was. Yet one piece was missing.
"Where is Ellie?" I asked them confused.
My mother grinned awkwardly, clearly apologetic.
"She said she'd rather wait at home. She wanted to get some things done before your arrival."
"Isn't she a busy bee," I sighed and rolled my eyes.
She laughed light-heartedly at my remark. Ellen had inherited Mom's cheerful laughter. In many ways they looked very similar as well; both were quite short, a little plump. It would've been a lie to say that Ellen hadn't taken after her father as well, especially in the shape of her face, which was quite round. But thinking about their similarities always weirded me out. Seeing Ellen's lovely feminine qualities repeated in Pops disturbed me. Especially now.
The car ride passed with us exchanging pleasantries, talking about weather, general catching up. But the thought of Ellen not being there upset me.
I hadn't seen her much of late, and she never allowed me to come over. I had helped her with her move-in once it had been confirmed that her application at the University of Vancouver had been accepted. But after I had carried in the last of her furniture into that apartment that she'd be living in with a few other students, she practically pushed me out of the front door. Despite the proximity I was never invited over, and she would always insist on meeting me at my place. Admittedly I had no roommates to worry about. We had a lot of fun at my place, but it always felt like she was hiding me like a piece of dirty laundry.
Pops parked the car on the street in front of a mountain of snow. This mountain, I suspected, was their newly purchased home. Only windows and the front door had been dug out for access. It reminded me of those Hobbit homes in Lord of the Rings films.
"Welcome home," Pops announced, confirming my fears.
"I didn't expect an igloo," I jested.
"I take it you are volunteering for some shovelling then?"
"Sure," I sighed. I wasn't exactly thrilled to commit myself to manual labour, but Pops wasn't getting any younger.
I grabbed the single piece of luggage from the back of the car and followed Mom to the charming-looking wooden door. It was your usual brick house that you'd expect to see in a suburb, from the little that I could see. At least it looked more robust than the shack we used to call home.
As soon as I stepped in, it felt like I had been place in an oven. Not only was it warm but the indoor lighting had a homely yellow glow to it. The furniture was old, most of it from Mom's family heirlooms. Your average person would've disposed of it ages ago, but Mom loved antique. You couldn't talk her into replacing any of it. Pops, on the other hand, had never particularly cared for home decoration, safe for his beloved photographs. I could see the mismatched picture frames covering the walls of the hallway, each of them containing a long-forgotten instant of my childhood. I was certain I would find more pictures in the other rooms of the house.
"Just give me your jacket, honey. Step right in," Mom instructed, as she put away clothes into a stuffed closet in the hall.
That's when I finally caught sight of her. With one confident step, Ellen entered from behind a door frame on the right to stand right in the middle of the hallway. She was wearing a bright red skirt and a tight long-sleeved shirt on top of it, coloured dark grey. Her rich brown hair fell on her shoulders as if she had put in a lot of effort in making it look perfect. Maybe she had? Her hazelnut eyes sparkled at the sight of me and disarmed me of any grudgeful feelings I may have held until then. Her smile was a pure, unfiltered welcome.
"Andy!" she shouted with excitement, as if I was a puppy to be picked up. She ran into my arms and buried her face against my chest.
"Hey my sweet Ellie," I smiled. Finally, it felt like I was home. Feeling her warmth in my arms was all I needed to feel normal.
"Can't believe you are finally here! Come!" she grabbed me by the hand like she was in a hurry. Not knowing what was up I followed her, leaving our parents behind to manage with the overwhelming mountain of winter coats. Yet they were grinning conspiratorially and shaking their heads at the happy sight of us.
Ellen dragged me into a spacious living room. Large windows opened to a snow-filled garden. Hadn't it been the darkest season of the year, the living room might've been quite luminous. Now the darkness of the outdoors was challenged by the glow of the electric lights and a red brick fireplace where a homely fire was in its full blaze. By the fireplace there was the couch with matching armchairs, all in brown leather, facing a decent-sized television set. On the coffee table in the middle of it all was a bowl of red apples. In the other far end of the room was a white cupboarded open-plan kitchen. The massive kitchen island was something that Mom had been gushing about ever since the move-in. A round mahogany dining table functioned as the room diver in this multifunctional living space. All the pieces of it were familiar from my childhood.
There was an inescapable and delicious scent of cinnamon. Ellen guided me in front of the kitchen island and run on the other side of the counter to take out a pie pan out of the pitch-black oven. She placed it proudly on the marble counter.
"An apple pie," I stared at it, hypnotized by the fabulous colours of cinnamon, green apple and golden-brown crust.
"It's still your favourite, right?" Ellen smiled expectantly, her eyes set on my face. She walked back to my side and wrapped her arms around me.
"I also made some vanilla custard," she added. My left arm was pressing lightly against her soft breasts.
"Is this why you wouldn't come pick me up?" I smiled as it dawned on me.
"That and the fire place," my mother said, entering the room. "We don't want this place burning down so soon after move-in."
"The pie was just a little extra," Ellen grinned and gave me a peck on the cheek.
"Housewife material, that one," Pops commented as he took his place in an armchair, strategically placed right in front of the flat-screen TV. He switched it on with a flick of a wrist. "Mind serving your old man some pie as well? A Seahawks game is on."
Mom rolled her eyes. There was little that could come between Pops and his Seahawks. It was nice enough of him to have been there to welcome me home despite my arrival overlapping with the first quarter.
