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|12-21-2008, 04:24 PM||#1|
Join Date: Oct 2005
Tracey’s Xmas Story - by Samster (~BBW, (Multiple), Imagery, Socializing, ~SWG)
~BBW, (Multiple), Imagery, Socializing, ~SWG – Tracey and her extended family celebrate the season
Tracey’s Xmas Story
Mid December and a thick, freezing fog was covering South Yorkshire county. Lost and no longer visible in the haze was county’s usual natural beauty; the disused mine shafts, the Park Hill flats of Sheffield or the water towers that ringed Doncaster were lost in the haze. But that didn’t stop the county’s hardy inhabitants from going about their normal, Saturday afternoon business.
Atop the roof of 39 Copley Crescent , deep in the “new build” sprawl of Woodfield Plantation, two men were grappling with a giant Santa, accompanied by his reindeer and sleigh. The giant Christmas decoration covered the length of the five bedroom property and, when installed, would glow in an array of seasonal colours.
“Whose idea was it to fit this bloody stupid thing?” grunted Keith, the older of the two men.
“Tracey’s of course,” responded Steve Harrison. “Now stop being a miserable old git and help get it finished.”
Keith responded to the reply with a few mumbled expletives but got back to work. His fingers were numb and his teeth chattering. But at that point in his life he owed his younger brother and sister in law a favour or two. So he’d agreed to erect a giant Santa on the roof of their house on a freezing December morning. He considered the glitzy tat the ultimate in bad taste but he kept that opinion quiet.
Ten more minutes and a satisfied Steve proclaimed “there, I think we’re about done.”
“Can we get off this chuffin’ roof then?”
“Let’s just make sure it works first.”
Stepping carefully across the roof he headed to the power supply. Part of him was amazed that he was happily spending his Saturday on the roof installing a giant, neon Santa. Unlike his brother he was happily married and his wife and kids had forcefully wanted the giant decoration, so he’d gotten to work. Making them happy seemed to take up most of his spare time, but in his heart he enjoyed it.
Pressing the power switch the Santa burst into life. Red, white, yellow and blue lights blasted out brightly sending rays of neon across the fog. Satisfied, Steve shouted “It works!!!”
“You better hope a plane doesn’t land on it.”
For a few minutes the two men stood in awe. Up close it was an amazing structure. Tacky or not it was certainly bright and noticeable. Just what Mrs Steve Harrison would like.
Mrs Harrison, at that moment, was doing exactly what half the town of Doncaster seemed to be doing; shopping at the Lakeside outlets. With the credit crunch in full force Tracey was amazed by the bargains on offer. Even before Christmas stores were offering 25% discount on all her favourite brands. It was just a shame she didn’t have any confidence to flex the various credit cards that made up her purse.
“Wow!!! All this is soooo cheap.”
“It’s the credit crunch” returned her friend Nicola.
Biting her lip Tracey moved on and resisted the urge to splurge. It was the first time the thirty six year old had encountered the word recession. Three months back she’d also encountered the word redundancy. She’d so far scraped by with her job but as HR Manager she’d agonizingly administered the redundancy of 20% of SFT Ltd’s five hundred strong workforce.
“You doing anything interesting for Christmas?” queried Tracey as they browsed the aisles.
“Nope, just family stuff this year. Are you going to Becky’s party?”
Looking through the store Tracey finally decided to treat herself on a discounted D&G top and headed for the till, conscious of the ten grand she and Steve had loaned to Steve’s hard luck brother Keith. Nicola knew why Tracey was holding back.
“Thinking about what you loaned out?”
“I wish we had ten grand to loan.”
“We’ll never get it back”
Nicola frowned. .“So then why loan it?”
“He’s quite sweet, and he’s agreed to put up that giant Santa we saw at The Range”
“You’ve got more money than sense,” sighed Nicola.
“It’s the best way,” replied Tracey.
Thirty minutes later, sitting in the black leather seats of her Range Rover Sport with the boot full of shopping, Tracey joined the throng trying to leave the Lakeside shopping centre. Gridlocked traffic was at a standstill. Looking around Tracey decided to pass her time by working out who had the most expensive car around her. Satisfied she noted she won that contest. That was until a guy in a Porsche pulled in front.
