The Holidays Series

  I’m not even sorry about what happened last night since the events stopped me from dick puking, aside from the twenty questions I got from my mother about what I thought would be hotter—her dressing up as an otter or as a sloth to have sex with my father.

  “Either of you idiots have any more bright ideas about how I should tell Sam?” I ask, quickly cutting off Aunt Bobbie when she opens her mouth. “And it can’t involve sex, costumes, or live animals of any kind.”

  “You’re such a buzzkill,” Aunt Bobbie mutters, leaning forward and using a spoon to lift a purple egg out of the cup in front of her and holding it up for us to see.

  Snatching it off the spoon, I close my eyes and count to ten before speaking.

  “Aunt Bobbie, they do not include those wax crayons in the egg dying kits for you to draw penises on all the eggs. Are you forgetting that mom has the neighborhood kids come over to find these eggs after Easter mass?” I remind her, wondering how in the hell she got so much detail on such a small area.

  “So, we’ll tell them it’s Gonzo’s nose from the Muppets. Muppets are still cool, right? Kids are dumb, they’ll totally believe it,” she replies, picking up the wax crayon and going to work on another egg.

  When I don’t immediately say anything, she pauses and looks up at me.

  “I mean, not all kids are dumb. I’m sure yours and Sam’s will be brilliant,” she reassures me.

  “Noel thought Sam was cheating on her when he couldn’t reach the top of the mountain, when the whole time it was because of his blood pressure medication,” Scheva states. “And he put his foster brother, Fat Ralph, in charge of fireworks at their wedding, which went off early, almost burned Sam’s dick off, and lit half the wedding attendants on fire.”

  Aunt Bobbie nods, giving me a sympathetic smile.

  “Sorry, Noel. That bun in your oven is going to be dumber than a box of rocks.”

  Resting my arms on the table in front of me, I smack my head down on top of them and groan.

  “What did I hear about buns and ovens?” my mom asks, my head whipping up when she walks into the kitchen.

  I shoot Aunt Bobbie and Scheva a panicked look, hoping to God they keep their mouths shut. It’s bad enough they found out about the pregnancy before Sam, if my mother finds out, everyone within a two-hundred-mile radius will know within the hour.

  “Oh, Noel was just telling us about how Sam’s ass is hotter than an oven, and that she’s absolutely not bulimic,” Scheva quickly states, shrugging at me and wincing when I stare at her with wide eyes.

  “I drew penises on all the eggs but we’re just going to tell the kids they’re Gonzo’s nose,” Aunt Bobbie says, holding up an egg right in front of my mother’s face. “Look at the penis egg, Beverly, LOOK AT IT!”

  My mother takes a step away from the penis egg, shaking her head at Aunt Bobbie as she sets a box down on the table in front of us.

  “I finished counting and separating all the filled eggs by color. We had a few too many, so I emptied the candy out of them and put them in a box. Noel, do you want to take them home and use them for anything?” she asks.

  “OH, MY GOD, YES! YOU CAN USE EASTER EGGS FOR SAM!” Scheva shouts, grabbing the box and pulling it closer to her.

  She looks up at the questioning look my mother is giving her and laughs uncomfortably.

  “You know, for like, sex stuff. I don’t know where she’s going to be putting these eggs, but Noel wanted to spice things up in the bedroom with an Easter theme.”

  Aunt Bobbie reaches across the table and pats my arm.

  “Just make sure you use lube. Don’t tell me how I know what happens when one of those eggs opens up when it’s in a warm, dark place. Just trust me. Use lube.”

  Ignoring my aunt like she usually does, my mom praises me for how pretty the eggs look, giving me a kiss on the head before she leaves the room.

  As soon as she’s gone, I smack Aunt Bobbie in the arm.

  “Hey, what was that for? Scheva is the one who tried to cover things up with kinky sex. I was just giving you a safety lesson. You should be thanking me right now,” she insists.

  “As I was saying,” Scheva says, lowering her voice and leaning across the table closer to me. “You can use these eggs to tell Sam you’re pregnant. Grab some paper and a pen and write down ten things you love about him, and on the last piece of paper, write something cute about how your love is growing by two feet, due to arrive in...however many months you have left before you have to push that thing out.”

