Your cock is beautiful – 25

“Your cock is beautiful” Part-25 Continues…..

It was always just the four of us for Christmas. For Thanksgiving we spent one day with as much family as we could cram into one room, but our parents always liked to spend this time with just us.

Christmas day was the most fun it had been in years, mostly because Stella and I were on speaking terms again. We joked around like we did when we were kids, and I knew our parents could see the difference by the sly looks they kept giving each other.

After we’d eaten the delicious turkey dinner that we’d all helped to make, as was the tradition, it was time to open presents.

“Wait here.” said Stella to me as we moved into the living room, “I got you something.”

Again my parents exchanged knowing looks, and I rolled my eyes at them.

She came back holding a beautifully wrapped box with a bow on the top. It was small, big enough for maybe a book or something around that size. For a moment I was stunned at the effort she’d gone to, even though I already knew what was inside it.

I lifted off the lid and saw her gift, nestled in the center of a pile of different coloured strips of thin paper, along with a hand-written note,

“To Steven. With love, your big sister.”

It was a twenty dollar bill.

I grinned, then immediately put on a look of shock. I picked up the money and held it in my hands, disbelievingly.

“Oh… wow.” I said, looking up at her, “This… I don’t know what to say. Thank you… so much…”

She grinned and took my hand. I squeezed it in return, as if we were feeling a moment of pure sibling connection.

“All I got you was a card.” I said, sounding ashamed.

I handed it to her, and saw her eyes light up.

She opened it and as she expected a twenty fell out onto her lap.

She read the card aloud,

“To Stella, the world’s best little sister. Merry Christmas.”

She leapt forward and threw her arms around me, kissing me on the cheek.

“Merry Christmas little brother.” she said, pretending like she was about to cry.

We heard a sob, and turned to see Mom actually was about to cry.

We all laughed at her reaction, including Dad, but it was actually understandable. This method of gift giving was another old tradition of ours, just like each insisting we were the older twin.

It had started on our 11th birthday, when we’d decided not to buy something for each other but just to give each other twenty dollars and buy whatever we wanted. It didn’t occur to us at the time how pointless a gesture it was, but we’d kept it up. The acting shocked and grateful just became part of the joke over the years.

The last two or maybe three years, however, we’d exchanged our ‘gifts’ in secret, almost. No cards, no notes, just the money left on a pillow, or handed directly to the other. It was really the last thing we’d had that had made us feel like we were even still related, a sad shadow of an old connection. Mom knew that all this emotion was an act, but seeing us play along with it meant that we were friends again, something that I’m sure our parents were overjoyed to see.

Mom waved away our laughter while trying not to break out in tears, and we got around to opening the rest of our presents. We had a large extended family, so we mostly got a lot of spending money from Aunts, Uncles, and cousins who had too many names on their mailing list to bother buying specific items for each individual. However this year, amongst the cash and various gift vouchers, I opened a very expensive looking digital camera from an Aunt on my Dad’s side.

I spent a few minutes playing with it and looking at the instructions before setting it aside and moving on to the next present, as is a world-wide Christmas tradition for everyone with a big family, I’m sure.

Afterwards my Mom took me aside.

“I know you don’t really need a camera. I mean, there’s probably one on your phone.” said Mom, “But try to use it a few times, maybe send her some pictures you’ve taken. Show her you appreciate it.”

“I’m sure I’ll find some use for it.” I told her.

I picked it up again.

“Well why don’t you start right now?” she asked, “Alright everyone, over by the fireplace!”

She tore Stella and Dad away from their discussion about soccer, a passion they shared. They were both clinging to a soccer themed calendar Dad had gotten from his brother and heatedly debating the details of the last season’s team structures.

The three of them lined up and I set the camera on a timer. I walked over and stood beside Mom, only for Stella to yank me over to her side, clinging on to my arm. When the flash went off my smile and look of surprise were completely genuine.

After admiring my new camera’s impressive definition, we all stretched out in front of the TV, Mom stoked the fire and Dad made us all hot chocolate and brought in a plate of mince pies.

It was the first time in a long while I’d felt like our family was whole again. I started to wonder why every Christmas hadn’t been like this.

“Don’t forget, we’re having Mia and her parents over for dinner tomorrow.” my mom suddenly announced, “So leave something for dessert.”

Oh. Right.

Mia.

==

We were all dressed our best when Mia and her parents, Alice and Bob, arrived. Mia was wearing a lovely little blue dress that was long enough to be decent, but still showed off her legs wonderfully. Alice was wearing a similar shaped dress, but in a dark green. I haven’t talked much about Alice before, but she was essentially an older, more mature version of Mia. They had very similar faces, but her eyes were brown instead of Mia’s vivid green.

And her tits were a lot smaller too, but that wasn’t something I noticed until puberty.

We sat down and ate the re-heated remains of our Christmas dinner, like always. We always ended up cooking too much, and it was almost as good the second time as the first.

The parents always had wine while Stella, Mia and I had some sort of fancy sparkling grape juice. It was delicious, although I often wished we’d be allowed to try wine again.

This year my wish was granted. Instead of breaking out the kid stuff, Mom went right around the table, filling our glasses too. We toasted, and I sipped the first alcohol I’d had since I was 15.

It was delicious. My taste buds had remembered how to enjoy the flavor, and I smiled as I absorbed the deep and satisfying sensation. I glanced up to see everyone staring at my reaction, confused that I didn’t grimace like the girls had. I smiled wider, remembering how similar their reactions were the first time we’d been allowed to taste it.

I knew they’d been drinking alcohol since then, but when Stella and I had talked about it she seemed to be more concerned with slightly alcoholic fruit drinks, or occasionally spirits mixed with energy drinks than wine.

I sipped my wine and enjoyed my meal, trying hard to avoid any lingering eye contact with Mia. This was difficult, as she was wearing more make up than usual and looked, frankly, fucking incredible.

After dinner we put out dessert, which was warm apple pie and ice cream.

After this, we just sat and talked around the table. Honestly I wasn’t paying much attention to the conversations around me. As usual I was lost in my thoughts, just nodding or smiling at the appropriate times. This worked to my disadvantage when Stella suddenly turned to me and said,

“Right Steven?”

I raised my eyebrows and cocked my head, making it obvious I hadn’t been listening.

“McClaren’s Tools is the best place to get power tools, right?” she said.

“Yeah…” I agreed, “That’s where I’d get it.”

Not that I knew what ‘it’ was.

“What about Fix-It’s?” Bob asked, referring to the big chain store nearby.

“Good for supplies, but not tools.” I answered, “.They hardly ever do deals. They usually have the price even higher than normal because they haven’t got much competition. I used to work there.”

I’d spent last summer working as the cashier and moving stock around.

“I thought you worked at McClaren’s.” Stella said.

“Yeah, I worked there too.” said, “That’s how I know old Mr. McClaren is related to one of his suppliers. It’s name brand stuff, but he gets a good deal on them, and charges less because of it.”

That had been the summer before. A much easier job working in the small, local shop, but also a lot more boring.

Your cock is beautiful – 25 will continue on the next page