“Show off,” she thought, masking her own vanity in vehicular choice.
Eventually the traffic began moving and she headed across town and pulled up outside the house of her husband’s ex-wife. Although not her favourite task, she was about to collect the two children from Steve’s first marriage for the weekend. Pressing the doorbell she stood and waited.
“Hi Sarah!” chirped Tracey, flashing her patented crystal white smile.
“You’re early,” snapped Sarah.
“Ummm…only a bit.”
For a brief moment the two women glared at each other. They hated each other.
“I’ll go fetch them for you.”
Tracey was about to step forward into the warmth of the house when the door slammed in her face. Sighing she glanced down at her Cartier wristwatch; she noted that she was indeed ten minutes early; Sarah was always a tad tardy. . Debating whether or not to retreat to the comfort of her car Tracey put her hands in her coat pockets and decided to wait it out. Freezing as it was she always tried her best with Steve’s kids.
A full ten minutes later the door opened. Two small children headed out followed by their mother.
“I want them back here at four o’clock sharp on Sunday.”
Brushing a strand of blonde hair over her shoulder Tracey snapped.
“It’s rude to make me wait outside in the cold.”
“If you’d got here on time you wouldn’t have had to wait.”
Glancing over her shoulder Tracey checked to be sure the two kids were out of earshot. Satisfied they were she replied “I only wanted the best for the children so I got here early to show them some love.”
Sarah resisted the urge to punch her ex-husband’s blonde dolly bird wife on the nose. Quite how her ex-husband had fallen for this over-the-top blonde, air headed bimbo Sarah could never understand. She had never seen and taken responsibility for her part in what had happened with her and her ex.
“If you really wanted the best for my children you wouldn’t have opened your legs to my husband.”
“You mean your ex-husband.”
“Screw you Tracey!”
For the second time the door slammed in her face. Twirling back on her heels Tracey headed over for the Range Rover. Knowing that she was regarded as having stolen Steve despite the fact that he and Sarah were already living apart Tracey had to accept she was never likely to be on Sarah’s friends and family list. In reality she had never seduced Steve. She was crashing from her own failed relationship and Steve had helped her up despite his own crumbled marriage. The sex and romance had come later. But Sarah had never accepted this.
After picking Steve’s two children up Tracey collected her own two from her parents and headed on home. Her arrival back on Copley Crescent coincided with Steve and Keith clambering down the ladder. Jumping down from the 4x4 the kids chattered excitedly at the huge neon Santa. Tracey followed on.
“What do you reckon?” beamed a proud Steve.
Smiling wickedly Tracey turned up her nose. “It’s nice, but you know the one on number twenty’s bigger?”
Behind him Keith protested. “I freezed my bloody fingers off on that…”
“I just think it could be bigger,” pouted Tracey.
Exchanging glances the two men fought for a good response. Both were proud of the Santa decoration.
“Trace, we froze our asses off up there so you could be just a bit grateful…”
Silence followed as husband and wife looked up at the roof. Steve wondered just what he’d done wrong and Tracey frowned and looked anything but pleased. Eventually Steve broke under the pressure.
“What do you want me to do? Take it back and get a bigger one?”
“I’m not putting another up!” shouted Keith.
Tracey’s frown turned into a smile. “Hah!! Suckers!! He looks awesome!!”
Planting a kiss on her brother in law’s freezing cold cheek, Tracey laughed. “Aw you’re freezing.”
“That’s cos I’ve been on the bloody roof.”
“Come in and get warm.”
So the Harrison family trooped inside. Up on the roof Santa stood guard. 10,000 feet above, approaching Doncaster-Sheffield Airport the captain of a descending 737 chuckled.
“Can you see that horrible thing?”
“It’s brighter than the airport lights,” returned the co-pilot.
“You’ve gotta wonder with some people.”
|12-21-2008, 04:25 PM||#2|
Join Date: Oct 2005
Christmas day 3am and all was quiet. Lying in bed Tracey Harrison was sound asleep, her head buried in the pillow and her hands on her tummy. It was still stuffed full after a Christmas season full of parties. Before Christmas Tracey had tried to slim down with some success, but the array of rich dishes she’d been treated to over the season had piled her weight back on. Then she felt a tug on her should. Moaning slightly she rolled over. The tugging continued.
