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Merry Christmas or Happy Hannakah to all of you! I hope that your holidays are merry and spent with the ones you love. All the best in 2009 — may it be a wonderful year for you. To all you Scrooges (like me) out there: here’s a little something that I hope puts you in a festive mood. Best wishes!

Epiphany “Bah, Humbug” 65

I was never especially close with my Aunt Julia. She married a man named Stephen when I was fourteen and they soon left Seymour Heights, New Hampshire for New Jersey, leaving us and everything behind. After that, communication from her was sporadic. She would call my mother (her older sister) occasionally and send cards on birthdays and Christmas, but that was about it. Once the information superhighway expanded into Seymour Heights we began receiving emails and the occasional photo from my aunt quite often. But, like I said, Aunt Julia and I still weren’t particularly close. All that changed last Christmas.

My aunt’s marriage to Stephen lasted almost five years, then they divorced. With no children and few assets to argue over, the process was as fast and simple as one could hope for in that sort of situation. Aunt Julia got the small two-story house they owned and remained in Jersey City, eventually going to work for a legal firm there. From what I gathered from my mother’s recounts of her emails, my aunt seemed happy being single once more and was making a comfortable living. Mom’s frequent pleas for her younger sister to visit were always ignored — until a few weeks before Christmas last year.

“Julia’s coming to visit us!” Mom twirled around on the chair at her computer desk, beaming. She hadn’t sounded so happy in a long time. “She’s flying in on the twentieth and staying till the New Year,” she elaborated.

I looked up from the couch where I had been sitting, watching television and smiled. I think I was more happy for Mom than I was at the prospect of seeing my aunt after several years. “That’s great,” I said, still not quite as happy as my mother. “It will be good to see her again. It’s been ages.”

“It sure will be. I can’t wait to see her,” Mom replied, then turned her attention back to the computer to reply to her sister’s email.

There were almost two weeks to get through before my aunt’s arrival and Mom grew more excited as each day passed. No child awaiting the arrival of Santa could have been as eager and impatient as she was during that time. I was far from indifferent, but nowhere near as overjoyed as her. Had I been able to peer into the future, or known my aunt better than I did then, I would have been elated.

I was at home the day that Aunt Julia arrived. Seymour Heights Community College was on winter break until early January and I was enjoying the respite from my classes. Dad was at work that afternoon. He owns a small pharmacy downtown and business is brisk this time of year, so he could not afford to take any time off unless it was absolutely necessary.

Mom and I heard Aunt Julia’s excited yelp in the yard even before we saw her, or realized the cab had dropped her off from the airport. “Merry Christmas!” she bellowed, dashing up the back steps. There was a light dusting of snow from the flurries that morning and it’s a wonder she didn’t slip as she raced up to the door, carrying two large suitcases and one shoulder bag.

“Merry Christmas, Jules! It’s so good to see you!” Mom’s blue eyes glistened with happy tears as she embraced her younger sister.

“Likewise, Michie,” Aunt Julia replied, dropping her luggage and clutching my mother tight. My aunt is the only person alive who could get away with calling Mom ‘Michie’ instead of ‘Michelle’; even Dad is forbidden to. It was a pet name she had given her during childhood and decades later it still stuck.

Aunt Julia took a step back from Mom, holding her by her waist and smiled. She ran her eyes up and down my mother and gave her an approving nod. “You’re looking good, big sister. Not bad for — what is it — fifty?” She grinned, anticipating Mom’s reply.

“Shut up. That’s a few years away,” Mom chided, giving her sister’s arm a playful swat.

“Well, forty-five or fifty, I’ll always be younger than you,” my aunt boasted. “Thankfully fifty is over ten years away for me.”

“Barely,” my mother reminded her with a sly grin.

I was leaning against the kitchen counter, smiling, as I watched and listened to the interaction between my mother and aunt. Minutes earlier, up until Aunt Julia’s boisterous arrival anyway, I had been filled with pleasant anticipation over her visit. Now, as my eyes moved over her, this was replaced by another, stronger emotion: arousal.

Occasionally when Mom received an email from my aunt I would glance over her shoulder to read it at her encouragement. This was especially so when the email contained a recent photo of Aunt Julia, or one of her cats or dog. Although the photos were simple snapshots and sometimes poorly framed, I could tell from those digitized images that Mom’s sister was a very attractive woman. Her angular jaw and high cheekbones were framed by curly auburn hair. Sometimes it seemed to Casibom shimmer, just like her hazel eyes, which seemed to have a playful glint to them.

