“Rarely,” said Maggie. “That’s basically it, though.”
“It’s the hand of God, Margaret,” said Jodi, pursing her lips and nodding. “How else could you have found each other so many years later?”
“I don’t know, Mom. I think you’re right.”
“Well, I’ll let you get back to her, then.”
Maggie’s mother stood up on her tiptoes to give her a kiss on the cheek and she sent Maggie off, out of the kitchen, making her feel oddly like she had been dismissed to go play outside.
Something about this trip was making her feel like a kid again, in a good way.
After helping her parents clean up the rest of the table, they played a round of Maggie’s favorite childhood board game—Monopoly—then the parents went upstairs to their bedroom to turn in for the night. Maggie and Jena were left with free run of the house.
“It’s so weird to be in your thirties and feel like a child,” said Maggie.
“That’s because our inner children never leave us,” said Jena. “They’re still there, inside, wanting the same things they’ve always wanted—security, love, affection.”
Maggie was surprised to hear something so deep. “You sure about that?”
“Well, can you remember the last time you disappointed your parents as an adult? How did it feel? It must have felt a whole lot like bringing a bad report card home, right?” said Jena.
“I guess so,” agreed Maggie.
“That’s the reaction of your inner child,” said Jena.
“Huh. I never thought about it like that. Where did you learn that?”
Jena tilted her head to think. “I have no idea.”
“Well, it sounds pretty smart to me.”
“Wanna go upstairs?” asked Maggie.
“Sure,” said Jena, drawing out the word.
Maggie knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off of her girlfriend during this whole weekend, so it was for the best that they took this opportunity while they could. Her parents often slept with the TV turned on, and even if it wasn’t, they were deep sleepers. They were lucky Maggie had been a good kid, otherwise she could have gotten away with a lot more due to their sleeping habits.
She led Jena up the stairs and they went into their respective rooms to change into PJs. Jena brought out her toothbrush and paste, only to find Maggie staring at her.
“You getting ready for bed already?” asked Maggie.
“Erm, is there something else I should be getting ready for?”
“The party is just getting started. Put that away and come back down with me,” said Maggie.
She went to the kitchen and immediately started ransacking the shelves for snacks. She’d inherited a sweet tooth from her parents, because they always had cookies and pastries around to eat with tea or coffee. Sure enough, she found some promising looking boxes of treats and set them out.
Jena came down a moment later. “Wow.”
“Yep. We’re going to each bring a plate of goodies upstairs. Remember, we did this last time after they went to bed?”
“Yeah, I do. That was back when we were into, what was it, Gushers and Fruit by the Foot and stuff like that?”
“Gross.” Maggie shook her head. “I only have a taste for good old fashioned chocolate chip cookies nowadays.”
After putting the boxes away, Maggie pulled Jena toward the guest bedroom, because it had a full sized bed rather than the twin in Maggie’s childhood room.
She closed the door behind them, and they both sat down on the bed, munching on the snacks, careful not to get crumbs on the sheets.
An owl hooted outside.
“That’s a barred owl!” said Jena excitedly.
Maggie couldn’t help but gaze upon her girlfriend with a tender expression. This was the girl she loved. She was letting her inner child—the one who’d loved birds so much—loose. She was getting in touch with who she used to be.
“I always used to hear those around here. I wonder if the one we just heard is the child of the one I used to hear back when I was a kid. Or maybe even the grandchild.”
“Who knows,” said Jena. “But if you’ve been hearing them for years, then yeah, I’m sure they’re related.”
“That’s so cool.”
There was more silence, punctuated by the sounds of their munching and the owl calling. It was quiet, a typical winter night.
When they finished eating, Maggie gathered up their plates and set them on the nightstand. “I’m so full of food now, I think I’m ready for bed.”
Jena threw her a quirked eyebrow. “Um, what?”
“What, aren’t you tired?” Maggie grinned. “Aren’t you excited to open presents tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I am… But… We don’t have to go to sleep immediately, you know,” said Jena.
“So what do you propose?”
Jena squirmed. Maggie loved doing this to her. For some reason, she found it really hot, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.
“I propose this—” Jena leaned down on the bed toward Maggie and settled comfortably, reaching an arm out and pulling her girlfriend close, then kissing her neck. She couldn’t hold back, and started going at it, pressing her body against Maggie’s.
“Sex on Christmas Eve? Naughty!” said Maggie. She giggled, but then moaned softly when Jena reached a hand down and palmed her crotch.
“Looks like you’re ready, at least,” said Jena in a sexy growl—the exact timbre of her voice that turned Maggie on like nothing else.
“I… I am,” said Maggie, but she was cut off by the way Jena kissed down her neck, down her shoulder, slipping her shirt and bra off with some trouble, but then getting right back to what she was doing, slipping a hand across Maggie’s peaked nipples, cupping her breasts, and then further down.
“You are really ready,” said Jena, “completely ready for me.”
“Can’t lie,” said Maggie. “I’m pretty much always ready for you.”
Jena laughed and pulled off her own shirt, then her pants, and soon enough, the two were naked, sprawled on the bed together, kissing and kissing and kissing. As much as Maggie liked making out, though, she liked her clit getting some action better, and she squirmed when Jena started working it.
They weren’t going to be able to hold back much longer.
“Why don’t you take the lead this time?” said Jena, leaning back on the bed with her arms crossed behind her head.
“I’d love to,” Maggie purred, and she climbed on top of Jena, loving the view she had of her moonlit lover in a somewhat vulnerable position.
There was something about Jena that wouldn’t have made Maggie guess she enjoyed giving up any sort of control, even in the bedroom. Maybe it was because Jena had such a façade up that it didn’t seem like she’d ever allow herself to be vulnerable with anyone. Jena throwing her hands back behind her head and leaving herself fully exposed required a certain vulnerability that Maggie couldn’t imagine Jena sharing with anyone…
Except now she was sharing it with Maggie herself.
“I have an idea,” Maggie said suddenly.
“Oh? And what’s that?”
Maggie gave Jena a sly, little smile. “Have you ever been… tied up?”
Jena was a little surprised by this. “Can’t say that I have,” she said, after a moment.
“Do you want to be? We could use one of my scarves. It’d be soft, and it’ll feel really nice on your skin.” Jena didn’t answer right away, so Maggie reassured her. “Don’t worry. It’s not scary.”
It took a second, but Jena finally nodded. Nothing could be scary if it was with Maggie—not even giving up control.
Maggie hopped off the bed and reached into the closet. It only took a second before she was back, sitting on Jena again, sliding the silky scarf around her wrists.
Maggie couldn’t help but smile. Getting to be in total control with Jena was like a privilege, and it was a testament to how much Jena trusted her. After all, Jena
having her hands behind her head was one thing… having them tied behind her head was something else entirely.
After making sure Jena’s wrists were tied, Maggie wiggled herself downwards and slowly made her way down Jena’s beautiful body. Since Jena didn’t have a lot of experience doing anything like this, Maggie wanted to take her time and make sure Jena enjoyed every second of it.
As Maggie kissed her way down Jena’s body, she couldn’t help but reflect on how very special she felt in that moment. She knew there were depths she was getting to see in Jena that no one else ever would. Maggie felt so special, so safe, so loved… and she wanted to make sure Jena felt the same.
After covering every inch of Jena with tender, loving kisses, Maggie finally got to that spot between Jena’s legs that she’d been dying to get to all night. Maggie closed her eyes as she dove into her, reveling in the feeling and the taste of her lover on her tongue.
Jena closed her eyes and hummed. “I never realized how good it would feel to do this,” she said, as she felt the light tugging of the silky scarf around her wrists. “It’s so good…”
“You’re so good,” said Maggie, and she slid a finger inside Jena then, adding another after only a moment.
Jena let out another moan, spreading her legs even wider to allow Maggie to do whatever she wanted to her, and Maggie was only too happy to comply. Maggie started thrusting her fingers inside Jena slowly, then she increased her pace, enjoying the feeling of Jena’s slick, wet walls all around her fingers.
Maggie pushed her fingers inside as far as they would go, and soon she started pushing them into Jena’s G-spot. Maggie was trailing her fingers all along that special spot, making Jena moan and groan above her.
Maggie loved hearing Jena get like this. She’d never heard Jena make any sounds like this before, and it turned Maggie on so much knowing what she was doing to her lover.
Jena could feel Maggie’s hot breath between her legs. She could feel every breath Maggie took as she licked and sucked on her folds and clit. Soon, Jena started to pant as she felt the pressure inside her start to build up.
Maggie had her fingers as far inside Jena as they could reach. It was almost like she wanted to get as deep as she possibly could, and if she closed her eyes, it was almost like she was burying herself completely inside her… like she was melding her soul with Jena’s.
When sex felt like that with someone, you knew you had something special.
Jena wished she could wrap her arms around Maggie. She wished they could get even closer together, but the ties around her wrists were holding her back.
Maggie seemed to sense this, and so she stopped licking Jena—only for a second—and reached up and tugged the scarf, letting Jena’s hands fall free again.
The small act of Maggie giving Jena exactly what she was hoping for in that moment seemed to make her feel even closer to Maggie. Of course Jena could trust someone that was able to do that. And so, Jena felt herself overwhelmed in that moment: in a physical sense as well as an emotional sense.
“Come here,” Jena whispered, and Maggie obliged.
Maggie brought her face to Jena’s. They kissed each other deeply, passionately, the heat between them never dissipating for a moment as they continued to touch each other. Their mouths, their tongues, their fingers, their hands—every part of their bodies were touching, and soon, their bucking into each other grew even more frantic.
As their orgasms started to build, the way they moved became more and more erratic as they each felt a growing pleasure start to coil in their stomach and move throughout their entire bodies. Before they knew it, they were both on the edge, the precipice of the cliff, about to jump down together.
“I’m… going to cum…” Maggie’s voice was strangled by pleasure, and she came, thrusting fingers into Jena’s body, letting herself go completely and willing Jena to do the same.
Jena shuddered and breathed heavily as she came too, still slipping her fingers in and out of Maggie as they rode wave after wave of ecstasy together.
As they held each other, their breathing and heart rates starting to slow, Maggie looked peculiarly at Jena. Obviously, Maggie had something she really needed to say.
“What?” Jena whispered. “What is it?”
“Um…” Maggie grinned. “Merry Christmas.”
Jena laughed. “Merry Christmas, indeed,” she said. “I think this might be the best Christmas I’ve ever had, and it’s not even the morning yet.”
Maggie’s heart warmed to hear this—because she knew Jena meant it. This could very easily be one of the best Christmases Jena had ever had, and it had barely started. She knew Jena was going to be excited to see how it could get even better—because it definitely would.
23
Jena
Jena’s alarm went off pretty early. Maggie had advised her to get ready sooner rather than later, because the Wilsons might possibly want the girls to join them at church.
Jena was loathe to go to church. She was sure that whatever church the Wilsons picked would be LGBT-friendly and otherwise progressive, but she didn’t want to go all the same. She simply had too many bad associations developed over years of living with her parents and having to go every Sunday.
That was fifty-two weeks every year, so fifty-two times, plus a few more if you counted Easter and Christmas and other holidays. Multiply that by how many years she’d lived under that roof and… You had a recipe for spiritual trauma.
There was no way Jena was setting foot in a church ever again, but she didn’t want to make a big stink about it if the Wilsons wanted to go. Maybe she could sit in the gazebo. That had been relaxing enough. She could spend Christmas with the birds, which wasn’t too far off from what she normally did.
If she really had to, she’d suck it up and go, but she wasn’t going to be enthusiastic about it, that was for sure. Just politely disinterested. Ugh, it was stressing her out already, and she wasn’t even certain it was happening.
After showering and getting dressed, she went downstairs. The Wilsons’ Christmas tree was beautiful, with sparkling lights and years and years of collected ornaments. A huge pile of gifts sat at the bottom. Despite what Maggie had said, Jena had bought the Wilson parents gifts, as well as Maggie, of course. There was no way she was going to take their hospitality and not give them a gift.
“So, church is at eleven,” Mrs. Wilson was saying to Maggie, “but you girls can hang out at home if you want. We’ll just go.”
“Really? Is that okay with you? You don’t want us to to come along and sing carols and everything?” asked Maggie.
“Nah. Since Jena is leaving the area so soon, you should make the most of this time together,” said Mrs. Wilson, smiling indulgently at her daughter.
Jena finished walking down the stairs, pretending that she hadn’t heard the conversation. She waved and walked up to Maggie, who threw an arm around her.
“We don’t have to go to church if you don’t want,” said Maggie.
Jena shrugged. “I’m fine with whatever you want to do.” But of course, she hoped Maggie would take her mother’s advice and stay home.
“I guess we’ll stay home, then. Maybe I can get started on dinner? Or we can prepare lunch for you guys?” asked Maggie.
Jena found it hard to believe that a family could be so considerate of each other. But when someone was kind to you, it was a natural impulse to want to be kind in return. The Wilsons had been so welcoming to her that she would have gladly helped cook all their meals for the next week.
“No, no,” said Mrs. Wilson, waving her hand, “don’t worry about it. We’ll work on something light together when we get back, or we can eat last night’s leftovers, because today’s going to be a feast.”
“If you say so,” said Maggie.
“Anyway, it’s time to open gifts. Jena, come on and get your breakfast.”
Jena trotted to the kitchen after her, feeling like a little kid again. She was glad to see a hearty stack of pan
cakes and plates of bacon and scrambled eggs. Mr. Wilson was just cleaning up.
“Thanks for breakfast, Michael,” Jena said politely.
Mr. Wilson clapped her on the back. “Thank you for being our guest.”
Were these people even real, Jena wondered, as she scooped up pancakes and drizzled syrup onto them. She followed the lead of the rest of the family, who’d brought their plates over to the living room for the unwrapping of the gifts.
“What we usually do is make sure each person has a gift for each round, then we open then and see what we got,” said Maggie when Jena sat down next to her on the couch.
“Okay then,” said Jena, unsure of what to expect. Surely she’d have fewer gifts than the others—not that that was a problem.
“Here you are, honey,” said Mrs. Wilson, handing her a package.
“Oh, Jodi, you didn’t have to,” said Jena, genuinely touched. Somehow, she’d suspected they would buy her gifts. They were just too nice.
When everyone had a gift, the unwrapping commenced. Jena opened her parcel to find that she’d been gifted a new silk scarf. The brand was pretty high end; she’d be able to wear this to work events, or maybe when she went out in the evening.
“This is… this is lovely,” she said, amazed. She unfolded the scarf and held it up. “And it’s just my favorite color, too…”
“We thought you’d like it, honey,” said Mrs. Wilson. “Maggie told us how fashionable you are.”
Jena turned to Maggie and gave her a hug, then, overcome with emotion, stood up and crossed the living room to hug Maggie’s parents. She felt like a child again, despite the fancy, adult gift—like a child receiving much-needed love and affection and care from adults.
Maggie had received a small smoothie blender from her parents, and the parents had received a pair of earrings and a new bird feeder.
It was time for round two of the gift opening. And then round three. And so forth. Jena was amazed that every time, the Wilsons had managed to get her something. She ended up with some great perfume (from Maggie, specifically), a necklace, a hat and scarf set, a lovely picture frame, and an intricate coin purse. They were good gifts for any woman—but the specific items that had been chosen showed a personal touch. Maggie had clearly advised her parents on Jena’s style.
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