Never Let Grandma Buy Gifts

"Yes, we should WebMD this shit," Mary said, quietly. "...no, not Pornhub, WebMB. W. W. W. W. E. B-" She stopped as I brought up my favorite clip from Pornhub -- the fucking astounding Kira Noire. She was riding a dude in the clip, moaning and gasping...and my eyes kept drifting down to where that huge cock plunged into her pussy. My mouth started to water as I felt the familiar tang of jealousy burn inside of me. Why should she get that dick, I could-

"Auuuuuuuuuuuugh!" I put my hands over my face. "I'm straight!"

"Lame," Mary said, shaking her head. "But I've long since come to term with you being boring."

"No, I mean...straight for a girl!" I whimpered.

Mary blinked. "Dude. You like dick now?"

I slammed my head into the desk.

"...noice..." Mary whispered.

"Not helping, bro," I whispered.

Mary rubbed her palms together. She held me out of my seat and tugged my shirt up and off. She regarded my breasts as I stood mutely before her, trying to process this. How had this happened? What had happened? But Mary had an idea: "I think, like, the game must have convinced your brain that it was so real that your brain made it real." She cupped one of my breasts, squeezing it slightly. "Cause you always play chicks, right?"

I flushed. "Why are you groping me?"

"To see how easy it'll be to bind these-"

And this was where we both made tactical errors. I had made the error of groaning, gasping, and crying out in shock. And banging my head into the desk. And Mary had made the error of testing my boob's bindablity by groping the fuck out of me. And both of us had forgotten two super fucking important details.

Grandpa was a Vietnam vet. Meaning he slept lightly.

And Grandpa was not deaf.

The door to the room burst open and there stood Grandpa, scowling down at the two of us from his immense height. "Slattern!" he snarled. Mary opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "You've already shamed us once, but now!? ON CHRISTMAS!?" He boomed, then grabbed my wrist in a grip like iron. I yelped and tugged at his wrist, trying to get out of the grip, but it was too late. He grabbed my shirt from Mary's nerveless hands, then dragged me -- and I mean fast. He dragged me past doors opening, confused relatives emerging, past Mary shouting after him, trying to explain. He dragged me all the way to the front door, which he flung open.

I found myself standing in the 40ish degree temperature outside, with rain water still dripping from every building and glistening on every road. Fog blurred the air before my face and I turned around to find Grandpa glaring down at me like some fire and brimstone preacher. He thrust his finger at me.

"I never want to see your filth around here again! And take that damn make up off!" He flung the shirt into my face, which slapped against me. "If you return, I'll have to get my gun."

And the door slammed in my face.

I whimpered -- and then heard a distant police siren.

So, you might go: Henry, you should stay. Explain stuff. They'd piece it together eventually. But right then, I was still reeling from the hammer blow of waking up as a freaking girl because of a poorly designed video game. I was reeling from the follow up hammer blow of realizing I was into dudes. Like, in real life. And finally, I was reeling from the sheer scary force of my Grandpa's focused anger. And so, rather than trying to argue my case...I ran.

I scrambled my shirt on and I ran and I ran and I ran.

San Francisco at nine in the morning was not a great time to be in jeans and a T-shirt. The rain had stopped, but it was still Christmas. And while I'm sure all you polar bears out East or North are looking at me and sneering. Forty five degrees? And it's not even raining? Scoff. But I was in a T-shirt. A thin T-shirt. My skin crawled with goosebumps and my whole body was shivering within moments. I rubbed my palms against my shoulders, whimpering slightly as I moved from running to just walking.

"O-Okay. Okay. Okay." I whispered. "Wake up. Wake up any second now..."

I put my hand on my cheek, pinching it. Nadda.

"Argh!" I whispered, then slid my hand to my hair, brushing it back behind my ear-point.

I stopped dead.

"What the absolute flying fuck?" I whispered, my finger gingerly prodding against my ear. I looked around and saw a Chinese restaurant that was still closed. The inside was dark, meaning that the brighter outside light provided a perfect mirror. I ran forward, craning my head. But no. It was definitely the case. My skin was still my normal pinkish hue, but my ears were definitely pointed. I looked like a freaking Christmas elf sans the slutty Santa outfit. I quickly started to fiddle with my hair, thanking the god I didn't believe in that I had enough hair to hide my ears. Okay. Ears hidden.

I wandered.