Sure enough, the entire family gathered around the TV, each with our own slice of pie and custard. It felt good to be home. Sitting together in front of the TV felt oddly natural considering how many months it had been since the last time we had come together for a Sunday game. In fact, it must've been almost a year ago.
But, unlike last year, this familiarity felt disconcerting for me. After all, things were not as they had been last year. Or at least they shouldn't be. Now Ellen was my lover.
Or was she? There she was sitting and enjoying her pie like this was a regular family get-together. Not that I wanted our parents to know that we were having sex on a regular basis. God no. But she had been suspiciously distant in the last few months, despite the mad, sweaty nights in my bed.
Mindlessly I ate my slice of pie, taking comfort in its gorgeous balance of cinnamon and sugar. Housewife material indeed. This was surely the best apple pie she had ever created. The romantic in me wished to believe that the secret ingredient was her love for me. And with love I don't mean the family kind.
"Ellie, would you show Andy your room?" Mom suggested as it cut to commercials. "His luggage is already there.
I looked at Ellen quizzically. Mom, immediately picking up on my confusion, rushed into explain:
"You are sharing a room with Ellie. This house has only so many beds. Ellie said you wouldn't mind." She sounded apologetic.
"It will be like the old times," Ellie smiled at me, nudging me with her elbow. She was adorably awkward.
"Of course, if you do need privacy, we could set you up on the couch but..." Mom sighed. She clearly felt sorry that the move had meant giving up our bedrooms. It did not truly matter, since Ellen and I had both moved away ages ago. But it made Mom still a little sentimental; her children were all grown up.
"No, no," I laughed, interrupting her. I didn't want my mother to get upset with nostalgia. "Sharing a room with Ellie is more than fine."
She offered me a relieved smile.
"I want you to get some rest during this break."
"I will, Mom. Don't worry about it."
"So, what are we waiting for?" Ellen said, jumping off the couch. The hem of her skirt swirled from the sudden motion. "You can eat more pie afterwards. Let's go."
With a little too much excitement I placed down the glass plate, almost smashing it by accident. Before Mom even had a chance to complain about my recklessness, me and Ellen had flown out of the room and run to what would be our bedroom for the next two weeks.
It would've been too suspicious to shut the door, but as soon as were inside, I pushed Ellen lightly against a wall and stole a mercifully long kiss from her. Her lips were eager, and I had her completely surrendered in my arms.
"I've missed you," I whispered in her ear in between kisses.
"I've missed you too," she giggled as my lips tickled the base of her neck.
Lightly she pushed me back so that she could look me in the eyes. Her gaze was solemn despite the faint smile on her lips.
"But we have to be more careful," her lovely pink lips spelled out. Her brown eyes were studying my expression, as if uncertain I even understood speech anymore.
"They won't find out," I assured her with a naughty smile. I leaned in for another kiss, but she placed her hand on my chest, pushing me back.
"Really, though," she sighed, as if I didn't understand the gravity of the situation.
But the fact is I did. I understood perfectly. I had with some horror entertained a fantasy of our parents finding out about our romance. Just glimpses, since I did not like to explore those thoughts and tried to brush them aside as soon as I conceived them: Pops disowning me; Mom crying; the impact of it all on poor Ellen.
"Really," I repeated sincerely.
She seemed satisfied with my response. Her entire body relaxed from knowing that I'll share the burden of our secret. She grabbed me violently by the shirt and jerked me back to have me kiss her lips some more.
My arms wrapped like tentacles around her, trying to cover every inch of her, absorb the very essence of her through every cell in my body. It was weird how her body could be so voluptuous yet tiny enough for me to feel like I was engulfing her.
Ultimately, she wriggled out of my arms, saying we should hurry back before they'd come and look for us. To my dismay, the small guest room had twin beds in it, one beside each wall. Knowing how little my mother respected my privacy as a teen, it seemed unlikely we could secretly and quietly combine the two to create one large playground for us to mess around in.
The night went on quietly watching football and eating Mom's famous vegetable lasagne. It all tasted a lot better now that my romance with Ellen still stood. I wished I could've squeezed her thigh as we sat in the dinner table, but the intimacy of the round table would've made my teasing too easy to detect. Still, I was looking forward for the dessert to be served in bed.
However, there was no dessert in bed. Whatever dessert there was, was the now cold, yet delicious, apple pie. Ellen retired to bed early, saying she would have to get up early for some Christmas shopping with Mom. When I sneaked into our room, a sexy nymphet wasn't waiting for me in a seductive piece of lingerie, but a slumbering girl in her pyjamas. Despite the disappointment I couldn't help but smile at the sweet image of Ellen's peaceful face, as she quietly snored in her bed.
- - -
Seeing as Ellen would be away anyway, I volunteered to do the housework in the morning. It was already Christmas Eve, and I was determined to spend my Christmas Day doing nothing but eating, sleeping and watching TV.
Mom had left a box with all the Christmas decorations on the kitchen table, as they would later be needed for the tree. After some light dusting and vacuuming, I placed some of the ornaments on the mantelpiece and the green wooden candelabra on the dining table on top of a Christmas-themed table cloth. I found long white candlesticks in a drawer. Once I had combined them with the candelabra, the room started to look festive.
Either there had been a serious snow storm a couple of nights before or Pops hadn't bothered shovelling for a couple of weeks. Judging by the amount of ice, I was guessing the latter.
It was a thoroughly white day. Not only was the ground white from the snow, but the sky was covered by a single diaper of equally white cloud. It was as if the entire world had gone colour blind.
I had overestimated the arctic temperatures of Canada, since after only a bit of shovelling I was already feeling quite warm in my coat. There was no wind, nothing to cool down my overheating body. Before I knew it, I had ditched the coat, the gloves, the beanie.
