“T’was the day before Christmas, when all through the house,
every creature was stirring, trying hard to arouse.
Stockings were applied to my legs with such care,
hoping their cocks could do me down there.
No one was nestled, snug in their beds,
but the desire to fuck me danced in their heads.
My pantie-less mother was first to arrive,
quenching upon me her sexual drive.
My sister would grab me and strung from my neck,
she emptied her bladder; I left not a speck.
She waxed me and ripped, oh how I screamed
Then left me hairless, just like I’d dreamed.
Then came my brother and pushed into me,
his girth of power, him smiling with glee.
He took me and claimed me, all in his greed,
Before he would shower me, wet with his seed
The sun on my chest, covered in cum,
lay tempting my aunt like a silent hum.
She licked me clean, then shoved down my throat.
When she reached her release, it was such silky coat.
The twins would arrive; they rode me in pair,
one at my face, the other down there.
Shaquila would cum, the same as her sister,
my mind went fluid, lost in a twister.
“Oh, Daddy, Oh Daddy, you do me so good!”
Making me feel like only he could.
I longed for another to take me as deep.
My mind drifted slowly and soon into sleep.”
***
My eyes shot open; Christmas had arrived. I ran into Tawnya and Stan’s room, much like I had done every Christmas as a kid, only they used to sleep in separate bedrooms. And I emphasize that they used to sleep.
“You’re hopeless,” Tawnya giggled through sleepy eyes.
Stan threw his pillow at me like he had done every Christmas morning for as long as I could remember.
“It’s Christmas!” I sang out loud as I dove into bed between them, “Aren’t you guys excited?”
“Excited?” Tawnya questioned, “I’m horny, I need to pee, I’m hungry, and I want to watch Aunt Chloe fuck you, so, yes, I guess I’m excited.”
“You need to pee now?” I asked excitedly.
She smiled, took my hand, and led me into the bathroom, where she had me lie on the floor. She straddled my face and released a mouthful of pungent morning pee into my mouth, watched me swallow greedily, and then filled me up again. Each time my mouth filled to the brim, her warm pee leaking at the corners of my mouth, she clenched and watched with hazed eyes as I drank her.
When she finished, she lowered herself onto my mouth and let me suck her clit, rocking her hips gently until she let herself cum in a deep moan.
“You’ve been such a good boy, my little dog. I believe Santa will shower you with gifts this year.”
We showered, and she let me lather her tiny body in soap. I loved the sensation of her small breasts, how her hard, perky nipples teased the palms of my hands. I could not believe the softness of her hands; the girl who had belittled me and tormented me for as long as I could remember now softly stroked my member. There was no malice in her eyes, only lustful heat glazing her stare as she kissed me and whispered, “I’ve prepared a special outfit for you today.”
Once we had dried ourselves, she led me back to her room. Stan watched in amazement as she dressed me in red nylons, red panties, and a bright red dress, knee long. The dress clung to my body like a glove, enhancing the curve of my butt and clinging to my slender chest.
She told me to sit at her dressing table and look at her. She applied her makeup on me with expert hands, making sure to accentuate all my female features and subdue my masculinity. She rustled my black locks and told me to look in the mirror.
I was a beautiful young woman, sensual and undeniably gorgeous. I radiated seductiveness, and I would dare any man not to desire me.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Tawnya whispered.
Stan hit the shower and left me to behold our sister’s mesmerizing routine.
I watched as she dressed. She had chosen green for herself: green stockings, a minuscule green skirt but no panties, and a see-through green blouse. Her bra-less, tiny breast poked clearly through the thin fabric.
I watched her apply her makeup, and she stood before me, tiny and beautiful. Her long black hair flowed down her body, accentuating the see-through quality of her blouse and stopping short of her perfectly round bottom. Her pale skin and deep, dark eyes were that of anyone’s fantasy.
Stan exited the bathroom, looking studly and handsome. He linked arms with both of us, treating us as equals as he escorted us to breakfast. His masculine scent and strong arms had my head spinning; I realized this was what the romanticizing of going to prom was all about. Being treated and spoiled, a queen in his eyes, and perhaps steamy hot sex in the deep of the night.
As we descended the stairs, the giant Christmas tree in the hallway greeted us, surrounded by a flourishing carpet of piled-high presents.
Tawnya scuttled through the piles and found a neatly wrapped box she handed me.
“I’ve been so excited to give you this, my little bitch,” she said, breathing with excitement.
It was Christmas, and being the youngest one, I took my role as Christmas morning child seriously as I tore the wrapping off. A harness and a big fucking dildo.
“This way, I can fuck you like Stan after you clean me in the morning!” Tawnya said excitedly.
Stan had got me a new collar and leash, along with an open invitation to visit him in the city whenever I wanted.
My gifts to them paled in contrast. Replacing the underwear I had soiled and ruined hardly seemed like a gift, and as every year, I was stumped for ideas when it came to Stan. Another yearly subscription to his book club hardly seemed thoughtful or innovative, but they both thanked me.
“Besides,” Stan said, “Becoming such a perfect little bitch to us is more than we could hope for. We always wanted a little puppy, right, sis?”
