Date: Tue, 19 Jun 2001 02:34:23 -0700 (PDT) From: einhard Subject: Christmas quickies, pt. 3 Christmas quickies, part 3 (b/b, incest, oral) by einhard PLEASE NOTE: This story is fiction from beginning to end. The characters don't exist, and the things they do, never happened. AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is linked to the two "Christmas quickies" previously posted on Nifty. Also, but more loosely, to the "Easter quickie" and the "Spring quickie". I. This is Tom. You know, Randy's brother, one of the two twins who were in the second of the "Christmas quickies" and in the "Easter quickies". Well, we were in the first of the quickies from Christmas, too, but we didn't do a lot then. Randy and Charlie have been bugging me to write about what happened later on that Christmas Eve when we went to our grandparents' house. The time when Randy fucked me behind the marionette stage while the knights were fighting, remember? I didn't want to at first. Write about it, I mean, You see, I'm not half as forward as Randy is. Usually, I'm quite shy. "So how come you seduced your uncle so outrageously during Easter?" I hear you ask. What can I say? I was "compelled by lust". Also, I don't write as well as Randy. Well, I do, but it takes a lot more effort. Writing comes really easy to him, but I have to work hard. I do get just as good grades as he does, so the end result is probably no poorer, but there's a lot more work behind it. On the other hand, I'm more artistic than my brother. I can work the marionettes better, and I can play the piano a whole lot better. In my opinion, I sing better, too, but that's a close call. But you don't wanna hear about piano playing or singing. You might like to hear about how Randy responded to my challenge, though. You know, sucking me off under the table with the whole of the family sitting round us? Here's what happened. After the marionette show was over, and we were both dressed, we walked to the front of the stage and bowed. Everybody seemed really enthusiastic, and nobody noticed how red and flustered we were. Or if they did notice, they probably thought nothing of it. The sword fight had been a pretty energetic affair, after all. The next half hour was spent chatting and playing peacefully, with the women darting in and out of the kitchen, getting the food ready. It's not that we let the women do all the cooking, but a Christmas meal is such a big affair it's always left to those family members who handle these things best. Also, Grandma never did get used to having males assisting in the kitchen, except for peeling potatoes and stuff like that. Randy and I were sitting opposite each other. That meant he would have to slide under the table and cross over to me if he wanted to meet the challenge. Awkward, but not impossible. It was a whopping great table, which meant we weren't packed too tightly round it. Also, Grandma insisted on putting on the table cloth that her Grandma made a long time ago. In those days, they didn't believe in small, and this cloth always hung very low. That way, an adult wouldn't be able to see under it without going down on their knees. The meal progressed normally, and towards the end of the main course, the little ones started getting restless, like they always do. They stayed pretty quiet for a while, but as the table was cleared and laid again for dessert, there was no keeping them still anymore. Me, I hadn't said much after the performance. I guess I was pretty much in a trance, thinking about how Randy fucked me virtually in front of everybody, and about having my peter sucked off. Another great thing about this table cloth was that it concealed my throbbing boner. I almost said "throbbing, leaking boner", but it was only a couple of months later that it started leadking. At the time, Randy and I were still dry. Hey, we were only 11! We're 12 now. Anna, our six year old cousin, left the room, while her little brother Daryl (4) stayed under the table. I guess they were playing hide-and-seek. Then I noticed Randy slipping from his chair and disappearing, too. Shit! Was he gonna blow me with the kid watching? I almost bolted from my own chair, but since I didn't know what reason to give, I thought it best to do nothing. The adults probably thought he was joining Daryl in the game, and none of them thought twice about it, chatting and joking among themselves. Me, I was all trepidation. Part of me was hungering for Randy's hot mouth round my stiffy, part of me was terrified of being found out. I didn't have much time to worry about what to do, because Randy lifted the tablecloth gently, then pulled down my zipper. In seconds, he had manouvered my four-incher out of my fly, and I could feel him working it with his tongue. He couldn't get the whole shaft inside, not unless he pulled my pants and underwear clean off. I guess maybe it could have been done if he'd been more energetic, but that would mean getting caught. As those thoughts raced through my head, I felt the orgasm approaching. I can usually cum pretty fast (I'm young, you know), but this had lasted less than half a minute. To conceal my condition, I harumphed a little bit, and at once Mom's eyes were on me. Fuck! We were sure to be caught now! I squirmed in my chair, trying not to breathe too heavily, while at the same time the orgasm pulsed through me. Fortunately, it