After one and a half hours of hard constant work, I had cleared the path to the shed and managed to make the house visible again. The driveway was cleared. All the excess snow was piled up into a private skiing slope at the back of the house in the garden. By then I was already soaked, having not dared to peel off any other layers of clothing in fear of catching cold. I took in a deep breath of fresh air, admiring the finished work. Sadly, I knew it would only take a brief snow storm to undo any good I had accomplished here.
It was a nice bathroom they had, with a rainfall shower and white subway tile. Everything else about the house was so rustic that I hadn't expected to find it equipped with a modern bathroom. My muscles ached from the repetitive exercise. I allowed my mind to go blank as I stood under the shower and felt the water trickling down my body, the tired arms and the back.
Honestly, I was a little smug about my body. Not that it was particularly athletic, but in the last couple of years it had gotten bulkier. I was no longer a stick figure with limbs too long for my own good. There was hair growing on my arms and my chest: I had the body of an adult man. I admired my own attractiveness, took pride in my strength. My relationship with Ellen had made me more aware of my newly-acquired manliness. She seemed to find it irresistible. It made me see my body in a completely new light. It boosted my confidence. And maybe it made me a bit of a narcissist but it added to my self-esteem.
At some point I became aware of the front door slamming shut, which was followed by the sound of heels clicking down the hallway. I quickly deduced Mom and Ellen must have arrived home. Instead of wasting anymore water in my meditative state, I quickly washed my hair and got out with a towel around my waist. Maybe not the most modest of my outfits, but I hadn't thought of bringing a change of clothes. My mother was there to receive me, seeing as the living area was in full view of the bathroom door.
"There you are, hon!" she greeted, ignoring my indecency.
"Hey," I said awkwardly, not quite sure whether to stay for chit chat. Yet words just flowed out of my mouth: "How was shopping? You got everything?"
"Sure did. And I see you've been busy here as well!" She exclaimed, gesticulating at the decorations with a pleased expression on her face. "And the driveway! You've done a magnificent job."
It was truly touching seeing her take such pride in her son doing a little bit housework. It was difficult not to blush at all the praise. She was never one to criticize, especially not her own children.
"Oh honey, sorry!" she exclaimed as she remembered my nakedness. "Go get dressed before you catch a cold."
"Yeah, yeah, will do," I laughed.
I was a little chilly despite the generously high-set heating, so I hurried to the bedroom. My mind was so preoccupied to get myself dressed I was somehow a little confused to find Ellen there. She was lying on her stomach on top of her bed. She was wearing an endearingly short brown skirt, grey knee socks and a baggy Christmas pullover with Darth Vader on it. "Vader Christmas" was written on it in whimsical cursive.
"Hey," I blurted out, surprised.
It appeared she had been the midst of watching a video on her phone, for she was wearing her earphones. Only her eyes glanced up to study the sight of myself in a towel with water slowly trickling down my legs and leaving spot on the new carpet floor. The expression on my face made her chuckle.
"Hi there," she replied cheekily.
I shut the door quietly behind me, unsure why I thought she shouldn't be there. After all, we shared the room.
She merely stared at me quietly, smiling. Evidently, she was very amused by the awkward situation of me having walked in on her. Her eyes never lingered in one place for too long, but they always returned to my face as if to watch my reaction to her eyes darting from one part of my body to another. I felt a bit shy at being examined in this manner. Still, I could feel my cock stirring under the towel, intrigued by her undivided attention and curious where it all would lead.
Her eyes caught glimpse of that too.
She began biting her lower lip, a habit of hers she often displayed when she was aroused. I walked up to her bed, allowing the loosely-tied towel to fall on the floor. It was almost like a dare. With some effort she kept her eyes steady on my face, despite my manhood hanging right on level in front of her. As I stood next to her bed, she did her damnest not to betray her lust. She looked at me as if me showing up there naked was something quite unpredicted, as if she was the innocent prey and I the hungry predator.She couldn't fool me.
I fell on top of the bed beside her, grabbed her by her wrists and pinned her down under me. She didn't resist my hungry kisses. She closed her eyes and quivered and moaned quietly. Her entire body felt so soft, the flesh of her thighs like hot velvet against my crotch.
Like an arrow of the compass, my cock was stretching itself towards the sweet nest between her legs. My heart was racing. I was simply mad with desire, uncertain whether to kiss or to bite.
"But let's try be quiet, ok?" she whispered breathlessly.
I would've wanted to tear off her clothes, enjoy the entirety of her full woman's body, but the danger was too great. God, the danger was already unbearable but also exciting.
Instead of taking off her underwear, I merely moved the fabric on the side, and thrust my cock inside her. A voiceless gasp formed on her lips, as if I had impaled her on a spear. Despite the shock there was no horror. Her eyes gleamed, her irises having turned to liquid from pleasure.
The fever inside her shot through my body like an electric wave. My fingers dug into the mattress, my hips rhythmically beating against hers, my cock harvesting her honey. Her arms having escaped my constraint, they were running over my body, the fingers scratching my back and aiding me in finding the right rhythm.
Her face was pained from the ecstatic feeling her body was burning in. There was a part of me that really wanted that orgasmic moan to escape her lips and to give us away. Why? Perhaps because then I could no longer be her dirty secret. She would be bound to me in shame.
As the orgasm ebbed over her, I had to place my hand on her little mouth. Her moans were violent, the type that get the neighbours to call the cops. I prayed that Mom's Christmas music would dampen the noise out.
