Selena Kitt

A Baumgartner Christmas

Carrie told the pharmacist at Rite-Aid that it was for her grandmother. She even said it with a straight face. Poor grandma, she was getting on in years and really couldn’t get around well anymore and needed one of those medical seats for the shower.

Carrie didn’t have a grandmother.

Or a mother or a father for that matter, at least any that she knew.

What she did have was a very sexually adventurous husband and a tiny little apartment shower and a definite aversion to getting a closed head injury due to any of the above. She’d had one close call already-they’d had to replace the shower rod, and thankfully her husband had caught her before she cracked her head open-but she didn’t want a repeat performance.

Doc laughed when he saw it and called it “cute”-but he wasn’t laughing when she got on her hands and knees on the stool and tilted her ass up as an offering, already soapy and wet and ready for him.

“Jesus!” He ran his hands over the curve of her behind as she arched up to meet him, practically purring at his touch. His cock was as hot as a brand against her thigh, instantly hard.

“You like my cute little stool now, don’t you?” she teased, swinging her ass slowly back and forth, a tease.

“I like your hot little ass.” He clamped both hands on it, spreading her cheeks, and she looked back to see that dark, wolfish look in his eyes he got when he was on the edge of losing control. She loved that look and knew what it meant.

“This ass?” She tightened her muscles, winking her asshole at him, hearing that low growl building in his throat. She barely had time to breathe before he was inside of her, plunging deep into her pussy, no buildup or foreplay, just a straight shot, as far and as deep as he could go.

Carrie yelped and clawed at the wall tile, bracing herself against the onslaught. She’d never been more grateful for a piece of furniture in her life, clinging to the edges of the stool, her knuckles white.

“Oh god, that’s so good,” he panted, grabbing her hips and driving in deeper. “Such a tight little pussy. But I know you’ve got something even tighter for me, don’t you, baby?”

She moaned as he circled her asshole with one finger, his cock slowing inside of her as if changing its mind all on its own about which orifice it wanted to fuck.

“No, no,” she whispered, knowing it was no use, giving only lip service to her denial. Her body knew what it wanted. The press of his finger was insistent, the soap and water mixed making her crack slippery enough for him to slip his first digit inside of her with relative ease.

“Did you really think you could get up here on display and not expect me to take your ass?” He finger-fucked her nice and slow, making her thighs tremble.

“I was hoping,” she murmured, pressing her cheek to the tile, her blonde hair hanging in wet strands across her face.

Doc chuckled, moving his hips back, sliding slowly out of her pussy. The steam rose around them in a cloud, the heat of the shower making her feel faint.

“Let’s see what else we can do with your new toy. Turn around.” He guided her when she didn’t move, sitting her bottom down on the shower stool, making her face-to-face with his groin. “Oh that’s just the perfect height, isn’t it?”

She nodded, not able to say anything else because his cock was aiming for the back of her throat. Carrie swallowed his length, letting him fuck her mouth, spreading her thighs wider on the seat and leaning forward, the hard plastic sliding against the shaved swell of her pubes, her clit looking for something to rub up against.

“That’s my good girl.” He fisted a handful of her hair, tilting her head back so he could see her eyes, so full of hunger she could barely contain it. He watched his cock disappear again and again, rubbing the head against the roof of her mouth until she could taste his pre-cum in her throat.

Carrie arched like a cat being petted when he reached for her breast, fondling her, the flesh heavy in his hand. Just touching her made his cock harder in her mouth and she moaned in response, trying to take even more of him, choking as a result. He eased off, rubbing the head against her lips, her cheeks, while she sought it again with her tongue, too greedy to let him go.

“Hungry girl.” He rubbed pre-cum over her chin and she watched as he dipped his cock downward, playing connect-the-dots with the beaded water on her breasts. Carrie lifted them in her hands, looking up at the way his gaze followed the trail he made over her skin as if the heat of his cock alone could leave a visible trail of fire.

“Fuck my tits, Doc.” She gave them to him like a gift, pressing them together, her dark nipples hard. He didn’t need to be asked more than once, shifting his hips and sliding in from underneath. Carrie watched, delighted, as the tip of his cock appeared between her cleavage. She snaked her tongue down to taste him, running along the underside, back and forth, teasing that sweet ridge.

