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Writer's pictureLisa X Lopez

Twelve Days in Christmas, Chapter Seven

Updated: Dec 20, 2022


December 19th: Float Decoration

Brad stood in front of the bedroom door, blocking her way in the morning.

“You’re not leaving this room until you’ve ridden my face to an orgasm,” he said, smirking.

“That’s a hell of a demand,” she said, grinning back, “Alright, but you better be very skillful with that tongue. I need to help decorate the float.”

She squeaked as he lifted her over his shoulder and deposited her back on the bed. Unnecessary, she thought, but fun. Brad lay on his back while Christmas climbed on top of him and pressed her hot pussy to his mouth. His hands covered her bottom, gripping her cheeks and pulling her down. His tongue slipped easily through the moistness of her slit, making her gasp at the pleasure of it.

“Does your little sister taste sexy?” she teased as she slowly rocked herself on his tongue.

Brad hummed into her as she used him, cupping her breast in one hand and putting her other against the wall for balance. Her legs shook as she held herself up and closed her eyes, focusing on the rhythm, letting the pleasure build. Goddamn, his tongue was fucking magic. He held her and ground it against her clit, drawing out her orgasm in a furious rush of panting ecstasy that had her quaking with the release. Even after it was over, he kept at her, and she didn’t have the will to deny him a second one.


***

In just two days, the town would hold the Christmas parade, a showy display of floats and music. While Christmas parades were a common thing, the town drew quite a crowd purely from its name. The influx of visitors would nearly double on this day alone, before it thinned in the days leading up to Christmas Eve. Christmas herself, along with the other girls taking part in the pageant, would find themselves on the floats in their dresses, a sort of preview before the pageant itself.

Other volunteers had been making headway on the floats over the last week, but the work never seemed to end. Christmas found Sasha and Leah already at work on one of the floats. Sasha was stapling a length of long tinsel down the edge of one float, which sat atop a flat trailer. Leah, meanwhile, stood on the top of the float, attaching glittering stars. To the side stood a display of nativity figurines that would be mounted on the top at the end.

“Look who decided to show up!” Sasha said, standing and popping her back.

“Sorry,” Christmas apologized, “I overslept.”

“You can help me layer this tinsel,” Sasha said, handing her a staple gun and a length of tinsel.

Across the barn, Christmas saw Marcy and her friends working on a massive, glowing monument to holiday cheer. The gigantic float was built on top of a long trailer, likely provided by Mr. Gale for his little girl. They’d covered the huge thing in glittering red and green, streaked with gold and silver. Waiting to be mounted on top were three chairs, which Christmas could only have described as thrones. One of these, naturally, was far more elaborate than the other two.

Christmas could already guess who would be seated on that throne. She did not see one for Jason, though, and imagined him standing at the side of the three women, waiting to serve. Around the barn were two other floats for the other pageant girls, each of them equipped for three women.

“What are you performing for the pageant?” Sasha asked as they worked.

“Nothing special,” Christmas answered.

“Dancing? Singing? You don’t play an instrument.”

“Chris doesn’t have to dance or sing,” Leah called down. “She just gets to wave and win.”

“I wrote a poem,” she said, “and I’m not some guaranteed win. You two need to stop that. You have a long line of admirers. It’s your own fault for fixating on the ones you can’t have.”

“What’s with your brother, anyway?” Sasha asked. “He’s a super hunk, but he doesn’t even show the slightest interest in anyone. Woman or man.”

Christmas shrugged, fired a staple into the float, and said, “Discussing my brother’s sex life isn’t high on my list of priorities.”

She felt a hot flush as she said it, remembering the feel of his tongue making her cum only a short time ago.

“I heard Kellen Miller asked you to the dance,” Sasha said, “and that you turned him down.”

“How did you hear that?” Christmas asked.

“He’s been moping about it for a couple days,” Sasha explained.

“I’m not ready to jump in and get involved with anyone, and that’s what Kellen’s after,” Christmas said, then asked, “Who are you going with?”

“I’m going solo,” Sasha said sadly. “If it’s not Brad, then I’ll just die alone. Woe is me,” she lamented.

The words stung Christmas. It was not as though she could change her own feelings, or Brad’s, nor Sasha’s. It was just… hurtful, she guessed, to be something that stood in the way of her friend being happy.

“What about you?” Sasha called up to Leah.

“Kristine Marks,” she said.

“Really?” Christmas said. “I thought she and Liz were a thing?”

“Not for, like, over a year. Us lesbos are a pretty small pool in Christmas, so I do not have a long line of admirers.”

“What about Megan?” Christmas asked.

Leah shook her head. “Moved to New York. You know,” she mused, “maybe we should just start a little femme commune. Since there’s only five of us and we’ve all been with each other anyway, it wouldn’t be too weird. Would it?”

“Everything you do is weird,” Sasha said.

“Nothing weird about what this tongue can do,” Leah said, grinning.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Sasha said, laughing.

“What about you, Chris? Wanna stretch your lesbian legs?” Leah joked.

“Sorry, honey. I like my lovers gruff, muscular, dark-haired and with different plumbing,” Christmas said.

“Like Brad,” Sasha sighed, wistfully.

How right you are, Christmas thought, hiding a blush.


***

With only a stop for lunch, the girls finished their float late in the afternoon. Once again, they met with Brad for dinner in town before the announcement of the Tree Festival winner. The streets were even more packed than the previous night, as were the shops and restaurants. They managed to get a table for the four of them at Lexington’s, an upscale Italian place that had become a town favorite since Bruce Lexington and his wife had moved in a decade ago.

While they waited for their food, Christmas felt Brad’s hand on her leg beneath the table. Sasha and Leah bantered about their guesses for the Tree Festival winner, but Christmas suddenly felt very hot. Brad’s hand crept between her legs, boldly, and she parted them, giving him a glare but doing nothing to stop him. Quite the opposite. Her body seemed to want to encourage him to touch her dangerously.