Grudgingly Tracey opened her eyes.
“Mum…can we get up yet?”
Blinking Tracey focused on her ten year old son Kyle. Then she looked at the bedside clock.
“Kyle, go back to bed,” she mumbled.
“Just do as you’re told before you wake Steve up”
Kyle did as he was told. Waking Steve up at 3am probably wasn’t a good idea. Now fully awake Tracey watched her son leave the master bedroom. Content in the warmth of her bed she rolled over, snuggled up to her husband and drifted off to sleep.
3.50am and Tracey was fast asleep. Steve was snoring next to her and both were recovering from their office Christmas party. Both worked for the local mini-conglomerate SFR Ltd and Christmas Eve had been spent at the Mount Pleasant Hotel with a never ending supply of food and drink. If Tracey had been fattened up over Christmas, then Steve had been equally affected.
This time the master bedroom’s latest arrival woke him up.
“Mum!” said Tracey’s youngest son, Declan, in a loud whisper “can we open our presents yet?”
Steve grunted and looked across at the eight year old. “Go back to bed.”
“Just do it before you wake your mum up.”
Doing as instructed the boy left the room. Groaning Steve hunkered back down, checked his wife was still asleep and closed his eyes. Within less than a minute he was back to sleep.
4.30am and two sets of little feet entered the master bedroom. Neither had slept a wink that night and now a coordinated effort was launched to instigate an early present opening. It took courage, daring and a willingness to face the consequences. But both knew presents, most probably a Playstation 3 and mountain bikes, were sat under the Christmas tree just begging to be opened.
“Mum and Steve,” said Kyle loudly “we can’t sleep and want to get up now”
That statement was accompanied by a few mumbles from the bed but no action.
“Mum and Steve,” shouted Declan.
This time there was a response. Together the two adults were pulled from their land of slumber. Rubbing her eyes Tracey sighed, .“Go back to bed”
“But we can’t sleep.”
“Can we open our presents yet?”
“If you don’t go back to bed you won’t get any presents,” grumbled a half awake Steve.
With a sigh Tracey hauled herself out of bed. She was tired and hung over. With a Christmas day full of kids and a family party she needed her sleep. Grabbing her two sons by their pyjamas she headed for the door.
“Back to bed or I’ll give your presents away”
Five minutes later the blonde yummy mummy settled herself back in bed. Steve was back snoring again. Some nights his snoring could keep her up - but not that night. Soon Tracey was back to sleep.
7am and the bedside alarm rang. It rang for a full five minutes before Steve and Tracey Harrison accepted the inevitable and rose from bed. Eventually Tracey grabbed her bath robe put her slippers on and headed for the door. Finally her sons would get to open their presents.
Stepping into Declan’s bedroom she stopped and smiled. He was asleep. Moving into Kyle’s she saw he too was in the land of nod. Clearly a sleepless night had caught up on them both right at the moment when victory was at hand. Deciding not to wake them she headed downstairs for the living room.
Glancing at her reflection in the hallway mirror Tracey frowned. The effects of her pre-Christmas diet were long gone and her hourglass figure was carrying a coating of fat. There was a slight wobble to her plump posterior and her belly was full of Christmas goodies. Tracey felt full, bloated and trussed up like a turkey.
In the living room her husband waited “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas Steve.”
The two hugged and kissed before he moved onto the presents. Greedily Tracey tore open the box her husband passed across; gasping at the golden necklace, Gucci and shaped in a heart it suited her bling style perfectly.
“I thought you’d like it.”
Posing for herself in the mirror Tracey did indeed love the necklace. It glittered and shined in the morning light. Anybody who looked at the glitzy golden heart would know her husband loved her and he was rich.
For his part Steve was equally pleased with the ceramic Rado watch his wife had bought. He collected watched like Tracey collected jewellery.
“Good choice of watch.”
“Well I know you like those Rado thingys.”
“Sure do…now lets get some breakfast.”