“Suck.” He shoved up harder, getting the head into her mouth, just enough so she could close her lips over it. She applied a gentle suction, looking up to see his eyes flutter closed, his mouth slightly open. Using her tongue, she rocked back and forth underneath the head of his dick, cradling the frenulum. He groaned at the sensation, his hips moving again, riding the tunnel her breasts made between the press of her hands.

“Oh baby,” she whispered, arching her back for more. “Does that feel good? You like your cock between my big tits?”

Doc bit his lip, grabbing a bar of soap and waxing up his shaft and fucking her harder in response, the wet froth of the soap and his pre-cum mixing, churning sweet cream in her cleavage. Carrie’s hands got all soapy too, her tits overflowing with suds, making it harder and harder to keep up good friction for his cock. He stopped for a moment to lean down and kiss her, sucking her tongue into his mouth, slapping his dick against the swell of her breasts.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he murmured against her lips, teasing her nipples with his cock head. “I’m gonna fuck that hot little pussy ’til you come all over my dick.”

Carrie gasped when he reached down and cupped her mound, the water from the shower pooling there, making the wet plunge of his fingers into her pussy even wetter. She rocked against his hand, forgetting about his cock, forgetting everything but the way her body responded to him, her clit throbbing for release.

“But that’s not all, baby,” Doc whispered hotly into her ear, shoving his fingers in harder, deeper, using his thumb against the ridge of her clit. “Then I’m gonna fuck your tight little asshole.”

She cried out as he slipped a finger down to the tight ring of her ass, clenching in response, not letting him in, but he kept on rubbing, coaxing her gently open, his fingers still working in her pussy, twisting and probing both holes now. Carrie gave in, leaning back on the stool and lifting her legs, putting her feet up over his shoulders, giving him a better angle. He took it, kneeling in the bathtub and drowning himself in her pussy, the water spraying them both now, running over his hair and down his face.

“Doc!” she cried, feeling his finger slip deeper into her ass, just one, the others still doing their work deep inside her pussy. She imagined his cock there, so much bigger, the stretch and burn of him, and she shuddered, knowing it wouldn’t be long and he would be fucking her ass.

“I love your fucking pussy,” he growled, his tongue flicking at the rigid bud of her clit, sucking at the juices of her flesh. Carrie curled herself around him, grabbing onto his hair, her body rocking on the little stool. Doc grabbed her hips to keep them both from toppling it over, his tongue mashing her clit, burrowing his face between her legs, the water cascading down his back.

“Doc! Oh!” She fisted her hands in his hair, rocking up, working for her orgasm. “Make me come!”

He curled his fingers inside of her, the one in her ass pressed deep, and anchored his mouth over her mound, the first flutter of her climax clenching the walls of her pussy. Carrie cried out, letting it overtake her, the hot, wet spasm of her pussy shooting exquisite flares of pleasure blooming through her veins. She clung to him, whimpering as his fingers slowly left her pussy and her ass, his head coming up between her thighs.

He was grinning from ear to ear.

Carrie laughed, putting her arms around his neck as he leaned in to kiss her, half standing now. She tasted the hot musk of her pussy on his tongue and she lapped at it, drinking it in, wrapping her legs around him as he positioned himself between hers. His cock was in her before she knew what was happening, his aim so good it made her cry out in surprise.

“Oh fuck baby.” He stopped as he bottomed out, his mouth crushing hers, his cock throbbing, spearing her so deeply it almost hurt. Her pussy was swollen from her climax, her labia thick and pink and rubbed raw from his mouth. When she reached down to touch him, he groaned, her fingers playing along the pulsing veins of his cock, searching for that place where she began and he ended, that delightful point where they were joined.

“Turn over.” He slid out, grabbing her hips and pulling her to standing. Carrie let him maneuver her onto her hands and knees on the stool. It was an uneasy perch, but Doc wasn’t hearing any of her protests. He was searching for entrance, the hot, mushroom head of his dick making a hot trail between her thighs, seeking deeper heat.