His fingers pressed against her pussy through her jeans, and she felt a flush in her cheeks. Damn it! She’d been teasing them both for too long. He was getting impatient and in a risky way. She tried to ignore him and pretended to listen to Sasha and Leah, but the distraction of her brother rubbing her pussy in public wasn’t making it easy. Finally, she had to stand and excuse herself.

“You okay?” Brad asked, a hint of a smile on his face. “You look a little flushed.”

“I’m fine. Just a little warm.”

She splashed cold water on her face in the restroom and took a minute to breathe. Damn him, she thought. It was wicked, and it was cruel, but she couldn’t deny the flutter in her stomach at the risk. Too risky, though. Composed, she returned to the table. Brad did not attempt to tease her again.

After dinner, and with the sun going down, the four of them stood in Christmas Green. The town’s massive tree was alight and beautiful, with carolers singing as people assembled for the results. Nearby, Christmas spotted Marcy, who was holding and stroking the cat in her arms. The animal was wearing a little sweater. Apparently, they’d gotten over their differences.

On his way to the tree, Mayor Tinsley, dressed in his Santa costume, stopped next to Christmas. She sighed, already knowing what was coming. It was time for him to trot out the mascot.

“Could father Christmas convince you to read the results?” he asked, grinning.

“How could I refuse?” she asked sarcastically.

Tinsley took her hand in his mitten, and they walked to the front of the crowd, who clapped for her and whistled. Marcy did not.

“Ho, ho, ho!” Tinsley laughed, “Merry Christmas!”

The crowd made the customary reply.

“The Tree Festival,” he said, “has its roots in the town’s founding,” he paused to allow for the obligatory chuckle at the pun, “This year, I am pleased to announce that we’ve received a record donation of $9,800!”

The crowd clapped again, and Christmas joined them.

“For over one hundred years, the town of Christmas has celebrated the holiday with a festival of light. We’re blessed to be a town of tradition, and to have neighbors that love it almost as much as the people who live here. Every entrant has put love and care into their tree, adding their unique light to that of the others. To announce the winning entry, we have our own town’s namesake, Christmas Carol!”

Christmas gave the crowd a wave and received a further round of applause. How quickly, she wondered, would those claps turn to jeers, had they only known the truth? She dismissed the thought and held up the envelope containing the entry. Tinsley unclipped his microphone and clipped it to her coat.

“The winner of this year’s Tree Festival is…” she paused and opened the envelope, read it, and announced excitedly, “Marcy Gale!”

The assembled crowd applauded, and Marcy turned to wave, holding the cat in one arm. Christmas handed the microphone back to the mayor.

“Thank you, Christmas,” he said, “and congratulations Marcy! If you’ll join your tree, we’ll have it recorded for the Hall of Records. As long as Christmas stands, your effort will light the holidays.”

More like Jason’s effort, Christmas thought, but did not voice it. Instead, she slunk away to rejoin Brad and the girls.

“Well done,” Brad said.

“Inspiring,” Sasha remarked.

“Brought a tear to my eye,” Leah added.

“Oh, be quiet,” Christmas said.

Together, they watched Marcy depart to have her photo taken with the tree.


*** Christmas came to bed naked, watching Brad’s eyes watch her as she slid beneath the covers. She yawned and spooned into him, wiggling her ass against his cock teasingly.

“Good night,” she said and shut her eyes.

A moment later, the light clicked off and Brad’s hand went around her. A second later, the hand was roaming across her skin.

“You were very naughty tonight,” she said into the dark.

He chuckled and continued roaming until he found one of her breasts and cupped it.

“That was dangerous,” she said. “We can’t do that.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to help myself,” he said into her ear, kissing her neck.

“I can forgive you, because you’re sweet,” she said and turned over to kiss him.

The remembered feeling of his fingers pressing into her sex so brazenly in the restaurant had kept her hot all evening. She took his hand from her hip and moved it to her pussy, parting her legs for him, encouraging him to touch it. His fingers caressed her folds, found them wet and warm. The sensation made him growl into her mouth as he rubbed her slit.

Christmas purred happily and ran her fingers into his hair. His touch was skillful and soft, drawing forth her arousal and making her push her pussy against his fingers. Her slick honey coated them, made it easy for him to push them into her. She squeaked pleasantly at their entry and arched her back. Releasing his mouth, she lay back and let him play with her.

Brad’s mouth found her breast and his tongue flicked one of her nipples lightly, then beat a rhythm on it that made her tingle. Occasionally, he’d suck it into his mouth, while his fingers sawed into her sex, pushing upwards and against her spot, making her buck with the sensation. Then, he’d pull them back out and rub her clit while he continued to toy with her breast.

“Yes…” she moaned quietly, as his fingers pushed back into her, filling her up, opening her to his touch.

Brad worked them easily in and out of her now, the friction building her up. His hand rubbed firmly against her clit as he moved them in and out of her faster, harder, all the while keeping time on her nipple. Her breath came in soft gasps, punctuated with delirious giggles as the pleasure intensified, until it was a wave of ardent desire that she couldn’t fight.

Her hand released the grip on the sheet and found his cock, held it, stroked it, and then gripped it as she came. He kissed her again, hard, as if sucking the pleasure out of her as her body jerked, all the while keeping that pleasurable stroke up on her pussy. Damn him for being so good at it, she thought. How was she going to hold out for four more nights of this?



 

More chapters of heartfelt friendship, erotic passion, and tearjerking tales await in the full story of Twelve Days in Christmas. Pick this story up in the shop to read all 142 pages of the beautiful story of sibling romance and the depth of true friendship.




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