Mistletoe and Wine

What did surprise me, though, was that the hugs she gave us were strangely clingy today. Maybe it was just the wine. Usually she'd squeeze us really hard and let go again, but not today. It was almost as if she was trying to hang on to us for something.

"Love you, too, Mom," I said quickly, trying to break the hug that was starting to feel more like an embrace, and gave her a quick peck on her cheek, but she pulled me close again. It felt strange to embrace my mother like this, or better, be embraced. I couldn't remember when I had last been held like this.

"Put on some music, Fred," Bobbie rescued me with her request, and Mom finally let me go.

I found a Christmas Rock CD with all the old Christmas ballads on it, you know, the likes of 'Happy Christmas (War is over)' by John Lennon, or 'Jingle Bells Rock' by Bobby Helms. All the old favorites, anyways, and, of course, not to be forgotten, USA for Africa's 'We are the world'...

I put it on. It nicely fit the somewhat sentimental atmosphere among the three of us, as we snuggled up in our chairs, enjoying each other's company.

We went to bed much earlier than normal that night, a little 'under the influence', maybe, but nicely relaxed and in a strangely festive mood.

--

That night I had the most amazing dream.

Bobbie and I were sleeping in the same bed for some reason that wasn't really important.

We started fooling around, like siblings would do, teasing and tickling each other, mock-fighting, and Bobbie ended up sitting on my lap, trying to pin my arms down on the bed with her hands.

In my dream her tits were even bigger than they were in real life, and they were dangling in front of my face, held back just by the flimsy fabric of her tiny top. Her crotch was firmly pressing onto my dick, rubbing back and forth ever so slightly, as she was struggling to hold my arms down. I was hard, and my dick felt as if it wanted to squirt any second.

"Fred! Oh my gosh!"

Bobbie's shrill voice rudely interrupted my sweet dreams.

I opened my eyes and saw my sister standing at my bedside, still holding on to the covers she had just pulled off me. She was staring at my midriff, a flustered look on her face.

"Whassup, Sis," I asked, still sleepy and very much involved in the hot action I had been getting in my dream just seconds before.

"Your dick is hard again," she said, almost whispering, as if she didn't want me to hear.

That wasn't really any news to me. Not after the dream I just had, and anyways, I had a hard-on every morning. Fred Jr. was working just fine, thank you very much. No complaints in that department.

This morning, however, Fred Jr. had decided to make an in-person appearance. He had freed himself from my PJ pants and was sticking out through the fly, standing up straight from my body, in all his naked glory.

I don't know why I said what I said next. It wasn't really appropriate, and it wasn't really any of my sister's business, either.

"It's hard like this every morning, Sis."

My sister didn't answer. She kept staring, though, and I was way to sleepy to realize I should probably have covered up.

"Time to get up, Fred," my sister said factually after a couple of seconds silence. "Mom's got breakfast ready. Time to put the decorations up."

She turned around and left the room. I looked after her. Did I see her hips sway a little more than usual?

'Wow, she has a nice ass.' I couldn't help noticing.

Needless to say, this morning's events called for another good session in the shower. It went just like yesterday's. The thoughts of my sister's hot body that had gone around my head for the past two days or so did their magic again, and when it was time, Fred Jr. unloaded forcefully again. This time, my spunk hit the tiles.

Breakfast was a little awkward this morning. Bobbie had a hard time looking at me, and I didn't feel overly comfortable around her, either.

When Mom left to clean up after breakfast, I said, "I'm sorry, Bobbie. I should have covered up this morning."

"Is it really like that every day, Fred," Bobbie asked instead of answering me. She blushed slightly.

"Yeah, but why do you want to know?"

"Oh, nothing. Just curious."

"You shouldn't have seen it, Sis. I'm sorry," I said, thinking 'that's what you get from pulling the covers off a sleeping man.'

Bobbie didn't respond. Did I see her licking her lips?

"A penny for your thoughts, Sis," I said after a moment of silence.

"Nothing, Fred, going to take my shower now."

She ruffled my hair when she walked past me. She hadn't done that in years.

We spent the day getting the house ready for Christmas.

Bobbie and Mom got excited every time they pulled a decoration out of one of the boxes. It was my job to climb up and down the ladder, making sure everything that needed to be fixed was fixed properly.