“Yes!” She cried out when he found her center, invading her pussy from behind, pulling her hard into the saddle of his hips. Carrie braced herself on the stool for his onslaught and she wasn’t disappointed. His cock pounded her pussy with brutal force from behind, his groans mingling with her own, reverberating against the shower walls.

“Oh Doc, that’s so good!” she gasped, daring to let go with one hand, a dangerous maneuver, but unable to resist the siren call of her clit, pulsating hotly between her thighs. She rubbed herself in time with his thrusts, taking him deep, deeper, again, more, still more, his fierce assault rocking the stool on its legs. “Yes! Fuck! Fuck me hard, baby! Do it hard!”

She loved it, and he knew it-that hot pounding of their flesh together, the wet slap of their bodies, the flex of his thighs against hers, the stroke of his balls against her hand and clit with every new rush of flesh. He filled her completely, her pussy raw and aching already from his stiff invasion. She couldn’t get enough of him.

“I want your ass.” He pulled out quickly, making her squeal in protest, and she glanced back to see him greasing himself up with soap, a handy lubricant.

If she thought she’d been full before…

“Oh! God!” She gasped, her toes curling as he used his thumb against the spongy head of his dick, pressing it against the clench of her asshole. He felt massive, hazardly huge, and she took a deep breath, rubbing at her clit, trying to relax and take him.

“Easy,” he murmured, moving his hips slowly forward. She felt his thighs trembling and she trembled with him, knowing the savage desire he was holding back as he took it inch by inch. “Steady, girl. That’s it. Open it up for me. Ohhhh fuck, yeah, just like that.”

It burned and stretched and then he was in, rushing past that hot clamp and pressing in, leveraging himself against her ass. She arched and bit her lip against the pain. It was a brief stabbing thing, fading away to a gentle pulse, and then he was fucking her, his breath coming far too hot and fast for it to last very long.

“Doc,” she whimpered, rubbing her clit in furious circles, hoping to catch up to him. She loved the sounds he made, those low, guttural cries, like a wild animal, growing more savage by the moment. “Oh, please, please, please!”

She didn’t even know what she was begging him for. She was far too gone, delirious with wanting him.

“Baby,” he gasped, working his cock through the constricted band of her asshole again and again, driving into her humid depths. “Oh fuck! Baby! Gonna come!”

And then he was filling her, the primal thrust of his hips driving her against the tile wall, his cock sunk deep and spewing white hot lava into her asshole. Carrie sobbed with the force of it, his hands gripping her ass, his fingers bruising her hips, his body giving another vicious shudder as he spent himself completely inside of her.

“Oh god,” she whispered, licking her lips and looking back at him. “Oh baby, that was so hot. I want to come so bad.”

He moaned and slid out of her ass, his cock visibly throbbing and still half-hard against his thigh as he turned her around on the stool again, his mouth poised over her pussy. She squirmed happily, still urgently working her clit toward orgasm, anticipating the hot press of his tongue to take her right over the edge.

That’s when Doc’s beeper went off.

“Oh my god, Doc, no, don’t you dare!”

He let out a frustrated groan, but yanked the shower curtain open anyway, reaching for it. His beeper was sitting on the side of the sink, next to his razor. Carrie sighed, leaning her head back against the wet tile.

“I’m sorry.” Doc was already rinsing off, his beeper back in its place. “I’ve got to go.”

“The hospital?” She knew, of course. Who else?

He sighed, getting out. “Yeah.”

“Are you sure you want to be a doctor.” She sighed, using her foot to turn the shower off. The water was getting cold anyway.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he apologized. She watched the towel making its way over the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his belly, his cock still persistently half-hard as he rubbed himself dry.“I’ll make it up to you tonight. I promise.”

“Tonight?” She made a face, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. “We’ve got that Christmas thing tonight, don’t we?”

“Damnit, that’s right.” Doc ran a comb through his dark curls. She loved the way that little Elvis-curl fell over his forehead. “I can’t bail. I promised Wilson we’d be there for moral support.”

Carrie rolled her eyes. “Is he still pining over that Chlamydia chick?”

