My wife and I are both only children from large extended families on our fathers' sides. My grandparents and uncles and aunts and cousins all live within a 50 mile radius, and only speak to each other at weddings and funerals, while Ellen's family is scattered all over creation and yet gets together at least once a year. Their Christmas get-togethers are such a given that I didn't dare suggest starting our own holiday tradition after we got married. Not that I wanted to completely; there are days when the feeling that I married Ellen's family when I married her is a good feeling. They're such a big warm welcoming friendly unit, both those who entered by birth and those added by marriage, though those of us brought in by marriage seem to have made little dent in the strength of the family gene pool. It's kind of a running joke that all the kids look like siblings. "Strong Genes" they always say. And as much as there were days that I would have preferred to follow the more isolated independent ways of my forebears, all those little kids running around did make for a festive atmosphere, even if none of them were actually ours, and even if they precluded long intense make out sessions on the couch in front of the fire and the Christmas tree with the snow piled up in drifts around the house.

The snow was piled up in just such a fashion when we arrived at Ellen's grandfather's house the first Christmas after our wedding. Ellen's cousin Aaron greeted us at the door, shaking my hand warmly and giving Ellen a long firm hug.

It was Aaron who had originally introduced me to Ellen, on a similar snowy day. It had dropped suddenly and unexpectedly, late in February, feet of the stuff, a record only recently broken. The University canceled all classes and left us to fend for ourselves. I made my way to the department lounge, and let myself in noisily, yelling to see if anyone else was there or if I was going to be stuck by myself. Aaron was staggering around looking disoriented and searching for his glasses, like he'd just woken up. I didn't know him well, but I was grateful for any company. It was then that I noticed the girl lying on the couch, also looking confused. I stared, wondering if people of different genders could be identical twins. They were both of medium height, with short, straight, loose brown hair, hawklike faces with sharp features and darting eyes, graceful necks, lightly tanned skin and well toned trim bodies. Both were wearing high collared, button front white shirts, tan chinos, and brown deck shoes, or were at least looking for the deck shoes. They weren't completely identical. The girl had beautiful curves. Not dramatic, but very obvious, and very right. I was staring. She found her glasses, put them on, and stared back. Then she smiled. There was an awkward silence. I felt like I had interrupted something. But then Aaron was smiling too, and introducing his cousin Ellen. The feeling fled, and we were soon chatting like family. Weeks of phone calls, years of dates, and one big wedding later, we really were.

Where were we? Oh yes, standing on the porch, shaking off the snow, shaking hands and hugging. Still hugging, actually. I'm not sure how long the flashback took, but they'd started hugging before my mind had wandered, and they were still hugging when I got back. It had been months since they'd seen each other. When we were dating at school she was still seeing Aaron almost every day. They had one class together, and on days when our schedules made lunch or dinner impossible she would eat with Aaron. When Ellen was off by herself, I was with Aaron. But he wasn't hugging me that long. I hadn't seen them hug this long since after our wedding, him in his tux and her in her gown. Finally they broke apart, and we all went inside.

The family were all milling around the front room, and no sooner had our bags been put down than we had been sucked into a maelstrom of hugs and handshakes and backslaps, pulled apart by the relentless tide of welcoming familial flesh. I found myself engaged in so many small repetitive conversations that I was rapidly losing touch with reality. I looked around for Ellen, but could not find her. A moment later I spied Aaron emerging from the back room, gathering up our bags and heading upstairs. Finally breaking free I threaded my way to the back room, where the sense of unreality became almost overwhelming. There was the Christmas tree, and the couch, and the fire, just as I had imagined it. Ellen's shoes were on the floor next to the couch. She had certainly wasted no time getting comfortable. I picked up her shoes and started for the stairs, trying to find our room. At the top of the stairs there was silence. An almost urgent silence. I called out her name. Somewhere a door closed, and then she answered. I followed her voice, opening a few wrong doors on the way. She was behind the third door, naked and gorgeous, sorting through her bags for clothes. Her hair was mussed, probably from taking off the turtleneck sweater that was thrown across the bed. Her face was flushed from the temperature change, and her nipples were hard. I wanted her. I stood behind her, kissing her neck, and she wiggled her ass back against me and giggled. The light under the door in the adjacent bathroom went dark. Out in the hall I heard a door close and feet recede toward the stairs. I was kissing the back of her neck, she was moaning and pressing back into me. I reached around to fondle her nipples and realized that I was still carrying her shoes. The moment was gone. She turned, kissed me, pushed me away, and continued dressing.

A couple of times I found her alone in the back room, taking a nap, and we really did manage to make out briefly on the couch in front of the fire and the tree before a stray uncle interrupted us. But for the most part, the moment didn't come back the whole week we were there. She seemed constantly flushed and excited, more so than any time since right after the wedding reception, but we got so caught up in the activities, the gift sharing, shopping for food, cooking food, and cleaning up after food, that we hardly saw each other, and at night she was exhausted, especially after the anxious day when she and Aaron went out for a walk in the woods and got lost for hours.

The week went so fast that I could hardly believe it when it was time to go. Her goodbye hug from Aaron was again long and drawn out, but the drive home, the car stuffed with different presents than we had arrived with, was essentially uneventful. Three days after we arrived home she convinced me it was time to have children, even if we had originally said we would wait a year or two. We fucked with a pent-up joyous passion in every position either of us could think of.

The following Christmas we returned to her grandfather's with a three month old child who would eventually grow up to look just like the rest of the family.