By the time it got dark outside, around 4pm, we had most of the work done. The house was clean, and the decorations really made a difference. Little Santas, Elves and snowmen (yes, they were snow-men) were placed on every ledge around the house, alongside their tools or other relevant artefacts. We even had a tiny wintery village set up in the living room.

The ceiling lights were reflected over and over in the many baubles we had placed around the house, and together with the green and red from the garlands that were draped around the handrail of the staircase they really did give the house a festive look.

There was one important thing still to go up, yet. The tree. Putting up the tree had always been a big deal in our house, and it was very important this year, too.

It had its dedicated place, in the corner between the fireplace and the window. While I set up the tree, Mom and Bobbie went off to the kitchen to get some more mulled wine and cookies ready.

When the tree was up and decorated, I gathered all the empty boxes and was ready to put them back in the attic, when one last decoration fell out of one of them: a mistletoe. Green plastic twigs with little white balls on them.

Although it didn't look like much, the mistletoe had always been a special decoration, its traditional place being right over the living room door.

I placed the decoration on the coffee table while I was moving the empty boxes into the hallway. When I came back to the living room, Mom and Bobbie had found the mistletoe.

"Put it up where it belongs, Fred. Maybe this year, I'll get kissed..."

"...by a dark and handsome man. Mom, we know," Bobbie and I said nearly in unison, with drawn out voices. We were both tired of this story. It had been the same for the past 19 years, and never once had it come true.

I got the ladder and placed the decoration exactly in the center above the living room door. You never knew. We might even get an attractive female visitor this year. One that I could kiss...

"Sit down, Fred, and have some wine."

Mom placed a steaming mug of mulled wine on the coffee table for me.

Bobbie started the CD again, and soon, we were all in a festive mood.

"Care to dance, Madam," I asked Mom playfully, and held out my hand, as Cliff Richard began singing about 'Christmas Time'.

"I'd love to," she answered, and took the hand I had offered her gallantly, pulling me close. I hadn't expected this.

Mom wrapped her arms around my neck, and swayed her hips to the slow beats of the song from the CD.

I didn't know where to put my hands. Any place that was available seemed inappropriate, and I finally decided to hold mom by her hips. Holding my mom like that felt a little strange.

"You didn't think your old mother would enjoy a slow dance, did you, Fred", Mom said quietly as our bodies moved to the slow music.

We had only just found our rhythm, when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. It was Bobbie, who obviously wanted to be part of this, too.

"Can I take over, Mom? I want to dance with Fred, too."

Mom let go of me, and Bobbie took over her place. I put my hands on her hips, just as I had done with Mom. Bobbie pulled me close and buried her face deep into my neck. I put my arms around her and joined my hands behind her back.

Mom was ready to go to bed.

"Good night, Kids. don't stay up too late."

I was enjoying the dance. Bobbie's hot breath against my skin, her hands around my neck, her hips, her belly rubbing against me, my hands holding her...

I closed my eyes and was instantly brought back to my Freshman year in college. Homecoming dance. I had taken Millie Piatkowski, my then girlfriend, and we had danced just like I danced with my sister now.

While we were dancing, my hands had dropped onto her ass, and Millie had nuzzled the skin of my neck with her full, sensuous lips, drawing little circles with the tip of her tongue. I had gotten hard, and Millie had suggested we should go somewhere a bit more private after the song was finished.

We had headed off behind the hall. Initially, we only held hands and kissed. Then we kissed some more, and Millie moved onto my lap, reached underneath her skirt and opened my fly. I slid into her like a hot knife through butter. Millie rocked her hips slowly but steadily, fucking me gently while we were kissing.

As Bobbie and I danced, my hands dropped onto my sister's ass, too. I felt her firm cheeks rolling underneath my fingers as she moved her hips to the slow beat of the music, and I gently squeezed her firm globes, while I remembered the feeling of Millie's hot cunt on my cock that night in September.

Fred Jr. started to show his appreciation, too, and I couldn't stop him.

This was crazy. I was dancing with my sister and images of fucking Millie Piatkowski were playing inside my head. It had been amazing, although it ended a little bit too abruptly. I remember I came too soon and squirted my jizz deep inside Millie's cunt. Millie hadn't been impressed at all. We had a couple of weeks of uncertainty, and she ended our relationship soon after she got her period. This had been somewhat of a traumatic experience.

