by Art Martin
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted 2003, 2004 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted.
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Ah, Christmas!� The tree, the trimmings, the lights, Alvin and the Chipmunks, Santa Claus and of course the presents. I suppose that�s what most people remember about Christmas when they were very young.� Here in my middle years, thinking back, one Christmas comes to mind above all others.� It was a Christmas that was indelibly etched into my young impressionable mind.
I was in first grade, maybe all of six years old.� We were living in rural Florida at the time.� This was when there was still a rural Florida.� Growing up in Florida, I never ever saw snow, but I would always hope, not realizing what a disaster snow would actually be.� I just wanted the stuff to make a snowman and throw snowballs at my little brother like every other American kid I saw on TV.�
But one thing really bothered me, and bothered me greatly, was that we didn�t have a fireplace.� I also worried on how Santa would land on the red tile roof without any snow, but mainly I worried about how he was going to get into the house.� I asked Mom and Dad about this and Dad told me not to worry about it, �Trust me, Willy.� Santa won�t have any problem.� No problem at all.�� Being thus reassured by the two smartest people on earth, I was placated and didn�t worry TOO much.�
That year my Uncle Ned (my dad�s brother) and Aunt Sally came to visit with their two kids; Tim, who was eight months older than me and Beth who was six months older than Teddy, my little brother, who was not quite a year younger than me.� It was all very exciting.� Not only was it Christmas, but I was thrilled to see my two cousins.� Actually I didn�t give a hoot about seeing Beth, she was a yucky girl, but Tim, he was fun.
Teddy and I shared a bedroom and of course Tim stayed with us.� My Dad simply pushed the two twin beds together and made a larger bed for us boys.� Uncle Ned and Aunt Sally slept in the guest bedroom along with Beth who slept on a palette on the floor at the foot of their bed.
Christmas Eve came and I remember how our parents where having a good time.� I knew enough at the time to know that the stuff they were drinking was making them all very goofy.�
Bedtime for my brother and me was normally at eight thirty, whether it was a Monday night or a Saturday night, it didn�t matter, it was off to Never Land for us.� That night we got to stay up late.� We were all thrilled when Dad announced that we could stay up until nine thirty, provided that we drank all of our eggnog.� Tim, Teddy and Beth drank all of theirs, but I didn�t like it and when no one was looking, I poured mine down the toilet.�
Beth and Teddy didn�t make it past nine and Tim was out by nine thirty.� I of course went to bed with visions of the grand things that Santa was going to leave under the tree that night.
The adults were having a good time. I could hear them laughing and sometimes a shout, followed by hushed silence, then talking and the laughter would resume.� As I lay there, I began to worry.� Just how was Santa going to get into our house?� I lay in bed for a long, long time thinking about this.
The door to the bedroom opened and my mother looked in.� I lay very, very still, pretending to be asleep.� Tim and Teddy were unconscious.� Mom giggled and said to someone, �They�re all asleep!�
�I told ya�ll the eggnog would knock them out,� said my uncle with a laugh.� Then Mom gently closed the door.
I lay there, wide awake, still worrying about how Santa was going to get in.� After a while, I noticed that the laughter and the talking had died away.� It wasn�t long afterward that I decided that Dad must have planned to leave the door unlocked for Santa.� That satisfied me, but then I began to worry if my Dad had remembered to unlock the door.� The more I thought about that, the more I worried, because I knew that when Dad was juiced up, he usually didn�t remember a lot of things.
I decided that I had better make sure that the door was unlocked.� Trouble was, if I got caught sneaking around past bedtime, I knew from past experience that I would surely get an ass blistering that I wouldn�t soon forget.� My young mind weighed the pros and cons of my planned course of action.� Eventually I decided that I�d better risk it and check the door, lest we miss Santa�s visit altogether.
Quietly, so as to not disturb my sleeping brother or my cousin, I slipped out of bed.� Cautiously, I opened my bedroom door and listened.� The only sounds I heard were some noises coming from my parent�s bedroom.� I�d heard those noises before and figured that the coast was clear.
I slipped down the hall to the living room and looked in.� The living room was lit by the glow of our brightly decorated Christmas tree.� There on the sofa was Uncle Ned, buck naked, groveling atop my equally naked mother!� I knew it was Uncle Ned because he still had his Santa hat on and I could see the side of his face momentarily.� I couldn�t see Mom�s face, but I knew it was my mom because she still had on her red fish net stockings and the red high heel shoes that my Dad called �slut slippers�.��
Now, I had seen my mom naked before, my dad too, lots of times, but this was different�� I didn�t have a clue as to what my mom and uncle were doing, but figured that they were �wrestling� like Mom and Dad did sometimes.� It bothered me though, because it sort of sounded like he was hurting her as his body slammed her, over and over again.�
I was about to run and go get my dad when Uncle Ned stopped bouncing on top of her and went into slow motion.� Mom�s grunts and cries stopped and she was kissing him all over his face, knocking his Santa hat onto the floor. I figured that if she was now kissing him, that he must not have been hurting her. I watched for a while, peeking around the corner as he slowly moved on top of her, making a strange smacking sound every time his butt was high in the air.�
Uncle Ned suddenly got off Mom and pulled her to her feet.� He sat down on the sofa, and pulling Mom into his lap, he started biting her tits while she held them to his face.� I clearly remember the sight her bare rump and Uncle Ned�s long boner sticking up between her legs.� Mom sat down and Uncle Ned�s boner went right up inside her!
