A naughty gift exchange between cousins

Christmases at home have always been fun and joyful, full of food, drink, lots of TV watching and good times with family. My parents decorated the home in Christmas lights and put the inflatable Santa on the lawn to please me, their baby girl, returning from her first semester in college. After my six hour drive home, I was happy to see my dad in the open garage deep frying a turkey in peanut oil. Beside him was my cousin, Kyle. I was glad to see him too.

Kyle is attending California Poly Tech in the next town over from my parents; thousands of miles from his home in New York. He really couldn’t afford to fly across country to spend Christmas at home, so my mother insisted that her nephew come spend Christmas with us which was cool with me. Of all of my cousins, Kyle is my favorite. Being the eldest cousins out of eleven, we’ve always been as thick as thieves down for any kind of mischief; from catching tadpoles together in the creek behind grandpa’s house to sneaking beer from coolers as teens at family reunions. We’re both eighteen now, though I’m six months older. I haven’t seen Kyle in a year and barely recognized him. He’s certainly grown into his lanky frame, sporting defined biceps and a lithe but sturdy torso. His once clean cut haircut had been replaced by a shaggy mop of ash brown hair. The braces were off and his great smile was accented with dimples covered by his new facial scruff. He has the most gorgeous eyes, much more blue than mine. He and my dad waved at me as I pulled into the driveway. It was good to be home.

It was well past midnight, dark and quiet in the two story house, when I put on my slippers and padded down the stairs in my pink flannel pajamas to the quiet living room where a dark Christmas tree sat in the corner. I plugged in the tree’s lights and gazed at the beautiful tree full of ornaments we’ve collected over the years. I knelt beside the wrapped presents and after rummaging around, found one my mother addressed.

‘To: Stella, Love Mom.’

I shook it. By the weight and sound of the gift shifting inside the store given box, I could tell it was a piece of clothing, probably a sweater. I put it down and found another one for me, a smaller package; a little too big for earrings but a good size for a new phone, watch or some other electronic device. I placed it back under the tree. Then I did something I’ve been doing since the age of three. I laid on my back and slid my head and torso beneath the Christmas tree to gaze up into the red, yellow, green and blue lights that, now warmed up, were starting to blink. It’s like gazing into my own little universe of lights and fresh smelling pine boughs. I drew my hand across my flannel shirt to pop open one of its four big buttons to massage my naked tit. It’s a bad habit that I find very soothing. I gently pinched, pulled and twisted my pale nipple until it was puckered and hard as I became lost in my world of lights and comfort.

I sighed thinking about my first semester in college. Living in a dorm while finding a balance between partying and studying was challenging until my mediocre mid-term grades forced me to reevaluate my time management. Thank God I brought my grades up. And though I’m in shape, having been a tumbling gymnast for years, I haven’t had sex since August, when my high school boyfriend, Alex and I parted ways to attend colleges thousands of miles apart. He knew as well as I that we wouldn’t be faithful to each other, not on campuses with so many new, hot student bodies, so we parted as friends. Sure, with my dark honey hair, perky tits and bright smile, I fight off horny frat boys every Friday night and I thought I would’ve scored some dick in the dorm by now. But improving my good grades got in the way. Maybe I should call Alex. I wonder if he came home for Christmas.

“Hey, Turbo Twat.”

I flinched at the male voice bringing me back to earth. I peeked down the length of my body to see Kyle kneeling on one knee, peeking beneath the lowest tree bough to meet me face to face to call me his childhood nickname for me.

“Hey Butt Munch,” I replied with my mutual childhood name for him when our mothers were out of earshot.

Kyle had on red plaid flannel pajama bottoms and a vintage Black Flag t-shirt which showed off his bulging guns. He slid under the tree beside me, chest up, and our shoulders touched as he nuzzled into me betwixt the wrapped gifts. The lights glittered in his eyes.

I returned my gaze to the lights above my nose and said, “I used to lie under the tree and go into a trance for hours looking at the lights. My parents thought I might be autistic.”

“I like the lights too. I’d turn them on when I’d sneak down late at night on Christmas Eve and peel open a flap of the biggest Christmas present to see what I got and then seal it back up. I just couldn’t wait.”

I asked, “What are you doing up?”

“Came down to sneak one of Uncle Rob’s beer. So you waiting for Santa?”

“Yeah, he’s got a package for me.”

He slyly crooned, “I’ve got a package for you.”

I flirted back. “Really? What’d you get me?”

“You have to wait for Christmas.”

“It’s one a.m. Christmas day, ‘tard.”

It was only after I saw him staring at my chest when I remembered my boob was exposed from a popped open button. My skin was a kaleidoscope of color. He tentatively reached over with a crooked finger and rubbed his knuckle over my nipple which began to harden under his brushing strokes. It felt so good. I didn’t stop him.

He asked, “You really want your present now?”

“Yeah. Let’s do our gift exchange now. I stuffed you a stocking but it’s still in my bag.”

