I was out of town at my sister's house for Christmas, not this last, but the one before that. There were many of us staying at my sister's house, so the only bed left was on the couch in the living room by the Christmas tree.

I was up very late helping Santa, and after that, I stayed up even longer, drinking some whiskey and thinking about lost loved ones and friends I missed; Christmas stirs up memories and emotions.

I woke up early in the morning to the sound of someone shuffling gifts around, but I didn't open my eyes right away—I was trying to keep from waking up fully. I drifted back to sleep and partially awoke again, a few times, while the sister of my sister's husband, Sharon, rustled with gifts and stockings—last-minute Santa duties.

When I woke up enough to realize what was happening and sit up on the couch, Sharon was right in front of me, finishing up her stocking placement. I had a raging hard-on. I'd probably had one for a while because I was dreaming about something sexual.

Once I sat up, I could conceal my situation pretty well, but I knew that while I was asleep and on my back, with no blanket, my hard-on must have been discovered; how could she not have seen?

Sharon was there with her kids and stayed at my sister's a few days after her husband's work wanted him back. She flirted, not with intent, but with a touch of daring. The last night she was there, she stayed up late watching "Bad Santa" with me—this made me wonder even more if she'd seen what was happening before I awoke Christmas morning.

There was no safe or moral way for us to initiate anything, but I was getting horny sitting next to her, thinking about stuff that couldn't happen. I wondered if she had a bra under her oversize, long-sleeved flannel pajama top. My guess was no.

With the help of the alcohol and the joint we'd just smoked (legal in Colorado), I apologized for Christmas morning.

"I want to clear the air, so I'm just going to say it," I told Sharon. "I'm sorry about Christmas morning—when you were down here and had to see that."

Whether she saw it or not, she acted like she didn't know what I was talking about. Now she was curious and wanted to know what I was talking about.

"I was dreaming about something hot and had a male situation going on when you came down," I said. "You were right in front of me when I woke up; you had to have seen, didn't you?"

She never admitted to seeing anything but responded in a way I never expected. First, she swore she didn't see anything and was too focused on finishing the Christmas stalkings before her kids awoke. Then she said, "Darn it though, wish I'd seen that."

"You wish you saw this?" I said, and quickly pulled down my plaid, Ralph Lauren flannel pajamas and flashed her.

"Wait, let me see that," she responded (let me see more of it is what I think she meant.)

"You just saw," I said.

"If you're going to do that, show me, or not, but don't be a chicken shit," she said.

I let her see again, of course. She looked until I put it away.

Then, we agreed it was only fair for her to show her tits. She wasn't wearing a bra.

We couldn't hook up, but the moment was arousing, and I think we both went to bed horny and sexually frustrated.

Part two will be about what happened this year.