The house smelled like fresh pine and cinnamon, and was
decorated with red ribbons, fresh-cut greens, tiny white lights,
and lit candles.  The Christmas tree glowed in the corner of the
familyroom and looked like it was growing out of an island of
wrapped packages.
     "The house looks beautiful, Mom.  Martha Stewart couldn't do
better."
     "Thanks, Dear!  You're so sweet.  Hungry?"
     "No.  I ate on the plane and I think I'd rather get on the
phone.  See what's going on."
     "Well, I hope your father gets home before you go out
gallivanting around for the night."
     After several phone calls, Bobby decided that the most
promising party would be at Scott Jordan's house, just the next
block over.  After a shower, shave, and change of clothes, he was
ready to get drunk and get laid, in either order.  He did have
the chance to say hello to his father as he walked out the back
door and his father walked in.
*
     Robert C. Anderson, Senior, entered the house and gave his
gorgeous wife a peck on the cheek.
     "Hello, Dear.  I think that was our son who just gave me a
`hello' and `goodbye' as I walked in."
     Laurie turned from the bar and handed her husband a double
Johnny Walker Black, on the rocks with a twist.
     "Yes, that was him.  On his way to Scott's to catch up on
his partying."
     "No jet-lag?  God, how I envy their energy.  He looked good,
didn't he?"
     "Mm-huh.  He said his grades are great and everything is
fine at school."
     "Good."
     "Hi, Daddy!"
     Robert, Sr. looked up from his drink to see his daughter
standing at the doorway to the familyroom.
     "Well, hello, Princess!  How's my angel, today?"
     Molly hugged her dad and, as she walked by her mother,
snatched the glass of Bailey's Irish Cream from her hand and
swallowed a large gulp from the glass.
     "Molly!" her mother exclaimed.
     "Mmmm-mmmm, good!"  Molly, grinning broadly, handed the
drink back to her mother.
     "Oh, come on, Laurie" said Robert, Sr., "it was just a sip,
and it is the holidays."
     "Thanks, Daddy.  Well, I better go up and finish my
homework," and with a dramatic stare at he mother, "-- if I'm not
too drunk!  'Night, you two."
     "G'night, Princess," smiled Robert. Sr.
     "I won't be far behind you, Dear," said Laurie, as she
finished her drink, "I'm beat, and it's not even Christmas, yet!"
*
     Bobby slipped and almost fell on the wet grass.  It had
stopped snowing and the moon was bright but it had gotten colder
and there were slippery, not-quite-ice wet patches.  It was a
little before 1 a.m. and he was wasted.  A few quick beers at
Scott's, studying for exams, last night's Scotch, and the long
flight home had knocked him for a loop.  Bobby was desperate to
crash in his own warm bed.
     The party hadn't been much of a party, and he hadn't gotten
very lucky.  In fact, he thought he was going to strike-out,
completely, until he found little Heather Atwell soused in the
basement.  Heather had looked good in her tight sweater, tiny
skirt, and those sexy thigh-high stockings, but Bobby had to
concentrate to forget that she was only 18 and in Molly's class
at school.
     Anyway, any port in a storm, as they say.
     Bobby sat down next to her and put his arm around her
shoulders.  "Hi, there, Heather."
     He remembered her earning her reputation as a little slut as
she made the rounds last summer; but, he was still surprised at
how quickly she melted into him and began returning his kisses.
Encouraged, his hand quickly slid up under her blouse to grab
some warm tit-flesh.  Her small titties were very firm and pointy
with small, very hard nipples.  She moaned into his mouth and
slid forward on the sofa.  Bobby took his cue and removed his
hand from her chest and slid it up her thighs to her panty-
covered pussy.  When his fingers pushed aside her panty elastic
and attacked her tumescent clit, she buried her face in his chest
and squirmed her way through a climax, moaning into his sweater.
     [`Christ!  What a hair-trigger this little whore has!' Bobby
marvelled.]
     Bobby did a quick survey of the darkened game-room and saw
that everybody else was engaged in the same type of activity as
he and Heather and decided that the time was right.
     He placed Heather on her back on the sofa and slid her tiny
red panties down her thin legs and off one foot.  She obligingly
placed one foot on the floor as Bobby lowered his face down to
cover her pink, steamy gash.  He buried his face between her wet,
pink lips and alternated between thrusting his tongue deep inside
her pussy and licking, sucking, and nibbling on the little
tramp's clit.  True to form, he had only just started when she
crashed into her second big orgasm.
     Bobby was ready for some of his own fun but was surprised as
Heather reached down and pulled her panties up.
     "What are you doin', Heather?  What about me?"
     "I'll take care of you, Bobby, but you aren't going to fuck
me."
     "Why not?"
     "Because you're not, okay?  Now just sit back."
     Bobby was too horny and too tired to argue with this drunk,
young teenager.  He certainly didn't want a scene; so he sat back
on the sofa and watched as Heather slowly lowered his zipper and
pulled out his hard cock.
     "Oh!  You're pretty big, Bobby," she said as she swung her
hair out of the way and lowered her mouth down over his cock,
sucking at his prick as she swallowed him deeply.
     "Ough!"  Bobby knew he wasn't going to last long, and damn,
this little cocksucker was good!