Tawnya smiled, then kissed him, then me, and again him.
Hand in hand, we entered the dining room; apart from Aunt Chloe, we were the last ones to arrive. Mother was gorgeous; her curls sparkled with life, competing with her shining eyes for attention. She wore a low-cut top, black with silver sparkles, and a matching skirt.
The twins each wore the tiniest of black dresses; their massive breasts threatened to burst through the fabric. The garment accentuated their curvy bodies, and the hem only stopped shy of their buttocks. Both wore their curls free and wild, their dark golden skin gleamed with body glitter, and their gentle touches signaled deep love.
Even Aunt Shelly seemed rejuvenated, although a more classic attire for the occasion, a simple red dress, elegant and classic.
Uncle George stood handsomely in his suit, almost matching his older and slightly bigger brother. Dad was a Greek god, and I ached for him.
Their chatter died as we entered the room; Tawnya, the temptress, elegant and sly; Stan matched Dad’s stature, handsome, elegant, and to die for.
Me? I was the shy girl next door who had blossomed into a delicate flower, and I could feel it emanate of me: true beauty. As I sat down, I brushed the stray lock of hair from my eye, blushed slightly at Stan’s chivalry of holding my chair, and smiled my best smile at everyone. Tonight, Stan sat between Tawnya and me.
Not even Aunt Chloe’s entrance moments later could outshine mine. She was a goddess, her deep wine-red dress with the split down the side, all the way up to her hip, and the deep, diving neckline of her dress, almost down to her navel. She owned the room with the elegance of a gazelle, but still, she could not outshine my entrance, for we had all seen her before.
Anabelle brought wine and ale, for such was the manner of our feast, a royal celebration of the holidays. We ate and drank; the more we drank, the louder our chatter rose. Aunt Chloe made sure my glass never ran out, complimenting me on how gorgeous I was, breathing heavier and hotter into my ear with each sip of her wine.
As Anabelle, who had also started participating in the celebrations, cleared the table, the twins began to dance. Shaquila led, and Monique followed, at first, a sensual wave of rhythmic flutters, a quick jolt of the hips, a swirl of buttocks. Their golden-brown skin glistened in the soft lighting, casting a mesmerizing sheen. Their synchronized movements, breathing, and subtle twitch and sway created a harmonious dance. The air was filled with palpable energy as their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, expressing a silent but powerful conversation through every graceful gesture.
Shaquila grabbed a bottle of wine from the table and drank in greedy gulps before letting the wine overflow from her mouth, pouring the rest down her neck and bosom. Monique met her in a deep kiss, then traced her sister’s neck with her tongue, drinking from her cleavage. The moment’s intimacy was accentuated by the glow that highlighted the curves and contours of their bodies, captivating every onlooker.
Monique let herself be spun around and around until Shaquila grabbed her dress by the neck and ripped it off her body. An almost inaudible gasp went through the room, not out of shock but in absolute awe at her beauty.
Monique spun her naked glory one more time before she let herself be pushed on her back onto the table.
“Oh, God! What happened to you!” Aunt Shelly gasped, seeing the golden letters dangle from her daughter’s nipples, the gauze on her tummy, and her still swollen clit.
“She got claimed, Mother,” Shaquila said with a grin, “And if you don’t let go of that prude façade, I will claim you as well.”
Aunt Shelly wasn’t allowed to reflect on Shaquila’s words; she felt her daughter grab her by the back of her neck as she allowed herself to be pushed down between Monique’s legs.
“Eat that pussy, Mother!” Shaquila was truly terrible, but if you expect shock and terror upon her audience, you haven’t paid attention to my story.
Shaquila pulled her mother’s dress up and tore her pantyhose at the crotch, then spread her wide.
“Would you do the honors, Uncle Gerald?” Shaquila said with a sly smile.
Dad looked at Mom, whose reply was a glazed look and a devilish smile.
Dad took his wife’s sister, who lapped greedily at her daughter’s cunt.
“Yeah, Mom, take that fat cock, just like she did down in the cabin. Hard and deep. You truly are a little slut, aren’t you, Mom?”
Mom sat back and spread her legs, her hand rubbing softly at her crotch, watching her husband slam into her sister. She crooked her finger, motioning for Uncle George to come to her. As he crawled in between her legs, she wrapped them around him, her pinky at the corner of her mouth, watching her sister cum around her husband’s fat cock.
Shelly had always desired their brother, and Patricia loved sharing, but just like Tawnya had claimed her brother for her own, so had she. In return, Gerald had given her three beautiful children, who had finally come to terms with their desires.
She had been saddened to see her sister’s marriage go to waste, but more so, she dreaded what she had become since the ugly divorce, which is why she had convinced George and Chloe to take her under their wing, or as Chloe put it, “Fuck the bitch out of her.”
She looked at her precious Tawnya as she slid onto the table, spread her legs, and grabbed her twin brother by the head. She let out a moan as Tawnya pulled him into her wet mound. She was so petite, and he was so big; Patricia desired so much to watch him take her. Tawnya and Stan had happened so naturally; they had always been joined by the hip.
