I’ve had it with Christmas, at least the version where I fly across the country and pretend everything’s fine at my parents’ place. My dad isn’t the man who raised me. Somewhere over the last few years, he drifted from moderate to Fox News junky, and then straight into a pool of YouTube conspiracy nonsense. By Thanksgiving, he wasn’t even hiding the racist parts anymore.

I’ve never hidden from my parents that I had all kinds of friends and dated anyone. They’re the ones who raised me to be so open-minded, but whatever my dad had become, it felt like an attack on some of my choices.

I told my mom I wasn’t coming back for Christmas. It broke her heart, but she got it. I should’ve left it at that. But the things Dad said kept repeating in my head, eating at me. I couldn’t let it go.

My friend Allison joked that I should “send him a message he’ll never forget.” At first, I laughed it off, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do it. I didn’t know if I’d actually follow through, but just the idea of putting it together felt like the kind of petty rebellion that I needed.

So Jean-Michel and Gerard came over one night. I had a tripod, some decent lighting, and a photo app that promised to make any picture I took look good. The idea was stupid and simple, which somehow made it perfect.

A sexy picture of me with the two biggest black guys I knew, both Haitian immigrants. And if I had the guts, the plan was to ‘accidentally’ slip it into a Christmas card to send back home.

The guys didn’t really get it, but they were game. We had a few drinks first to loosen up.

“You’re really serious about all this?” Gerard asked.

“I think so. Yeah. I mean, right now it's just a picture, right?"

“One that’ll piss off your dad.”

“Or remind him how he raised me. It’s up to him how he takes it.”

“What if he drops dead?” Jean-Michel joked.

He didn’t know my dad. He was way too stubborn for that. “He won’t. I just want him to have a hard think about what his grandkids might look like one day.”

We were more than a little tipsy by the time we made it into the bedroom. I had the camera set up a few feet away from my bed, that way we could stand in front of it with the not-so-subtle suggestion of what might have happened after the picture was taken.

“You guys get down to your underwear. I’m going to get changed in the bathroom.”

Jean-Michel laughed. “Why bother? You’re going to stand with us half naked but want to undress in private?”

Fuck it. He had a point. I shrugged and pulled my top off. The guys smiled and started to strip down.

In a few minutes, I was in my bra and panties, and the guys were down to their briefs. We were all wearing white. Total accident, but the three of us looked good together.

“Ok, my idea is to have you guys side by side, and me in front between you two.”

Gerard and Jean-Michel started moving, positioning themselves by the bed.

“I’ll smile. You two try to look like you’re about to do unspeakable things to an old racist guy’s daughter.”

I set a 15-second delay on the iPhone camera, then ran to the men and cozied up between them.

“Remember, look intimidating,” I said while making sure I had the right kind of smile on my face.

The camera flashed, and I couldn’t wait to see the picture. I was a little disappointed.

“Hmm. It’s ok. You guys nailed the look, but I don’t know, we don’t look convincing. It’s more Gap catalogue shot than ‘your daughter’s a black cock whore.’”

I went back to reset the iPhone. “Let’s try it again. A little closer this time, and don’t be afraid to touch me.”

I pushed the timer and ran back to my place. I backed into the guys so we were all pressed up against each other, and Jean-Michel reached around, putting his hand on my stomach. Something about that felt right.

The camera went off, and when I stepped toward it, Gerard gently took my hand in his, and I stopped. Oh, I thought. This is where it’s going. It could have been the drinks, or maybe this is what I wanted the whole time, but nothing more had to be said. 

Instead of going to the phone, I stepped between the two men and climbed into the bed, looking back at them over my shoulder. I knew they’d follow.

Gerard reached me first. He came down on the bed beside me, kissed me immediately, and slid his hand up my back to undo my bra. A few seconds later, I felt Jean-Michel tug at my panties, pulling them all the way off. He spread my legs wide and began to kiss the inside of my thigh, working his way up.

It all happened so quickly, but I didn’t want it to stop. I usually wasn’t this impulsive, but tonight, this is exactly where I wanted to be. I’d never been with two men before, and didn’t realize how much I’d love being the center of attention.

The guys had no intention of slowing down either. Gerard wrestled with his briefs, kicking them off as we kissed. I looked down at Jean-Michel, and our eyes met the moment he buried his tongue between my legs.

“Oh fuck, that feels good.”

Gerard pulled himself up and knelt beside me. He ran his thumb across my lips as he looked down. We both wanted the same thing. My hand went for his cock, and I took him in my mouth.

This was the picture I wished I could send. His sweet little girl, stripped naked between two hung Haitian guys. Merry Christmas, Dad.

“My God, Jean… you have to feel her mouth.”

“I have something else in mind first.” Jean-Michel stood and dropped his briefs. “Let’s get you on your knees. Right on the edge of the bed.”

I pulled away from Gerard long enough to shift into place, then he was back in my mouth. I felt Jean-Michel’s hands take hold of my waist as he pressed his cock into me. I wanted it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

“Holy shit. You’re huge.” The words came out in pieces, each one broken by his thighs smacking my ass. He fucked me like he’d been waiting for it all night. I let him take me and wrapped my lips around Gerard, giving him the best blow job I could.

It became hard to tell exactly what happened after that. Hands, mouths, movement, it all became a blur. At some point, the grip on my waist changed, and suddenly I was on top of Gerard. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jean-Michel wiping himself clean.

“You’re unbelievable,” Gerard said as his hands reached up and squeezed my breasts.

“Just trying to make Daddy proud.”

The memory of that night came back to me a few days later when I was looking at printed versions of the picture we took. I didn’t remember smiling that hard, at least not before we moved to the bed.

I slipped one copy of the photo into a card for Allison. It was all her idea, and she’d get a kick out of it. I already told her all the juicy details anyway.

The second copy stayed in my hand. I stared at it, thinking back to that night. I thought about how stubborn I’d been, how badly I wanted to shock my dad out of whatever he’d become, and how we might have just created a new Christmas tradition. If Advent calendars had a ‘chaotic decisions’ door, this picture would be behind it. Fingers crossed for next year, I guess.

The longer I looked at the picture, the more it felt like a little victory. That night proved something to me. None of the shit my dad said got to decide what my life looked like. Maybe that’s all I needed from this. Getting a life lesson from a threesome, who would’ve thought?

The card I chose for my parents sat on the table, tucked into an envelope with their address already filled out. I put the picture on top of it, still not sure what to do with it. I turned off the kitchen light and walked away.

Tomorrow-me could deal with it.