I especially remember one photo in particular that my aunt had included in an email. It was from a trip to Bermuda she had taken soon after her divorce. She was sitting in a metal folding chair on a beach, a colourful drink in her slender hand, and she was wearing a yellow bikini which barely hid her charms. As I stood behind my mother, peering over her shoulder at her computer monitor, I felt my cock begin to stiffen to a full erection. I was thankful that I was standing behind Mom so she could not see the evidence of my growing arousal in the front of my jeans.

That photo, especially my aunt’s firm, round breasts overflowing from the small, yellow triangles barely covering them, remained burned in my mind from that moment on. It returned to my mind’s eye night after night as I lay in bed, stroking my hard cock. I would imagine myself running my hands up my aunt’s tanned legs and flat stomach to cup those sizable mounds in my hands and tease her stiff nipples. This illicit fantasy fueled my libido during many lonely nights. Sometimes when my parents were out I would sit at the computer in the living room, masturbating as I stared at the image of my aunt wearing her skimpy lemon-coloured bikini. Now that she was standing less than two yards away from me in our kitchen I could hardly believe it, or how much more sexy she actually was in person.

“My god, Colin. Look at you — you’re all grown up!” Aunt Julia’s voice was soft and full of amazement. Her full lips curled into a smile and the red lipstick on them glistened. She folded her arms, causing her breasts to form into noticeable orbs. They filled out her purple knit cardigan so well I thought that the buttons might pop open. “The last time I saw you seems like a lifetime ago. You certainly don’t look nineteen,” she said, still looking me over.

“That’s because I’m twenty,” I corrected with a faint smile. My cock was beginning to throb and I wanted to move my eyes from the swell of my aunt’s bosom, down over the tight black skirt covering her round hips, then back up again. Somehow I managed to restrain myself and remain focused on her lovely face.

Aunt Julia stepped over to me. She had kicked off her snow-covered boots at the door and her stockinged feet padded across the floor as she reached out towards me. “Well, I hope you’re not too old to let your aunt give her favourite nephew a hug,” she said.

I smiled, considering that I was her only nephew. Before I could reply I felt her arms around me, her soft hands gliding up my back. My muscles tensed. Then those perfect breasts, those firm mounds, were pressed to my chest. My heart was pounding so fiercely that I thought she might feel it as she pressed herself to me. I could feel a patina of sweat on my palms and my cock thickened some more. Somewhat tentatively, I slipped my arms around my aunt’s narrow waist and moved my hands up her svelte back. Her sweater was soft and fuzzy. It moved upwards a bit as my hand roamed her back. Beneath it, I felt the straps of her bra. I pulled her tighter to me, nearly overwhelmed by the sensations of her luscious body on mine. The mingled scents of her perfume and hair conditioner filled my nostrils, feeding my libido. When she pressed her lips to my right cheek to plant a kiss I shuddered somewhat and felt light-headed.

“It’s good to see you, Aunt Julia,” I croaked, my throat dry from lust.

“You too,” she said, her hot breath caressing my neck.

My aunt stepped back, still clutching my forearms as she smiled. Her shimmering eyes were two slits as they danced down my torso. When they met the front of my jeans her expression seemed to turn into a sneer, then I realized it was an approving grin. It lasted an instant, then was gone.

“So, where’s Richard?” Aunt Julia turned her head back towards Mom at the sink and ran her hands down my arms, briefly stroking the backs of my hands.

“Still at the drug store,” Mom said.

“Doesn’t that man ever take a day off? Will he at least be having turkey with us on Christmas Day?” My aunt moved away from me and turned completely to face my mother. She crossed her arms beneath the curves of her breasts once more, pushing them up into firm hills.

Mom laughed. “Yes, Jules, he will. But he can’t afford to take time off during the holidays,” she explained.

Aunt Julia nodded and the warm smile returned to her face. She gave a chuckle that was rather sexy. “Are you putting me in the spare room next to Colin’s?” she asked.

Mom nodded. “Yes. I hope that will be fine,” she said.

“More than fine,” Aunt Julia assured her.

While Mom lead her sister upstairs to the room where she would be staying I took advantage of the solitude to try to get my runaway libido under control. My cheeks were aflame and my erection was straining the zipper of my jeans. I went to the back door and opened it. I drew in deep breaths of the chilly December air as it cooled my face. I stood there for a few minutes, recalling Casibom Giriş the sensual feel of my aunt’s body on mine and how her hands stroked my back as we embraced. I knew that I was going to be in a near constant state of arousal while she was visiting us. That seemed like a bittersweet prospect to me.

