Stuffing or Muffing?

"Would you like a muffing?" he asked me.

"He's slurring his words," I commented knowingly to Jasmine and my father. "The medication."

"I'm not slurring my words!" he insisted. "I asked you if you wanted a muffing. Cunnilingus! That's what I'm talking about."

"I think he wants to eat you," Jasmine said, amused, "not one of those stale muffins."

"Yes," my father agreed, "that's it all right." I think the lewd gestures Scott made with his tongue may have given it away, but I wasn't sure.

"Oh yeah? Well, we'll see about that. Is that what you want, Scotty? You want to eat your big sister?"

Again he nodded like a woodpecker, like he did back at the house.

I shed my clothing and lay at the foot of Scott's bed, facing him. "Okay, Scotty, let's see how you cut the carpet. C'mere, bro, and tickle the bearded clam."

But now he seemed reluctant. "Uh . . . I . . . how . . . I . . . never . . ."

"Oh, now you're changing your mind?" I snapped. "Now that I'm in the mood?"

"Scotty," Jasmine said softly, "eating your sister's pussy is probably the most wonderful thing you can do for her. What were you going to get her for Christmas? Some cheap earrings or something? If you do this right, Scotty, this is what she'll want. And it won't cost you anything."

"Jasmine, I . . . uh . . . would you tell me how to do it? I want to do it right. I want to please her."

"No worries, Scotty. First, kiss and lick the inside of her thighs. Make her pussy beg for it." Scott put his face between my legs and began to do as instructed. Quite well, actually. I began to moan a bit. "Now we'll find your sister's clitoris," Jasmine advised. "Lick the creases where those long, lovely legs join her pussy. That's it, dude, you're doing good. Nuzzle your face into that cute little red bush. Brush your lips against her slit, but don't use any pressure yet." Scott did. I began to buck up and strained to get my brother's face and tongue closer to me.

"It's getting wet," Scott observed.

"Well, I guess you're making progress then," Jasmine responded wryly. "Use your tongue to separate her pussy lips. Run your tongue up and down between the layers of pussy flesh. Okay, good. Now gently spread her legs more with your hands. What you're looking for looks like a button or a tiny penis, covered by a flap of skin. Use your tongue and fingers. It will peek out at you, begging for more attention."

I squealed in delight, "Oh my God, I can't believe he found it so quick!"

Jasmine kept on lecturing. "Scotty, keep your tongue pointed and stiff, flick here and there, but keep coming back to her clit. Give it quick little sucks."

I screamed, "Jesus Christ almighty! I'm going to heaven! This is the fucking Rapture! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" I knew Scott would like the Bible references and they make him all the more enthusiastic.

My father got sentimental and was saying stuff like, "Son, I am so proud of you."

Melinda the nurse popped in just as my brother began to turn blue from me squeezing his face between my thighs as I kept yelling, "Oh yeah, speak in tongues, Scotty, speak in tongues!"

"Visiting hours are over!" the nurse screamed. "You girls have to leave immediately! If you're not gone in five minutes, I'm getting security!"

* * *

Jasmine and I returned to the hospital the next day to visit my father and brother. We had hoped that they both could be released that morning. But, when we stopped at the nurse's station to inquire about the matter, Melinda and the other nurses adamantly stated this would not be possible. They all seemed to be smirking.

"But Melinda, why not?" I kept questioning.

"It seems that your brother has an addiction."

"An addiction?"

"Yes, somehow he has become addicted to muffing. And your father, too. I'm afraid it will be a few more days before they can go home. The nurses here haven't had it so good since an entire football team was hospitalized on this floor as a precautionary measure. That turned out to be nothing but a scare. But can you imagine an entire football team with nothing to do but . . . uh . . . never mind, that's confidential medical information.

"But I have to go back to school today!"

"Well, you'll just have to get a muffing here then. Like all the rest of us."

Jasmine and I got our muffing. We switched places after awhile so the boys could have a taste of both the chocolate and the vanilla. Daddy was even up for a stuffing, so I gave him one. Not Scotty though. But he did let Jasmine suck his cock again, although he demanded that she tell his cock that she loved it. So she did. And she even gave it a name. I can't even describe how hilarious it was as she said, "I love you, Whitey!" over and over until Whitey, with a mind of his own, starting spouting back and shut her up.

When we started to leave, my father put his hand on Jasmine's arm and stopped her. "Jasmine, are you sure you can't spend Christmas with us? I'd really like to put on my Bad Santa suit and cum down your hot little chimney."

"Well, what are you having for Christmas dinner?" she asked, looking totally serious.

"Whatever you'd like my dear," my father replied.

"I'm dreaming of a Whitey Christmas," she began to sing beautifully.

"Don't forget the stuffing!" I added.

"Or the muffing!" Scott chimed.

My father stood, broken leg and all, and said very solemnly, "If families celebrated holidays like us, there wouldn't be any fucking wars."

"Amen!" Scott shouted, as Jasmine and I applauded.