“Maybe that’s best. You can’t open my present in front of your parents.”

I gave him a curious look. He removed his lazy hand from my nubby hard nipple and said, “Come on.”

We scooted out from beneath the tree and I turned off the tree’s lights before we both began to creep upstairs. Though my bedroom is four doors down and around the corner from my parents’ room, and my parents were well soused on whiskey sours, we were still as quiet as elves creeping up the squeaking stairs to keep from waking the family dogs, Murphy and Bella who had taken to sleeping in my parents’ bedroom.

I whispered, “Meet me in my room.”

Kyle and I separated as he walked to the guest room beside my parent’s room and I went to mine. By the pale white light of pixie lights strung over my headboard, I dug Kyle’s Christmas stocking from my suitcase. Kyle crept into my room with a wrapped box, shutting my door behind him as I plopped onto my bed near the headboard. He set my gift beside him as he sat on the edge of my bed and I handed him the big red felt stocking stuffed with goodies.

“Merry Christmas,” I said in a small voice.

He pulled out the small card and read it.

“Kyle’s Dorm Survival Kit.”

“It’s not much,” I said, as he pulled out the first gift.

I’d packed his stocking with gag gifts and treats: a six inch long one inch thick peppermint stick, a box of condoms, a beer bottle opener, a coffee mug from the campus bookstore and three homemade brownies wrapped in cellophane and topped with a bow.

He arched his eyebrow and asked, “Are these regular brownies?”

I mischievously grinned and shook my head no.

He chuckled. “I’ll save these for later,” he said, stuffing everything back into the stocking before reaching behind his back to hand me my gift. It was a foot long and I greedily took it before shaking it by my ear.

I asked, “What is it? A bong?”

“Open it.”

I tore open the paper. My eyes widened at the sight.

“A vibrator?”

He chuckled as I removed the pink twelve inch dildo shaped vibrator from its box and giggled as

I waved it at him like a wand and asked, “Is this for my Turbo Twat? God, you catch me masturbating once and you never let it go.”

“When we used to go camping as kids and you peed in the woods, I peeked. Yours was the first vagina I ever saw.”

I stopped jabbing the vibrator at him as his tone became serious.

I asked, “And now?”

“I see my fair share.”

“Good for you.”

“But yours is still the prettiest.”

I went quiet again as a wetness began to flush within my cozy slit. Was he coming on to me? He walked his fingers up my flannel covered thigh to the bottom’s elastic waistband and tugged it open to peek inside. I didn’t stop him, mesmerized by his muscles flexing on his defined arms and shoulders as he peered down at my snug V.

He murmured, “You wanna make sure that vibrator works in case I have to return it, you know. I put batteries in it for you.”

It was like we were playing truth or dare all over again. I turned it on. It vibrated my entire hand. For a second, I was paranoid that my parents would here’s it dull buzz but then again, they were so drunk and tired when they toddled to bed, they are out for the night. I looked Kyle square in the eye as I slid the vibrating wand down my stomach. He still held open my elastic band to peer at my lap and I eased the vibrator to my spreading thighs to press it against my pussy lips until they parted and it pulsated against my clit. It felt like electricity coursing through my entire crotch.

He lustily muttered, “I want to see your pussy.”

Kyle’s other hand reached for my waistband and I took the vibrator away from my pussy to steady myself as I raised my hips for him to pull off my bottoms. I sat there, naked from the waist down. His eyes remained on my small strip of wheat downy hair as he tossed my bottoms aside. His intense face left me sopping wet.

“No panties?” he asked.

“I hate panties.”

“Slut.”

His thumbs slowly spread open my pussy lips before he bent to lick my clit. My clit jerked away from his illicit tongue until it mashed into my pink. With each flick of his tongue, each suck of his lips, I squirmed as I flopped backwards upon my duvet and just gave in to all the sensations of arousal and sin. He picked up the still vibrating vibrator and held it so close to my swollen clit that I could feel it flutter over it like butterfly wings. Then he touched it to my clit. I bucked against him while covering my mouth with my hands to keep from yelping out loud. His face was so intense. He stared at my cunt as though it were magical.

He slid the vibrator over my now slippery slit a couple of times before he turned it off. I felt him move around on my bed and when I opened my eyes, I saw him grab the candy cane from his stocking. He grinned at me as he peeled the wrapper from the thick peppermint stick. He neared it to my face and I opened my mouth as though it were accepting a dick. His eyes were transfixed on my mouth and my display of eager licking as I sucked the peppermint stick, pretending it was his dick. He withdrew it from my lips and with a gleam in his eye, he inserted it between my legs and pushed it up into me, prodding me until it went up my hole.

“Ohhhh,” I moaned as I closed my eyes to the sensation of this sticky object’s intrusion.