During supper that evening I did not have to make much effort at conversation; Mom and my aunt took care of that. I silently ate, taking the occasional sideways glance at my aunt and noticing how her eyes moved my way several times. It was both exhilarating and unnerving. The image of Aunt Julia on the beach, her magnificent body covered by three tiny triangles of cloth, was now replaced by the lingering sensations of her pressed to me earlier in the kitchen. My rigid cock demanded attention and my boiling lust craved release. It was very distracting and I did not feel much like eating. Mom has always been a wonderful cook, but each bite of food seemed like cardboard in my dry mouth that evening.

The remainder of that night was spent in the living room talking and watching television — me doing more of the latter. I was lost in lewd thoughts about my aunt. She had sat down beside me on the sofa after she and Mom returned from loading the dishwasher and chatting a bit. Although she was nearly a full yard to my left it still seemed like her body heat radiated on me. Or maybe it was the combination of her seductiveness and charm. Either way, I was in torment. A few hours later, when my father yawned and stretched, then announced that he was tired and going to bed, I was glad. Mom would follow him and I could do the same soon after. When my aunt spoke up I felt uneasy.

“Well, I’m not tired like you old folks,” she said. “I’m good for another few hours. You’ll keep me company, won’t you, Colin?” Aunt Julia turned to me, her pretty, oak-coloured eyes almost pleading.

“Ah… yeah, sure,” I grunted, not wanting to be rude or seem flustered.

Mom got up from the beige loveseat where she and Dad were sitting and approached the sofa. When she leaned down to give my aunt a hug she stood up and put her arms around Mom’s waist. She kissed her cheek, then looked into her eyes as they exchanged smiles.

“Nighty night, baby sis,” Mom said, sounding like a teenager once again.

“Nighty night, big sis,” my aunt replied. Then a wide, devilish grin crept over her face. She reached up and gave my mother’s left breast a firm squeeze through her blouse. The mass of her breast nearly eclipsed Aunt Julia’s slim palm as she pushed it upwards into a large mound.

Mom squealed and lurched away from her sister’s grasp, then her laughter rang out. When her eyes met mine, which were now locked on the contours of her chest filling out her jade-coloured blouse, she began to blush. Her nipple had reacted to Aunt Julia’s touch and now jutted out noticeably from the cotton covering it.

“Richard, did Michie ever tell you the real reason why I always call her ‘big sister’ isn’t because she’s older, but because she’s always had bigger tits than me?” my aunt asked. She turned towards my father, who was sitting in near astonishment on the loveseat.

“Ah… no. She didn’t,” Dad answered, seeming both intrigued and uncomfortable. His eyes shifted from Mom to my aunt, then down over her cardigan.

“Well, that’s why,” she said, shooting Mom a grin. “Since Michie was born first, I was robbed. She got all the good boobie genes.” Now her laugh filled the room as she surveyed my mother’s chest.

I watched from the couch, smiling and shifting my attention between my Mom and aunt, comparing the relative sizes of their bustlines. Although I would have never in a million years said it, but despite my aunt’s comment about being robbed, she certainly had not been left-out when it came to being well-endowed up top. Far from it.

“Oh, quit playing the victim,” Mom snapped, unable to stifle a laugh. “It’s not like you were exactly deprived, Jules.” She nodded her head, gesturing down towards her sister’s chest. “Don’t you remember how Tony Gibson was always trying to sneak a peek down your top back in school?”

Aunt Julia’s face became contorted into a grimace and she gave an exaggerated shudder. “He was such a creep,” she hissed, her voice full of contempt.

“Yes, but still…” Mom replied. “And he wasn’t the only one, so quit complaining. Besides, the only reason I’m built like I am is because I had Colin.” Her eyes darted over her sister’s shoulder to me and she gave me a shy smile.

I shifted on the sofa and forced a smile Mom’s way. My eyes left hers as I admired her figure, especially how she filled out her blouse, which seemed a size too small for her. It wasn’t the first time that I had committed that illicit act — ogling my own mother. But it was certainly the first time I had done it in such a charged situation. The air in the room now seemed to have come alive with sexual energy, brought on by my aunt’s initial remark and groping of Mom. Even Dad seemed to notice it, judging from his vacant smile and pink cheeks. Images of him closing their bedroom door and dragging Mom towards their bed in a few minutes appeared in my mind.

“Maybe I should have a baby then,” Aunt Julia mused aloud. “It would be cheaper than implants.”