I wandered for a long time. I kept moving to try and keep myself warm, but really, I just wandered because I had no idea what to do or where to go. I didn't have my phone. And I just...I didn't know what to do. My mind kept driving back to Havok and that stupid game. But mostly Havok. Hey, it was keeping me warm, wasn't it?

As the sun slowly rose and more pedestrians came out to enjoy the end of the rains, I found that I had wandered into the part of the city that was dominated by shopping places, rather than homes. My legs ached and I needed a moment to just...to just think. I stepped up to an alleyway and leaned against the wall, shivering.

"Change? You got change ma'am?"

I looked over at the bum that had emerged from the shadows like a demon from the underdark. I never liked giving change to bums. It wasn't that I thought they didn't deserve help. It was just I had so little personal money, and what little I had couldn't do enough, could it? This bum let out a great big cough as he stepped over, holding out his hand. My brow furrowed.

"That cough doesn't sound good," I said, quietly.

The bum laughed. "It's all-" he coughed and coughed and coughed again. I reached out reflexively, placing my hand on his shoulder. I wished I still had those magical spells -- that healing spell had to help, right?

Which was when the green light flared around my hand. It sank into the bum's jacket and he breathed in. But this time, the sound didn't seem as ragged or phlemy. He didn't cough again as I smiled, slightly. "Hey, uh, I don't have any money, but...have a good Christmas."

The bum nodded and started to amble off again. He didn't cough again. I kept watching him, then looked at my hand. My teeth sank into my lower lip as I considered. Okay. Two impossible things was one thing, but three impossible things? I narrowed my eyes and focused...and the flare of red light of the firebolt spell appeared on my pointer finger. I gulped and relaxed my focus. The pointer finger glow faded away and I breathed out slowly.

"I have magic," I whispered.

My stomach agreed by growling like a live animal. I made a face.

***

I pushed open the door to the soup kitchen, gulping as I looked around. There were a lot of homeless people sitting at their tables, hunched over their soup bowls, spooning the food into their mouths. The smell filled my stomach with a ravenous snarling sound. I put my hand over my belly and started towards the line that went before the soup in the back of the room. That was where the steam was coming from, and where the clink and clatter of dishes could be heard. I kept my pointed ears cocked, and as I walked past the table, I touched a person here, a person there, trying to be subtle about it.

Green flare. Green flare. Green flare.

And then I was at the line, my knees feeling weak. And it was not because of a boy. I guess I was out of mana. But...I didn't know how to get any mana back. I frowned, putting my palms on the railing before the kitchen, waiting for the guy getting his bowl filled to move along. I shifted over once he was gone...

And my knees turned to water.

The man operating the bowl was...uh...

Uhhh...

He was a latino man, with dark brown eyes, warm brown skin, and hair as black and silky as midnight. God. Had I just said that? Had I just thought that? Then those eyes met mine and he smiled slightly and I was glad that I was leaning against the counter that ran along the wall because my knees weren't just water, they were flowing water. My legs quivered as I saw, even under the shapeless apron and bright orange shirt that this soup kitchen deemed mandatory, he was muscular and gorgeous. I just...wanted to rub my face shamelessly against his abs. And because I had earlier lit my heterosexuality on fire, I was fucking hard to not just lean into the urge now.

I tried. I coughed. "H-hey, uh, I...I got kicked out of my...home..." I trialed off, realizing how that sounded. That made it sound like I was either a turbo-bitch or super-gay. Which was good! It'd mean that he wouldn't flirt with me because the last thing I wanted was to fuck the soup kitchen guy, no matter how fucking dreamy he was.

The Latino guy grinned at me. "Are your parents like, Grinches or what, chica?"

God, speak Spanish to me more. I tried and failed to not giggle like an idiot. "Total uber-Grinches. But..."I looked back, biting my lip. "I'm not super hungry. I just need a little. You know, I don't want to steal any...any..." I trailed off as Sexy Soup Guy slid a bowl to me. It was just as big as everyone else's. I blushed and smiled at him. "Thanks. Uh, Grace-ious?"

"Gracias," he said, then lifted his palm. "And now you say de nada, Jesus."

I blinked. "Your name is Jesus?" I asked, trying to pronounce it the way Spanish people do.

"It made me contractually obligated to be here," Jesus said, then winked at me. "Now go on, chica, get some soup down your face-hole."

I giggled uncontrollably again. "I...uh...thanks, Jesus." I waved, then turned. "I mean Jesus. Not...Jesus...I..." I hurried to the table, running away from the way his laughter made me want to bend over a bed and thrust my ass into the air. I sat down at an empty spot in the tables, ignored by the homeless guys to either side of me, and started to chow down. Now, I was not a soup girl.

