Still cupping my cheek with one hand, Big snaps his fingers in front of my face with the other. “Stop stalling. It’s adult time. You’ve done mommy time and auntie time all day. Give her to Debbie.”
Head shaking, I sigh loudly—a healthy combination of defeated and dramatic. “You don’t get it.”
“No, babe, I don’t. I’m not her mom, I’m her dad. I don’t get it. I’ll never get it. I didn’t carry our girl for nine months. I don’t produce her food in my chest. I will never know the bond, babe. What I do know, is she’s asleep. She’ll stay asleep. You’re not gonna miss another Christmas Eve moment with her. I promise. And if she wakes, we’ll have Debbie text me, and I’ll take you on over to Jez’s to pick up our girl. We’ve got ’til midnight to have Bink and Big time together, with our family. In the morning we’ll have more Leech, Mommy, and Daddy time. Stop making this harder than it has to be. Take a deep breath…”
Silly tears welling, nose stinging with the need to bawl my stupid hormonal eyes out, I inhale that lungful of air at Big’s request.
“Now let it out.”
I do, blowing it from my lips.
A hot tear trickles down the edge of my nose. Big brushes it away with the pad of his thumb and deposits the wetness on his pant leg. “I love you. I know how great today has been for us. Let’s keep the great going… okay?” Jesus, I have the sweetest man sometimes. What did I do to deserve a life like this? I don’t know. He’s been great today. Not a single complaint about Christmasy stuff. He even loved helping Harley unwrap her pink light-up phone from Santa. I got that on film.
The mere thought of that precious memory has me wanting to lose it…
This has gotta stop.
I don’t do crybaby crap.
Becoming a mom has made me soft.
A nod is all the answer Big gets unless he wants the waterworks to spring into action.
Reading the moment, Debbie steps forth with her arms out. Big pecks my pouty lips and our daughter’s head before I pass her off. Another tear makes it descent. My lover catches that one too, as we watch Debbie carry our sleeping princess through the hall door to put her to bed.
Once she’s gone, Big takes my hand into his much larger one and tugs me to the open space in front of the jukebox. He pushes a button on the thing, and a song I didn’t know was on there blares to life. With no effort at all, he draws me into his warm cocoon, somehow knowing exactly what I need. Him.
Intertwining our fingers, Big presses the back of my hand to his pec as my arm curves around his side, palm splaying across an ass cheek. He wraps his opposite hand around the nape of my neck. My cheek presses to his sternum. Our feet slot together side by side like we’ve done this a zillion times before. Then, we slow dance. No words are spoken. The familiar scent of leather and Big— the love of my life—eases my fraying nerves. A content sigh slips free. My eyelids close as the rhythmic lub-lub of his heartbeat in one ear serenades me, while the classic Elvis hit, Blue Christmas, croons in the other.
Lost in the moment, of us, of him, of today, and how we got here… Years of memories claw their way to the surface…
We were in the clubhouse parking lot, it was a summer club party, and I was sitting on my bike without the key in the ignition, enjoying the sun beating down on my bare skin. Big leaned against the brick of the clubhouse, a beer clutched in his mitt. “Bink, you can’t wear a fuckin’ bikini top when you’re ridin’ your hog. Your tits are gonna flop out. Nobody needs to see a tit when they’re ridin’ down the highway goin’ sixty. You gear up, or you don’t ride. Always remember, prepare for the slide.”
A sentimental grin curves at the recollection. Big has always had his own brand of protectiveness when it comes to me. Even when I was a teenager who drove him and Gunz to the brink of insanity. That day I had no intention of riding. I merely wanted to sit and soak up the rays. I think he knew that, but chose to tease me instead… To use that moment as a teaching one, as he so often did.
I snicker as a different, yet somehow connected memory surfaces…
It was one of the many days Big sat outside my school building on his bike my second year of middle school, waiting for me to be let out.
His face was stuffed in a book when I arrived.
“Whatcha readin’, Big?”
He lowered said book and smiled his signature way. Single dimple out in full force. A pair of dark shades covered his eyes. There was a black bandana wrapped around his forehead. “You’re gonna be a teenager next month.”
