Twenty Third Of December - Part One
Violet
I love Christmas.
It’s the one time of the year when I get everyone to sit together without distractions.
There are no phones, no laptops and no video games.
Christmas is about family, and I emphasise on that every year.
We bake cookies, prepare gifts, and even have hot chocolate with marshmallows in the evenings.
But things have changed over the last year, meaning things will differ from what they usually would.
Ella and Tilly now live apart from us. Ella moved out at the beginning of the year, and Tilly officially left only a few months ago before she gave birth to her little boy.
We now have little Isaac and Tilly’s dog Pepper, a little Australian Shepard with peppered fur and two different colour eyes like Ella.
Neither Ella and Daniel nor Tilly, Josh, and Rogan have accepted the invitation to stay on the property on Christmas Eve, which is saddening.
My favourite part is waking everyone up with a hot cup of cocoa and a beaming smile as I drag them from their slumber to the living room we barely use. That’s where I have all the stockings hung on the mantle above the fire—neat little velvet red stockings with our names embroidered in red.
I even went as far as to give Daniel, Rogan, and Josh stockings to show they belong here with us because I like to give them their socks from Santa, aka Mum. Me...
But I won’t get to wake them this year, so everyone must wait until the family is complete and everyone’s here to commence the one day we celebrate together without fail every year.
That’s what I say, but Zach thinks I’m being ridiculous.
He thinks we should let Ella, Daniel, Tilly, Rogan, and Josh decide when they want to turn up.
But I wonder if that’s only because he’s impatient and cannot wait to rip into his presents despite being a grown adult.
Either way, I will ensure I get my way.
“Mom?” Asher’s deeper and more masculine voice arouses me from my daydreaming; I drum my fingers on the worktop to distract my brain from the oncoming sadness of knowing my girls are living away. He’s given me the distraction I didn’t think I needed.
He’s quickly growing into a man, standing above me at nearly six feet. He’s not a baby anymore, and he sure acts like it.
We are supposed to be shopping today as he, like his father, leaves everything to the last minute.
We allow each child a five hundred dollar budget, and one of us will take them shopping to get their gifts.
Zach took Talya this year, Tyler took Atty, and Callum ended up accompanying Ella and Tilly just yesterday so that leaves Asher for me.
It figures, considering I’m his favourite parent.
“Yes, baby?” I ask, leaning up on tippy toes to clean the crumbs from the crevice of his lip.
“What do I get, Isaac? Does he even need a present? He’s not even two weeks old...”
“Of course, he needs a gift. Perhaps a rattle or an outfit. Maybe a small bear. We’ll have a look in the baby shops.”
“I hate shopping, mum... can you not do it for me?” He asks.
“Nice try, Asher. No, I cannot. You need to choose your gifts, baby.”
“Not fair...” he whines.
“How about this? You shop, and I’ll wrap? Isn’t that a good compromise?” I smile up to him.
“Not really. I prefer to dump the shit in gift bags than actually go shopping.”
“Language, son. Come on; gift shopping isn’t up for debate.”
I lead by example, walking down the hall to collect my keys to the mustang before I exit the house.
The air is chilly and bites at my skin, but I grit my teeth and sprint to my car, opening the door to get in.
Asher follows along dutifully, but I know he’s only doing so because he feels he has to.
Asher is my trouble child, and I say that because he’s righteous. He thinks everything should be placed at his feet because we can supply it without debate. He has no respect; no matter how hard I try to teach him some, he rebels.
Sometimes, I wish he had a reason to rebel like Tilly, but he doesn’t. His life has been easy and filled with more things than he could ever need or want, yet it’s never enough.
Carla says he’s just like Zach and that he must get it from him, but I’m doubtful.
Surely that isn’t a trait that can be handed down through genetics?
No, it’s because we haven’t set enough boundaries.
Yes, the kids have rules, but we, as parents, have never fully enforced them as a unit, leaving an inch for him to breach.
He breaches, generally with Tyler and me, because we are the pushovers, whereas Zach and Callum have taken the roles of enforcers.
It usually works with the other kids, but it doesn’t for Asher and, to some extent, Tilly.
We spend the morning shopping, flitting in and out of every shop, and despite what Asher claimed, he ends up enjoying himself. He showed me things he thought his sisters or brother would like.
And he’s grinning when he finds the perfect gift for Carla.
He’s a good boy under all that defiance. I just wish I could tap into his vulnerability and bring him out of the hardened shell that has thickened around him.