“Camille.” Doc smirked, grabbing his boxers and pulling them on.

“Same difference.”

“I wouldn’t want to work with my ex.” Doc yanked on his scrub pants, making it final-he was going to work and there was nothing she could do about it.

“No, it sucks for him,” she agreed, trying anyway. She couldn’t get the memory of him out of her mind, his cock pounding her ass. She leaned back on the stool, spreading her thighs wide, showing him as much pink as she could.

“Damnit, Carrie…” He was definitely distracted, his scrubs shirt caught halfway down his chest. His voice was choked, pleading. “Will you stop?”

“I can’t…” She whimpered, her fingers parting her pussy lips, showing him, teasing the aching bud of her clit. “It feels too good…”

Doc groaned, checking the time on his beeper and then looking back at her as she played with herself. “I’m gonna get in so much trouble.”

But he dove in anyway, his scrubs getting wet where he leaned against the side of the tub, pulling her pussy against his mouth. He went straight for the win, his tongue practiced and sure, giving her just what she wanted-what she needed.

“Yes,” she whispered, drawing her knees up, spreading wide for him. Her belly quivered, her thighs spasming, her climax so close she could almost taste it, but she wanted to hold off, wanted him here, wanted it to last forever and ever…

“I love your cunt.” His dirty talk sent shockwaves through her body, ratcheting her senses up even higher. “So fucking hot.”

He spit on her pussy, as if she wasn’t wet enough, and then swooped back in, rubbing his face all over her flesh. Carrie whimpered, trying to hold off, knowing it was impossible. He was going to get what he came for, whether she liked it or not.

“Gonna come,” she panted, her eyes closing. “Oh baby, I’m gonna come all over your face!”

And that’s just what she did, giving him what they both wanted, her body convulsing with electric heat, her husband a conduit. She fed him every last bit of her orgasm, sliding off the stool to the floor of the tub near the end, collapsing into a sweet, wet puddle of jelly at his feet.

“There.” Doc grinned, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “That should hold you for a little while.”

“You wish!” She called, her hoarse voice belying her words, as Doc rushed out to get dressed.

“What are you doing today?” Doc called from the bedroom.

“Laundry.” Carrie got out, drying off and wrapping a towel around her head, coming out of the bathroom to find him sitting on the bed, pulling his socks on. Her body was still flushed from her climax.

He frowned. “Sure you don’t want to wait for me?”

“Baby, if I wait for you, neither of us will have any underwear.” Carrie snorted. “Besides, I have a laundry date.”

“Oh?” Doc paused, his foot only half in his shoe. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

She grinned. “Daphne.”

“Oh, Daphne.” He grinned back. “You can fold her up and bring her home in a basket with you if you want.”

“Very funny.” She whipped the towel off her head, using it to rub her hair dry.

Doc came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck. “Can you at least accidentally get some of her panties mixed in with our laundry? Preferably dirty ones?”

“Doc!” She laughed, twisting in his arms, mock-pouting. “You’d rather have her panties than mine?”

“Of course not.” He scoffed, kissing her softly, drawn in by her mouth, her tongue. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing your panties next to hers… especially if you’re both in them…”

“You’re incorrigible.” She pressed herself fully against him, breathing in shampoo and aftershave and another smell that was just wholly and completely “him.” It was a scent that lingered about him and one she craved. She wouldn’t have admitted it, but sometimes when he was gone, she would go to his closet and bury her face in his shirts, a sensory reminder.

He kissed the top of her wet head. “You know I love you and would do anything for you.”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” she said airily, stepping out of the circle of his arms and stepping into a pair of panties. “I’ll just carry those big, heavy baskets to the Laundromat all by myself…”

He rolled his eyes, putting his wallet and keys and things into his pockets. “You’re a very bad girl.”

“A bad girl?” Carrie crawled seductively up onto the bed, presenting her ass to him like she had in the shower, this time with the stretch of pink panties over her behind, looking back at him with a smirk on her face. “A bad girl who needs a spanking?”

“Trouble,” Doc muttered, his eyes getting that dark, wolfish look again. “I married trouble, I’m telling you.”