My dirty cousin slid it in and out before slowly withdrawing it, and he bent to lick my clit and it twitched under the sensation of his velvety tongue and peppermint oil. Then he blew against me. His hot breath alternating with the cooling sensation of peppermint oil was like nothing I’d felt before. My toes curled when Kyle’s tongue licked at my peppermint clit and when he blew on it, I writhed in ecstasy and fought from squirting in his face. A weird orgasm began to coil deep in my groin readying to spring a release. He stuck the candy cane in again and fucked me until I tapped him to stop. He pulled it out and pushed his pointed tongue into my peppermint hole. My legs trembled and my hands flailed against the bed as I stifled a squeal into my pillow as an orgasm erupted from deep inside. He sat up with his candy glazed mouth and watched me roll in the bed and when I stopped, he rubbed my clit and I squirted a little which amused him.

I whispered, “Let’s fuck.”

He sat up with his stiff hard-on tenting in his pajamas.

“We can’t,” he said.

I hung my head in shame. “I know.”

“But can I cum on you?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, squeezing my breasts together as I reclined back into my pillows. “I want you to cum too.”

He nodded as he unbuttoned my top and peeled it open to leave my breast exposed to the air and dim lights.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as he quickly slipped his pajama bottoms down to his knees. His hard dick bounced out before he grabbed it in his hand to stroke as he straddled my waist. It was the first time I’d ever saw his penis, let alone erect, and I was impressed.

“Nice,” I said.

He smiled as he began to furiously jerk off over me. I’d never had a guy jack off over me before but it seemed to come second nature to both of us. I teased him by sticking out my tongue. He stopped to bend down closer to my chest and slipped his dick head, now slick with precum, between my tits as I pressed them together. It slid in the moist crease between two pressed mounds of flesh. It felt so good, the way it glided over my ribs as his inner thighs rubbed against my waist. I writhed beneath him as I watched his dick slide up and back over my skin as his hand gripped the flesh beneath my flannel shirt. He finally stopped and knelt to furiously jerk off over me, his hand fapping away. His free hand travelled down my stomach, where he stuck his finger between the lips of my wet pussy until it pulled out to clutch my thigh, and I groaned, aching for his fingers to ram up me once more. He stifled his grunting behind clenched teeth as hot cum spurted onto my tits. It spurted again and again as he stroked himself dry, then he rubbed his dick on my torso, spreading his jizz all over my skin as beads of cum still oozed from dick’s head. I grabbed a bunch of tissues from a dispenser and handed them to him. He wiped me before taking care of his own sloppy dick. Then he closed my pajama top which I buttoned up. He was still smiling.

“A pearl necklace,” he said, pulling up his pants. “Don’t say I never gave you anything,”

I playfully hit him with my pillow as he dismounted my squeaking bed. He grabbed his stocking before slowly opening my door to peek out into the hall. He turned to me and smiled.

He whispered, “Good night, Stella.”

“Good night, Kyle.”

He left my room, closing the door behind him, leaving his sticky candy cane on my pillow. I stuck the vibrator into my nightstand drawer and kicked the packaging under my bed before crawling under the covers in my pajama top. My pussy still tingled from the peppermint oil. I picked up the candy cane staining my pillowcase before reclining upon my back and putting it in my mouth to swirl my tongue over it as I stared at the pixie lights above my bed.

Christmas morning arrived with clear California blue skies. After a shower in my suite’s bathroom, I applied a little make-up and put on a fresh t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms. Murphy and Bella greeted me as I opened my bedroom door. They enthusiastically wagged their Labrador tails as they escorted me down the stairs to the kitchen where I met Kyle standing by the coffee machine waiting for his cup to brew. We exchanged tentative smiles and pleasant Merry Christmases as my Mom scurried around the kitchen slicing bagels and pastries, frying bacon and scrambling eggs for breakfast. After the coffee brewed and the four of us grabbed small plates of breakfast, we gathered around the Christmas tree and opened gifts. And as the football game blared from the sixty inch screen, where my dad sat with the dogs rooting on his team, Kyle retrieved one of the brownies from his room, breaking it in half in which he handed me a piece. We bumped the brownies together as though they were champagne glasses and munched on the pot brownie before settling into the big U-shaped sectional couch with our coffee and tablets joining dad and Bella curled up beside him. Murphy was in the kitchen still sniffing around for fallen crumbs while mom sat at the counter looking up recipes on her laptop as she yapped with a friend on her phone. Kyle and I stayed on our tablets chatting with friends, posting pictures and shopping on-line as the brownies kicked in. The definition of wake and bake.

He nudged me and murmured, “Turbo Twat.”

I elbowed him. “Butt munch.”

“Peppermint pussy.”

“Peppermint pussy eater.”

Above the game’s referee’s whistle, dad asked, “What?”

“Nothing,” we said in unison.

I still have the hots for my cousin. He’s here for another two days. We have two pot brownies and a shit load of uncounted beer. Home with the family. We’re naughty and it feels so nice.

Books by Julian Delacourt

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