She looked so fragile whenever she had an orgasm. Her eyes always had this miraculous wonder in them, as if she'd discovered Santa Claus to be real after all. This expression of hers was often the last nail on my coffin, and this time was no different. The climax made me collapse on top of her, breathless. I wondered now if my body was still wet from the shower or if it was all just perspiration.
She kissed me sweetly on my mouth.
"Love you," she whispered with a thankful smile.
"Love you too," I replied.
We got dressed and entered the living room one after another. Pops was reading the newspaper while Mom was already busy preparing the Turkey. It seemed as if our playtime in bed had gone past unobserved.
Playfully she ran to her father and gave him a peck on the cheek. The places those lips had been to, I thought to myself.
"How was your nap, sweetie?" Mom asked her.
"Perfect. Just what I needed," she replied with a sincere smile.
My jaw almost dropped to the floor. She was an astonishingly good liar. How could I have not discovered this earlier? Had she planned it all out? Had she waited for me in the bedroom in order to have sex with me? Maybe she had more cunning that I had ever given her credit for.
The suggestion that she may have played me hundreds of times before unsettled me. Some of her behaviour was unquestionably suspicious, especially her habit of not allowing me to visit her new home in Vancouver.
I tried not to think about it too much. I didn't want to end up moping on Christmas.
"May I help you with supper?" Ellen offered to Mom, who was in the middle of preparing a stuffing for the turkey. By the looks of groceries laid across the kitchen island, there was plenty to do.
"Thank you! There are some vegetables in that bag that need to be cut." Pops looked at me lazily.
"Well, if they're going to be occupied, how about you and I go pick up a tree?" he suggested unenthusiastically. He wasn't exactly an active man but even I knew that he wouldn't want to go through a Christmas without a tree. It was traditional for us to go buy a tree together. While I was putting on my winter coat, Mom was shouting last-minute instructions down the hall for us to get a blue spruce.
Sitting on the passenger seat I looked out of the window at this neighbourhood that was still quite foreign to me. I remember having checked on the map that we were in the South-western parts of Regina. Still it didn't look too different from the town I grew up in. It seems all the Canadian suburbs are inherently the same.
"I'll let you pick the tree this time," Pops told me. "Your mom thought the one we got last year was too skinny."
"Think there are any decent ones left?"
He chuckled. "Think they put up all their best merchandise a week before Christmas?" he asked glancing at me.
"I suppose not," I shrugged.
"So," he went on awkwardly, "how's my baby girl doing in the big city?"
It seemed odd of him to ask. I looked at him uneasily.
"Alright, I suppose," I said slowly, "But I'm sure she could tell you a lot more than I could."
"But she wouldn't," he muttered gravely. Suddenly he looked exhausted. The worry was weighing his entire being down, aging him by ten years.
You rarely saw him this solemn. Ever since my childhood he had always seemed to put an extra effort to smile a lot, perhaps just to show me that he was there for me too. He was an easy-going man. But now it was obvious that something was troubling him.
"What is it then?" I asked, wondering if he knew something I didn't.
"It's just... I don't know," he tried, carefully trying to consider how to put it all into words. "She never talks about any issues that she might have. At least in high school she was living with your Aunt Karen and could open up to her if needed to but... Now she's out there by herself. And what's worse, she's all grown up now!"
I listened to him quietly, realizing I had had the same thoughts echo through my head numerous times. I didn't quite know how to console him.
"The only insight we get in her life is in the form of some silly Facebook pictures," he complained.
"She definitely likes her privacy," I admitted.
"So, she doesn't talk to you either?"
"Not really. Her friends seemed quite nice when I visited her. Outwardly it doesn't look like there's anything wrong."
"At least you are there," he sighed. "If there was any trouble she should get into, at least there's someone she can go to."
I considered it. Last February already felt like a lifetime ago but I could still remember Ellen's cold, blunt words, asking me to come pick her up from a party gone wrong. The worry that I had felt back then, I wished Pops would never have to suffer it.
"She knows I'm there for her." I forced the words out of my mouth. It felt like a half-truth. I would always have Ellen's back. But with all the secrets she seemed to be keeping from me, her opening up to me, her brother and lover, seemed unlikely.
"That's good. That's all I ask."
We drove slowly around the icy streets of Regina, spotting signs advertising for Christmas trees. We saw many dealers selling trees by the street, some having even put up garage sale styled stands in front of their homes, but many of them didn't have the much-coveted blue spruces. I ended up checking Google for any large retailers in the area.
With some help from the internet, we ended up driving to the completely other side of town, not that I could tell a difference. However, on a school parking lot, there was big market set up for Christmas trees. There must've been at least a hundred or two to choose from.
"This looks promising."
They did have all kinds of trees. To our surprise they even had a few plastic ones for sell. Many types of buyers were comparing the trees, inquiring the sales men for prices, haggling. Some were green, some were silvery blue. Broad and short or tall and skinny. "What do you think about this one?" I asked Pops as we stopped in front of a majestic blue spruce. It was perfectly symmetrical.
He inspected the tree, measuring it with his mind's eye.
"Might be a tad too tall," he said, snorting. It was beginning to snow again, the flakes slowly falling off the sky. His nose was red from the cold. "Not sure we wouldn't have to trim it from the top. And it might look a bit stubby if we do."
I nodded in agreement. No point in getting a tree that's too big. The next one we turned down for being too small. There was a beautiful white spruce that Pops was absolutely enamoured with, perhaps because of the lower price tag.