“But you love trouble.” She waved her behind at him, a tease.

“You have no idea.” Doc groaned, tackling her on the bed, making her squeal and kick beneath him as he kissed her quiet.

Carrie smiled, tracing the line of his lips as they parted. “Go save the world.”

“Only if you promise you’ll be waiting for me when I get home.”

“Always.” She kissed the tip of his nose.

Doc pressed his forehead to her breasts, nuzzling. “I’m a lucky man.”

“Go,” she whispered, trying to ignore the sweet sensations traveling from her nipples to her clit as he caressed her. “Before I decide to lock the door and tie you to the bed.”

“Promises, promises.” He lifted his head to kiss her again, briefly, before bolting for the door.

Carrie sighed, languishing on the bed for a moment, running her hands over her body, remembering the way he touched her, wishing they could have had a quiet, uneventful Saturday together. She hated when Doc had to rush off to the hospital, but that was the life of a first-year on-call resident-there was no getting around it-and in spite of the inconvenient hours and calls, she knew her man was following his calling, doing just what he was born to do. Somehow that made up for the empty feeling when he had to leave her like this.

The university provided central laundry facilities for everyone in married housing but their apartment was at the edge of the complex and consequently half a mile from them. There was a little Korean Laundromat right around the corner, however, where the machines took bigger loads and fewer quarters, so instead of packing everything in the car and going to use the married housing facilities, Carrie put her two baskets into a little red wagon, put on her winter coat and mittens, and walked around the corner.

Daphne was already sitting in one of the orange plastic chairs, a book open in her lap and two machines spinning with laundry behind her. She got up to help Carrie with the door, allowing her to wheel her wagon in unimpeded. They had the place mostly to themselves. There was just an elderly woman in the corner folding doilies on a table and a scruffy looking guy asleep in the row of seats on the other side of the Laundromat, his arms crossed, head back, mouth open, snoring lightly.

“Hey girl.” Daphne let the door swing closed behind her. “I thought you weren’t coming!”

“Sorry,” Carrie apologized, flushing. “I got…um… distracted.”

“Oh?” Daphne raised one finely plucked red eyebrow, putting her book down on the chair beside her and watching as Carrie opened a machine, starting to put clothes in. “You and Doc doing a little horizontal mambo this morning?”

“Something like that.” Carrie laughed, closing the washing machine and digging in her jeans pocket for her roll of quarters. She loaded up the coin slot, shoving it in and pulling it back out, hearing the click and first whoosh of the water filling the machine.

“A little frolic in the cornfield? A romp in the hay?” Daphne teased. “Churning some butter? Batter dipping the corn dog?”

“We were having sex, not visiting the county fair.” Carrie snorted, picking up her friend’s book and sitting beside her. “What in the hell are you reading?”

“Give me that.” Daphne flushed, grabbing the book out of her hands. It had a picture of a bare-chested man on the cover and a woman with what couldn’t be described as anything but a heaving bosom. “While you get to do it, some of us just get to read about it.”

Carrie smirked. “You seriously need a man.”

“You’re telling me?” Daphne sighed, running a hand through her mass of red hair. It was thick, long and wavy, the color of a shiny copper penny. She tucked the paperback into the back pocket of her jeans.

“It’s your own fault.” Carrie leaned back in her seat. “You could have the pick of anyone on campus.”

The redhead wrinkled her freckled nose at her friend. “Shut up.”

“You could and you know it.” Carrie nodded at the sleeping guy across the aisle. “You could go up to that guy right now, wake him up, and ask him to go back to your place, and he’d jump at the chance.”

“Stop it.” Daphne rolled her bright blue eyes, crossing her arms. She was wearing a pink Ren and Stimpy shirt, stretched tightly across her ample chest. She could have modeled for one of her romance book covers.

Carrie shrugged. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to just read about it, if you don’t want to.”

“A girl’s got to have some standards.” Daphne looked at the guy, snoring away across from them, his Doc Martens sticking out into the aisle.

“Maybe yours are too high,” she speculated. Daphne snorted, but she wasn’t really offended. They said things like that to each other. It was one of the reasons they’d gravitated to each other in the first place, their ability to tell each other the truth, no matter what the other might think.