Then there was him, her youngest, who had wandered the earth so confused only days before. Yes, she had seen him that night as she came hard on the kitchen table, and she had recognized his lustful stare was not at her but at his father. Anabelle had told her how her little boy had cum in a heap on the stairs. She recalled telling Gerald their boy was ready but that she suspected he might enjoy him more than he would her.
This morning, he was so beautiful; something was spellbinding about him, not quite male and not quite female, but absolutely gorgeous. And under that pretty façade lay a cum hungry slut who loved nothing more than to please.
She watched Chloe get up; her dress didn’t even try to hide her fantastic cock. Patricia felt a tremble trailing down her neck, tickling her spine and jolting at her crotch at the thought of how many times her own greedy cunt had cum from Chloe pounding her.
Chloe kissed her deeply, then stood on her knees behind her docile husband, Patricia’s younger, unwanted, and discarded brother. She had felt bad for George; neither she nor Shelly had desired him like they desired Gerald, but Gerald had desired him. And when Chloe had fallen for his silky bottom, Patricia had let go of her guilt.
Patricia had seen Chloe reach around her husband and relieve him of his pants many times. She knew as soon as Chloe pushed into him, he would suck on to her clit hard before releasing a guttural groan.
She watched Anabelle enter the room, and she winked at her and smiled. At sixty-four, she was still a woman of need, and Gerald had fucked her every Christmas for as long as she could remember. Anabelle had only been in her late twenties the first time they had snuck into her kitchen and caught a glimpse of their father taking her. Even then, they recognized a man leaving her woman unfulfilled, so Patrica had Gerald take her, and she whimpered as he made her cum.
Patricia loved watching him fuck other women, but seeing him take other men scrambled her brain. He would make them cum harder than she’d ever seen any man cum. Sharing their brother between them had always brought her to new heights.
Now she watched her husband slip out of their sister’s dripping cunt, lift their housekeeper onto the table, gently lift her skirt, and slowly feed her his giant meat. He was a gentleman; all his focus was on giving Anabelle her much-deserved release.
Aunt Shelly panted, still sucking on her daughter’s clit, much to Shaquila’s delight. Aunt Chloe pulled out of her husband and shoved herself deep inside Aunt Shelly, making her cum almost instantly. Chloe discarded her, pushing her to the floor before thrusting herself into Monique, making her squeal.
I watched Mom grab Uncle George’s head and whisper in his ear. He stood, facing Shaquila, and she smiled before turning around, bending over the table, lifting her skirt, and inviting him to seize her. She found her sister’s hand and squeezed it hard as they both were taken, their stares locked.
Tawnya’s hand on my head made every hair on my body stand, what was left of it anyway; goosebumps prickled my skin as she grabbed my hair and pulled me onto the table. My face met Monique’s, and she kissed me, begging me to pinch her nipples. Her breasts jiggled and waved with each of Aunt Chloe’s thrusts inside her, and she whimpered as my fingers squeezed around her sore nipples.
“That hurts so good. Do it again, and make me cum.”
Their groans and moans started to synchronize. Anabelle, Monique, and Shaquila formed a formidable choir, responding melodically to the steady rhythm of the bodies slamming against theirs.
I felt Stan’s hands on my thighs as he found the hem of my dress, and I felt my heart pound as he lifted my skirt over my ass. He was ever so gentle, pulling my panties down, and his hard cock teased at my hole so long I pushed myself onto him. I watched Mom standing beside the table, taking in the scene with sultry eyes. She found my gaze, and without letting go, her hand found her crotch, and she started rubbing herself.
Stan found the rhythm of the others and soon made me join in the moaning choir; our voices echoed in my head.
“I will let him cum inside you today; ’tis Christmas after all,” Tawnya whispered in my ear, “Can I suck your cock?”
Tawnya’s query wasn’t a question; regardless, my brain ticked all the answers: yes, yes, yes, and yes.
By now, Mom had joined the choir, rubbing herself into a frenzy as she watched her oldest son take me.
Tawnya slid herself off the table, and it didn’t take long before I felt her lips around me, her greedy mouth feeding her even greedier throat. Our symphony filled my head, and I was the first to break out in a solo song, trailing off the harmonized melodies of our voices and into a high-pitched squeal as Stan made me empty myself deep down in our sister’s throat.
This egged Monique and Shaquila on and over the edge, but their orgasms were a synchronized cascade, starting as a guttural growl and ending in a high-pitched squeal that filled the room. And still, the bodies slamming into us kept their steady rhythm, a marvelous backdrop to Anabelle’s sulking serenade, as her body started trembling, shaking as she arched her back and wrapped her legs around Dad, cumming like a teenager in heat.
Stan spun me around and lifted my legs to his shoulders as he pounded into me again. Tawnya resurfaced from underneath the table, cum running from her nose.
“That was fucking excellent, dog! You taste so yummy; remind me to suck that cock again sometime soon!”
As Dad, Aunt Chloe, and Uncle George slowed down and finally pulled out of their pleased pussies, Stan remained the sole drummer-boy,…