Tonight, this didn't bother me in the slightest. My sister and I were dancing, holding on to each other, molding our bodies into each other. I enjoyed the feeling of holding a female body tightly, even if it belonged to my sister.

It didn't take long, and Fred Jr. was at full mast, pressing firmly against my sister's belly. This was a little awkward. I didn't mean for it to happen. I moved my hands off my sister's ass and onto her lower back. At least I didn't want to be groping her ass while my hard-on was pressing against her.

Bobbie briefly released my neck, grabbed my hands and put them back to where they had been before.

She whispered, "That's better, Fred," and started rolling her hips again, pressing her body a little harder against mine this time.

Chris Rea had long stopped singing. It was Bing Crosby's turn, trying to convince us that the only good Christmas was a white Christmas.

We didn't care about the songs. Bobbie and I were dancing.

We were alone. Holding on to each other. Grinding our bodies against each other. I was enjoying every second of it. I didn't care about my dick being hard any more.

When the CD was finished, Bobbie let go of me and said, "Thanks, Fred. I needed that. Good night, little brother." She looked me deep in the eyes, and left me standing alone in the living room. She hadn't called me 'little brother' in years.

--

We didn't see each other again, until Bobbie came home for the holidays.

"I've got a good bit of shopping still to do this week, guys. I was way too busy at work these past few days, but we were trying to get our last project finished before we closed off for the year. How's everybody else doing? Are you all set, Mom, Fred," a high-spirited Bobbie asked as we were enjoying our Saturday brunch at the beginning of the Christmas holidays.

"I'm all set," Mom answered first. "I don't have all that much shopping to do any more. I only needed one for you, Bobbie, and one for Fred, that's it, really. Oh, and we have a Secret Santa at work, so I had to get a little something for that, too. I drew Harold this year. Wasn't all that easy to find something little for him. The man seems to have everything."

Harold was Mom's boss, Harold Manssion, Manssion with double 's', of Manssion & Manssion, one of the best law firms in our town. The one Mom worked for, obviously.

Harold was also one of the town's most eligible bachelors, and I had often fantasized what it would be like to have him as my dad. I certainly would have loved to live in his place, a very respectable (pun intended) mansion in one of the best and most expensive neighborhoods.

One year he held the firm's annual BBQ at his place, and we all got a glimpse of what it could be like to be part of his family. For months after this I pestered Mom to try and snatch him up, but she had never really shown any interest, and so, over time, I let go of the topic.

"What did you get him, Mom," I asked. My curiosity had been awoken. Would her choice of gift give anything away? Was she... or wasn't she interested in her boss?

"Yes, Mom, what did you get him," Bobbie pitched in. It seemed we were both thinking the same.

"I don't know kids. What does it matter?" Mom seemed a little bit flustered by our request.

"Well, Mom...," Bobbie and I responded, almost at the same time.

"I got him a silver letter opener, if you must know. I saw it in an antiques shop the other day and it was just about in the price range we had agreed to spend. Well, almost. It was just a little over budget, I guess." She blushed again.

Harold was a little bit old-fashioned, not backwards, just conscious of tradition. I was sure he would cherish the gift Mom had chosen for him. It looked as if she had spent time finding something that was appropriate, rather going for the 'embarrass the boss and see where it leaves you' approach many employees in her situation would have taken. I was sure Harold's basement cupboard was full of mugs that read 'World's best lawyer' and 'Best boss'.

"I still have all my shopping to do," I admitted cheerfully. "Bobbie, if you like we can go to the mall together on Monday and see what we can get for each other."

"I'll give you a ride, Fred, if that is what you want, but I'm not taking you along on my Christmas shopping." Bobbie was adamant. I was ready to settle for the ride.

"OK, then. Deal. You give me a ride and I'll leave you alone, Sis."

The rest of the weekend was uneventful. We all needed to catch up on sleep and rest, and the whole family spent Sunday doing nothing, each of us in our own rooms, very happy to be left to our own devices.

On Monday morning I was awoken once again by an impatient Bobbie. She seemed to make a habit of running into my room and pulling the covers off me to wake me up when she had plans and thought I needed to be part of them, like today, when I was supposed to get a ride to the mall with her. But maybe she just wanted to see my hard cock again.

