Fiction | Festive Twisted Tale | Erotica
Nana’s Family-Famous Christmas Cake
Sweet and light, with memories of Christmas’ past
Bright red trim with Christmas trees and Santa all around it, red tin handle standing straight up. The round cake tin made her smile. A family heirloom, it made its seasonal appearance every November on the antique sideboard at Thanksgiving.
The kids reached out reverent hands to touch the cool metal, eyes wide with delight at the thick cake they knew lay within. Twin grins looked up at their mother when cries of cheating and clatter of dice reached their ears from the den. She nodded with an indulgent smile, brushing their hair as they raced to join their cousins’ raucous game of monopoly.
Elise’s husband, Rick, brushed past her as she stood staring at the tin her great-great-grandfather made her great-great-grandmother for their tenth wedding anniversary.
Hand-hammered, the divots from the rustic tinsmith tools shone with the ancient paint pooled in them.
“Oh, sorry, Rick. Let me move for you.” She hated the wheedling tone in her voice, but couldn’t help it. Her husband’s behaviour drew that response from her. Every time. He shot her a terse look over his shoulder, mouth in a stern line, eyes narrowed. His expression changing when Nana, Elise’s beloved grandmother, appeared in the kitchen doorway.
A forced smile curved his lips. Dark and stormy, his gaze never wavered.
“That’s all right, love.” Strained, his voice betrayed the tension he felt. Eyes moving to the football game, he hopped onto the couch beside her brother, asked the score and shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. His wife all but forgotten. As usual.
“You all right, dear?” Nana’s skeletal, veiny hand grasped her arm, both lending and taking strength from her. She frowned at Rick, then looked at her granddaughter. “Rick’s gone strange these last few years. Is everything okay at home, Elise love?”
Nana’s hand slid down Elise’s arm, squeezing just enough to warrant a grimace from her granddaughter.
Elise pulled from her grandmother’s grasp, pulling her sleeve down over her wrist and tucking the older woman’s hand into the crook of her arm. But not before Nana’s eyes widened at the fading bruises around her wrist.
“Come on, Nana. Let’s go see if Mom needs any help.” Elise ignored the raised eyebrow and soft stroke of the liver-spotted hand on her wrist. “You know how stressed she gets at these holiday dinners she insists on hosting.” Giggling, they entered the kitchen to greetings and hugs, questions left unanswered between them.
❄️🎄❄️☃️❄️🎄❄️☃️❄️
Slate grey eyes stared up at him, long hair pulled up in a tight ponytail, held tight in his fist. Muscular hips rocked into her jaw, balls swinging against her saliva-soaked chin. Her hum of delight rumbled through his length as her tongue twirled around his velvety shaft. She stroked him with one hand, her clit with the other, her gaze locked on his.
Her body shook with her building orgasm. His thighs tensed with his. Head thrown back, hands on her temples, he held her head as he face-fucked her. Hard, like he knew she liked. Her eyes rolled back. Her fingers dug into his ass. She gulped down burst after burst of his seed.
He pulled her up into his arms. Her legs wound around his waist, her pussy sliding down over his still-hard cock. Warm, moist with her juices, her inner walls clamped down on him.
Taste of cinnamon and peach overwhelmed him as his tongue dove between her lips. Sweet. Spicy. Tangy. He groaned, drinking her in as his hands gripped her hips and bounced her up and down on his length.
Her husband called her name.
His wife called him.
She screamed into his mouth as she came apart around him, his echoing growls of ecstasy lost in their kiss. Foreheads together, they grinned at their illicit cumming together as one.
❄️🎄❄️☃️❄️🎄❄️☃️❄️
Phone trilling incessantly from her back pocket, Elise activated the auto-closing tailgate and locked the mid-sized SUV on her way into the house. She smiled at their neighbour, a new father cradling his infant son.
“Shush now. I’m coming. Moving as fast as I can.” Four bright blue cloth bags joined their brothers on the kitchen island as she whipped her iPhone 12 out and stabbed the green button without checking the call display. “Hello?” Her shoulders slumped and her head fell back when she heard her mother’s voice.
“What? Now?” Wiping one hand down her face, she shook her head. “Now’s not a good time, Mom. I have to unpack the groceries and then pick the kids…” Elise cursed as she noticed the time. “Pick the kids up now, actually. Fuck. I gotta go, Mom… wait, what? You’re going to what? Where is Nana?”