I stood to the side of his Harley, ready to slide on when he said I could. “So?” I cocked a hip, hand perched on it. My loose blonde hair tickled the tops of my shoulders as a breeze blew through.
Big lifted the paperback so I could see the cover. It was a how-to guide on raising teenage girls. “You’re already a handful. So Gunz and I are gonna read this. Don’t wanna fuck shit up.”
“You’re not my dad, Big.”
He shrugged like that didn’t make any difference. “Yeah. Well. You’re ours, and we take care of our own.” His chin jutted toward the dip in my tank. I was one of those girls who developed early. Cleavage was unavoidable in most scoop-neck shirts. “No more clothes like that. I’ll take you shopping.”
“I’m not a nun.”
“No. You’re not a club whore either.”
I gasped at his brashness that stung and made me wanna walk home, no matter the distance. What a jerk. Why didn’t Gunz pick me up from school? Why did they ever send Big?
He never took me shopping, in case you were wondering. I avoided him after that, for as long as I could.
It’s strange the things we remember and those we don’t…
A kiss is pressed to the top of my head as Big guides our simple dance in a circle, careful not to step on my unprotected feet.
Lips linger in my hair, his hot breath bathing my scalp. I smile, it’s soft and happy. A gentle warmth flitters its way through my veins, heating me from the inside out at our closeness. I nuzzle the side of my cheek to his chest, the cotton of his well-worn shirt is a creature comfort, lending way to yet another memory I’ve long forgotten.
Fingers combed through my blonde strands. The familiar drum of Big’s heart against my ear as I laid my entire body on him, legs curled up. There were cartoons on the TV in the living room where we sprawled out on the couch. I coughed from the awful flu that wanted me dead.
Big patted my back to soothe the ache away. “I’ve got ya, sweetheart.”
“I’m sick.” A worse hacking cough tore through my lungs, burning my throat. I rubbed my nose with the tissue I had balled in my fist, eyes watering.
“I know. I know. We’re gonna get ya better. Do ya want me to sit up?”
Too tired to form words, I shook my head. “Uh eh.”
He chuckled. “Okay, sweetie, get some rest.”
I must’ve slept hours on his chest that day, and he didn’t move an inch. I’m not sure how old I was. Only that I was in elementary. If I had to guess, I’d say six or seven. Most of the brothers were out on a run. Big stayed behind to care for me since I was sick and everybody knew my mother wouldn’t tend to my needs.
It’s weird how life works, isn’t it? Twenty plus years later here we are dancing in the clubhouse on Christmas Eve. This is the year I fell in love with a man twenty years my senior, had a baby in our house, a party to celebrate her, and countless moments I’ll cherish for always.
The song comes to its inevitable close. Instead of letting me go, Big scoops me up like a bride on her wedding night. I squeak in surprise, arms flailing.
“Big, what’re you doing?” I slap his pec, laughing.
Five long strides later and I realize exactly what he’s up to. As quickly as I go up, I come down on Santa Gunz’s lap.
Big winks as he backs away with a devastating smile that melts my heart into a heap of malleable pink putty. He pulls out his cell phone, as does half of the freaking clubhouse full of brothers and their old ladies alike. J
ade is here again tonight along with Loretta, White Boy’s mom. Don’t think I’ll ever get over that she’s his mother. Beth even brought Jonesy by for a few hours tonight before taking him home and returning to hang with us.
Jizz gives us the thumbs-up.
I can’t believe they’re doing this to me. My old man of all people.
“Time to get the show on the road, Baby Doll.” Gunz drapes my legs over both of his, my ass resting on a thigh. My feet can’t touch the ground. Bet all these assholes are loving the show. At least Gunz didn’t wear the full costume to play the part. Only a Santa hat and beard. The rest of his outfit is pure Gunz: leather cut, white t-shirt, jeans, shit kickers, and Sacred Sinners belt. Bonez looks more the role than his brother does.
I twist my head to address Mr. Claus. “What show?” We never discussed a show. I should know, I helped plan the night with the sisters.
Gunz winks, smiling beneath that fake, white beard.
What. The. Hell?