She and Daphne had only been friends for about half a year, having found each other in the Laundromat and discovering that talking and drinking coffee and eating donuts together for the few hours it took to do laundry was a much better way to fill the time than just sitting there watching the machines spin.

They’d found they had a great deal in common, even if their present circumstances were quite different. Daphne’s parents had died when she was young, leaving her to be raised by a maiden aunt. Carrie had never known her parents at all, living most of her young life in various foster homes. They both knew what it was like to be alone in the world.

But Carrie had to admit, she felt a little guilty, having Doc, while Daphne had no one.

“What, I should just go over to Mr. Scruff and say ‘Hey, let’s you and me bump uglies?’”

Carrie glanced over at the guy. He was a little rough around the edges, but still kind of cute. “Why not?”

“Because he’s not the one.” Daphne waved the suggestion away, reaching for her purse and pulling out a stick of gum.

“What are you waiting for?” Carrie took some Fruit Stripe gum from her friend’s pack.

Daphne chewed thoughtfully, finally saying, “Mr. Right.”

“I’m afraid he doesn’t exist.” Carrie blew a bubble and snapped her gum.

“He does too-you found him, didn’t you?”

“Well…” Carrie felt that stab of guilt again. Daphne was always telling her how lucky she was to have Doc. And she knew she was.

“I blame you.” Daphne poked her lightly in the ribs. “You proved that it’s possible.”

“So what are you doing for Christmas?” Carrie asked, trying to change the subject.

“You mean, speaking of Christmas miracles?”

She laughed. “Ho ho.”

“I’ll be working at Blockbuster, what else?” The redhead tossed her gum wrapper toward the trash can full of lint and missed. “Me and the Jewish kid are splitting the Christmas shifts.”

Carrie felt guilty about that, too. Daphne was working her way through school, and although Carrie had her undergraduate degree and had gone to college in Boston on scholarship and grants-where she’d met Doc in the first place-she hadn’t really done anything with her degree since.

Doc said he liked having her home, and while things got a little tight sometimes, with Doc’s residency paying just enough for them to live on each month, they really wanted to have a baby, and she didn’t want to be tied down to a job when that happened. They’d had one bright moment of hope last year, but she’d miscarried that baby and hadn’t gotten pregnant again since.

But every time Daphne mentioned her job at Blockbuster and her diet of Ramen noodles and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, Carrie felt a twinge of guilt about not going to school or having a job.

“What are you guys doing?” Daphne interrupted her friend’s thoughts.

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “Doc’s parents are talking about going to Key West. They have a timeshare on a private beach. But I’d miss the snow at Christmas time…”

Daphne scoffed. “Are you kidding me? You have the chance to spend Christmas on a private beach in Florida and you’re complaining?”

Ouch. There was that twinge of guilt again. “I’m not complaining, exactly…”

“Well I’d jump at the chance, if I were you.” Her friend got up to retrieve the gum wrapper and slam-dunked it into the basket.

“So you’re all by yourself then?” Carrie could have kicked herself for the way she’d worded that.

“I’m always all by myself.” Daphne shrugged, taking her seat again. “Unless I’m with you.”

“I think you should date more,” she told her emphatically, reaching around and pulling the book out of her friend’s pocket. “Spend time with some real guys instead of paper ones.”

Daphne grabbed for the book, but Carrie held it out of her reach. “It’s kind of hard to have a social life when you’re pursuing a degree in astrophysics.”

“Yeah, guys are kind of intimidated by that, huh?”

“To say the least.” Daphne leaned across her friend, the fullness of her breasts pressed against Carrie’s arm. Doc’s mention of her friend this morning had Carrie looking and thinking about her friend in a whole new way. “Gimme my book!”

“Well you could always play dumb.” Carrie stretched, holding it out further. “What’s in this book that’s so interesting anyway? Love’s Unbound Wrath. What kind of title is that? Do they actually fuck? Or is it all purple prose? Like ‘He slid his manhood into her quivering sheath…’”

Carrie flipped the book open, scanning the pages, and laughed at her discovery. “Oh my god, you didn’t! You actually underlined it!”

