Holidays are awkward and surreal. There is all this expectation and hope, anxiety, and anticipation. Much like one’s first time. First time in love. First time having sex. It was probably why I chose this exact season to be deflowered. I had waited long enough for it, over thirty years.

I was hoping to wait 'til marriage but learning I was polyamorous, that was probably not going to happen given the current laws only recognize monogamy. 

I was staying with her friends, I say the word ‘friends’ loosely. I don’t know how well she knew them, but they made no effort to know me. I was staying there for only a short period of time, so what was the point?

They were out of town for the winter holiday weekend and I was allowed to invite my partner over for the whole weekend. It was a big family house and for that weekend, it felt like it was my house, even though it was an illusion.  I’m dissociative, so sure, I’ll take a delusion from the mythic Santa Claus as my Yuletide gift.  I wanted to be a gift to her.  

She was anxious when she arrived. Quiet and tense. I was worried my plans weren’t going to happen and I’d have to hold on to my flower for a while longer. We watched some TV in tense silence for a while.

“Are you okay?” I asked. 

“Mmhmm!” She beamed with a polite smile.  

I wasn't convinced. “What’s wrong? You seem tense.”

“Uhmm… Nothing. I’m just… acclimating. Trying to tell my brain that this is my partner’s house and reframe how I am allowed to behave while I’m here.”

That alone should have told me how well she knew these people she let me stay with. People who merely tolerated my presence in their tucked away family home in a cul-de-sac in some strange suburban town where they had no sidewalks in residential areas. The living room of this house looked like it was made in the 1970s and all that was missing was the Brady Bunch family or a conversation-pit style couch in the living room for a love-in with lots of tie-dye dressed hippies.

I nodded and moved closer to lean against her, as the couples do.  I’d never been an offline couple before. I was excited to be able to do all the "couple things," like holding her hand while watching a movie. Lean my head against her shoulder. Couple things.

I’d like to think it was that contact that helped her acclimate and relax. She took off her shoes soon after,  her socks. She left them there in the middle of the living room floor like she lived there. Like we lived there. Like a couple. A couple in love. 

Soon there was nothing interesting on TV. None of the streaming services had anything entertaining to capture our interest. So I suggested we go to my room. She had picked up on my plans for the night already.  I may have asked if we could do it this weekend before she had come over, maybe that was part of why she was nervous. I had never been with anyone, and well, she’d never been with another trans person since she came out as trans herself, a few years ago.  She’d had plenty of experience with men. She was even married to one. I never really thought about how she might have been nervous too, til after. Years after. 

My bedroom was modest. There was only a small twin mattress on the floor in the back corner of the room. The lights were off. My parents had sent me a few strings of Christmas lights to adorn my room. I was flattered that they were worried,  even though they knew I was no longer a Christian, I didn’t want to explain the meaning of Yule and basically come out of the broom closet - again. Besides, I liked Christmas lights. And I knew they would make perfect mood lighting for tonight. Instead of just the window to cast foggy shadows of moonlight into the room like some noir movie. 

“Do you like the lights?”  I asked. 

“Mmhmm!” She beamed. 

“Pretty,” she said as she turned to look at me, twisting her ankle idly as we stood there,  the tension building only accented by the awkwardness of the silence.

“I’m not sure if you still want to do this, I’m a little tired.”

“Can I at least see you?”

“Okay. I just wanted to warn you that I was tired in case I’m not… at my best.”

I nodded. I just wanted to see her. I wanted to see one person naked, offline. I wanted to touch her, even if it was just caressing her skin as she fell asleep next to me. So I watched as she took off her clothes. Shirt first, then wiggled her ass out of her dark jeans and underwear.  She stood there by the bed - naked and vulnerable.  Looking at me looking at her.  I was still standing by the door. I thought the awe I felt looking at her beautiful naked body showed on my face, but the room was dark, and I’ve since learned that I don’t emote my face as well as I think I do. 

She looked nervous but she smiled. It was… it was demure and a little coy. Something that was trained into her or something that was reflex.

“Can I see you?” She asked.

“Oh! Y-Yes”  

I took my clothes off so fast that she giggled at my eagerness. I was glad for it. I didn’t want my anxiety to talk me out of doing this.  So we stood there - naked in the dark.  Like all those stories I love so much. I was in one of those stories now.  Kissing a tall beautiful woman in the dark,  feeling her hands on my skin. I’d watched enough porn so I thought I had some idea of what to do mechanically, it would become more of learning what she liked, how she liked her body to be touched. And what I liked too, and how I liked to be touched. I didn’t know if it was a mercy or not that I am so fucking direct. The loud masculine ‘eagerness’ of my brain could only think of one thing. And I blurted it out before I could swallow the words back and try for something smoother, something sweeter and more romantic.

“Can I suck it?” 

She giggled, the sound husky and a bit sultry. 

“Yeah, it might not get hard though”

“Well, does it still feel good?”

“Yes, I suppose, it does.”

“Then I can suck it soft?”