So the two, wearing their Gucci necklace and Rado watch respectively, were sat eating breakfast when Kyle and Declan appeared.
“How come you didn’t wake me up?” moaned Kyle.
“You looked so cute sleeping.”
“Besides” mumbled Steve, his mouth full of corn flakes “you missed Christmas. Santa’s gone and taken your presents”
“Santa doesn’t exist,” countered Kyle.
“Yes he does!” protested the younger Declan.
Rolling her eyes Tracey headed for the living room. She knew she spoiled her two sons and Christmas would be no exception. Not only did they have a Playstation 3 but a whole array of games, a bike each and more clothes than any child could ever need.
“Your presents are on that side of the tree Kyle,” explained Tracey. “And yours over there Declan”
|12-21-2008, 04:26 PM||#3|
Join Date: Oct 2005
Christmas morning at 39 Copley Crescent was loud, brash and hectic. With the sound on the 52 inch TV turned up to the max explosions and gun shots from the Playstation echoed around the house. Mountain bikes were scattered around the garden and wrapping paper strewn across the living room. Not exactly Christmas in the biblical sense but the Harrison’s liked it.
Upstairs in the master bedroom the full extent of her Christmas over-indulgence hit Tracey as she squeezed into her suit. Fitted back in November the shinny silver skirt suit was struggling to contain all her excess curvature. A skin tight pencil skirt gripped around her plump thighs, clamping in at her knees and forcing her to pooch out her portly behind just to keep balance. That in turn forced the skirt to cup her bubble butt and squeeze her hips. Her jacket was equally tight. The buttons were taut and they struggled around her breasts and pinched in at her tummy.
Gazing at her reflection in the full length mirror Tracey didn’t dare ask “does my bum look big in this?”
The obvious answer was a definite yes. Twirling on her heels she headed for the door. It was time to round her brood up and head out for a day visiting relatives.
“Come on!” shouted blondie, “its time to go”
It took almost half an hour to round the male contingent of the household up. Then another half hour to make sure they all looked presentable for the family. Carefully sculpting her son’s spiky hair Tracey was determined her family looked picture perfect for the Christmas photos.
“Mum, I just want to play on the Playstation.”
“You can do that when we get back.”
“Zip it Kyle.”
The final strand of hair spiked to perfection Tracey pushed her sons towards the door and out into the cold. Whether they liked it or not there was a full day of Christmas visiting ahead.
First stop was Steve’s ex. Not a stop Tracey enjoyed but she did understand he wanted to see his kids at Christmas so she followed along. Forcing a smile she stood beside her husband and greeted Sarah “Merry Christmas Sarah.”
Ignoring the greeting Sarah turned to her ex. “How come you brought her?”
“Cut it out. I told you we were all calling round.”
Grudgingly Sarah motioned for them all to come in. Keeping tight hold of Steve’s hand Tracey followed on in. Feeling nervous she forced a smile at Sarah’s live in boyfriend and hoped to survive the encounter. Fortunately he seemed less hostile.
“Help yourself to mince pies and I’ll get you a coffee.”
Tracey never really needed encouragement where mince pies were concerned. Soon she was sitting on the sofa watching the kids and wolfing down mince pies. Sarah’s partner, Paul, made an exceptional cappuccino which washed the sweet treats down nicely and he seemed to be friendly.
“So where are you going next?” queried Paul.
“My mum and dad’s for Christmas dinner,” mumbled Tracey, her mouth full of mince pie. “What are you guys doing?”
“Just a quiet meal together”
“Sounds nice…we spend Christmas running around like crazy.”
The two sat chatting whilst Steve spent time with the kids. Sarah made herself busy and avoided any contact. Busily preparing Christmas dinner she had no interest in conversation with her ex-husband’s chubby blonde.
Watching her two kids playing with Steve’s two Tracey smiled “They get on really well.”
Leaning closer Tracey whispered “Seems a shame separating them at Christmas…we get back from my mum and dads at six it you want to call round”
Paul nodded. .“I’ll have a word with Sarah”
“Cool…umm…can I have another mince pie.”
“So what job do you do Paul?”