If she did, she was disappointed this morning. I lay on my side, my back facing into the room when the covers came off. Don't get me wrong, Fred Jr. was hard as always, but I was carrying concealed, if you know what I mean. I carefully tucked the big boy away and slowly turned over.

"A very good morning to you, too, Sis," I remarked sarcastically. "Thanks for waking me up. what time is it?"

"It's almost nine, Fred. I'm ready to go to the mall. I reckon we should go early, or the place will be black with people. Hurry and get up, sleepy head!"

Great! I'm on holidays, and my sister is waking me up at silly o'clock to go shopping, but hey! It was Christmas (almost), and now that I was awake anyways, there was nothing stopping me from having a shower and getting my breakfast in.

"I'll jump into the shower, Bobbie. Do you want to make us breakfast?"

"I've had mine already, Fred. I really want to get going. I'm afraid, coffee and cereal will have to make do this morning, little brother."

OK. I got it. I'd get something to eat at the mall. We'd be there early enough anyways.

"I'll be quick, big Sis. A shower will do me. I'll get breakfast at the mall."

When we were sitting in the car, driving to the mall, Bobbie asked out of the blue, "Do you think, Mom has a thing for Harold, Fred?"

"What? A thing? What does that even mean, Bobbie? Are you asking me if I think they are fucking?"

"Stop it, Fred! I wouldn't care if they did, but I'm sure they don't. Do you think she's attracted to him, though?"

"She put a lot of thought into his Secret Santa gift, that's for sure. Maybe she is. Wouldn't be the worst that could happen."

"I think they've been prancing around each other for years. Do you remember the summer we all went over to his house? He was literally all over her that afternoon."

I didn't remember that. I was probably too young to notice. All I had eyes for that afternoon was the incredible basketball court he had behind his house. A couple of other kids and I had taken full advantage of it all afternoon.

"She never went for him, though. I tried to convince her to go out on a date with him for ages, but she never did. Do you really thing she is falling for him now?"

"I don't know. She's been different lately."

"She has been acting strangely, Bobbie, you're right. The other day in the kitchen when I rescued a stack of plates, she kissed me. She's never done that before, not since I was ten or so, at least. And do you remember when she danced with me that night, before we put up the decorations? She rubbed herself against me all the time. I was hardly able to think straight. That is strange."

"I think she's horny, Fred, don't you? She needs to get laid. Big time. And what do you think is bringing it on? Right - her being around Harold all day! That's what's making her horny."

Why was my sister so concerned about Mom's sex life? As far as I was concerned, Mom was well able to look after herself. No need to be concerned. However, remembering the evening we danced together a couple of weeks ago, a devilish thought crossed my mind.

"Are you horny, too, Sis, sometimes," I asked her without warning.

Bobbie didn't answer. She turned scarlet instead. Bingo!

"I'm horny all the time, lately. It's been way too long since I've been getting my share. I haven't gotten laid since New Year's Day, Bobbie, can you believe that? Almost one year without sex. I would never thought anyone would be able to survive that."

"Stop it, Fred. You're not supposed to tell me that. You're my brother for crying out loud. That's way too much information for me." Bobbie sounded as if she was getting mad. Now it was me who remained silent for the rest of the trip.

"Meet here again at 3," Bobbie told me when we arrived at the mall. "Don't be late, Fred. I'm not going to wait for you."

I knew I wouldn't be late. How the hell was I going to kill five hours? I'd have my shopping done in about five minutes or so. Perfume for Mom, a funny novelty for Sis. The same as every year.

--

I managed to get through the five hours alive. Once I got over the idea of having to spend all that time in shops, it was actually quite enjoyable. I took my time selecting my gifts for once. I found a really nice necklace for Mom. It would look great on her, I was sure about that. I got Bobbie the new watch she had been on about for so long. And to make things even better, I also got a really interesting book for myself. All in all, it was a successful day.

At 2 o'clock, I was finished with my shopping. I strolled around the mall, trying to pass the last hour when I bumped into Bobbie. She was carrying at least fifty different bags, and looked as if she could do with some help carrying them.

"Let me get those bags, Bobbie," I offered, but she shushed me away.