Mom laughed once more as she turned towards my father. He had gotten up and was standing behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders as his fingers teased her neck.

“Give it a lot of thought, Jules. In the meantime, I’m going to get my beauty sleep.” Mom gave her another quick kiss on the cheek before taking hold of Dad’s hand and leading him towards the steps.

Aunt Julia turned towards me, still smiling. I could hear the sounds of footsteps coming from upstairs and water running in the bathroom.

“It’s so good to see you guys again. I shouldn’t have put off visiting for so long,” Aunt Julia said, sounding regretful. She sat down beside me once more, leaning on her right hip and tucking her right foot under her. “I still can’t get over what a handsome young man you’ve become, Colin,” she said, brushing her hair away from her left eye.

“Thanks,” I said, swallowing hard. “Mom says I look like Dad.”

My aunt leaned back a bit, looking me over as if to consider the comment, then nodded. “Yes, you do,” she concluded after a few moments. “But you’ve got your mother’s eyes. They’re as blue as sapphires, just like hers. Mine are a muddy brown. That’s something else I always envied about Michie.”

I felt myself blush once more, thinking about the other thing, or things, she envied about Mom. I felt my eyes drifting down towards her chest and forced them back up, but not before she noticed. She laughed. Not a loud laugh like earlier though. It was more like a teasing laugh, or like when old friends share an in-joke that is many years old.

“Don’t let Michie catch you looking at me like that or she’ll chew me a new one,” Aunt Julia cautioned, still sounding amused.

“Like what? I wasn’t – “

My aunt interrupted me with a soft hissing sound from her pursed lips, then she smiled. Through my nervousness I felt the urge to kiss her soft, moist lips, but easily fought it.

“It’s okay, Colin,” she said, her voice soft and reassuring. “I didn’t say I was mad. It’s flattering for a guy your age to be checking out an old chick like me.” The corner of her mouth turned up as she stared at me.

I laughed, but only at the notion of her being old. Had someone not known her actual age they would have easily guessed her to be in her late twenties, but no more. “You’re not old, Aunt Julia,” I assured her.

“You’re sweet, honey.” My aunt leaned closer and pressed her velvety lips to my cheek, leaving traces of lipstick on my rosy skin. Then she leaned back on the sofa, still looking into my face.

“What?” I asked after a few moments, growing uncomfortable with the awkward silence and the look on my aunt’s face.

“Oh… just thinking,” she said, sounding sleepy and still gazing at me.

“About what?” I asked, although I almost feared her answer.

“About something very naughty.” She gave her head a gentle shake as though she was silently reprimanding herself, then sat up.

“Oh…” I grunted. Now I was even more horny and very curious. My mind reeled, filling with possibilities — all of them ribald and taboo. The heat returned to my cheeks and she immediately noticed.

“You’re blushing,” she teased, her gentle eyes meeting mine.

I gave her a silent nod, knowing it was futile to deny it.

Aunt Julia slid closer towards me, so her right hip was almost pressing against me. Her arm brushed mine, then I felt the side of her firm breast pressed on my bicep. I didn’t dare look down. For a moment I think my racing heart came to a halt. I swallowed, but my throat felt dry, like that beach in the photo of her wearing the yellow bikini.

“Do you like me — even though I’m the… little sister?” My aunt’s hot breath washed over my cheek and neck. She paused before speaking the last two words, then slowly breathed them out for emphasis.

“I… yeah, of course I like you,” I managed to say in an unnaturally thick voice.

“You know how I meant it,” she taunted, clearly unconvinced by the tone of my reply.

I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat. I licked my lips. “I like you. But you’re my aunt, so… so I can’t like you like you think.” I laughed self-consciously at the jumble of words that had come out of my mouth, but hoped she’d understand. She did.

My aunt inched closer and hooked her arm around mine. She held my hand in hers, which both surprised and excited me. Her hand was soft and warm, much like rest rest of her probably was, I assumed. Our shoulders were touching now, but what I was concentrating on now was how her breast was pressing against my side. It was firm and felt bigger than it had appeared earlier as it rose from her slender body to strain the fabric of her cardigan. For a moment I allowed by eyes to wander down and noticed that the top three buttons of my aunt’s cardigan were open. Now I could see her upper chest in the V-shaped opening. I followed the line of her slender collar bone down to the deep cleavage between her round breasts. Her skin looked look as smooth as crystal and as soft as angel hair. I licked my lips once more and tore my eyes away.

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