‘What’s wrong, Aunt Holly,’ Liz said, ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
She slid the box shut with surprising equanimity. ‘Nothing. I think they made the bottle smaller. Thank you, Tom, that was very thoughtful.’
Her words were cold and distant, and Tom didn’t know what to think. He looked at her, trying to glean something from her body language, but it seemed oddly neutral, as though conflicted. When all the gifts had been exchanged, everyone dispersed to get showered and dressed, with Holly taking her “wine” to her room.
She slid Tom’s gift under the bed, glad to get it out of sight. What possessed him to do it? she thought. Was he making fun of her, or was he simply a pervert and she hadn’t realised? Either way, she knew she had to confront him later. How she’d go about it, though, she had no idea.
*
Holly hadn’t spoken to Tom by the time everyone sat down for Christmas dinner. A myriad of delights adorned the table; turkey, stuffing, and roast vegetables among them. Plates were piled high, wine was poured, and crackers were pulled, then the Jamieson family tucked into the heartiest meal of their year.
‘That was phenomenal, Jules,’ said Bill after he swallowed his last bite of turkey.
‘I just wish it lasted longer,’ she said, ‘Hours to cook, minutes to eat.’
She began stacking everyone’s plates to take to the kitchen. As she reached over for Holly’s, she knocked over her sister’s glass, spilling wine all over her lap.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ she exclaimed, ‘I can’t believe how clumsy I am sometimes.’
‘Don’t worry, accidents happen,’ Holly said, dabbing herself with a napkin, ‘I’ll go upstairs and change.’
‘Bring your clothes down after,’ Julie said, ‘I’ll throw them in the wash before they stain.’
Holly left the table as Julie continued to clear up, muttering to herself about how Christmas dinner never goes without a hitch. ‘Tom, Liz, can you help clear the table, please.’
‘I’ll just nip to the toilet first,’ Tom said.
He raced up the stairs two at a time. Concerned that Holly hadn’t said a word to him since that morning, he wanted to clear the air. Passing the bathroom, he headed for her door.
Holly had stripped out of her wine-stained trousers and top. Sitting on the bed in her underwear, her mind was drawn back to Tom’s present. With a sigh, she reached under the bed for the box and slid open the lid. The dildo inside looked monstrous. Although not a ridiculous size, it was bigger than anything she’d experienced, and the fact that it was permanently hard made it an intimidating prospect.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she gave the shaft a tentative poke and instantly retracted her finger as though it was a hot stove. Feeling silly at her squeamishness, she built up the courage to run her fingers from balls to tip, and marvelled at how realistic it felt. Had it been a blind touch test, she doubted she’d be able to distinguish it from the real thing.
She had a sudden urge to feel it in her hand. Wrapping her hand around the underside of the shaft, she was in the process of lifting it out of the box when she jumped at a knock on the door.