A very awkward Christmas

The most, ummm... interesting Christmas that I'd rather forget was the one I had when I was away from my family, when I was overseas for grade 11. It was an odd feeling; an empty feeling. I thought I would feel sad and homesick, but surprisingly, I didn’t feel either. I guess it didn’t help (or did help, depending on one’s perspective) that I was living with a family I completely despised (McFucks) – so it wasn’t like I was surrounded by references and reminders of love and gooey family togetherness. It was also bizarre that it was 32degrees outside and we were having a BBQ, so it didn't really 'feel' like Christmas either.

I did my duty and remained at their house for as long as was required of me. Astonishingly, this family actually had some friends and they came over. I had to remain for that visit to ‘keep up appearances’ or some bullshit logic like that. So yes, they got to show off their little pet project with uncomfortable small talk and boring conversation; I had to do a lot of fake smiling and lying – I would have hoped that they at least appreciated my acting abilities, but I doubt it.

Once their painfully dull friends left, I asked if I could be excused to go to my friend’s Christmas party. They were done with me, so the father gave me a grunt, which I understood as a reluctant ‘yes’. Friggin’ finally!

I got to the party a lot later than I originally thought, but they were all happy to see me – at last I was with some friendly faces; it was a relief. My boyfriend came in from the back porch and gave me a big groping hug and sloppy kiss that stunk of beer, but I really didn’t mind… that time.

After I had a chance to mingle and get a few drinks into me I was feeling much better and was getting more into a Christmas-y mood. Further into the night, the drinks kept coming and both myself and my boyfriend were getting ‘in the mood’.

We loaned his friend’s sister’s bedroom for the night, as the rest of his family were away at the beach for Christmas eve. My boyfriend brought in a couple bows to try and stick to my nipples, but it didn't work that great. He had suggested trying the 69 position earlier that evening, as he had done on numerous occasions before, but I wasn’t too sure. We did like trying new things together, but I don’t know – something about a guy’s chode in my face didn’t do much for me, nor if I was on top, I didn’t see how my ass in his face would be a particularly sexy angle for me – I didn’t have many of those to begin with, gimmie a break! Perhaps it was the generosity of the Christmas spirit flowing through me, but that night I finally said, “What the hell; let’s try it.”

I could tell straight away that he was super excited. After some initial fooling around he gave me a little whistle of approval and swung his leg over my head and started going down on me, upside down. OK, so that was feeling great, of course… but yep, there it was – his big harry chode (the area between nuts and asshole – watch Jackass and you’ll learn all about the chode), ass crack and all other bits waving in my face. It totally wasn’t sexy at all and I was so relieved it wasn’t me on top. It was really hard for me not to laugh… really, really hard. My previous thoughts on this position were bang on.

There was a definite tug-of-war with my thought processes and senses whilst in this position – I was surely enjoying the pleasure, but then I would have to snap out of it and perform head on him… upside down and in the reverse angle, so as not to bend it backwards and break the damn thing. I could see how having me on top would be a lot easier for me to perform my end of the deal, for sure. Upside down & backwards blow jobs are not an easy feat!

This sums up my first 69 in a nutshell:
Oh, pleasure. Ugh, annoying. Oh, pleasure. Ugh, annoying… and so on and so forth.

Finally, he had turned around, put a condom on and we finished the ‘traditional’ way. While we were lying on the bed afterwards, he looked over at me and proclaimed, “You know, I really love you.” That was the first time he said that, and continued by saying that being with me made it his best Christmas ever. Uh, ok… and I really like you a lot… too. Yikes! That was the best I could give him that night, or any other night after that. He was one of the VERY few that I actually DIDN’T fall in love with – just my luck! At least I can say Christmas that year was abundant in awkward moments… and positions.