"We could just tell your Mom there were no blue ones left," he suggested innocently. Perhaps skilful lying ran in the family. But in the end, we both knew he was only joshing. He adored Mom and wasn't too stingy in issues relating to her happiness. As a divorce child, it was something I admired and respected.
But there was a blue spruce, more handsome than the one we'd looked at earlier. It was slightly shorter, each of its branches reaching wide with a bountiful wing of needles. It wasn't quite as symmetrical, but Pops argued that we could have that side of it facing against a corner. He pulled one of the branches lightly and nodded approvingly.
"I think this is the one."
"Yeah I like it," I mused, "It has character."
Pops chuckled and gestured the salesman to come hither. Like all customers, Pops tried to haggle, with awful results. The salesman shook his head, saying he would find a customer to pay the full price if Pops wouldn't do it.
"It's 5 pm on a Christmas Eve, how many of these trees do you still expect to sell?" I broke in.
The salesman shrugged.
"$80 is our last offer," I said bluntly. "Otherwise we will go elsewhere."
The man looked at me thoughtfully. I could almost hear the gears turning inside his head.
"Fine," he said finally. "But you will come buy from me again next year."
"If the price is right."
The man broke into a laughter.
"With me you pay for quality. And I have a memory for faces. Ask anyone here, they will tell you I make good deals," he snickered.
He seemed like a good-spirited businessman, although a bit cunning. Pops was more than happy with the freshness of the tree, so we happily agreed to see him again next year.
As we were packing the tree in the back of car, Pops congratulated me: "Well done, over there."
I shrugged, trying to appear modest. But the wide grin on my face made us both burst out laughing.
The radio played Christmas songs on our drive back home. It was like there was a ban on non-seasonal pop songs. Some of the songs I recognized, others sounded like they came from some forgotten era that the DJ had rediscovered. It made me fantasize about the evening: the delicious food that Mom had spent hours preparing, the boardgames that Ellen insisted on, us all gathered around the TV to watch Die Hard as was the tradition.
"One more thing about Ellie," Pops said, shaking me out of my daydream. He was trying to sound casual. "She, eh, seeing someone?"
This caught me off guard. "Oh."
"Just she seems changed," he explained. "A father knows, you know? You see her humming to herself in a way she hasn't before. She seems more content. I thought there might be some chap in her life."
"I..." stammering, "I... couldn't say. Perhaps." Perhaps I should take a lesson or two on lying from Ellen.
"I just hope he is a good lad," he said. "Someone who wouldn't break my baby girl's heart. Someone who cares for her just like you and I do."
I simply stared blankly at the road ahead of us, uncertain what to say.
"She's hiding him from us for some reason. But as long as he makes her happy, she has no reason to."
I wondered if he would've still been saying this had he known that I was the young man, her brother. Yet there was this odd sincerity in his voice, that made me wonder if he was telling me this for a reason. I looked at Pops, trying to decipher from his face whether he knew more than he let on.
He parked in the newly cleared parking spot where a fresh layer of snow had already landed. As we carried in our purchase, Mom exclaimed in delight: "Oh, you did get a blue spruce!"
"Wait until she comes out of her wrappers." Pops handed me the scissors. "Will you do the honours?"
With one neat snip I freed the spruce out of its plastic constraints, the fat leaves bouncing from gravity.
"Gosh, isn't it pretty," Ellen whispered, her white slim fingers lightly caressing the shiny needles.
"I'm sure you can make it prettier," I told her, offering the box with Christmas decorations. "Why don't I take over in the kitchen? You are the artist in the family anyway."
"I will need help with the top branches though," she replied cheekily. "The dinner is slowly preparing itself in the oven anyway."
"Is that so?"
"Only dishes left to be done," Mom said. "But we have a dishwashing machine for a reason. Anyone want a glass of Merlot?"
We all did, safe for Pops who would rather take a can of Bud.
The evening played out much like I had daydreamed or reminisced earlier that day. Die Hard was on, as it was every year, except that one time when it was Die Hard 2 instead. There was some pie left from yesterday, but none of it was allowed before dinner so we tried spoiling our appetites with chocolate pralines instead.
Then it was time for games. Life, Candyland, Trivial Pursuit, we had them all. But instead Ellen picked the achingly long-taking Monopoly as the pre-dinner game. I was actually winning for once, for I knew where to invest, and with a bit of luck I was already collecting high rent. However, Mom had to interrupt the game so that the table could be cleared for dinner. Perhaps the turkey was a little drier than ideal, but it was nothing that gravy wouldn't fix. We laughed and spoke of old friends and relatives. Mom's Michael Bublé album was played to death.
Throughout the evening, each of us would find a moment to steal off to our rooms and bring out our presents under the tree. Mom was the first to sneak out while we were occupied over the game of Monopoly. Then Pops as we were setting up the table. Then me and, finally, Ellen. It's rather humorous how we would all try act inconspicuous and how everyone pretended to turn the blind eye. With curiosity, I watched Ellen place her set of prettily wrapped presents under the tree. Which one was mine, I wondered. And would it be something silly, like an ugly t-shirt, or something that reflected her feelings about me as romantic interest?
And would she find my present for her too cheesy and on the nose? Not long after dinner, Pops announced that he'd be ready to call it a night. He kissed goodnight to Mom, who took another glass of Merlot and positioned herself in an easy chair with a suspense novel.
Ellen and I took our places on the sofa to watch some TV. Ellen was in charge of the remote, switching through channels in a rapid speed. Many of the films and shows that aired we had seen many times before. Finally, her trigger finger relaxed. There was a dance performance on the screen. The stage was dark and a young girl in a light blue dress was dancing in bold fanciful moves. It looked like a ballet.
