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Message-ID: <55041asstr$1166836203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: antheros@REMOVEgmail.com
Subject: {ASSM} [Secret Santa]Red Nose (M/F, f/f)
Red Nose (M/F, f/f)
by Antheros 
 [antheros  A T  gmail.com]
 http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Antheros/www/
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Date: Fri, 22 Dec 2006 20:10:03 -0500
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Secret Santa story written for Aquillae



I suppose this time of the year brings memories to everybody.
Children long for Christmas, but, I think, most adults don't. When I
was a kid, I used to wait for Christmas, counting each day to it.

"I want to adopt a kid, John," I said. "You know it. It's time."

John wasn't fond of the idea of adopting. He wouldn't say anything,
of course--he was afraid to hurt my feelings, since I was adopted
myself. I know he wanted a child of his own.

Those were long six months, waiting, talking to people, filling
forms. But, in the end, Dana came home with us.

I'm not sad to be an orphan; I guess I was lucky in my orphanage, or
perhaps it's just because I don't remember much of my life there. I
was seven when I was adopted. Most of my memories from the orphanage
are from later visits.

When I was a child, I used to ask my parents to go back to the
orphanage every Christmas. Jenny was my best friend there, and she
was the main reason I wanted to go back.

"Lucky dumbo," I remember Jenny said when I told her I was going to
be adopted, though she had a smile and hugged me. I was lucky, indeed.

My parents, I think, didn't like those trips. I did. "They are
lonely," I told my parents. "Jenny has no family." I felt sad and
happy when someone I knew wasn't there anymore, and I always made new
friends. But Jenny was always there.

"Nobody will want me, Sarah. I'm too old. Too ugly."

"That's not true," I told her. "You're the same age I am."

"Yeah, but you were adopted years ago."

"You will be adopted too," I said.

"No, you know I won't. I'm old and ugly."

"You're not!"

"I am," she said. She pretended to be joking, but I knew she thought
it to be true. When I visited, we invented families for her. Her
dream family, her nightmare family, her 'good to spend vacations
with' family. There was an endless list of them.

But, when Christmas comes, I think of what happened later more the
good times I had with Jenny. It all started in the Christmas I was
thirteen.

"I kissed a boy," Jenny told me, after some gossiping.

"Really?"

"Really."

"What was it like?" I was curious. I hadn't had my first kiss yet.

"Ah, I don't know. Good."

"You didn't like it? Who did you kiss?"

"I won't tell."

"Oh, come on, Jenny."

Jenny waited a moment, just to make me beg some more, then whispered
to my ear.

"Keith."

I froze. Keith was cute, and Jenny knew I liked him more than any
other of the boys. I was jealous of her, for having kissed a boy, for
having kissed before me, for having kissed Keith. And, I think--now,
at least, so many years later, I can confess it to myself--for
someone else having kissed her.

"Keith?"

"Yes."

I think I stood quiet and shocked, and Jenny noticed it. I tried to
disguise it as soon as I could, but Jenny knew I liked him. She told
me about the kiss, I pretended to be interested, and we moved on to
another subject.

Before I left, she told me she had to show me one last thing. She
grabbed my hand and took me away, to a quiet corner below the
stairwell.

"What is it?"

She kissed me. That was my very first kiss. I felt her lips on mine,
and then her tongue, entering my mouth. I felt her hands on my hips,
pulling me to her; I felt her warm lips, a new yet familiar feeling.
When our lips parted, she had a strange look on her face. I remember
it vividly; there was a gleam, a spark on her eyes, and a puzzling
look. She was blushed, not too much, but it was noticeable. I must
have been as red as a tomato.

"This was the best Christmas ever," she whispered to me, and we went
back. My parents were waiting for me.

That incident kept my head busy for days--for the entire year,
actually. I can't say for sure what I though then. Were my feelings
for her more than just friendship? I couldn't be in love with a girl,
could I? Did she love me?

It was a long year, spent wondering about those questions. I thought
about visiting the orphanage again before Christmas, but I couldn't
bring myself to asking my parents. I was afraid that they would find
something out.

The next year I went back. We talked for a while--conversation with
Jenny was always easy. At some point, she decided to tell me
something.

"I stuffed the turkey this year."

"You're finally cooking! You stuffed it with what?" I asked her.

Jenny stopped, giving me a look.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"Yeah, cooking."

Jenny grinned to me, tilting her head.

I froze.

"You didn't!"

"I did."

"No way!"

"Way!"

"You're lying."

"I'm not!"

If I was jealous the previous year, this time I was angry. I was
angry for so many reasons that I couldn't even begin to talk about
it. I was angry at Jenny because I had spent the entire year with
those questions pestering me, making me lose my sleep: if I liked
girls, if I was in love with her. And if she was in love with me. I
was worried that any of these things could be true, and also worried
that they could not be. And then, she did that; it seemed to me that
the kiss we shared had meant nothing to her. She went on, to prove it.

"I did. And more than once. I felt his hard cock entering me. I
screamed. I came. Do you know what is to have an orgasm? I bet you
never had one. It's like nothing else. I bet you never even saw a
cock. Not even a picture."

I ran away, crying. I didn't want to let me parents see me crying,
or anyone else, actually. Jenny ran after me and held me.

"Your life is easy. You became a spoiled bitch, that comes here to
show off every year."

"I don't come back for showing off," I said.

"Yeah, right."

"I like being here. I like you."

"Sure, you spend one day here, then you go back to your pretty
house, to your pretty life."

"Stop it!"

"Oh, you want me to stop? Oh, oh. The rich spoiled girl wants
something. Let's all do it for her."

I got away. I washed my face and went back to my parents. I told
them I wasn't feeling well, and I had thrown up. They took me home,
but I'm sure mom knew I was lying.

I never came back. I was afraid and ashamed. I heard news of Jenny
from time to time; none of them, however, good. I hope they aren't
true; but I'm just fooling myself. She probably wasted her life, just
like I heard it.

Every Christmas I remember her.

-=-

Dana was on my lap last night. I love her so much, she is really my
daughter. John loves her too. She was giggling and talking to me,
playful and lovely.

"Why does Rudolph have a red nose?" Dana asked me, looking at the
big Christmas poster in her room.

"To light the way for Santa," I answered.

"I thought it was because they were out of black ones," Dana
replied. I laughed.

"Did you know you have a red nose, Dana?"

"I do?" she said, giggling and touching her nose.

"Yes, you do," I said. "And so do I," I thought. Red noses among a
sea of black ones. We have to take care of each other.


-fini-
--Antheros [antheros  A T  gmail.com] 
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Antheros/www/

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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