“Sales manager at Dixon Renault”
Happily Tracey sat chatting with Paul, snacking on mince pies and drinking cappuccinos. He was good looking and seemed like a nice guy. Quite a catch for Sarah. Somehow it made Tracey feel happy that Sarah had a decent man in her life, even if he was only sales manager at an auto dealership. She would have been surprised to know that his bonuses exceeded her own generous salary.
2pm and Tracey was sat at her parents dinner table happily working through a place of turkey with all the trimmings. Thick, home made gravy swamped her plate. All around her everybody else was similarly engaged. Even her two sons had stopped complaining that they wanted to go home to the Playstation 3.
“We’re also quiet now,” proclaimed her father.
Nobody answered him; they were too busy eating. Slowly but surely the tubby glamour queen worked through her plate full. Now truly porked from a morning snacking on mince pies Tracey was starting to run out of steam.
“Are you sure you can’t clean your plate?” queried her mother, Joyce.
“No mum I’m really full.”
“You’ve got room for some Christmas pudding?”
“Yeah mum I have, but we’ve got our party tonight so I’m saving some for the buffet.”
Her mother nodded. She liked to see her daughter eat but conceded it was a massive plate full. Besides, with her plumped up figure, even Joyce accepted that her daughter wasn’t malnourished.
“Who’s invited?” queried Joyce.
“Friends and neighbours.”
“Where did you get the buffet from?”
“If you’d asked me I’d have prepared one.”
“You were busy with Christmas dinner” countered Tracey, deciding not to tell her mum she preferred the Sainsbury’s buffet.
So the afternoon worked along. A generous helping of Christmas pudding and custard followed. Stuffed full the family retreated to the living room and sat watching an afternoon of Christmas TV. Tired, and too full to move, Tracey closed her eyes and enjoyed an afternoon nap.
Meanwhile, back at 39 Copley Crescent , Keith Harrison was sat alone playing on the newly bought Playstation 3. He’d deliberately kept a low profile Christmas morning. It embarrassed him considerably that he was forced to stay with his brother and sister in law. But Keith really didn’t have a choice. Deep in credit card debt up to his eyeballs, running a small car valeting business he’d eventually been kicked out of his rented home. So he’d ended up in his brother’s spare room.
Trying to focus on the screen he sighed. A sniper had just shot his character yet again.
Re-loading his character Keith looked round the living room. It was decorated in full Christmas style with a giant tree, glittering lights and decorations - very much the style of his sister in law. He puzzled over Tracey. At first she’d been hostile to him staying over; frosty looks and hardly ever talking to him. Like he wasn’t really good enough to be around her.
But recently she’d thawed out and Keith had to assume she knew about the £10,000 cheque his brother had written him.
“I wonder if she does know?” mused Keith to himself.
Then the screen re-loaded and he was back in the African jungle in the middle of a war zone. Big hands grappling with controller he moved forward, looking left and right for the sniper that had just shot him. Then the screen went red.
“Fillipin’ ‘eck he shot me again….bloody snipers!”
Waiting for another re-load Keith thought about the cheque. The ten grand covered his credit cards and left enough for a deposit on a home. He supposed Tracey could have backed it just to get him out of the house? But that didn’t seem fair – ten grand was a lot of money even for his brother and sister in law.
Then the screen re-loaded.
“This time I’ll survive” said Keith to himself as he set back into the jungle. This time the sniper missed. Instead he got shot by the machine gun crew hiding by the lake.
|12-21-2008, 04:28 PM||#4|
Join Date: Oct 2005
Preparations for the party were swift; trays of finger food bought from Sainsbury’s were moved from the vast Miele fridge to the living room. An equally vast haul of alcoholic beverages were moved in from the garage. Christmas tunes were played on the Bose surround sound and mixed in with the explosions and gunshot sounds from the Playstation.
Tracey had changed into a more comfortable pair of jeans and the D&G turtle neck top she’d bought in the Christmas sale. It was an informal get together so she figured a casual look would work better. That was casual mixed in with a vast array of jewellery; a gold bracelet, the Gucci necklace, Cartier watch and her huge wedding wing. It was casual Tracey style.