was quicker than usual. Intense, but quick. Just as Randy let his mouth off me, patting my cock once, as if to say "Well done!", Mom smiled at me. "I guess you're impatient to leave the table, son of mine" she said. "Okay, you may be excused." I reached down to adjust my still hard penis, which Randy had managed to lock up behind two layers of fabric. The zipper was up, too. As I left the table, Randy and Daryl emerged from under it, seemingly to go in search of Anna. I wandered aimlessly around the room for a minute, trying to gain control, then sat down to look at a magazine of Granddad's. Five minutes later, Randy, Daryl and Anna returned, all smiles. My brother came over to sit beside me, causing me to blush furiously. "Did ya like it?" he whispered with an evil grin on his mug. I took a big breath and turned to look at him. "Are you insane? You did that in front of Daryl!" I hissed. "He didn't see a thing. Besides, I only took you up on the challenge!" Randy was on the defensive now. What could I say? If Daryl had seen anything, he would have said so. Four-year olds aren't exactly known for their ability to keep quiet about interesting stuff that they see and hear. And it had been my challenge. "So, did you? Like it, I mean?" "I don't know. It was weird and intense, but I'm not sure if it was really good." The evil smirk returned. "Then let's do it again later tonight. I'll make it good, just wait." Oh, man! What crazy scheme was he up to now? The mind boggled. I think that's the phrase Dad would use. Well, living with Randy, there's frequent boggling, I can tell you. II. Dessert was an easy-going affair, as always. It wasn't really a dessert, just cakes and sweets, and people would eat it where and how they pleased. Randy and me sat together on the couch, alternately eating and playing with Daryl, who seemed obsessed with tickling us. We made sure he got a few shots in, much to his delight. After some eating and relaxing, Randy got up and whispered something to Granddad, and both of them snickered happily. Randy left the room, and Granddad stood up and clapped his hands. "Time for some more games, folks!" he shouted. Everybody called out, cheering and applauding. "I think you'll like it. Randy is just getting the Table." Even more cheers and applause, and then Randy appeared again, carrying the Table. Not that it's very impressive or anything. It isn't huge, or else Randy couldn't carry it. But it's a table Granddad uses for magic tricks now and then. One of the neat things about it, is that it can be fitted with mirrors underneath, to conceal whatever is there, without using a cloth or anything. If you place it just right, it can give the audience the illusion that they're seeing everything under the table. And the other good thing is that it has holes in it for people to stick their heads through. That's usuall good for a few laughs. I'll explain in a minute. Randy set up the table, which consists of three smaller sections, and when it was fully assembled, it was about six feet by two and a half. He then covered it with at table cloth, since the room we were in didn't really allow us to use the mirrors to full effect. And anyway, if you set up the mirrors while everybody is looking, where's the illusion? Granddad explained the game, and I remembered we used to play it sometimes when Randy and I were little. He'd put little boxes on the table. These would have one open side, visible to the people sitting in front, but not to anybody behind. Not unless they bent over. Then an object would be placed inside each, and somebody would be selected to stand behind and feel the object, trying to decide what it was. And inside one of the boxes was a head. The game only worked well if the person behind the boxes was unprepared for something like that, which meant one of the little ones would do it, and they'd probably need a stool or something to stand on. Randy and Granddad whispered together some more, before sending Daryl and his mom out of the room. After that followed some hustling around to find suitable objects. One was easy, an orange. The next, a jack-in-the-box kind of toy. You know, a box with a button, and when you push it, a clown pops out. The last two were for us. For Randy and me. He had arranged it that way, of course, and we both secreted ourselves under the table, where he took off one of his socks and instructed me to stick my head up one of the holes. I sat down on my knees and did what he told me, and he lay his head sideways on my lap and stuck his bare foot up through the other hole. He was able to lie pretty comfortably that way, and soon he was breathing hotly on my fly, stroking my ass on top of the pants fabric at the same time. The boxes had been covered with a small cloth, so nobody could see what was inside. Randy brought one hand to my crotch, stroking my hard-on with it. I was quickly falling into that haze of excitement that I love so much. We heard the door opening, and Daryl came in, accompanied by his mom, our aunt. Randy popped open my fly button. "Ladies and gentlemen!" Granddad announced loudly, loudly enough to cover the sound of my zipper going down. "The entertainment is about to begin!" My pants and briefs slid down as far as they could go in the position I was sitting. "Completely at random, one of your number has been selected to assist me. Please give a big