Last year I devoted an entire column to horrifying true stories of desperate and/or depressing holiday sex. This year, at the suggestion of a reader, I’m devoting the space to my readers’ favorite, fondest, and most cherished (sex-related) holiday experiences. Enjoy.
Which brings us to the holiday memory. At Christmas he came to visit. Something about being in my parents’ home, all that pumpkin pie and wholesomeness, made us randy. When we got into bed that night, sex finally felt like we had always imagined it! We stayed up all night and tried everything. He smacked me, and I bit him and pulled his hair. We screamed into pillows. That was the first time we really FUCKED.
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We found a small room used for storage. She put her finger to my lips, dropped to her knees, and blew me with more skill than anyone since. She finished with a swallow, tucked me back in, and we went back to the party. Thus began a very sweet relationship that lasted a year and a half, until we left to go to different colleges.
On Christmas, tired of my family, I went to visit my best friend, a gay guy. Suddenly he announced, “I want some porn.” We climbed into my car and drove to the 24-hour adult bookstore. My friend, having listened to my tale of woe, said, “You really need to have a vibrator.” So on Christmas night, $20 from my grandma in my pocket, I selected a little bullet-shaped vibrator. The clerk smirked. “No charge to the newbie,” she said. When I dropped my gay friend off he said, “Don’t forget the clitoris. Merry Christmas, you ho-ho-ho!”
A few years back, my brother’s girlfriend stopped by to give me some “Hanukkah weed,” saying that weed and sex go great together. Needless to say, my girlfriend and I celebrated Hanukkah with eight crazy nights of extraordinary weed-fueled sex. Since then, weed has been dubbed “Hanukkah presents” in my crowd. We spend a lot of time lighting up the menorah.
I was wearing a Santa suit at the time.