GUY.

I was not a soup GUY. I was a GUY. GUY. GUY. I tried to get that through my head, stirring the soup furiously as I did so. I was not a soup guy. But I was starving and I wanted to get my mana back. Maybe food would work. Food was how you got mana back in some old RPGs, right? I licked the bowl clean once I was done, then sighed. I looked at my hand, trying to make a bit of fire. Nada. I sighed, quietly. There were so many people I could help with magic, right? And...it was Christmas.

This was a time of giving.

I just had to figure out how to give and I could be a real proper fucking Christmas miracle.

Which would mean I'd have to tell Grandma that the porn game she accidentally bought me had been one blessed thing.

The soup kitchen did brisk business as I tried sitting around and resting, to see if that might regenerate my mana. The homeless population dipped and dipped, until finally, I was there without any magic, and with the only sound being the clatter and clink from the kitchen. I stood and walked slowly over, blushing as I craned my head around, peeking inside. I saw that Sexy Soup Jesus had taken off his apron and was starting to tidy up in the kitchen.

"Need any help?" I asked.

Jesus grinned at me, looking over. "I thought you'd never ask." He winked at me. "I saw you waiting, chica. Get your butt in here."

Five minutes later I was cleaning. Yes, CLEANING. Not having Jesus ram me against the counter. Get your head out of the gutter. Next to me, Jesus was drying the pots I was scrubbing. The water was hot enough to bake my skin, so I wore rubber gloves. They squelched and squeaked as I soaped up the dishes and tried to get the gunk off of them. Jesus, meanwhile, made chit chat.

"So, what's your name?" he asked.

And of course. The one question that was the hardest. Did I go with Henry? Henrietta? But that name was fucking lame. Then it clicked. "Etta," I said, nodding. There. Henri-etta. Etta. That was a good name. Etta. I liked it. I smiled shyly at Jesus. "Not quite as mythological significant as yours." I stopped. "E-Er, theologically, I mean!"

Jesus chuckled. "You're good at this, you know."

"Washing?" I asked.

"Putting your foot in your mouth," he said, smiling at me as I set the glistening pot down before him. He started to wipe it down as I flushed a bright red, ducking my head forward.

"I'd rather put you in my mouth..." I muttered.

"What?" Jesus asked, glancing at me.

"N-Nothing I'm straight!" I exclaimed, sitting up, my cheeks bright red. Jesus blinked at me, then grinned.

"Are you now?" he murmured. And god, his murmur was a kind of sensual, panther-like murmur that ran along my spine like playful fingers.

Fuck, I thought, even as I smiled at him.

"So, you don't have a place to stay for the rest of Christmas..." he said, then paused. "I...I know I shouldn't, but-"

"Yes," I said, immediately, my breath catching. Then, quickly, I added. "B-But, um, just until I get back on my feet. And I mean, this isn't...a sex thing." I blushed. "Y-You're cute, but I don't just sleep with anyone."

Jesus chuckled, grinning. "I didn't expect it," he said. "You're a cute girl, yes, but you need a place."

I nodded. "T-That's all this is. A place."

***

Jesus' place was not as fancy as my brother's place. It was just a small flat tucked away at the top of an apartment building. The flat was narrow and smelled faintly of cabbages, but I didn't care because my nose was mashed up against Jesus' chest and I was inhaling him. Jesus' hands cupped my ass, squeezing me as I kicked the door shut, leaving us in the half-dimnenss of his place. He squeezed me confidently, like he already owned my ass and he fucking did. I drew my nose away from his chest, my palms slipping underneath his shirt, my voice a quiet whimper.

"O-Oopse..." I breathed.

My fingers, though, were busy counting his ab muscles and wondering at their sleek hardness. Then Jesus caught my mouth with his. His tongue thrust into my mouth and I sucked on it eagerly as he staggered backwards, nearly tripping over a coffee table situated in the middle of the small living room that made up the center of the apartment. His rump fell onto a bed and I was dragged onto his lap. Well. I may have leaped. A little.

Okay, I leaped like a fucking wildcat, pinning him down as I kissed and kissed and kissed.

His hands cupped my head, sliding to my ears. Then he tensed as his fingers found my ear-tips and pinched curiously.