“Ho. Ho. Ho. What would you like for Christmas, young lady?” he asks in a deep, Santa-inspired voice.
“Did you just Ho. Ho. Ho. me?”
Gunz pats my thigh. I dunno if it’s to calm me or get me to play along with this weird charade. “Why yes, I did, my dear. Now tell me what a beautiful girl like you wants for Christmas?”
Lordy. Alright. Guess we’re doing this.
“Come on, Bink. We all wanna know.” This comes from Jez who’s standing beside Bulk with her phone out. No doubt filming this whole stupid exchange.
I flip her off.
Jizz cracks up. “Now that’s no way to act on Christmas, sis, if you don’t want coal in your stocking.”
Fine.
A-hole.
I flip him the bird as well.
Big snorts, holding back a laugh. I narrow my eyes at him, silently promising a swift and painful death for doing this to me in the first place. The Santa bit and throne was for the kids. Not me.
Bonez reaches around and sets a brightly colored package in my lap. I glare down at the offending thing. “What the shit is this?” I flick the side of the box. Yes, I know this isn’t very holly or jolly or even nice of me, but I don’t wanna be on everyone’s Facebook and Instagram. There’s no way they’re keeping this to themselves. Bink’s humiliation will be the laughingstock of the entire club near and far. Not that I give a crap about that. Payback is a dish best served cold, with a side of how do ya like me now?
“It’s your gift,” Gunz explains.
“What gift?”
“For the white elephant.”
“Oh.” Duh. “Does this mean everybody’s gotta sit on your lap, Santa, to get their gift?” If I gotta do it. They do, too. That’s fair. What’s good for the goose is good for the goddamn gander.
Gunz picks up on my evil scheming right away. “Is that what you want for Christmas?” He squeezes my thigh.
A decisive nod. “Yes, Santa.” I tickle his fake beard. It’s poor quality. If we do this again next year it’ll need an upgrade.
Gunz swishes his hand through the air. “Then it shall be done.”
A chorus of groans and “fucks” carry through the clubhouse.
“Ha. Ha. Ha, assholes. You thought you were gonna win this one. Well, guess what, I win!” Both of my arms shoot into the air as I do a small wiggle of triumph on Gunz’s lap. I don’t give a rat’s ass if they film this. Do it. I’m gonna make sure the rest of their Santa experiences are posted alongside mine.
“Can I sit on Bonez’ lap instead?” Jez interjects. “Don’t want him left out.”
Gunz chuckles, shaking his head in pure amusement. I do the same.
Bulk elbows his old lady in the arm. “What the fuck?”
She shrugs like it ain’t no thang, massaging the spot he connected with.
Behind me, Bonez laughs. It’s deep, sensuous, and sexy as sin.
“Open your present, babe, so you can give the next person a turn.” Big juts his chin toward the gift in my lap. Oh. Right. That’s a great idea to unwrap these here. Bet a hundred bucks that more than half of whatever’s under the tree is naughty. None of us went boring, snore-fest. The funnier, the better. There’s a giant bottle of Astroglide and a hundred-count box of condoms from Big somewhere down there. I wrapped a bright green, vibrating cock as mine, since there are more brothers than there are Sacred Sisters. It seemed fitting.
Tearing into the striped paper, I toss the trash onto the floor and pop open the cardboard box the present is in.
Then… I freaking lose it.
They. Did. Not.
Oh my God.
Holding my stomach, I laugh, and I laugh until my muscles ache and tears are dripping. Gunz peers into the box and snickers along with me. Bonez joins in, too, when he sees the goodies inside.
Still laughing, I pull both things out to show everyone.
The first is a Rudolph G-string. If you’ve never seen one of these before, Rudolph’s elongated nose is where a dick goes. It has googly eyes, plush antlers, and a red ball on the tip of the nose, aka tip of the cock. There are thin straps on either side that lead to the floss that fits up a man’s butt crack.
Brew hoots and hollers at the silly thing.
A bunch of the brothers smile. Others clap. Some laugh.
Blimp clasps Big on the shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got a show to put on for Bink tonight, Prez.”