Daphne turned bright red, almost matching her hair. “Give it back!”

Carrie took aim and made it-the book dropped into the lint-filled wastebasket. “Two points!”

Daphne flounced over and retrieved the book from the garbage, shaking it off and putting it back into her pocket.

“I’m sorry,” Carrie apologized as her friend took a seat beside her. Daphne relented a little, her posture relaxing as Carrie slid an arm around her waist. “What we need is to find you a smart guy.”

Daphne leaned her head on Carrie’s shoulder. “No nerds.”

“Hey!” Carrie brightened at her own idea. “There’s a Christmas party tonight for all the residents. Doc’s making me go. Wanna come?”

“What an appealing offer.” The redhead smiled.

“Free food, free drinks-and tons of eligible doctors.” Carrie leaned closer, her voice dipping to nearly conspiratorial tones. “Smart doctors.”

“One would hope,” Daphne said wryly.

“Come on, Daph.” She tickled her friend’s ribs, making her giggle. “Do it for me. It would be way more fun with you.”

“Hmm. Maybe.” Daphne looked over at the guy across the aisle. Their antics had awakened him.

“Cute doctors…” Carrie reminded her.

“You got the best one already.”

She grinned. “True, but not the only one.”

“Oh hell, why not.” Daphne gave in, grinning back.

“Hey, I think you’re done.” Carrie glanced at the row of machines behind them.

Daphne laughed. “Let’s hope that’s not a euphemism for anything.”

“No, that’s your laundry beeping, not your pacemaker.”

Daphne laughed, pulling open the washer, reaching inside for a handful of wet clothes. “What do you think?” She held up a pair of red panties. Carrie noticed the scruffy guy across the way, his eyes averted but clearly watching them anyway. “If I wear panties like this, will I catch a cute doctor for a husband?”

“Maybe if that’s all you wear.”

“It’s a thought.” Daphne held them up against her crotch, cocking her hip to one side, making her utterly irresistible. “These and a Santa hat?”

“Cute,” Carrie agreed. “But the results would likely be a gangbang, not marriage.”

“Or both,” Daphne quipped, laughing at Carrie’s raised eyebrow look. “Hey, a girl can dream, can’t she?”

* * * *

“Maybe I should introduce Daphne to Wilson.” Doc handed Carrie the rum and Coke she’d asked him to fetch from the bar. He slid in beside her, draping an arm casually across her shoulders.

“Oh, I don’t know, Doc.” Carrie sipped her drink, glancing toward the bathroom where her friend had disappeared a few moments before. “He’s on the rebound.”

“So?” Doc knocked back the shot he’d ordered, making a face and shuddering just slightly. “He’s a cute doctor, right? He fits the bill.”

“Wilson’s kind of… eccentric.” Carrie smiled into her glass, seeing him getting his order up at the bar. There weren’t too many residents with fat, dark ponytails and eyebrow rings. In fact, Wilson was the only one. But the University of Michigan had accepted him in spite of his alternative looks-and ideas-and that was a testament to his intelligence and skill, she knew. He was just that good.

Of course, he wasn’t as good as her Doc.

“I’m a cute doctor.” Doc pouted, actually sticking out his lower lip at her. “I don’t see why I can’t be on the list.”

She nudged him, her breath thick with alcohol as she whispered in his ear. “Because you’re already taken.”

“I know that.” He smiled, sliding her chair a little closer, so their hips were touching. “But that never stopped us from having fun before.”

“That was in college.” She knew what he was talking about. Of course she did. But their foray into threesomes and seeing other people had been brief and they’d been totally monogamous since they’d taken their wedding vows. Not that Doc hadn’t mentioned other people before, and they’d both fantasized, of course, and had even shared those fantasies with each other.

But they’d been happy enough without literally bringing other people into their relationship-why was he bringing this up now? She glanced at him, wondering if it was the booze. Or maybe he really was bored? That thought terrified her. She wanted to be enough for him. He was certainly more than enough for her.