“Mmhmm, just be gentle, the hormones make my body super sensitive” 

She moved to get on the bed and I got on the bed after her.  Her skin was so delicate and soft, she made sharp, gasping, breathy sounds once I touched it and started to suck on it. I liked the way it felt in my mouth.  That eagerness was starting to take over again and I found myself sucking harder and harder, trying to get more sounds from her, enjoying the way her noises made me more and more aroused. 

“Oooh, ah, ah-hey, hey, go slower, more gentle, it’s sensitive."  She moaned in an adorably pouty way.

I tried to do as she asked, but I didn't know how well a job I was doing, because she started to get quieter the more gentle and the slower I sucked.  I was confused. I thought she was supposed to be making more noise. 

There isn’t much porn where the girl is silent. I stopped and looked up at her, wanting to check-in.  She looked relaxed, and content.  Her eyes were so green,  that they almost matched the green in the twinkling lights hanging in the room.  Her dark hair was kind of all over her head, short-ish and spiky.  

“Do you want to taste me?” I asked.  

“Yeah, okay”   

And then we swapped places. I lay on my back and opened my legs to her, and suddenly all my mind could process was there was someone’s mouth on my body, wet and wild and all over. It was pleasant, if not a bit chaotic.  I heard soft growling, before -

"Ah! Careful with the teeth, please"

I guess I didn’t like pain as much as I thought I did. At least, not there.

After a few moments, she moved up to lay next to me. I tasted myself on her lips.  The savory wetness of me.  I always knew how to make her tremble by kissing her mouth. There, her teeth were okay, I gently scraped back with my teeth on her lower lip. She was such a masochistic pain slut she’d always whimper into my mouth in that way that made my blood go hard. 

“I’m gonna switch.” She broke the kiss enough to whisper into the intimate space between our lips, like a warning. 

“Who is gonna join in?” I asked.

And when she said his name, I felt every kinky Little in my system flow forward.  

We’re plural you see,  both of us house many in one body and she’d switched first, and it was almost contagious, once one person starts switching, it starts a domino effect of anyone else plural in the same space to switch as well. Like some sort of shared wavelength, we were both in tune with. 

I heard him growl. The Littles fondly called him the Monster.  He’s kind of a beast being - sadistic and a kind of embodied darkness that the embodied innocence of my kinky Littles was drawn to like a moth to a flame. There was a seductive gravity to him like the Beckoning of the Void.

“Hi Monster…”

“Mmm… your voice is sweet…”

“I like your voice too… it's gravely,” the Littles swooned.

“Is that right?”

“Uh-huh!”

And he growled again, slowly, with an almost slithering swagger he moved to kiss, and nibble on our neck. I was losing more and more of the front to the Littles. They wanted to play with him. They wanted to be consumed by the Monster. I could feel how badly they needed it. There were so many dark fantasies flashing in their minds.  

“Free me…”  The Littles whined in unison -  as if the virginity we still held onto were some sort of shackle, some sort of chain, some sort of prison.

“Gladly…”

And he lifted the sheets to finger between our legs. It was awkward at first - nails were too sharp, and he wasn’t hitting the right spots. He was groping but it was too blind.  I felt a pout escape my lips, as one of us moved his hand to guide him where to touch, and once we made that pleasure pout sound, he inhaled a sharp breath and exhaled a moan, deep and possessive.

 “That’s it. Let me hear you… no one here but us.”

And a chorus of whimpers and pouting moans sailed into the dark like an offering to the Night, itself.  An offering to Yule.  But it wasn’t enough.  I didn’t know what was missing but we needed more. 

“Talk to me..."

“Mmm, what would you like me to say?”

“I don't know I just want to hear your voice, please, please..”

“Ooh,  my voice in particular?” The Monster chuckled at the way we writhed against his fingers as his breath was harsh and heavy against our skin.

“Yes." It was barely a whisper of a reply, as we kept writhing, his fingers pressing and pressing just right, that we were teetering, teetering, and whimpering in an adorably pouty way.  

"That's right, Little ones, that's right, moan for Monster." He growled softly as he moved more on top and the pressure and weight of his bigger, taller body on mine was comforting. He slipped a finger inside and it felt awkward -  some sound we made  - made him withdraw the penetration slowly.  Moaning as he licked the taste from his finger and then leaned down and kissed our throat again, nibbling at the ear lobe, a giant hand palmed to our chest, squeezing. It freed a long and captive gasp and when his voice spoke again, it felt like a shivering spear as its caress claimingly spiked through my spine with a subtle hint of respect from someone whose first instinct is to protect and keep safe.

“Maybe the Little ones need their toy,  it's hard to feel relaxed without your comfort object, right?”

The Hitachi wand was out a second later,  it was already plugged into the outlet by the mattress.  I helped show him the angle we needed.  And his mouth was on our neck - growling. We kept whimpering for him,  moaning and the vibrations were in the right spot, and still… it wasn’t going to be enough.

I knew how to.  I knew what an orgasm felt like. Why wouldn’t it happen when I had someone real next to me? 

I was too lost in my head and had gone quiet too long. I could hear them switching again.  She was back,  staring at me, watching - her head on the pillow. In the silence, I had turned the toy off. I didn't remember doing that.  I opened my eyes to look at her.  She smiled at me. 

