Twelve Days in Christmas

"I need you," she hissed. "God, I fucking need you!"

He was ready, and she'd been ready for days. She parted her legs, surrendering at last to her own desire. Brad sucked on her breast and fisted his cock, running the hot head of it along her dripping slit, coating himself and further teasing her. Now it was her turn to feel what he'd felt, all those nights, her body next to him, but unable to satiate his incestuous lust.

Only, it wasn't just lust, but deeper. He moved his mouth back up to her ear, kissed her neck, then slid his arms around her and held her. His cock pressed into her sex, slowly parting her delicate folds and making her gasp. She shut her eyes, gasped again as he slid into her, the feeling of his hot, hard length such a perfect fit for her.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear, and pushed deeper.

Christmas shook, jerked against his cock as the feeling of her pussy opening up for him sent a surge of delirious pleasure through her body. Two years, she thought. Two years since he'd come to the school, since he'd last been in her. It was every bit as beautiful as she remembered. The heat of him against her as he began to move slowly, deeply, his length buried inside of her, made her heart swell.

This was right. She kissed him again, a hot tear rolling down her cheek as her arms encircled his neck and drew him in. She gave herself over, submitting utterly to him, body and heart. She'd been right. The wait, the game, it had all been right. She was certain.

"I love you," she hissed.

Brad gave her deep, slow thrusts, his hips rocking gently, matching the movement of her body. Christmas clung to him, their tongues playing, his arms holding her in that embrace of safety. She knew that this is where she belonged. Not in the town, but with him. The place didn't matter, only the man, her man. Her safety. After all the years of doubt and worry, wondering what her future would hold, now she knew.

Her future was with him, with Sasha, with Leah. It was a future where the love mattered more than who it was with, and more than where it was. It was a future of friendship, where each of them was free to be who they were, her and Brad most of all. His pace increased and Christmas dug her nails into his shoulder, tossing her head back, her back arching as he took her.

"More..." she hissed.

He gave it to her, pulling back and feeding her his cock in long, deep strokes that had her panting and fireworks going off in her head with every deep thrust. One of his hands went to her ass, and then he was holding her, pulling her body into him as though he couldn't get deep enough. She trembled, shook, came for him, but he was relentless.

His grip was firm on her, like he was afraid she'd disappear, as though holding her to him would truly make them one. She wanted that, wanted him, more certain of it than of anything in her life. I belong to my hot brother, she thought, and came for him again.

***

The New Year

The house had sold quickly, despite the season, and now it was time to go. Sasha, Leah, and Christmas walked along Main Street one last time, quietly taking it in, burning that place that would always be home into their memories. They'd be back, she knew, because it was home. None of them could resist the pull of the snow-covered streets and the traditions. Leah and Sasha still had real family to come back to, after all. And her parents were here. Her mother would need fresh poinsettias.

Christmas herself, though she wouldn't ever tell the town the secret, would be happy to put on the mask and pretend for a little while, maybe once a year. She'd never really leave the town she'd been named after, born on the day that the town was named after. Because it was one of life's little oddities, but it was her oddity, and the town loved it, and loved her for it.

The three of them passed City Hall, where Jerry, the maintenance man, who despite all the years she'd known him, did not have a last name, screwed a new plaque next to the doors. They climbed the steps as he finished mounting it and he gave them a polite nod.

"It's a sound piece of work, Chris," he said and walked inside.

They stepped up and read the plaque. In carefully sculpted bronze, the script flowing, and now a permanent part of the town were the words, her words.

There's a little town called Christmas.

It's a place I love and know...