Holly's Jolly Christmas

Amanda had decided to spend the entire week of Christmas with her mother, which meant from Christmas Eve to New Year's Day. She was sure that Shelly, her lead manager, and the rest of the crew, could handle the orders without fail. It was the busiest time of the year, though, and success now would put her in the black for years to come. They even had a new scented candle out this year, Baked Turkey, which had been immensely popular. She was just so thankful that her mother had loaned her the money to start in the first place.

She arrived home and saw that her mother was yet to put up the tree, much less any of the other decorations. When she asked why, her mother, Holly, said with a defeated tone, "Why even bother?"

Holly was out paying some bills that she had put off till the last minute, so Amanda decided to take this time to pull the decorations from the closet and make things a bit more festive. It was her contention that her mother's spirits would lighten if the atmosphere were more joyous.

First was the wreath, which she placed upon the door; next was the lights, which she strung across the shrubs in front of the house; and then there was the six-inch lighted Christmas tree, Santa Claus, and Frosty the Snowman that she placed in the living room window. She reached for a box marked GARLANDS and opened it. Inside were the garlands, but something else as well.

Amanda pulled a book with the word "LEDGER" embossed in gold lettering at the top. Curious, she opened it to find it was not a ledger at all, but a diary. Her mother's diary. She knew she shouldn't, but that curiosity got the better of her. She immediately turned to the last page to see when the most recent entry had been made, and was surprised to find that it was yesterday. She still hadn't read it yet. She could still put it away, but she was dying to know what secrets her mother kept.

She turned to the first page and the entry was dated August 3, 1997.

Dear Diary,

I am twenty-three years old and I have never experienced an orgasm. My husband, Brad, is an excellent lover. He is very attentive, but he just can't seem to get me to that special place. I've tried masturbation, dildoes, and even vibrators, but nothing seems to work. What am I to do? Should I be deprived of life's greatest gift?

Amanda skimmed more of the entries, but they all were pretty much the same, talking about how her mother and father tried various things, but nothing seemed to work. Then she came upon one dated January 14, 2008 that read:

Dear Diary,

We received word today that Brad had been killed in action. If ever there was a reason for me to not have an orgasm the rest of my life, this would be it.

Amanda read more, and there were entries stating that Holly had bought scores of vibrators through the years, yet none of them could do anything for her. Then there were posts that bespoke of the many different lovers Holly had taken since her husband's death in an effort to find that one person who could give her what she desired most. She wrote of fat men, skinny men, tall men, short men, different ethnicities ... but nothing.

Amanda turned to the last page.

December 23, 2017

Dear Diary,

I give up. I bought that damned "crawfish" that was supposed to work wonders on even the most frigid of women, and nothing. It functioned as it should, that is to say, it stimulated the clitoral hood while simultaneously stimulating the clitoris itself. I even bought the G-spot stimulator attachment as well, but nothing. I suppose I should just give up.

Amanda closed the book, placed it back in the box, covered it with the garland, and then closed the box. She returned it to the closet and pulled out the Christmas tree and ornaments. By the time Holly returned, the house looked like a proper Holiday home.

Holly's mood seemed to pick up just a little, so Amanda knew her efforts weren't in vain. Holly fixed them each a Cobb salad for dinner. They drank half a bottle of white zinfandel before retiring it in favor of a red. After dishes were done, the two moved to the living room where Amanda filled her mother in on her personal life, business affairs, and overall general stuff.

Holly listened, nodding in all the right places, but it was clear that her mind was miles away. In an attempt to pull her back to the here and now, Amanda said, "I am yet to buy your gift, Mama. What would you like?"

Holly waved her off as she said, "What I want ... What I truly want? Money can't buy." She then filled her glass with more wine, but before drinking it she reached into her purse and pulled out a bottle of Zanax. As she shook one out into her palm, Amanda said,

"You shouldn't mix those with alcohol, Mama. You know that."