     "Ohhhh!"  Too soon!  Too soon, Bobby could feel his balls
boiling and ready to shoot!
     Heather popped his dick out of her little mouth, wrapped a
small hankie over the tip of his cock, and began to vigorously
pump his prick up and down.
     "Noooo!  In your mouth!  Pleeease!"
     Heather mutely shook her head and continued pumping.  Bobby
was too close to insist.  Then, his warm cum was filling her
hankie and he was sinking back, slumping deep into the cushions
and sucking at his now-warm beer.
     He watched Heather wipe her fingers and throw the hankie
behind the sofa.
     He had to know.  "Heather, why wouldn't you fuck me?  And
why did you stop sucking my dick?"
     "Because..."
     "Come on, Heather.  After what we just did together..."
     "Alright!  I went to confession today, and I don't want to
have to go again before Christmas Mass!"
*
     Bobby chuckled to himself, recalling her comment as he cut
through the back yards of his neighbors.  [`It must be
interesting being a Catholic and a slut.  Somehow, the little
bitch has rationalized that fucking and sucking are confessable
sins, but hand-jobs and spreading her pussy open to be eaten
aren't!  I'd like to hear that little whore's confessions!']
     To his left, Bobby noticed a bright light in one of the
houses.  [`Maybe it's a bedroom!' he thought]
     As he made his way over the grass to take a closer look,
Bobby happily remembered what must have been the thousands of
hours he and Scott had spent prowling the backyards and streets
in the neighborhood over the years they had been best friends.
They were always searching for that one woman or girl who loved
to get undressed or that couple who loved to make love with the
curtains open.  They had occasionally lucked out with a long
glimpse of some pink flesh, but their peeping-tom routine didn't
really pay off until Bobby noticed that Scott's older sister
never closed her curtains.  Scott was chagrinned that the only
dependable exhibitionist in the neighborhood was his sister, but
he quickly learned to enjoy watching her (and sometimes her and
her boyfriends) as much as Bobby did.
     Now, standing outside the lit window, Bobby spied in, only
to see old Mrs. Phillips wrapping Christmas presents.
     [`Time to get home, Bobby-boy.']
*
     Bobby quietly entered through the garage and made his way up
the back stairs.  As he walked down the hall to his room, he
noticed Molly's light was on and her door was open a crack.
     To his disappointment, as he pressed his eye to the crack,
he saw that she was in bed with the covers up to her neck, on her
side, reading a book.  He pressed the door open a little farther.
     "What are you still doing up, Munchkin?  You have school
tomorrow."
     Molly looked up from her book and smiled at her big brother.
     She was so beautiful, Bobby could feel his chest tighten and
his heart beating inside it.
     "Hi, Bobby!  I'm still studying.  You're home early."
     "I'm beat.  I should still be going strong, `cause I'm still
on California time, but I've had it."
     "Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.  How was the party?  All
your old friends there?"
     "Some.  It was a small crowd.  I saw Heather Atwell there."
     "Yuck!  I hope you didn't shake hands with her -- who knows
what you'd catch!"
     Bobby had walked into the room and now sat down on the bed.
Molly moved back towards the wall to give him more room.
     "Why?  What do you mean, Molly?"
     "Well, let's just say that she's... ah... been around.  You
don't get kicked out of school for nothing."
     "She doesn't go to school with you, anymore?"
     Molly shook her head.  "She got kicked out before
Thanksgiving.  She was at some big party that got busted and all
the kids were doing everything -- booze, drugs, sex ---
everything!  And there were rumors that she had an abortion."
     Bobby was relieved to hear that Molly and Heather were no
longer classmates.  He didn't need Heather telling his little
sister all about what went on in Scott's basement!
     "Well, I better let you get back to studying, so you can get
some sleep."
     Molly reached a hand out from under the blanket and squeezed
Bobby's biceps.  "I'm glad you're home, safe and sound, Bobby.  I
missed you."
     "I missed you, too, Munchkin."  Bobby leaned down to give
Molly a little goodnight kiss, but she was so pretty and so warm
and soft and smelled so good, that he pressed his lips to hers
harder than he intended.  His tongue shot from his mouth and
pushed between her full, puffy lips as his hand cupped the
impressive bulge of her heavy, round, bra-less breast under the
blanket.
     How long did that moment last?
     Bobby didn't know, but was sure it was only an instant.  But
it was a magical instant.  One he would kill to repeat.
     When the instant ended, Molly gently rolled her head and
lips away from Bobby's and readjusted the blankets (and her body
under them).
     "What are you doing, big brother?"  Her gray eyes were huge
and she was smiling in a wry sort of way.
     "Ah...  Molly, I um..."
     "Go to bed, Bobby.  The beer and the jet-lag have you acting
crazy.  Sleep tight."
     "G'night, Molly.  See you tomorrow."
*
     If he hadn't been so exhausted, Bobby would have liked
thinking about that kiss and the feel of his little sister's
firm, round breast for a while before falling asleep.  But he was
exhausted.  So exhausted, he fell asleep as his head hit his
pillow.  But he went to sleep with the conviction that, even if
only for the briefest instant, his sexy little sister had
returned his kiss.