So, I spend most of my day helping my boy buy the gifts I’m now wrapping in my bedroom.
A promise is a promise and all that.
He even brought different wraps for each person, which made things easier.
I’m on my last gift when Zach taps his wrist at the walk-in door to announce himself.
“Yes?” I ask aloud.
“Asher told me you were wrapping his gifts. Can I come in?”
I look around, noting that I only have Talya’s left to wrap, so I smile and excitedly invite Zach in.
“Yes, the coast is clear.”
Zach enters the walk-in quickly to see the small pile of presents I have wrapped, and I laugh when he raises his eyebrows and questions me.
“I thought we made the kids shop and wrap their own presents.”
“We do, but I had to bribe our dear son to go shopping, and now I’m paying the price. But only one more, and I’m done,” I admit whilst taking the box of Talya’s staple make-up items to wrap.
I cut the paper, wrapped it around the box, and applied some tap to hold it in place before Zach finally touched me.
His tender kiss on the side of my neck has me melting on the spot where I sit, and I smile widely.
“I’ve missed you, Vi...”
“It’s only been five hours since you last saw me...” I note.
“That’s so long. You know how I am... I need tending to, baby.”
“Of course you do,” I laugh, folding down the last piece of paper before taping it.
I use the labels and pen to write Talya’s name, and then I push the gift aside.
Spinning, I turn to stare at Zach. He sat behind me, his legs spread while he leaned back to put weight on his hands.
He’s wearing nothing but jeans and a polo top.
No socks... fuck. Why does he do that?
“You look handsome sat there waiting for me, sir.”
“And you look beautiful with your hair hanging naturally down your back. Come here?” He demands with that smirk, his two very devilishly handsome dimples calling to me.
I crawl along the floor, sitting over his lap, where I find a delightful surprise.
“Someone’s ready and waiting,” I grin.
“Always when you’re around,” he retorts with a thumb stroke on my cheek.
It’s safe to say our lust for one another has never dwindled.
I’m not sure how we still have the stamina, especially with Zach being well into his fifties, but I dare say he’s even more robust and sex mad now than when we were younger.
And he’s savvier about it now.
He knows he has three people to tend to him, and he damn well makes sure he has us all at least once a day.
My favourite times are when I accidentally walk in on him and Ty or Cal.
I just stand there, peeping at them loving one another, and I find it incredibly hot.
Sometimes, I even get off at the same time before slipping away quietly without ever announcing my presence.
I have Zach to thank for that, too, for the ability to cum without making a single sound.
“Let me tend to that... it must be so painful to be that raging hard all the time,” I tease, pushing him back so he’s lying down.
I work my way down his body, unbuttoning his shirt so I can lick my way down his perfectly chiselled body.
He groans, which only eggs me on to undo his button and zip to find his cock pushing free only to tend his boxers.
“Oh, he does look needy; how long has it been? Three... four hours?” I tease, releasing his cock only to take it in my palm.
“So long...” he mutters despite us both knowing it’s probably been less.
“Maybe my mouth will come to use?” I whisper, reaching my tongue to run the length of him.
“Your mouth is more than useful... fuck,” he moans as I take him down to the back of my throat.
I suck at his length, taking it in and out of my mouth as fast and efficiently as possible.
“Slower...” he says, so I slow down, “that’s my girl; what a good little minx you are.”
I’m already creaming at the thought of him in my mouth, but hearing him call me my little pet name makes me moisten quicker.
He doesn’t allow me to get him off that way.
Instead, when he’s had his feeling of my mouth around his cock he pulls me up, kisses my lips and then dumps me on the floor.
“All fours,” he demands whilst riding his clothes out of his way.
I love to sit on all fours, leaving my panties for him to rip.
That’s his favourite part, you know?
He rides my dress up my back, circling my buttocks before bringing his hand down in a slight smack.
“Your skin always pinks so well,” he murmurs to himself.
“Are you ready, little minx?”
“Always,” I breathe.
“Good, ’cause this isn’t going to be soft, baby.”
He gives me no further warning. He thrusts so deeply in one move that I moan aloud as I jolt forward.
“Shh! Now,” he warns but doesn’t slow his pace.
He wasn’t lying. His need for me is so high that we’re both coming within minutes.
“Zach...” I moan his name as that familiar pleasure unfurls deep within my stomach.
“That’s right, little minx, milk me for all I have,” he hums through gritted teeth.