By this time I had realized that there was absolutely no way that I could get to the door with them on the sofa like that, so I retreated back down the hall before they caught me.� On the way back, my curiosity got up.� If Mom and Uncle Ned were in the living room, who was in my parent�s bedroom?� That may seem self evident, but to a six-year old, it was valid question.� Seeing that the bedroom door was half open, I decided to take a look.
Quiet as a mouse, I looked around the partially opened door. The outside Christmas lights shone through the open windows, illuminating the bedroom in a soft colorful glow.�� There on the bed was Aunt Sally and Dad.� Like Mom and Uncle Ned, I could plainly see that Aunt Sally was naked as she lay on top of my dad.� I knew it was my dad, because I could plainly see his bald spot poking out under Aunt Sally�s butt and between Aunt Sally�s legs.� Dad�s hands were on her butt, prying her open as he licked her between the legs.� I couldn�t quite see what Aunt Sally was doing, but she appeared to have her face where my Dad�s wiener was.� Again, I watched for a few moments, trying to make sense of what I was seeing when Dad stuck his finger up Aunt Sally�s butt!�
Aunt Sally made some moaning noises as Dad played around with her butthole.� I couldn�t believe what I was seeing.� I knew that this was wrong and it was dirty, because Teddy and I had both gotten our butts blistered good for doing just that to each other!� Confused, I quietly slipped away.�
I was about to creep back into my bedroom when I heard hissing noises coming from the living room.� Again I cautiously peaked around the corner.� Uncle Ned was now standing, and my mother was kneeling in front of him looking up at him.� I could plainly see that she was putting his wiener in her mouth, taking it out, kissing it, and putting back into her mouth.� Uncle Ned was hissing, �Suck it, ya fuckin' slut bitch!� Suck it!��
I had heard those words before.� I�d heard my dad say them to my mom on more than one occasion when they were �wrestling� and they didn�t realize that I was around .� I didn�t know what the words meant, but I did know the words and I knew that they were dirty words, not to be ever repeated by me.
I watched for a while, wondering why she would lick and suck on Uncle Ned�s wiener like it was a lollypop.� Uncle Ned threw his head back, his face twisted up something awful.��� He grunted, �Aw, fuck! I�m a comin', ya cock suckin' tramp whore!�
Mom pulled away, giggling, and as his stiff wiener cleared her lips, something shot out of it and onto her face.� Laughing she turned her head and saw me!
�Oh, my God!�� she shouted, her smiling face changing instantly to one of alarm.� She tried to leap to her feet, but Uncle Ned grabbed her by the hair and stuck his squirting wiener back into her mouth.
At the same time, Uncle Ned saw me.� �Oh, fuck!� he cursed.� �God damn it!� God damned fuckin' kids!�
Not waiting for either Mom or Uncle Ned, I high tailed it back to my bedroom, and jumped into bed with a boner without waking either Tim or Teddy.� My eyes were tightly shut in mock sleep, but I heard the door opening.
�Which one was it?� asked Uncle Ned in a whisper.
�I�m not sure,� relied Mom in a whisper.
�What�s going on?� I heard my dad ask.
�One of the boys.� One of boys saw me and Ned.�
�Are you sure?�
�Yes, I�m sure.�
�Which one?�
�I don�t know!� They all look so much alike!�
There was long pause.� �Well, don�t worry about,� said my dad.� �If any of them ask, just say you were making Christmas magic for Santa.�
Santa Claus or no, I wasn�t about to risk getting caught again, and just trusted that Santa would find his way into the house.� Next morning, I realized that Dad, as always, knew what he was talking about.� I also saw first hand the power of �making Christmas magic,� when Teddy and I discovered that Santa had left us a Lionel electric train set under the tree!� Tim got one too!� Making Christmas magic for Santa sure did the trick.�
For the next several years, I often thought about what I had seen that Christmas Eve and the good things that came from it.� To this day, it still gives me a hard-on.�
I kept quiet about it and didn�t tell anyone what I�d seen that night, until I was twelve.� That�s when I discovered that cousin Beth wasn�t so yucky anymore.�� But that�s another Christmas story altogether.