Doorbell echoed through the house. Nana’s voice called out to her. Elise opened the door in surprise. Head shaking, she took some of the burden off of Nana’s overloaded arms.
“Your mother dropped me off like Chinese food and went to get the twins. Is the kettle boiled yet?” Nana nodded to the pink box in her hands. “I brought apple fritters from Nancy’s.” Once all of Nana’s packages were on the table, Elise pulled her close.
After a health scare this past summer, she cherished every moment in her grandmother’s company.
Elise unpacked the groceries while Nana made tea and set a plate of apple fritters on the table. They shared a conspiratorial, grabbed a napkin and dug into the apple fritters.
Ever observant Nana watched Elise pulling down her sleeves and adjusting her hair more than once. Too often. As if she was concealing something.
“Elise, love, you’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?” Nana gently squeezed her granddaughter’s hand. “Grandad and I were happy, yes, but we had our rough patches, too.” She took a deep breath before confessing, “Did I ever tell you we separated when your mother was young?”
Stunned, Elise sat back and stared at her grandmother.
“I guess not,” she chuckled. “Grandad lost his job at the lumberyard in sixty-two, when Jenny was six. It was a rough year. He started drinking heavily and even stepped out on me. With that battle-axe, Mildred Walker. Although, she was more like Jane Russell than Phyllis Diller back then.” Lost in thought, Nana nibbled her doughnut before continuing.
“I’d had enough of his cheating and drinking ways, but stayed. Until he hit me. He grabbed my arm, yanked me around like a rag doll, then slapped my face. Twice. All because the grocery store didn’t have the bread he liked.” Nana lifted her chin in acknowledgement.
“Like those bruises I see there, on your wrist. You sported a matching set at Thanksgiving two weeks ago, too. Those are newer.”
Nana straightened her shoulders, looked Elise in the eye, and said what no one else dared.
“Out with it, young lady. What the hell is going on? Rick never seemed the type, but neither did your Grandad.” Eyes flashing, it was obvious she wouldn’t let it lie. “Out with it now, before your mother gets back with the twins. I told her to take them for a treat. They’ll be a bit yet.” Elise bit back a grin at the raised eyebrow and impatient look on Nana’s face. She took a deep breath, covering her smirk with her hands, and regaled her grandmother with her rehearsed story.
Age-old tale, really, of love, pain and disillusionment.
“I was always Grandad’s girl. I never thought he’d do that to you.” Shame filled voice lowered to barely a whisper, she continued, “I don’t know what to say, Nana. It hurts to admit my marriage isn’t what I thought it would be.”
“Oh, sweet girl. I know all about that. I put up with all sorts from him before I confided in my sister and left.” Nana’s eyes filled with tears. “But we worked it out and so will you and Rick. I can feel it.”
“Now, tell me what’s going on. Maybe we can sort it out together.” Nana finished her apple fritter and a second cup of tea while Elise talked about her marriage.
Her whirlwind romance with Rick. The way he swept her off her feet at a Labour Day BBQ and married her nine weeks later on Veterans’ Day.
His whispered sweet words that pierced her heart, pinning her soul to his.
Gentle hands caressing her, molding her into her true self with every touch, stroke, and intimate moment they shared.
Common hopes. Shared dreams. A family built on two lives coming together as one.
Until they weren’t.
“Then, Nana, I… I just don’t know what happened.” Elise schooled her expression, averting her gaze from her grandmother’s and trying to keep all emotion from her face. “Something changed. Suddenly, we weren’t who we were anymore.” She met the bloodshot eyes of the older woman. “Our marriage wasn’t working. We weren’t a cohesive team any longer. And one of us turned into a shameless whore.”
Nana, never doubting who the whore had been, tutted and clicked her tongue in disgust. Restless, Elise unpacked the bags of Christmas goodies Nana brought with her.
“Nana,” Elise’s tears shone as she pleaded with her grandmother, “please don’t tell Mom. Don’t tell anyone. We’re trying to work through it. I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”
Nana rubbed her arm and took the piece of fabric she was twisting into knots from her fingers. Smoothing the wrinkles from the decades old, hand-quilted Christmas wall-hanging, Nana promised to keep her secret.