"Didn't know you're into..."
She shushed me quiet and turned up the volume, her eyes glued onto the screen. Another character appeared, the camera zooming in on him. It was a young man with an obvious fake moustache and a red tailored suit and a top hat. He hands the girl a present which she hastily unwraps in excitement.
"It's The Nutcracker," I realized as I saw her open up the box and draw out a tiny wooden doll.
The young child turned into a young woman as the mice attacked.
I was so enchanted by the performance on the screen that I didn't even notice that Ellen had crawled under my arm, her head resting against my chest.
"Isn't she beautiful?" she mused mesmerized.
Perhaps a little too skinny to my liking, I thought. Her ash blonde curls bounced with each pirouette like mechanical strings. Everything about her functioned with precision. "I suppose she is," I admitted, nonetheless.
"She moves so... fluidly. It's looks like it's easy for her to be flawless."
I chuckled. Perhaps the wine was too much for poor Ellen.
"Easy? Years of training and discipline are the result of that flawless performance."
"Stop mocking me," she groaned.
We watched the entire ballet, the whole 100 minutes that were left of it. I expected Ellen to fall asleep, but she had her huge eyes marvelling at the colours of the fantastic dresses flowing across the screen.
"That was pretty awesome," she sighed, as the dancers returned on stage to bow to the unseen audience. Roses were being thrown at their feet.
We were alone. Mother had bid us goodnight almost an hour ago. The last log of wood had turned into charcoal, the miniscule red sparks shining defiantly on the blackened surface like stars.
"How late is it?" Ellen wondered, sitting up from her nest.
"Sometime past midnight. It's now officially Christmas," I smirked. "Merry Christmas, Ellie."
A dimple formed on her cheek as she quirkily smiled back.
"Merry Christmas, Andy," she wish me and placed her hand on my knee.
She squeezed, and a part of me wondered if we should kiss. It was Christmas after all, and no one was around to see. I could feel the awkward silence growing between us. Ellen stared blankly into the distance.
But then a cunning grin showed up on her lips.
"I have a naughty idea," she whispered, as if it was going to be something truly dirty.
"You do?" I asked curiously.
"What if we," she said carefully, as if what she was about to say might upset me, "take an early start with the presents."
I considered her idea and quickly decided that it was brilliant. What better way to get an honest reaction without the presence of parents muddying the waters?
"I say, why not!"
"Alright, where's your present?"
I ran to the tree, where a tiny red present with simplistic golden detailing and a green ribbon was hidden deep under the branches. For some reason I had felt a little embarrassed about it, perhaps knowing it looked suspiciously like a jewellery box, for that's exactly what it contained. It was awkwardly obvious I hadn't done the wrapping myself but had allowed the salesgirl to do the job for me. "Is it for someone special?" she had asked knowingly. I had answered with a stiff nod. "Yes. For my sister."
Ellen didn't comment on the wrapping. She was aware I had no skill or patience for folding. There was a reason why I had chosen a rack to store my clothes on in my apartment.
"Somehow I'm quite nervous," she giggled.
It can't bite," I sighed, hoping she would hurry up. I was feeling uneasy. If only she would like it.
When the burgundy red box was finally visible, she seemed genuinely surprised. Whatever suspicions she had, now she knew that there must be something valuable inside.
"You've wasted money on me," she whispered.
"I never waste money on you. Just open it. I can't bear it anymore," I chuckled nervously. Biting her lip, she finally opened the lid. Immediately a hand flew on her face. Her eyes began to water.
"Ellie?" I asked a little worried.
Her finger touched the gold resting on a bed of white silk.
"I hope you like it," I said, a little concerned. "I thought it would be just your style."
She waved a hand in front of her eyes, desperately trying to blow-dry the tears that were building up on her dark lashes like morning dew.
"Hey, it's just a piece of jewellery..."
A smile broke on her face.
"It's... wonderful. I feel I should say something more original but it's wonderful," she laughed in between the tears.
I got her face between my hands and kissed her. Through her lips I could feel the tension that had been building up inside her being released. As I let go of her, a sigh escaped her lips and her big eyes rested on my face. I wiped the trails her tears had left on her round cheeks. She sniffed."I love you," I told her.
"I love you too," she replied. "I love the present too. Would you please put it on me?"
Out of the box, I took the long thin chain with an old-fashioned oval-shaped golden medallion. The surface of it was flawlessly polished, mirroring the faint dimming light in the fire place. When I placed it around her neck, the medallion fell just slightly above her breasts.
"It's the perfect length too!" she exclaimed.
"Yeah I know." 19 years of growing up together teaches you some.
"Is there something inside?" she pondered as she examined it, curiously.
"Not yet," I admitted with a sigh. "I thought you should decide what goes in there and it can be your secret to keep if you so choose."
She smirked and looked at me elfishly.
"I love it. Thank you so much."
Her lips merely brushed mine before they were gone.
"Alright. Your turn?" I asked her, eyeing the presents under the tree curiously.
"Yes!" she grinned, "I'll meet you in our room in five."
I lowered my brows quizzically and watched her waltz out of the room, leaving me alone in the light of the Christmas tree. I marvelled at how suspicious it was that she had not placed my gift under the tree. Perhaps it was something romantic and sweet that she thought would be too risky to hand me in front of our parents. But why the five-minute wait? Hadn't she wrapped it? Either way, I was a little excited.