  I can’t stop the sappy smile that takes over my face as I push back from the table and go in search of paper and a pen. This is actually a cute idea. When all the kids at church are searching for the eggs filled with candy, I can have Sam search for his own eggs in a separate part of the lawn.

  It will be perfect and cute. All of my trepidation about how he’s going to react to the news leaves me in a flash as I sit back down at the table and easily write down ten things I love about him.

  6

  Goo

  Sam

  “This is the best Easter ever,” I tell Noel with a smile as I look up at her, grabbing her hips and helping her rock against me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  When we woke up a little bit ago, we still had over an hour before we needed to be at her parent’s house for Easter breakfast with the family before we went to church, and she suggested we kill some time before we got in the shower. She looked a little pale and like she wasn’t feeling well, but she quickly shed the tank top she wore to bed, flung her underwear across the room and climbed on top of me.

  Who am I to argue with that?

  She pushes up on her knees until my cock almost slides out of her, before slowly coming back down until I’m deep inside of her, making me moan with how good she feels. How good she always feels.

  “I’m fine, I swear,” she reassures me, answering my earlier question as she starts circling her hips until my eyes almost roll back into my head.

  Pushing myself up until I’m seated beneath her, I wrap my arms around her and she shifts her body without breaking our contact until her legs are around my hips. Sliding my hands down to her ass, I help her move as she drapes her arms around my shoulders.

  I push her up and down my cock, moving at a leisurely pace, bringing one hand between us and pressing my fingers to her clit. She throws her head back when I start circling my fingers as I thrust my hips up to meet her.

  “Oh, that wasn’t a good idea,” she suddenly mumbles, pulling her head back up, but keeping her eyes closed.

  My fingers stay still between her legs and I stop moving altogether as I look up at her.

  “You’re not fine, are you? You look really pale again,” I tell her, wondering why in the hell this cold and flu she’s been fighting just won’t go away.

  She immediately starts sliding her body up and down my cock again, giving me a reassuring smile.

  “Shhhhh, I’m fine. Just keep fucking me,” she whispers.

  There’s nothing hotter than Noel telling me to fuck her, and I start circling the tips of my fingers around her clit again, moving them faster when she starts to pant and her arms tighten their hold around my shoulders. My balls feel like they’re ready to explode with how warm and wet she is riding my cock and clutching the hair on the back of my head in her hands. Her hips start moving erratically and she whispers my name over and over as my fingers continue to play with her clit, pushing her closer to her orgasm.

  “That’s it, baby, let me feel you come,” I tell her, leaning forward to kiss my way up the side of her neck as I thrust up harder and faster.

  “Oh, no,” I hear her suddenly groan, making me pull my head back from her neck and stop moving again when I see her clamp her hand over her mouth.

  “What happened? What’s wrong?” I ask in a panicked voice.

  She drops her hand from her mouth.

  “You said come,” she states.

  “Um, I did indeed. Should I stop doing
that? I thought you liked it?” I ask in confusion, wondering what’s happening right now, and knowing for a fact blue balls is the way I’m going to die.

  “I do, I swear!” she reassures me. “It’s really hot. But, this time, all I could think of when you said it was…goo. Goo in my mouth, goo sliding down my throat…uggghhclch.”

  The sound that comes out of her is part gag, part I don’t know what the fuck, and her hand flies right back up to cover her mouth.

  “Okay, maybe we should just pick this up later on since you’re currently grossed out by my come,” I tell her as I start to pull her off me.

  She quickly clamps her thighs tighter around my hips and shakes her head back and forth, moving her hand away once again.

  “I’m sorry! I’m not grossed out by your come, just come in general. It’s fine, it will pass. Keep fucking me and I’m sure I’ll forget all about it in no time.”

  “Well, when you put it that way,” I tell her sarcastically, feeling my dick die a slow and painful death inside of my wife’s body.