I sat bolt upright, almost tearing out of his hands, my mouth opening as I cried out. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" My hips twitched and I soiled my pants. Well. No. Not quite. I didn't...pee. Not...no. I...I panted, my cheeks hot red with shame.

I had just cum so hard that I had...squirted...

A lot.

Jesus flicked on the lights, sitting up, his eyes wide. He was gaping at me, his shirt half peeled up, showing off his gloriously dusky abs. He looked at me, as I smiled shyly, not quite sure how to explain: So, Jesus, I am apparently an elf now! Yeah, that'd go over well. His hand reached out and he wonderingly pushed my hair back, showing off my ear. He whispered. "Jesus Christ..."

I gulped. "I-I can explain!" I said.

"Were you born with them?" he asked.

I blinked. Then, blushing, I nodded.

"They're-"

"Weird, I know!" I blurted out.

"Bella," he whispered.

I blinked as he leaned forward. His voice was hot in my ear, his lips caressing the tip. "That means beautiful." I whimpered, my back twitching as I think I came a second time from the words alone. I leaned into Jesus, nuzzling his neck. I lapped at his skin, tasting his sweat, his maleness. My palm slid along his belly and started to roll his shirt up more and more as I whispered.

"You're bella."

He chuckled. "That's the feminine-" he paused, lifting his arms as I managed to get that shirt up and fucking off. "-version of the word."

"Fine, bellhim!" I said, shoving him back. I used every bit of my strength and was helped by the fact that Jesus did not even fight. He let me pin him onto his back, grinning up at me. "I...I want to suck your cock, okay!"

"So romantic..." he purred, his eyes glittering with delight. "Please, chica, don't let me stop you."

I flushed, then grabbed his pants. My fingers fumbled as I worked at him. A tiny part of my mind cheeped at me: Your parents are going crazy trying to find you, and here you are, about to down to every single bad thing Grandpa ever said about your long fucking hair. You're about to suck a stranger's cock.

And I was excited about it. I was so excited that it took me three tries to undo the button. Jesus, despite his grin and his casual air...was tense. He looked at me with baited breath and I smiled shyly at him. "Y-You don't do this much, do you?"

He shook his head as I finally got his belt out of the loops. The raspy noise leather made when being tugged through the loops on jeans was possibly the most erotic noise I had ever heard in my life up to that point. It meant that I could start to tug his jeans down. And tug I did, and Jesus arched his back, tightening his delicious belly muscles so that I could get the jeans up and off his butt, then off his ankles and there he was, bulging in his tighty whiteys.

I licked my lips...

And in a moment of daring, I leaned forward. My eyes transfixed his warm brown ones and I didn't let them go as I sank my teeth into the elastic of his underwear...and tugged. I tugged sloooowly back, my nose flaring as I breathed in his aroused scent. It made my whole body shiver...and then his cock popped free. It wasn't the obscene length of the fictional orc's, but I didn't care. By now, I was so fucking turned on, he could have had a pinkie and I'd have cum from nuzzling it alone.

Not that he was small.

Oh no.

Not small at all. I kissed the side of his cock, shyly, my palm sliding forward to cup his balls. Jesus let out a low groan, and before he could shift his posture or move his head, I had gone from kissing the side of his cock to taking the head into my mouth. Bye heterosexuality. By and good fucking riddance. I closed my eyes and sucked on the tip of his cock, feeling his pre-cum spurting along my tongue. It was thick and it was delicious and I wanted more. I pushed forward, my throat opening eagerly. I didn't feel a gag reflex, and soon, my lips were pressed to the faint curl of his pubes.

"Dios mio," Jesus groaned through clenched teeth.

I drew my mouth sloowly back, slurping on every inch, then gasped as his cock popped free. "W-Would you believe you're the first cock I've sucked?"

"No!" Jesus exclaimed through a peal of laughter.

I grinned. "Well, it's the gospel truth."

And with that I went to town on him. My tongue swirled around and around his cock as my hand pumped the part I wasn't sucking and slurping on. My other hand palmed his balls, squeezing him eagerly and I moaned as my tongue teased the glans that filled my mouth every time I bobbed my head back. There was a kind of pure delight in sucking a man's cock, one that filled me with joy every time I looked up into his eyes.

It was the season of giving.

And this giving was good.

Jesus' hands gripped my hair and he pushed me back, stopping me from continuing to suck on him. I panted and my tongue lolled out, trying to get just one more lick. He laughed, nervously, then murmured. "Chica, I don't want to cum in your mouth."