As soon as the time was up, I quietly sneaked into our bedroom. I entered cautiously, like to a surprise party I was already aware of. Then I beheld the most wonderful sight in front of me.
I first thought she had lit several tiny candles around the room, especially since the light kindled like a flame. But in fact, they were all electric, so Ellen had spread them everywhere in the room: the floor, the window sills, the shelves. They alone illuminated the dark room, in the middle of which stood Ellen.
She was wearing a bright red lacey lingerie, with a huge bow under her breast. The top half was a bombshell bra, tightly pressing her breasts together. Beneath the bow the skirt was shimmery and translucent. Its short hem ended halfway down the delicious thigh. The see-through fabric revealed her belly button and the red undies. Her weight was resting on one foot in an attempt to make her legs in the white garter and stockings look a little slimmer. It was adorable how she tried to pose.
"Merry Christmas, Andy," she said in an uncharacteristically deep voice, throwing her hair over her shoulder.
She was trying too hard. Yet I could do nothing but smile excitedly.
"You're the present?" I asked incredulously walking up to her and taking her sweet face between my hands.
"Some of us can't afford fancy Christmas presents," she sighed mockingly. "But it's the thought that counts, right?"
"Absolutely."
I pulled her face to my lips and begun teasing the fat lower lip of hers with my teeth. The whole sight of her excited me immensely. I wanted to devour her, violently rip off the lingerie and revel in what was beneath. Had Ellen not recently bought it out of her own pocket, I probably would have.
One of my hands grabbed hold of her thick brown hair, pulling it lightly. The other one was feeling the flesh of her round ass, discovering to my joy that it was a thong she was wearing. My tongue was slipping past her lips into her fiery mouth.
We fell on top of her bed, the very same bed on which we had made love only 12 hours earlier. From her mouth I had moved on to her neck and shoulders, feasting on the delicate skin. The straps of her lingerie had already moved on to the side. She was whimpering from my rather rough handling of her, but they were whimpers of pleasure. Her breathing was heavy, and I could feel her heart beating rapidly through her skin. I pulled one of her breasts out of the constraints of her outfit, including a juicy pink nipple. I sucked it until you could use it to cut diamond.
She was desperately holding back her moans. My own body was aching to violate her image of innocence that I knew to be façade. I knew what kind of a long-clawed vixen she would turn into as soon as the sun had set. She may have looked like a girl next door, but she was more sexual than I have ever imagined a woman to be. She revelled in her sexuality shamelessly.
But to discover the beast, one had to peel off the disguise. She placed her hand on my head and pushed me to go lower on her body. She was guiding me to where she wanted my lips the most.
They were pretty bottoms, the ones she was wearing, blood red floral lace. I discarded them, revealing the almost as red valley opening between her legs, the plump expectant lips neatly shaven bare. My thumb rolled between the folds like dipping a toe into water before diving in. Ellie gave out a desperate sigh.
A tiny hard rose bud stood defiantly on the northern end of the soft abyss. I gave it a naughty tickle, which triggered a violent response from Ellie, her body jumping as if I'd just touched her with a taser. Milky white liquid was bubbling up from her fountain. My tongue explored her depths, teasing a moan after another from her pretty lips. The heat and moisture of her body only encouraged me further.
She always fought back, as if relinquishing for an orgasm was beneath her. Perhaps she hated the power I had over her body. But I never did it to exercise my power over her. Quite the opposite.
I always work on her methodically, working from outside to inside, building up the anticipation. A few kisses on her clitoris is all it takes in the end.
Her body always betrayed her pride. I didn't have to have my face buried between her legs for long.
"Oh, oh, oh," she complained as if I had set her vagina on fire.
Her entire body was trembling. I held on to her hips so that she couldn't wriggle away from my final touches.
When the wave of pleasure had rolled over her, I lifted my face from the crotch to look at the bliss on this beautiful girl's face. Her eyes shone in the dim-light of the electric candles and a mild smile rested on her lips.
I wiped the residue off my lips with back of my hand and returned to lovingly kissing her neck. As much as my cock was aching to enter her, I knew she needed a minute. My fingers pinched the nipples on her wonderfully round breasts, pulling them gently.
"Would you like to fuck them?" she asked me sleepily.
"Hmm?"
"My breasts," she sighed. "Do you want to have your cock between them?"
My cock stirred in my pants agreeably.
"Would you like that?" I wondered hesitantly.
"One way to find out," she smirked as she started to rip off my sweatshirt.
The idea of fucking her breasts had honestly never even flashed through my mind, which was a miracle consinderoing how much I had always enjoyed playing with her breasts. They were wonderfully large and round, my fingers barely covering the whole surface of each. Her tiny nipples only accentuated their size. Ellen had that naïve charm of a young girl, but her bust was indisputably that of a woman.
Before I knew it, I was naked, and I had the magnificent view of Ellen's beautiful upper body lying between my legs. Her small hands were pushing her massive jugs together, the delicate white flesh squeezed between her fingers.
"Wait," she whispered as I was still admiring the view of my naked manhood in such proximity of a woman whose body I lusted for.
She let go off her breasts and propped herself up on her elbows. She snatched my cock in one of her hands and, before I had a chance to protest, she had already placed it between her lips.
She dipped my cock in her mouth as far as it would go and licked along the shaft to make it glisten wet from her spit. She looked up at me teasingly in the eye and the sight of it almost made me go mad.
"Alright," she murmured, "Now we are ready."