  Grabbing onto her hips tighter, I finally manage to lift her off of me and move her next to me on the bed, watching my dick fall limply to the side in the process.

  “Are you mad? You’re mad aren’t you? I’m so sorry,” Noel whispers, and I can hear the tears in her voice.

  Turning towards her, I smooth her hair out of her face and lean forward to press a kiss against her forehead.

  “I promise I’m not mad. Just, in the future, can you give me a heads up if certain things I say are going to make you sick? That would be great,” I tell her, pulling back to smile down at her so she knows I’m not really mad.

  I’m horny as hell and slightly confused, but I’m not mad.

  “Oh, so I should just make you a list of things I don’t even know are going to make me sick?! I should be a fucking mind reader or something? Maybe you should have married The Long Island Medium if that’s what you expected from a wife!” she suddenly shouts, her mood doing a complete one-eighty from apologetic and upset to Satan himself.

  I sit in the middle of the bed with my mouth agape as she hastily slides off the mattress and stomps over to the bathroom.

  “MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN ME A FUCKING CRYSTAL BALL FOR EASTER!”

  With that parting shot, she disappears into the bathroom and slams the door closed behind her.

  “Holy shit, what in the fuck just happened?” I ask myself as I hear the shower turn on and I flop back onto the bed.

  The bathroom door suddenly flies open and my body jerks in fear when Noel pokes her head out of the door and smiles at me.

  “I love you. Call my mom and ask her if she needs us to pick up anything on the way to their house.”

  Noel blows me a kiss before closing the bathroom door and I stay perfectly still as I stare at it, afraid to make any sudden movements.

  It’s got to be this illness that won’t go away. It’s turned her insane. Hopefully after she showers and we get over to her parent’s house to start the Easter celebration, she’ll be back to normal.

  7

  You All Need Jesus

  Noel

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” Sam asks.

  His arm is flung over the couch behind me and he brings it forward to slide his hand under my hair and gently massage the back of my neck.

  “You don’t have to keep sucking up to me. I told you, I’m fine now. I was just having a bad morning,” I tell him, snuggling closer to him on my parent’s couch.

  I feel horrible about the way I acted earlier, but there was nothing I could do. One minute I was horny, the next I was nauseous, then I almost started crying, followed by screaming like a crazy person. This teeny, tiny little baby inside of me is already wreaking havoc on my life. I’m starting to get more and more nervous about Sam finding the Easter eggs and discovering what’s been wrong with me.

  “I’m not sucking up, that blue dress is stunning on you. But I’m happy to know you’re fine.”

  I let his words soak in, considering I feel bloated and disgusting in this Robin’s egg blue sleeveless wrap dress. It doesn’t help my confidence sitting next to my husband, who looks good in anything, and looks especially hot in a pair of slim, khaki colored dress pants, white button down, and suspenders.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to eat anything before church?” Sam asks, his fingers twirling a few strands of my hair.

  My mom went all out for Easter breakfast, like she always does. Pancakes, French toast, omelets, sausage, and hash brown casserole. I was starving up until the moment I sat down at the table and saw all the greasy food piled on plates in the center of the table on top of the festive Easter egg table runner. It took every ounce of willpower I had to keep my ass in my seat and not go running for the bathroom. I made up a lie about not being that hungry while I pushed food around my plate and prayed for everyone to finish eating as fast as possible so I could move away from the smell of everything.

  “Okay, close your eyes!” my mom shouts from the doorway of the living room as my dad, Aunt Bobbie, Scheva, and Alex come filing in, everyone taking seats around the room.

  “Mom, we don’t need to close our eyes, it’s fine,” I tell her.

  “Close your eyes or you don’t get your Easter baskets!” she orders.

  We all do as she says, quietly listening to her shuffle around the room, placing everyone’s baskets by their feet. My mom not only outdoes herself with cooking and decorating the inside of the house for holidays, she also goes over the top with presents, even on Easter, and she still gets all of us baskets even though we’re adults.

  “I wanted to wait until Nicholas, Casey, and Holly got here, but of course they’re with her family,” my mom tells us with a twinge of irritation in her voice. “I spent forty hours in labor with Nicholas and he doesn’t even care about his own mother on Easter. He’d rather spend his day with Holly’s family.”