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Mmhmm! Are you?” 

I ran my hand over her shoulder pressing a kiss on her lips again for a brief moment.

“Didn’t you say once a bit back, that you had a spot that if someone pressed it right, it could make you come?”

She smiled slowly. “Yes. I’m surprised you remember that.”

“Can you show me where it is?”

She took my hand, a bit eagerly this time, and placed it somewhere between her legs. 

“Oh! Th-There!” She groaned in a way that was complete pleasure, her face even frowned with pleasure.  I pressed harder and she called out, moaning loudly the harder I pressed that special spot, her whole body,  long and tall, started to curl uncontrollably against me,  just consecutively orgasming the longer I pressed that specific spot.  I knew I’d never be able to find it on my own.  She’d have to tell me where it was each time.  I began to think of it as her clitoris.  Even though biologically, she didn’t necessarily have one. 

She kept curling and groaning against me, just cumming, and cumming and cumming. Her trained higher-pitch voice got lower and lower to that baritone deep voice that I knew she kept in check at all times. It was beautiful to watch her just contort in pleasure  - no screens, no buffering. It was real.  She was really feeling happy things.  I was making her feel happy things.  

I told myself it was real, not a fake orgasm because if she was going to make fake pleasure sounds she would have earlier when I had her in my mouth, right?  That and I could sense it. I could taste the energy flowing out of her in waves upon waves, upon waves. It was decadent, delicious, delightful.  I didn’t know women like her could orgasm without ejaculating.

After a moment she pushed my hand away,  her body gasping for breath - too sensitive and worn out. I moved my hand so she could finish catching her breath.  I started rubbing her back and shoulders, smoothing her dark hair back out of her face. Her body was clammy with sweat-like dew.  

Her breath slowly regulated and she motioned - asking nonverbally -  for her nicotine vape, and I moved to get it for her.  Mumbling a thank you to me,  once I returned to bed, she rolled to her back and took a long drag to expel a giant cloud - like a sleepy dragon.  That was the last thought the Littles had before I felt them retreat and I was pushed back to the front. They at least seemed satisfied.  

The front was mine now.  And I was wired.  I felt fed and alert from all the erotic energy surging inside me now.  

My first energetic feed - an awakening,  I’d waited thirty-three years for this.  Thirty-three years to feel this bright and potent exhilaration. I felt invincible. Kind of restless and jittery, inspired and tapped into the Beyond,  practically vibrating with so many ideas, and so much Life! 

She took another puff of the vape and the way she’d re-adjusted in bed,  I knew she had switched again. The one with the boyish smile, that’s who was fronting for her now.  He was different from the monster,  but he was also different from her.  He took a few more drags of the vape in silence. It smelled like fruit.  It was nice.  I didn’t know what to do with myself. They were falling asleep and I didn’t know what to do. I tried to cuddle and sleep too, but  I couldn’t.  The world was too alive in my head, too loud and alive to just sleep.

I rolled over and stared at the ceiling, listening to the steady in and out of breath from her next to me. Completely zonked out and officially asleep now. I tugged on the blanket that was tangled around her long, long legs.  I received a growl as she rolled over toward the wall and clutched the pillow. The blanket was properly stolen and claimed with no luck of getting enough to cover me too.  And I didn’t feel comfortable being naked anymore now that the sex was over.  

I quietly put clothes back on and went back out into the big front room -  if it were really mine,  there probably really would be a conversation pit-style couch, lava lamps, door beads, and probably tie-dye hippies too. I wondered what snack I could eat.  I never knew what was safe to eat, and the owners of this house -  they were out for the weekend and didn’t think to do any shopping before they left, because, well,  they weren’t going to be here. And I was a grown-up, I could fend for myself for food. They weren’t my parents, they weren’t required to feed me. They were never very keen on letting me know what I was allowed to eat or not anyway.  I could always tell that they wished I wasn’t here. 

I suddenly felt very alone.  I didn’t understand why.   I had just had sex.  I had done nearly all the grown-up things I was supposed to do.  I had held a job,  I had fallen in love, I had had sex.  I was not even in my parents' house. I wasn’t even in the same state as my parents. I had left the nest.  I had done everything right.   And yet, I felt… like this was not what I was expected to feel after all those achievements. 

I turned on the TV.   Star Trek Voyager was always pretty good at making me feel better. Maybe doing real sex, and expecting it to be like it was in porn was the problem.  Maybe when she wakes up, we can try again and maybe order a pizza. Yeah, pizza sounded good.  There was a throw blanket on the couch, I curled up with it and leaned my head on the armrest -  she was leaning on this armrest when she first arrived.  Her shoes and socks were still there in front of me on the floor.  She was real. What just happened really happened. It wasn’t a delusion.  It wasn’t a dream.

The last thing I remember was Seven of Nine’s voice saying something to a drone on the TV, before sleep slowly slid over me. The darkness of it was as delicious as her kiss,  as the monster’s touch,  as delightful as the howling Yuletide wind that serenaded my blooming winter blossom self deep, deep into the remaining night.  

Second star to the right and straight on to Yule morning, the awakened demon slept soundly, snoring...