Heading back into the living room she walked over to Keith. He was sat playing on the Playstation with her two sons.
“Hey Keith! What did you get up to while we were away?”
A joker at heart, and remembering her trick with the giant Santa, Keith said.
“Gambling on the Internet”
He watched the blonde’s jaw drop. Any doubt she knew about the ten grand went away then and there. Tracey knew all about it and clearly didn’t think Internet gambling was putting it to good use.
“I want a word with you,” snapped Tracey, “in private”
“Only joking, I just play…”
Dutifully Keith followed on. Clearly his attempt at humour hadn’t been appreciated. In the kitchen Tracey spun round and pointed a long pink finger nail at her brother in law.
“Listen buster; you might think that money’s a joke but I don’t. Its for paying your credit cards and deposit – not gambling!”
“The gambling bit was a joke.”
“It wasn’t funny.”
Stood with her hands on her hips the 5ft4 Tracey stood glaring at her much taller brother in law. He shrunk just slightly under those brown eyes. Behind all the sugary sweet smiles and make-up Tracey Harrison was a force to be reckoned with..
“Sorry, and thanks for the money.”
“We worked hard for that money,” continued blondie. “So don’t waste it”
Reaching for the table Tracey took a slice of caramel shortbread. She liked Keith really; he was just a dumb ass who needed pulling into line. Tracey planned on making 100% sure that money was spent where it was supposed to. Passing the caramel shortbread across, she smiled.
“Try one of these, they’re amazing”
Accepting the token of truce Keith took the offering. “Thanks”
As soon as Keith took his Tracey grabbed one for herself. Resting her hefty haunches on the table she took a bite. Sugary, sweet and gooey she loved caramel.
“Ummmm….I could keep eating these ‘till they came out of my ears.”
Keith just nodded. His eyes were resting on the peek of bare belly between the caramel shortbread loving blonde’s sweater and jeans. A solid mound of jello, her belly hung ever so slightly above her belt; the glittering designer buckle digging in just a little.
Noticing where his eyes rested Tracey tugged the sweater down.
“Stop looking at my tummy.”
Taking a final bite of caramel shortbread Tracey sighed and patted her middle.
“Although there’s a lot of me to look at these days/”
Not thinking, Keith blurted out. “Steve won’t be complaining about that – he always went for big birds.”
A perfectly pencilled eyebrow raised Tracey snapped. “Oh so is that how you and Steve talk about me when your out drinking?”
Keith fought for a response. He thought Tracey actually quite suited her weight; she had that kind of hourglass look that carried the extra lbs without losing her shape. What’s more Steve never, even when very drunk, said a bad thing about his wife. But he was now in a deep hole and struggling for a way out. Fortunately for Keith, the doorbell rang at that moment and the first guest arrived.
- - - - -
Driving along Copley Crescent Paul and Sarah focused on the huge Santa on the room of 39. All around the houses, like most in South Yorkshire , were festooned with Christmas lights but thirty nine was spectacular. Huge, bright and spanning the entire roof it illuminated half the street. Further illumination, as if it was needed, was complimented by and array of lights running around the front garden.
“Now that’s tacky,” laughed Sarah.
“I’m with you there.”
Stopping in the driveway they unloaded and headed for the front door. Up close it was even brighter and Sarah found herself wishing she’d brought sunglasses. Then her stomach started to churn; it was the first time she’d been to her ex-husbands house.
Before they’d had time to press the doorbell the front door opened.
“Hiya Sarah! Hiya Paul!” gushed Tracey.
“Do you like our Santa?”
“It’s very nice,” nodded Paul.
“Noticeable,” added Sarah as she stepped into the house.
“I think he’s awesome!”
Walking into the living room, with Rocking Around the Christmas Tree blasting out, Sarah felt more comfortable. Many of the women she knew from the school run so she easily slipped into conversation. All were somewhat surprised to see Sarah at the Harrison household but nobody mentioned it. For her part Tracey kept her distance. Whilst she was happy enough to have Steve’s kids round she wanted no fireworks with Sarah. Besides, she had her husband’s idiot brother to contend with.