Big shoves his hand off. “Fuck off. My dick’s too big for that thing. Maybe you should wear it for Loretta.” He’s teasing Blimp. There’s no malice behind his words. Not when he’s smiling from ear to ear, watching me hold Rudolph in the air to give the full effect.
“Big would look hawt in that,” Jo throws out. Deke rolls his eyes at his woman.
“I second that,” Jez has to add. Bulk covers her mouth to keep her from talking more. Then is disgusted when she licks his palm, but he doesn’t release her.
“Third.” Candy Cane raises her hand in agreement.
What a night. This is hilarious!
The second part of the present is as wild as the first. It’s a Rudolph butt plug. More specifically a deer tail attached to a black, tapered plug to match the G-string. You could actually roleplay with this ensemble. Not that we will. But it’ll be fun to re-gift next year. Unless I can talk Big into wearing the thing. He’s probably right, though. The length of Rudolph’s nose is too short for him. Then again, you never know until you try.
As if reading my mind, Big shakes his head on repeat. “Don’t even think about it, babe. None of that is goin’ anywhere near this.” He gestures to his junk in a circular motion before turning around and doing the same motion to that sexy ass encased in a pair of equally sexy jeans.
He spins back around.
“But—”
Big holds up a hand, cutting me off. “Nope. If I can’t fuck your ass, you can’t put anything in mine.”
I wasn’t gonna ask that. But okay. Good to know if I let him, then I can do whatever I want to his back door, too. Turnabout is fair play in this relationship, it appears. I’m cool with that.
I file that notion away to revisit later.
“Okay,” I reply, unsure of what else I’m supposed to say. To get this over with I peck Santa on the cheek in thanks, collect my gifts, and join my old man to give someone else a turn to be humiliated in good spirit.
Jez wastes no time strutting up to Santa and taking a seat on his lap. Thus commencing our portion of the adult Christmas party.
She opens a candy cane vibrator provided by Loretta. We all get a good chuckle when she decides to deep throat it for the cameras.
As the night wears on, there’s alcohol, various naughty shot glasses, a bag of coal, more sex toys than you can imagine, and a few tamer presents like a poker set and decks of cards that everyone takes turns opening. Nobody fights over things. We get what we get and enjoy ourselves. There’s laughter all around. Pictures and videos taken to memorialize the night. Brew passes out drinks. Bottles of Bud or Co
ors to the men and various mixed cocktails in red Solo cups for us ladies. I don’t think I’ve laughed and smiled this much in years.
Standing in front of Big, sipping on spiked eggnog, my ass to his legs, he wraps his arms around my shoulders as we watch our family take their turns. Bonez gets in on the fun by sitting on his own brother’s lap and unwrapping Big’s box of condoms and lube. Not leaving Gunz out, they swap places. Gunz puts on his brother’s elf hat and surrenders the Santa one so Bonez can look the part. Jez makes lewd comments about the display and begs to get her chance to sit on Bonez’s lap. To which, Bulk denies her with a spicy kiss that keeps the wild woman distracted long enough for the brother swap to conclude before she gets herself into more trouble.
Spinning around to face my man, I tap his cheek, grinning at him. “You’re up last, sexy.”
Big dips down to plant a loud smooch upon my lips. “You got it, Sugar Tits.” That dimple is killing me tonight. I dunno if I’ve seen it this much ever. Nor the twinkle in his eyes. He’s happy. From the world of Elizabeth Bennett—incandescently so.
Taking this night in stride, despite his dislike for Christmas, Big takes his half-empty bottle of Bud with him and sits on his sergeant at arms’ lap. The amount of space he takes up is comical. You can barely see Gunz beneath Big’s massive self. Bonez rests the last present from under the tree on my man’s thigh.
Santa doesn’t disappoint when he repeats the same speech he has all night, one person after the next. “Ho. Ho. Ho. What would you like for Christmas, Prez?”
Big looks straight at me and lights up the entire common room with his full-fledged smile and flash of pearly whites. My stomach dips at the wonderful sight. Our eyes tether the short distance, and I find myself smiling as wide as him, cheeks aching, insides fluttering, heart thumping to the beat of my love for this man.
Damn, I sound cheesy as fuck.
MC Chronicles: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 5 Page 7