She reached into the last bag and removed the heirloom cake tin her grandfather made for her grandmother. Handing it to Elise, Nana told her only granddaughter, “Take this. Made with love, the cake has helped heal matters of the heart before.”
“Oh, Nana. Thank you.” A small smile lit Elise’s face as she turned from her grandmother, placing the cake tin on the maple sideboard in the family room. “I’ll share a piece with Rick when he gets home tomorrow. He’ll love it.”
Two nine-year-old tornadoes whirled into the house, followed closely by Elise’s mother.
As the house filled with the chatter of her children and beloved mother and grandmother, Elise knew in her heart everything would work out as she needed it to.
❄️🎄❄️☃️❄️🎄❄️☃️❄️
Blue plaid blanket laid over the workbench protected her back from the ancient wood. Terra cotta flower pots clanked and teetered on the end of the bench. Small trowel clattered to the floor. Their breath hung in the frosty air around them. Her nipples puckered, pebbled from his touch and the icy air. He flicked one and pulled the other between his teeth, biting her. She arched her back, her hips rocking him deep into her core.
Her pussy clenched, pulling him in close as their climax grew. Biting back groans and growls, their bodies shuddered as they lost themselves in their shared pleasure. Thud of a snowball against the shed wall startled them. They choked back nervous giggles as children’s voices called out as they built snow forts.
“Looks like we’ll have to hide out here longer, stud.” She reached down to wrap her fingers around his shaft as he slowly pumped his half-hard dick into her. “I want your cum pouring out of me. Fuck me again.” She pulled him to her, sucking on his lower lip.
Not long after that, her husband’s Lincoln navigator roared to life and his wife called the kids in for lunch. Playdate over, they headed back to their lives in their neighbouring homes.
❄️🎄❄️☃️❄️🎄❄️☃️❄️
“What are you looking for? This?” She held up an envelope, chuckling when his eyes widened in terror when she caught him rifling frantically through the mail. “I knew you waited for something. Now, let’s open it, shall we?”
He slumped down in the seat, desolation worming its way across his face. There was no way he could explain away the envelope’s contents. He watched as she crossed to the oak sideboard, tossing the padded envelope onto the doily on top of it.
“What’s in the envelope, husband.” Elise sneered at him and pulled the lid off of the worn cake tin. She placed her Nana’s family-famous Christmas cake on the plate in front of her and picked up the knife beside it, twisting and turning it in her hand.
Worried, Rick was unsure of what to expect from his not-so-loving wife of twelve years. An almost demonic grin stole across her face, scaring him more than the fate he feared.
Not daring to move, his breath caught in his throat. She served up a beautiful slice of dark amber cake filled with nuts and cherries, topped with a thick layer of homemade marzipan, sitting it atop an heirloom china plate.
“Here you go, lover.” Nothing close to love shone in her eyes, their slate-blue depths as cold and lifeless as the Arctic Ocean. “Nana sent you over some Christmas cake. Said you deserved it after working so hard for us all year.”
“Oh, how sweet of her.” His tongue stuck to the roof of his dry mouth. “She remembered how much I love her Christmas cake.” Rick took a small bite, sweet amaretto flavour tingling his tongue.
An icy breeze announced someone entering the house. Their neighbour, Aaron, rubbed his hands together and smiled at Elise. “All set, love?”
“Yes, darling. The kids are with my parents, the Navigator is packed, and a large piece of walnut is about to lodge itself in his throat.” Elise grabbed a nut and shoved it down his throat while her lover held him still. Her sudden, high-pitched cackled was reminiscent of the Wicked Witch of the West. “They’ll never look past that to the cyanide I dropped onto the marzipan.”
“Tootle-oo, Ricky-poo. It’s been a slice.” Elise laughed and reached for her lover’s hand. “Come on, Aaron. Our flight is waiting.” She tucked the envelope under her arm, missing the lone photo that slipped to the floor.
Rick’s eyes settled on the damning photo of his wife and their neighbour, naked and fucking, on the balcony of a downtown hotel. A lone tear trailed down his cheek. His throat closed over the lodged nut. Breath trapped in his throat. He mourned the loss of the life they once promised one another.
His life-force faded from his eyes, brightly coloured lights of the Christmas tree reflecting on his slack face as Holly Jolly Christmas played on the radio in the background.
❄️🎄❄️☃️❄️🎄❄️☃️❄️
More from Heather…
Another festive tale by Patricia Ray