“Hey Tracey” drawled a by now somewhat tipsy Keith, “I didn’t offend you back there, did I?”
Sipping on her mulled wine Tracey considered her response. “A little.”
“Well I wanted to say sorry again. Steve bores us all to tears at the pub saying how wonderful you are and he reckons the sun shines out of your arse.”
Tracey rolled her eyes. “Thank you Keith/”
“You still look mad at me. What can I do to prove I’m sorry?”
Gulping down the rest of her wine Tracey thought. She had a silly sense of humour and Keith was just about drunk and stupid enough to do whatever she asked. So with her best, butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth smile she said.
“Can you throw your shoes over the house?”
“Steve can throw his shoes from the back yard so they land in the driveway…can you?”
“I reckon I can.”
“Then prove it.”
Across the room Steve watched as his wife and brother headed outside. Quite what they could be doing he had no idea; but he left them to it. Even more surprised he watched them stand in the middle of the back garden his brother take his shoes off. Frosty and cold outside that was surprising. He could see Tracey pointing towards the roof. Then he saw Keith attempt the first throw.
Shaking his head he turned away.
“You hit Santa,” laughed Tracey.
“I bet Steve didn’t have to throw over that Santa thing.”
Keith shrugged. Taking a step back he attempted a second throw. His shoe flew up in an arch, hit Santa and landed on the roof. Defeated he looked down at the laughing blonde.
“Are you cold?”
“Of course I bloody am…I’m standing in my socks in the frost.”
“Yeah really cold.”
With a wink Tracey pushed past and headed for the house. Clearly her husband had both the looks and the brains of the two brothers.
“Then I forgive you for what you said.”
Keith frowned, shook his head and followed on. He’d never understood women and he certainly didn’t understand this one. How Steve contended with her on a day to day basis he didn’t understand. What’s more his feet were freezing.
|12-21-2008, 04:29 PM||#5|
Join Date: Oct 2005
Both Tracey and Sarah had healthy appetites so it was inevitable they would encounter each other around the buffet table. As it was their encounter involved a grab for the last remaining caramel shortbread. Tracey had picked it up and was about to devour yet another caramel treat when Sarah arrived on the scene.
“I see you’ve got the last one.”
Guiltily Tracey looked at the shortbread, caramel and chocolate slice. No way was she giving it up. Christmas day was her one guilt free day of eating.
“Yeah, but there’s some Christmas cake if you want it.”
“You could break that in two”
“I don’t want to,” pouted blondie.
“I’m not selfish!”
“You are soooooo selfish it’s unreal.”
Both women were somewhat drunk; a never ending supply of mulled wine and spirits had gone to their heads. A lot of pent up frustration was about to be released over a caramel shortbread.
“You stole the last caramel shortbread,” snapped Sarah.
Blinking Tracey tried to focus. She was stuffed full and drunk so thinking wasn’t coming easy. Best thing she could think to do was break the shortbread in two.
“’ere, have your half”
Grabbing the shortbread Sarah took a bite. Tracey did the same. Gulping down the caramel they each moved onto a slice of Christmas cake. Filling her already jam full stomach with Christmas cake Sarah connected a few dots in her head.
“Thanks for looking after Jack and Isabelle like you do.”
“I love them loads.”
Sarah nodded. Maybe it was the alcohol doing the reasoning but she accepted that. Over the years she’d accepted blondie was a decent mother.
“Maybe I can look after your two sometimes?”
Glancing over the room Tracey watched her two sons. At that point they were kicking a football dangerously close to the Christmas tree. It was only a matter of time before they hit it.
“Mine can be a handful.”
“I’m sure I’ll manage.”
So both women stood chattering. Serious tension still ran between them but both accepted there was a need to get along. Complicated and contentious family ties were going to keep them together whatever they did. Getting along was going to make things easier. Besides, they were standing next to the buffet so neither plumper had any desire to move on.
Over by the fire Keith was still stood trying to thaw out his feet. Sub zero temperatures from the frosty lawn had thoroughly numbed his feet and toes. Next to him Steve was stood with his latest can of Fosters wondering just what his brother had been up to.
“So just why did you try to throw your shoes over the roof?”