round of applause to young Daryl." Everybody did, everybody except us two, that is, and Randy wet one finger, letting it slide along my crack, just teasing my hole a little bit. "Daryl has had the rules of the game explained to him, and an assistant has been detailed to help him. Another round of applause for the lovely Karen." As the applause sounded once more, and aunt Karen probably curtsied the best she knew, a wet finger penetrated me, a warm tongue licking the underside of my cock simultaneously. I concentrated on breathing as normally as possible. "And now I'm sure everybody wants to see the nature of the quest set for our intrepid Daryl." The small cloth was swept away, and I found myself grinning goofily at the small crowd, which erupted into wild laughter at once. I guess not so much at me, but more at the foot next to me. It was a novel twist, as far as I knew, and probably surprised most of them. The finger penetrated deeper, wiggling about a bit inside me, while Randy licked my hard boyhood like a popsicle. Well, not quite like a popsicle, because he had to lie pretty still, and I couldn't move much, either, but you get the idea. "Hmm". Daryl was trying to sound all thoughtful and grown-up, but it wasn't working, because he squeaked loudly the second his hands touched something. Randy lifted his head ever so slightly, and with his free hand forced my cock downwards, so he could take it in his mouth. I think I gasped a little, but luckily for me, all heads were focused on the box Daryl was working on. "It's big and soft, but a little bit hard, too. Is it a ball?" asked the childish voice, still lisping a little. Randy gingerly grabbed hold of two balls, kneading them carefully. He wasn't using much suction, and couldn't move his head a lot. Mainly tongue work, along with the finger trying to reach my prostate. He took the other hand off my balls pretty soon. I guess it was too much of a balancing act for him to use both his hands and his mouth on me and keeping his foot in place at the same time. "I know what it is, Mom!" Daryl happily exclaimed. "It's an orange!" The audience clapped their hands, whistling and calling out praise for the kid. Randy got into a rhythm with his finger, letting it dart in and out. I had figured out just how much I could lift my ass without upsetting the table, to make it a little easier on him. Scraping on the floor suggested that the stool was being moved along to the next box, and soon Daryl's running comments were heard again. "It's a little box. There's something here on the side...Aaaaah!" Randy pushed his fingertip viciously downward inside me, hitting my prostate hard. I know it's not fully developed inside me yet, but it's there, and it feels good when something touches it. I couldn't help gasping pretty loudly, but I don't think anybody noticed. They were much too busy clapping their hands. Daryl sounded like he was on the verge of tears for a moment. Small wonder; he must have had a shock. I guess the enthusiastic applause made up for it, though, because he eagerly demanded to have the stool moved again. I, meanwhile, was feeling the early warnings of orgasm. The tingle in my stomach and groin. Mmmmm. Randy was still using mainly his tongue directly on the cock-head. Daryl was in place over the third box, and I was getting nervous. I'd be cumming very soon, and what if I thrashed about? Would it make Randy or me topple the whole table? It didn't bear thinking about. Not that the thought stayed with me long. If the quick blowjob under the table was intense, this was worse. I guess it took a little longer than it did with the "under-the-table-job". For me to get off, I mean. Still, it wasn't long. "Hey, it moved!" Daryl sounded shocked and amused at the same time. Me, I just tried to breathe. This was getting dangerous; surely everyone would see my red face. And then it began. "It's warm, too. Eww, it smells bad!" Wild laughter erupted in the room, and the orgasm erupted down in my groin. I had to fight hard not to get up. As I succeded in sitting down, I could feel very clearly how the muscular contractions coursed through me. Even if it was just a finger in my ass, I sensed the hole clenching and unclenching around it, again and again. Also, the way my whole cock pulsed, from way down by the rectal opening all the way up to the sensitive head. Over and over and over, me gasping and shutting my eyes tightly all the while. "I can feel toes. They're wiggling! It's a foot!" Daryl's words seeped through to my hazy mind. Just. A final little contraction round the finger that still nestled in my behind, and I began my return to consciousness. Everybody was clapping their hands, whistling and cheering. Nobody looked at me. Whew! That was timing, and Randy deserved a reward for it. I thought I knew about something that he would like. The stool behind the table scraped along the floor, and the finger in my butt left its place. I guess I looked pretty red and flustered still, but that was only to be expected. The cheering wasn't any less as the little fingers handled my nose, ears and hair, but for me, everything that happened for the rest of the night was anticlimactic. That is, until we got home and Randy and I were alone in our room. This story is copyrighted by me, einhard, (c) June 2001. All rights reserved. Any comments? You can mail me at: einhard@excite.com