She wrapped her lovely breasts around my dick, softly squeezing them with her hands. Slowly, I moved my hips back and forth. I watched my cock disappear and reappear from the canyon she had created. I was already excreting cum. Her cleavage was getting deliciously wet from the combination of our liquids.
It wasn't so much the feel of it that was arousing, although admittedly it was nice rubbing my cock against the soft warm bosom of hers. It was the sight of having my sex so close to her face. There was something powerful about having her in such a vulnerable position where I could stain her face if I chose to. It made me impossibly hard. But I loved this girl. And the fact that Ellen would agree to this showed her love for me as well. After all, she was getting nothing out of this position. She was doing this purely for my sexual gratification.
I pulled out and smiled at her lovingly. She looked a little confused, so I gave her a long reassuring kiss.
"As much as I like it," I explained to her quietly, "I like it too much having you quiver under me."
She grinned delightedly at my suggestion. She bit her lip.
"Hmmm, but what if I'm not under you?"
"What's on your mind?"
"What about a bit of doggy instead?" she suggested innocently.
I chuckled quietly.
"Sure."
She got on all fours and raised her glorious ass in front of me. The tight straps of the garter bit into her round ass-cheeks. I gave her behind a soft smack.
"Ow!" she squealed excitedly. The white skin flushed where my palm had landed. With a cheeky smile on her face, she turned to look at me as I searched for the soft opening, the tip of my member glistening from anticipation.
She was still wonderfully wet. I could feel her juices being pressed out of her depths with my invasion. Our previous playing had already exhilarated me to the point that my member was at its prime length. With my hands placed on her waist I pounded into her, her white round ass jiggling from the continuous slapping of my hips.
It was her favourite position. I wondered if it was because of the fragile position she was placed in, where I could grab her hair and smack her if I wished to, while she would have no means of stopping me. Or if it made her feel slutty having her breasts slapping against one another; maybe it felt naughty being in position where I didn't have to see her face and could just penetrate her like an animal. Or maybe it was the sound of it, the clapping of her breasts, the clapping of my balls. Or maybe it just felt that good. At least to me it felt like this position allowed me to penetrate deeper into her. The moans I got out of her seemed to support this theory. And the view was magnificent, for me at least. Who would've known garters could make her ass look this marvellous.
I knew she was fighting back her moans, but she was doing so poorly. A small gasp or moan escaped her lips with each thrust. The house was quiet and there was nothing to mask the sounds of our lovemaking. I knew now that the parents' bedroom was on the other side of the house, but the walls didn't appear to be particularly thick.
Somehow the thrill of the moment made me stop caring. If they had heard, it would be too late anyhow.
"Say my name," I commanded Ellen like a mad man.
"Andy..." she murmured.
"Louder."
"Andy!" she moaned piteously. She was as enslaved by desire as I was. "Fuck me," she muttered.
"Fuck yes, Ellie. You like this?"
"Uh-huh."
"You like me riding you like this?"
"Oh, yes!"
"We will come together, you hear me?" I grunted, my cock rapidly beating into her pussy. My body covered in sweat and her waist felt slippery in my hands. I clawed into her.
"Y-yes."
"Fuck, I love you so much," I said despairingly.
"I love you."
I don't know what it was about her voice when she said that, but for once I felt like she truly meant it. I knew we were doomed. I knew that someday she might choose to marry, have her white wedding, children. And as much as it agonized me that she would never be allowed to have that with me, I wanted her to be happy. But until then...
"Come for me, Ellie," I whispered to her breathlessly. My seed was already pumping up my aching dick. "Come for me."
"Andy," she whimpered as her body shook between my hands from the power of her orgasm.
- - -
My strong grasp on her hips had left red fingerprints on her soft skin. As she lay there catching her breath, her vulva painted white with cum, I gave sorry kisses to where I felt I had in my passion hurt her.
"I'm sorry," I muttered sadly.
"It didn't hurt," Ellen said light-heartedly.
"Even so."
She pulled me up on top of her for a kiss. They were the kind of sweet kisses that made your heart flutter in their sincerity. Unless you were a bystander, of course. In that case they would make you gag, even if you didn't know that we were siblings.
"Does this mean I'll be allowed to visit you at your place?" I asked in between kisses.
She looked surprised that I would even bring it up.
"What? No," she responded with an incredulous laugh as if I had suggested something outrageous.
"What? What the hell is up with me not being allowed to visit you?" I asked a little angrily. "You can't just hide me from your friends."
She sighed.
"Fine. You can visit. But keep away from Lindsay."
"Lindsay?"
"Yeah, Lindsay. You know, the gorgeous blonde I live with."
I chuckled. "Why would I care about some Lindsay?"
"Well, she cares about you."
I looked at her dubiously.
"You are not telling me," I said quietly, "that you've been keeping me out of your flat just because some silly college friend of yours likes me."
Ellen shrugged.
At that point I could no longer hold back the laughter. I rolled on my back with my face buried in my hands. How silly jealousy could make a person.
"Oh, shut up," she told me angrily, clearly offended.
"And I thought," I managed to say between chuckles, "that you're ashamed of me."
"No, I'm ashamed of Lindsay turning into a proper slut at the mere suggestion of you visiting. Honestly, it's disgusting," she complained with contempt in her voice.
It only made me laugh some more. Ellen just silently pouted next to me on the bed.
Finally, when I had calmed down some, I took her face in my hands and kissed her until she became responsive again. How silly she could be. But how I loved even that about her.
She still looked a little offended when our lips parted. I smiled at her unhappy, lovely face.
"I only have eyes for you," I told her with a sigh. And I knew she would be the end of me.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone