Christmas With The Hendersons

Christmas is my favorite time of year. It’s the one occasion when I can gather everyone around without any distractions. No cell phones, no laptops, no video games.

Christmas is all about family, and I make sure to emphasize that every year. We bake cookies, wrap presents, and even enjoy hot chocolate with marshmallows in the evenings. But this year, things have changed and won’t be the same as they usually are.

Ella and Tilly have moved out. Ella left at the start of the year, and Tilly followed suit a few months ago, just before she had her baby boy. Now we have little Isaac and Tilly’s dog Pepper, a cute Australian Shepard with a peppered coat and mismatched eyes, just like Ella.

Sadly, neither Ella and Daniel nor Tilly, Josh, and Rogan have accepted the invitation to stay over on Christmas Eve. My favorite part of Christmas is waking everyone up with a hot cup of cocoa and a big smile, dragging them from their beds to the seldom-used living room. That’s where I hang all the stockings on the mantle above the fireplace—cute little red velvet stockings with our names stitched in gold.

I even made stockings for Daniel, Rogan, and Josh to show them they’re part of our family, because I love giving them their “Santa” socks. Me…Santa. But this year, I won’t get to wake them, so we’ll have to wait until everyone is here to start our annual celebration.

That’s my plan, but Zach thinks I’m being unreasonable. He believes we should let Ella, Daniel, Tilly, Rogan, and Josh decide when they want to arrive. I can’t help but wonder if that’s just because he’s impatient and can’t wait to open his presents, despite being a grown man.

Regardless, I’m determined to have things my way.

“Mom?” Asher’s voice, deeper and more mature now, pulls me from my thoughts. I tap my fingers on the countertop, trying to distract myself from the sadness of knowing my girls are living away. He’s given me the distraction I didn’t know I needed.

He’s quickly growing up, towering over me at nearly six feet. He’s not a little boy anymore, and he certainly acts like it. Today, we’re supposed to go shopping because, like his father, he always leaves things until the last minute.

Each child gets a five hundred dollar budget, and one of us takes them shopping for their gifts. This year, Zach took Talya, Tyler took Atty, and Callum went with Ella and Tilly just yesterday. So, that leaves Asher for me.

It makes sense, considering I’m his favorite parent.

“Yes, sweetheart?” I ask, reaching up on my tiptoes to wipe the crumbs from the corner of his mouth.

“What should I get Isaac? Does he even need a present? He’s not even two weeks old…”

“Of course, he needs a gift. Maybe a rattle or an outfit. Or a small teddy bear. We’ll check out the baby stores.”

“I hate shopping, Mom…can’t you just do it for me?” he asks.

“Nice try, Asher. No, I can’t. You need to pick out your own gifts, sweetheart.”

“That’s not fair…,” he complains.

“How about this? You shop, and I’ll wrap. Isn’t that a good compromise?” I offer, smiling up at him.

“Not really. I’d rather just dump everything in gift bags than actually go shopping.”

“Watch your language, young man. Come on, gift shopping isn’t optional.”

I set the example, walking down the hall to grab my keys to the Mustang before heading out the door. The air is cold and nips at my skin, but I grit my teeth and dash to my car, opening the door to get in. Asher follows along dutifully, but I know he’s only doing so because he feels obligated.

Asher is my challenging child, and I say that because he’s entitled. He thinks everything should be handed to him on a silver platter because we can afford it. He lacks respect; no matter how hard I try to instill it in him, he resists.

Sometimes, I wish he had a reason to rebel like Tilly, but he doesn’t. His life has been easy, filled with more than he could ever need or want, yet it’s never enough. Carla says he’s just like Zach and that he must get it from him, but I’m not so sure.

Can that really be a trait passed down through genetics? No, it’s because we haven’t set enough boundaries. Yes, the kids have rules, but we, as parents, have never fully enforced them as a team, leaving room for him to push the limits.

He pushes, especially with Tyler and me, because we’re the softies, while Zach and Callum play the enforcers. It usually works with the other kids, but not with Asher and, to some extent, Tilly.

We spend the morning shopping, popping in and out of every store, and despite his earlier complaints, Asher ends up having fun. He shows me things he thinks his siblings would like. And he’s beaming when he finds the perfect gift for Carla.

He’s a good kid underneath all that defiance. I just wish I could reach his softer side and help him shed the tough exterior he’s built up. So, I spend most of my day helping my son buy the gifts I’m now wrapping in my bedroom. A promise is a promise, after all.

He even bought different wrapping paper for each person, which makes things easier. I’m wrapping the last gift when Zach knocks on the door to the walk-in closet.

“Yes?” I call out.

“Asher told me you were wrapping his gifts. Can I come in?”

I glance around, noting that I only have Talya’s gift left to wrap, so I smile and eagerly invite Zach in.

“Yes, the coast is clear.”

Zach steps into the walk-in quickly, looking at the small pile of wrapped presents. I laugh when he raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“I thought we made the kids shop and wrap their own presents.”

“We do, but I had to bribe our dear son to go shopping, and now I’m paying the price. But only one more, and I’m done,” I admit, picking up the box of Talya’s favorite makeup items to wrap.

I cut the paper, wrap it around the box, and secure it with tape just as Zach finally touches me. His gentle kiss on the side of my neck makes me melt right where I sit, and I can’t help but smile.

“I’ve missed you, Vi,” he murmurs.

“It’s only been five hours since you last saw me,” I point out.

“That’s too long. You know how I am… I need your attention, baby.”

“Sure you do,” I chuckle, securing the last piece of wrapping paper with a piece of tape. I scribble Talya’s name on the label and push the gift to the side.

I pivot around, my gaze landing on Zach. He’s lounging behind me, his legs sprawled out as he leans back on his hands. He’s clad in nothing but jeans and a polo shirt.

No socks…damn. Why does he always do that?

“You’re quite the sight, waiting for me like that, sir,” I say.

“And you’re a vision with your hair cascading down your back. Come here?” His smirk is irresistible, his dimples beckoning me.

I crawl over to him, settling onto his lap, where I discover a pleasant surprise.

“Seems like someone’s eager,” I tease.

“Only when you’re near,” he replies, his thumb tracing my cheek.

Our passion for each other hasn’t faded over the years. I’m amazed at our endurance, especially considering Zach is in his fifties, but he seems more vigorous and insatiable than ever.

He’s more strategic about it now. He knows he has three of us to satisfy him, and he makes sure to have each of us at least once a day.

My favorite moments are when I stumble upon him with Ty or Cal. I just stand there, watching them express their love for each other, and it’s incredibly arousing.

Sometimes, I climax at the same time, slipping away unnoticed without ever revealing my presence. I owe that skill to Zach, the ability to orgasm without making a sound.

“Let me help with that…it must be tough being so aroused all the time,” I jest, pushing him back so he’s lying down. I trail down his body, unbuttoning his shirt so I can taste his sculpted torso.

His groan only encourages me to unfasten his jeans, revealing his erection straining against his boxers.

“He looks desperate; has it been three…four hours?” I tease, freeing his cock and taking it in my hand.

“So long…,” he murmurs, even though we both know it’s been less.

“Perhaps my mouth can help?” I suggest, running my tongue along him.

“Your mouth is more than helpful…damn,” he groans as I take him deep into my throat.

I suck him, moving as quickly and skillfully as I can.

“Slower…,” he instructs, so I reduce my pace. “That’s my girl; such a naughty little minx you are.”

Just the thought of him in my mouth is enough to excite me, but hearing him call me his pet name makes me wetter.

He doesn’t let me finish him off that way. Instead, after he’s had his fill of my mouth, he pulls me up, kisses me, and then places me on the floor.

“On all fours,” he orders, discarding his clothes.

I love being on all fours, waiting for him to tear off my panties. That’s his favorite part, did you know?

He hikes my dress up my back, caressing my buttocks before delivering a light smack.

“Your skin always blushes so beautifully,” he murmurs to himself.

“Are you ready, little minx?”

“Always,” I whisper.

“Good, because this won’t be gentle, baby.”

He doesn’t give me any more warning. He thrusts into me so deeply that I gasp, jolting forward.

“Quiet! Now,” he cautions but doesn’t slow down.

He wasn’t kidding. His desire for me is so intense that we both climax within minutes.

“Zach…” I moan his name as pleasure unfurls deep within me.

“That’s it, little minx, milk me for all I’m worth,” he grunts through clenched teeth.