“Trace said you can.”
“Why would it matter if I can?”
Keith puzzled on that. He hadn’t stopped to think why it could matter.
“I dunno. I think she was just taking the micky.”
“Can’t believe she’d do that” lied Steve. It was actually just the sort of thing he could imagine her getting up to. Keith was just a fool for following along.
“I reckon I deserved it though.”
“I told her you always did like big birds”
Chuckling Steve looked across the room. Tracey was still standing next to the buffet looking plump and sexy in her jeans and sweater; her belly full from an over-indulgent Christmas day and popping out for all to see.
“Yeah, that would get her mad.”
“So it all made sense you see.”
“As much as it ever does”
As the party moved to its close Tracey had just said good-bye to her best friend Nicola and her family and was heading back into the main room. Her path crossed with her husband’s ex-wife’s partner Paul. Smiling Paul did his best to remain friendly. After all his life was going to be much easier if his partner Sarah could actually get along with the Harrisons.
Somewhat drunk Tracey said the first thing that popped into her head. “Wow!! You don’t seem to hate me?”
“Why should I?”
Tracey shrugged. “Sarah does”
“I’m kinda grateful” winked Paul.
Tracey puzzled over that one for a while then smiled. Without her Steve would probably still have been with Sarah and he wouldn’t be with Sarah.
“Ummm…so you owe me”
“I wouldn’t go that far”
“Sarah’s quite a catch” mused Tracey “so would you do me a favour?”
He was wary. Whilst relations between his partner and the beautiful blonde were thawing there was still tension. Even being stood talking with her alone was a risky business.
“You said you managed a car dealership?”
“Yes. Dixon Renault on Wheatley Hall Road” frowned Paul “you’re not wanting to trade the Range Rover in for a Renault?”
“Oh gosh no!” gasped Tracey in horror “I wouldn’t be seen dead in a Renault. Noooo its about my brother in law Keith.”
Trying not to be offended by the snobby remark Paul bite his tongue. If Tracey was stupid enough to blow £30,000 on a car for its badge that was fine with him. Judging by the furniture and fittings in her home it was an approach she took to all things.
“What about him?”
Leaning in closer and taking hold of his arm Tracey whispered.
“He runs a car valeting business and I think you could use him”
Paul was sweating now. The plump MILF was up close and holding on to him. He knew she was talking about car valeting but if Sarah saw she wouldn’t believe that. All added up it was best to get her away fast.
“We already have valets”
Not to be deterred, and fully aware of the potential hot water she was putting Paul in, Tracey continued. “What do you think Sarah would think if she saw us like this?”
Paul gulped. She was blackmailing in him.
“For heavens sake!” he exclaimed.
“Well, I reckon she’d shout and scream at you and…”
“Okay, okay! Get him to call round after Christmas and we’ll talk”
Pulling away Tracey smiled, winked and headed back into the party. Stood alone Paul watched her disappear and shook his head. Now that was a lady who knew how to get what she wanted.
Late that evening with the party over Steve Harrison stood outside in the cold at the foot of a ladder. Up on the roof Keith was searching for his shoes lodged somewhere within the giant Santa. For a man with no money it was worth the effort.
“Have you found it yet?”
“I’ve found one.”
Steve groaned. It was cold outside, a light falling of snow was settling and he was tired. He wanted to head back inside to the warmth.
“Its bloody cold!” shouted Keith.
“Stop moaning…you threw your shoes up all by yourself/”
A few mumbled expletives could be heard from the roof but Steve ignored them. Instead he looked through the patio doors and into the living room. It was a sweet sight. The Playstation was switched off and he wife was dozing on the sofa. Either side her two sons were snuggled up sound asleep.
Steve smiled. That was Christmas for him. Money and things were nice but when it came down to it the day was about family. His thoughts were broken by a shout from above.
“I found the other one!” finally came the news.
|12-23-2008, 11:42 AM||#6|
Join Date: Sep 2005
Location: Ontario, Canada
Somehow that managed to be heart warming, in its own distinctive way *L*
“I think, at a child's birth, if a mother could ask a fairy godmother to endow it with the most useful gift, that gift would be curiosity."