Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Steven at Christmas

Please pardon me if this post is less coherent than usual. I didn't get much time to relax yesterday thanks to a mouse terrorizing me most of the day. Won't go in too much detail, but let's just say the entrance to my kitchen is blocked off by boxes. Also, any of you last minute shoppers still have time to cash in on some holiday deals. I've already gotten some gifts from readers, and while I'm not opening any until Christmas (mostly because they're about the only gifts I'm going to get this year), I can say that I look forward to taking pictures with any and everything that gets sent my way. And, of course, I will share those pictures with all you fine readers.

It has been way too long since I wrote about my first boyfriend, the wrestler, Steve. If I had to give a reason for this, it would be partly because I didn't feel like exploring this old relationship, and partly because I wanted to save this particular story for Christmas season. I suppose this is what could be considered the "Christmas Special" of my life. Not the last time I had sex around Christmas, but definitely the most memorable of all my experiences so far. I even came up with a lame little rhyme about it:

Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the place
not a creature was stirring
except for our Ace

The stalkings were hung
by the chimney with care
the furnace turned up
'gainst the cold winter air

When all of a sudden
Ace made a commotion
excited to see Steve's car
in the street (still in motion)

Steve parked in the driveway
he raced to the door
where he and Ace hugged
as if they'd never done it before

Enough of that foolishness. Basically, my mother had left to spend Christmas Eve with her sister, and my father was going to be picking me up the next morning to go to his own family thing, setting a precedent for leaving me alone on holidays (not as bad as it sounds, honest). That meant I had the house to myself that night, and that was something Steve and I were damn well going to take advantage of. A quick explanation to his parents that I was going to be alone that night was all it took for them to allow him to visit me and spend the afternoon and evening. Like I have said before, his parents liked me and thought that Steve was acting as an older brother I didn't have, which worked for us as far as sneaking around went.

Within moments of him walking through the door, we were both naked and making out on the couch. With his cock pressing against me as hard as it was, I couldn't do anything but pull my legs back and let him enter me. It was a quick fuck, spurred on by how horny we were to be alone in my house for the whole afternoon after not having seen much of each other over the school break. After we simply enjoyed each other's company, kissing, groping, dozing off in each other's arms. We watched movies and talked and kissed some more.

When it was dinner time I started heating up some food for us and he pulled out a bottle of wine (that's right, underage sex and underage drinking, what a blog!). I politely sipped the wine, but I wasn't very interested. Back then I thought the fruity flavor was gross and hated the after taste. Steve didn't drink too much either, though it was clear that he was much more used to drinking wine than I was. Just another way that he was cooler and way more mature than I was, at the time.

After dinner I started a fire in the fireplace, even though my mother had told me not to. We curled under a blanket and cuddled for a while. Then Steve pulled out a box and handed it to me. Inside were three things. The first was a pair of jeans that fit me perfectly, and the second was a nice shirt, both things which must have cost him some serious cash (to a fourteen year old at least). The last item was more of a sexy/cute gift: a pair of small green boxers with little bells made to look like something an elf would wear. We both laughed with the joy of youth while I posed in my new, sexy elf shorts. Before long the shorts were on the floor and we were naked and fooling around again.

Steve stayed later than he was supposed to, partially because I refused to stop clinging to him. Sitting in the dim living room in the flashing lights from the tree, we talked about everything and nothing and held each other close. When the clock on the TV turned to midnight, Steve pulled me in for a deep, soothing kiss. "Merry Christmas," he said softly to me. It was the first time I ever felt perfectly in love with someone. When I think back on my time with Steve, that moment often is the one that I see first. I returned his Christmas wishes and then watched as he dressed and drove away.


  1. Loved your rhymes and your writing.

    Love hearing about young love and sex. Of course I am still waiting for my young love ...is it ever to old to have young love?

    I agree about spending Christmas alone...it's better at times than with the family. This year's plans include me going to my favorite bars to get fucked and bred. What are your plans this year?

    Merry Christmas Ace!

  2. This brought a tear to boy's eye, thinking about spending time with You. It won't be Christmas by the calendar but You make every day feel like Christmas to Your boy.

  3. """""not a creature was stirring except for our Ace"""""

    After reading your tweets yesterday that stirring was a mouse....lol

    It's always nice at certain times to think back to a special event from days gone by. Sounds like if you had a time machine you could set the date back to that time with Steve and go back to relive it again.

  4. This was beautiful. How wonderful to have such an incredibly loving memory of your time with Steve. What a great Christmas present. rjd

  5. VRPB,

    Glad you enjoyed my silly little rhyme. I don't think one is ever too old to have young love. People who think so are just grouchy. If you're open to young love, you'll get it.

    Have fun going to the bars. My plans are mostly about sleeping and maybe eating. Maybe. If I can wake up for it.


  6. boy,

    Stop being so sweet! You'll give me diabetes.


  7. Cyberi4a,

    I'm trying not to think about the mouse anymore. So of course all I can think about is the mouse.


  8. RJD,

    I do like remembering times when people were very kind and loving with me. Helps to not remember all the times I've been ignored. That's a joke. My life isn't all that sad.


  9. ". . . The stalkings were hung
    by the chimney with care . . . "

    You were nice indeed, Ace, to share your creativity. Even in jest, you display talent as a poet. Did I not quite get a clever play on words, tho -- or was the spell checker being naughty (as they are very wont to do)?

    Would a friend be willing to board their cat chez vous, for a day or two? This might turn the tables on your terrorist mouse, as well the little nasty deserves. Failing that, a good old mousetrap, icky and tacky as those undeniably are, might be worth reconsidering. Peanut butter laced with rat poison is another option, neither of which would meet with Anna Madrigal's approval.

    You are mature and observant to note that a Xmas spent alone is not the tragedy Madison AVE and Lynchburg WV would have us believe. A day without family drama, gaudy decorations, and music too maudlin for words (nonetheless provided) is like a day *with* sunshine. No one does vulgar materialism quite like Americans; and America outdoes itself Xmas after Xmas.

    Felix Saturnalia,
    Semper Anonymous