"Whatever," Holly said before popping it into her mouth and draining the wine glass dry.

They continued to talk. This time Holly was telling her daughter of the goings-on in the tiny town, but this time it was Amanda who was miles away. Yes, she was looking at her mother, but it was more looking through her than anything else as she assessed exactly the life she had led, which was pretty good, considering.

At 11:45 the clock chimed, pulling Amanda from her semi-fugue state. She noticed her mother had passed out and her head had fallen to the side. She also noticed that the glass of wine was dangerously close to spilling on the sofa. She stood, took the wine glass and placed it on the coffee table, then cradled her mother's head as she lay her back against a cushion. She stood erect, took a step back, and just looked at her mother, and once again she began assessing what was as she asked herself,

How much do you love this woman, who gave birth to you and nurtured you and kissed your boo-boos? How much do you love this woman, who, after your father died, assumed the mantle of both parents and protected you from all life's harms? How much do you love this woman, who kept you on the proper scholastic track that you received a full scholarship to Harvard Business School? How much do you love this woman, who believed in you so much that she mortgaged her house to give you the start-up funds for a business that has proven to be insanely profitable? How much do you love her, Amanda? Do you love her enough to at least try to give her the one thing she has never had?

"Yes," she answered out loud, and got on her knees before her mother.

Amanda had never performed oral sex on a woman before. All she knew about it was what felt good to her, and what she had seen when watching the occasional porn flick. However, she had fantasized, she had said to herself on more than one occasion, "If I ever go down on a woman, this is how I'd do it," and it was with that thought that she removed her mother's panties and set herself to the task.

She just stared at her mother's vagina. She was glad that Holly at least kept herself manicured down there, and that aside, her mother really had a cute ... She didn't want to call it a pussy because she felt her mother deserved more reverence than that. What, then? It, she finally compromised, and looked lovingly at it.

She was nervous. Her breathing was erratic, her hands were shaking ... She decided that the only way to do it was to just do it, so she closed her eyes and eventually placed her mouth between her mother's legs. There was no immediate response from Holly, simply because Amanda had done nothing more than that.

She eased her mother's legs over her shoulders and wrapped her arms around the hips, resting her hands on Holly's lower abdomen. She then lightly sucked her mother's clit into her mouth and began softly stretching it back and forth as she gingerly flicked her tongue across the tip. After about a minute of this, Amanda felt Holly's abdomen tighten. It was as quick as a spasm, but it was enough to let her know that she may have found a good starting point. Another few minutes, and Holly's abdomen tightened again.

Amanda decided to try something different, so she slid her tongue under the clitoral hood and began moving it slowly in a clockwise motion while maintaining the same sucking pressure. After a minute, another muscle tense, only this time it was in both Holly's abdomen and in her thighs. This emboldened Amanda.

She used her top lip to push the hood up and away from her mother's clitoris, then began to apply direct clitoral stimulation added with more pressure. Her mother's entire abdomen tensed for a full ten seconds. She continued on in this way, and twenty seconds later another like spasm. She kept at it, and fifteen seconds later, another.

She began moving her head in a counterclockwise motion as her tongue worked feverishly to bring her mother to the land of milk and honey. Holly half-opened her eyes, looked dreamily at her daughter between her legs, and said, "A-Amanda?" just as she tensed again.

Amanda said nothing, yet she grabbed one of her mother's wrists and placed her hand on the back of her head. Holly closed her eyes as her head tilted back. She tensed again, then again, then again, and then the room was filled with her mewling cries as she finally experienced her first orgasm.

Her body was wracked with great spasms of joy as she reveled in the pleasure her daughter had brought her, and then it was wracked with even greater sobs of even greater joy as over thirty years of an inability to experience the most basic human sexual, emotional pleasure was washed away in an instant.

Amanda went to her mother's side. The clock chimed. She looked to see it was 12:15, Christmas Day. She smiled, kissed her mother on the cheek, and said, "Merry Christmas, Mama."

END