Husbands and cookies are exchanged, to add holiday cheer.

Based on a post by SandyMarl, in 4 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.

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The Chix Annual Christmas Cookie Exchange

McNally topped off each of the four glasses, then tipped the bottle to her lips to make sure she'd drained the last sweet drop of Gewürztraminer. McNally smacked her lips before inserting her tongue into the brown wine bottle's narrow orifice. "Umm, a sweet little rim job before I recycle this dead soldier," she announced to a kitchen packed with a few of her long-time friends. "This dark guy is so sweet, I just love him," she said as she continued her fellatio pantomime by wrapping her lips around the narrow neck as she encircled her fingers and made a couple of strokes up and down the bottle like she was finishing a masterful blow job.

Her friends watched her risqué display and giggled, except for Patricia. Patricia picked through the array of Christmas cookie cutter shapes laid out at the edge of the counter, dropping her eyes as she scolded, "McNally, you should be more thoughtful of Dana. Your tipsy little joke is in poor taste in front of our hostess, especially at this time of year." Patricia meant it as a sobering rebuke, as if any of the girls present needed to be reminded of Dana's recently widowed status, especially around Christmas.

McNally pulled the wine bottle's phallic dimensions from her lips, setting it down and turning to Dana, "Oh crap, I'm sorry. You know I had no intention of opening painful memories; I was only trying to lift the holiday spirits with a little bawdy humor... I was just thinking..."

Dana turned to McNally, "I know. I know you McNally -- boy do I know you. You're always thinking we Chix should loosen up our inhibitions and take a walk on the steamier side of life; and boy are you always ready with a risqué joke, a steamy story or a naughty pun."

Dana broke into a smile, and then spoke to her closest friends, "Hey Chix, you guys are so great! You're the only reason I'm able to get through this time of year. Without y'all, I'd be nothing but a blubbering mess this Christmas. Facing the painful first anniversary of Sander's passing is really hard. It'd be unbearable if I had to go through it alone. The support of my Chix means everything to me right now."

Dana forced a cheery voice and continued speaking after dusting the flour off her hands. "I insisted y'all come into my kitchen this year and fill it with holiday cheer, so it'd be like the good times we had before. I want everyone to make a big sugary mess for me to clean up and keep me busy. Our annual Chix Christmas cookie exchange is our tradition; it's now more meaningful to me than ever. I'm dreading the holidays..." Dana paused to collect her emotions before continuing, "... as the holiday season approaches, I fear being all alone, left to deal with the memory of Sander's skiing accident by myself. I need my Chix more than ever right now. I need something to keep my mind from dwelling on the anniversary of the accident."

Dana gave a congenial but forced looking smile to the women in her kitchen. "McNally, you go right on giving your Gewurztraminer boyfriend's long, brown glass cock a good sucking, it's fine with me and the rest of these kitchen voyeurs. Keep it up, all of you, be merry and I'll find a way to get by."

Annie wiped a tear off her cheek as she stepped to Dana, wrapping her arms and her baggy, ugly Christmas sweater around Dana, managing to get cookie dough crumbs in Dana's hair in the process. Annie hugged Dana tight, embracing her in a prolonged hold to convey her sympathy and shared grief at the loss of Dana's husband last year. Annie teared up again as she remembered gathering with McNally and Patricia to take down the tree and put away all the festive Christmas decorations in Dana's house as Dana planned Sander's funeral.

It was all so sad, so hard to deal with. Annie admired McNally's flair to disregard the implicit sadness hanging over their annual Chix Christmas cookie exchange; but didn't want to get between McNally and Patricia as they scuffled over the proper decorum in Dana's kitchen under the circumstances.

Annie let go and pulled away from her embrace, and as she did, she gasped, "Oh Dana, I'm sorry. Look what I've done, my dirty apron made a mess on your top. I'm sorry."

Dana laughed, "I should've expected this would happen, wearing black when I'm in the middle of a hen party with flour flying all over my kitchen. I thought I'd feel and look slimmer wearing black, a self-deluding effect to counteract my debauched cookie sampling today. I might as well just drop these little Santa cookies down my pants and let 'em stick right there on my hips," smacking her hands on her ass for emphasis.

Annie, trying to make up for the accidental flour dusting, began to brush her fingers across Dana's boobs, fussing and worrying she'd ruined Dana's pullover. Dana laughed it off, "Annie, stop fretting, it'll wash out, no problem. Relax. Let's all have a good time making a mess as we bake and decorate our cookies. There's something festive about a busy and messy kitchen. I just love it."

McNally watched from the other side of the counter as Annie dabbed and wiped the front of Dana's chest, "I know what you're getting for Christmas - one of those cordless hand vacuums; they market it as a bust duster." Everyone cracked up at McNally's pun, even Patricia.

The timer went off; Patricia stepped to the oven to check on the first batch of cookies. She pulled out the cookie sheet and put it on the cooling rack.

"Those look perfect," Annie announced.

"They're not perfect until they're decorated," responded Dana. "They're just plain-Jane naked right now. It's our job to get them all dressed up in their Christmas fancy-pants."

"Oh, Patricia, can you grab the box of sprinkles and glittery decorating doo-dahs from the cupboard next to the oven?" asked Dana. Patricia set the full box of decorating doo-dahs on the kitchen table.

McNally burst into song, "Doo-dah, doo-dah, Camptown ladies sing this song, all the doo-dah day!" McNally's three friends joined in a final chorus, "Doo-dah, doo-dah, all the doo-dah day!"

"Now things are starting to sound festive," declared Dana as she mixed bowls of red and green frosting. "McNally, there's a bottle of Riesling in the garage fridge -- I know I don't have to ask twice to get you to bring that one in and pour another round."

Annie said, "This is sounding and feeling like old times; like back in the beginning when we worked at Dix Chix. Who remembers which of us four started waitressing first at Dix?"

"Wasn't me," was McNally's contribution from the hallway, "I'm the youngest of the Chix."

"It could've been you; you've always had a reputation for starting early McNally," was Patricia's retort.

McNally laughed at the ribbing. "I seem to recall that Annie got hired a few days ahead of me."

"So, when did we become collectively known as 'The Chix?'" was Dana's follow up question.

Annie answered, "It was Patricia. She advertised to all the boys that there were some interesting Chix to be found in the backroom of Dix Chix Family Restaurant after closing. If a boy had the right stuff, he could find his way into the place and get a few drinks, no ID required."

"That may be true, but I got the idea from that new girl," said Patricia in a defensive tone. "The new girl suggested it was a crying shame that us four Chix had to close up on Friday and Saturday nights without having any cocks around to make it fun," was Patricia's recollection. "Being the studious college girl, Mrs. Dix trusted me with the keys and the liquor inventory."

"And who might have been the corrupting 'new girl' who put that idea of letting some cocks into the back room with those chicks?" asked Dana with a smirk.

"I hear she's still tending bar somewhere, perhaps more corrupting than ever," Patricia offered in an offhand guess.

McNally, a seasoned barmaid, filled the wine glasses scattered around the kitchen, "I just thought it was false advertising to have a big neon sign that flashed Dix Chix, yet only the Chix half of the attraction was available. I merely suggested to the old timer running the show that if we were working to close the place on Friday and Saturday nights, we owed it to ourselves to have a crew of Dix to go with the Chix. Like the sign said."

Annie asked, "Patricia, I've always wondered, how did you choose which boys got an after-hours invitation to the backroom?"

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