  My mother makes this same complaint every holiday when Nicholas and his family go to his in-laws first. I’m hoping that she’ll stop bitching and just get on with things, but even after all the holidays Sam has spent with this family, he still hasn’t learned when he should keep his mouth shut.

  “Holly’s mom makes a delicious nut roll.”

  Everyone in the room quietly groans at Sam’s announcement, our eyes still tightly closed, no longer for the surprise factor of not seeing our baskets until it’s time. Now it’s just about self-preservation and avoiding the glare of death from my mother.

  “Oh, she makes a delicious nut roll, does she? I gave that woman MY nut roll recipe! MINE! So, technically, I MADE THAT NUT ROLL YOU THINK IS SO DELICIOUS!” my mother shouts.

  I feel Sam scoot closer to me on the couch, probably assuming I’ll shield him from the wrath of my mother, and I quickly inch away from him. I love my husband, but he brought this on himself.

  “I slaved in the kitchen for DAYS and everyone would rather eat my nut roll at Holly’s mom’s house! How about I give you a ride over there, Sam? That way you won’t be too tired TO BE A TRAITOR TO MY NUT ROLL!” she screams.

  “Speaking of nut roll, did I ever tell you guys about the time I used Peeps to give a hand job?” Aunt Bobbie pipes up from somewhere across the room. “Word to the wise, rubbing something covered in coarse sugar up and down a dick is never a good idea. Peeps are all soft and marshmallowy until you really get going. Poor guy. All that moaning he was doing…I thought it was because he liked it. Turns out, there was a lot of chafing from the sugar. Open wounds were involved. It wasn’t pretty. And then you have the whole uncircumcised thing. Peep sugar shmegma getting stuck under all that foreskin is bad news, let me tell you.”

  I hear her take a slurping sip of whatever drink is in her hand, and if we don’t get this show on the road right now so I can open my eyes, I’m going to throw up all over my mother’s couch.

  “Mom, I’m opening my eyes,” I inform her.

  “NO! Not until I say so!??
?

  “THEN SAY SO RIGHT NOW!” I argue, trying to think about anything but Peep sugar shmegma.

  With a sigh, she finally gives us the okay. “Open your eyes!”

  For the next couple of minutes, we all go through our baskets, oohing and ahhing over everything inside of them. We don’t just get chocolates and candy for Easter; we get stuff. Lots and lots of stuff. My basket is filled with my favorite makeup, perfume, shower gel, some new earrings, bath bombs, nail polish, and all sorts of things she knows I love.

  Once I get through everything, I look over at Sam and can’t stop smiling at how excited he is as he pulls stuff out of his basket. This is his second Easter with our family, and he still acts like a kid, practically bouncing up and down on the couch cushions.

  “Ohio State oven mitts, Ohio State magnets, a Cleveland Indians beer mug…oh, my God this is the best Easter basket I’ve ever seen,” Sam exclaims.

  “Lube, condoms, porn…Beverly, you have outdone yourself this year,” Alex tells her, setting his basket on the floor and getting up from his chair to walk over and give my mom a hug. “How did you know I’d been coveting that DVD of midget porn?”

  “It felt a little strange buying something like that on a religious holiday, but I knew you’d like it,” she tells him.

  “You’re doing God’s work, Beverly, that’s all that matters,” Alex reassures her before going back to his chair.

  While Sam is still preoccupied going through his basket, I lean over towards Scheva who is sitting in a chair next to me pawing through her own basket filled with similar items as mine.

  “Hey,” I whisper. “Did you and Aunt Bobbie get everything set?”

  After I stuffed the Easter eggs with the little notes I’d written for Sam, I worried about how I would be able to sneak away from him and hide them at the church. Since my mom and Aunt Bobbie went over there at six this morning to hide all the candy-filled eggs, Scheva offered to go along and help, letting Aunt Bobbie distract my mom for a few minutes so she could go to a different part of the lawn and hide Sam’s eggs.