And she’d never taken him up on his offer of being with another woman after they’d gotten married, even though he’d been very open about it. “Whenever you want-even without me,” he’d assured her. It was true, she’d always been attracted to women as well as men-and her affair with Maureen, her roommate and best friend in Boston, had been proof enough of that. They’d even included Doc in their little tete-a-tete, making it a true menage a trois. That was, until Maureen had taken Jesus Christ as her personal Lord and Savior and had married a fundamental Christian.

Maybe it had been the messy way things had ended with Maureen that had put her off from trying it again. But the truth was, she was happy with her Doc. She didn’t need anything or anyone else, she reasoned. He was her whole world.

Carrie waved at Daphne as she came out of the bathroom. The girl was dressed for a man-hunt, her red hair a river of lava over the black material of her blouse, which was completely see-through. Her black bra underneath was lacy and showed a lot of cleavage. Her red skirt was short, trimmed in black lace at the hem. And as far as Carrie could tell, she wasn’t wearing any stockings or hose. It made her wonder if her friend had worn those sexy red panties.

Doc leaned over, reminding her, “Hey, we’re still in college.”

“Graduate school doesn’t count.” Carrie pulled out a chair as Daphne approached.

Doc chuckled. “Experimenting ends with an undergraduate diploma? No one told me.”

“Stop.” Carrie poked him in the ribs, smiling as Daphne took a seat in front of the rum and Coke Doc had brought for her. “So, girlie, see anything you like?”

The redhead smiled, her gaze sweeping over Doc, their eyes meeting briefly, before shifting out onto the dance floor. The residents’ Christmas party was a big affair and included interns and other hospital staff as well. They held it at a country club every year, the same country club most of the residents would someday probably belong to, if they stayed and practiced as doctors there.

“Lots of potential,” Daphne mused, sipping her drink. “But I’m picky.”

“You can afford to be.” Doc winked as he paid her the compliment, standing and picking up his glass. “I’m gonna get myself another shot. Anyone want anything?”

“Hey, who’s driving home?” Carrie inquired, tugging on his suit coat as he passed.

“Wilson.” Doc nodded toward the bar. “He’s the teetotaler.”

“Who’s Wilson?” Daphne asked, following his gaze.

“Come on.” Doc held out his hand. “I’ll introduce you.”

“No, Daph, come dance with me first.” Carrie was as surprised as anyone else at the words out of her mouth, but she had Daphne’s other hand in hers and was pulling her friend toward the dance floor before Doc could verbally protest. But he did raise his eyebrows at the sight of them putting their arms around each other and grinding to the music.

“Who’s Wilson?” Daphne asked again as they moved together. Carrie felt a stirring in her groin as her friend wrapped her silky arms around her neck. The smell of her perfume was heady, and the feel of her body, all softness and curves, brought back memories that made her knees tremble.

“See the guy with the ponytail, talking to Doc?” Carrie’s hands went to her friend’s waist. The black material of her blouse moved over the silken skin underneath and she found herself thinking about those red panties again. “That’s Wilson. See that blond over there? The one dancing?”

Daphne craned her neck. “The green dress?”

Carrie nodded. “That’s his ex. She’s a resident here too.”

“She looks like a ballbuster.” Daphne smirked, her hips moving to Prince’s Little Red Corvette as if they had a mind of their own.

“She dumped him for that guy she’s with.”

“The Ken doll?” Daphne made a face at the tall, blond Adonis that Camille was dancing with. “Why’d they break up?”

“He told her he wanted kids some day.”

“Oh.” Daphne nodded sagely. “She didn’t?”

“Oh no, she did.” Carrie moved her mouth closer to the shell of Daphne’s ear. “She just said she didn’t want him to be their father.”

“Oh my god.” Daphne pulled back, all wide-eyes.

“Yeah.” Carrie glared in Camille’s direction. “Said she was looking for better genetic material.”

“What’s wrong with Wilson?” Daphne glanced back to the bar where Doc and Wilson were talking about something, laughing together.

“Nothing. He’s brilliant. Top of his class.”

“Ahead of Doc?”

Carrie smirked. “Tied.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Well.” Carrie shrugged. “Look at him.”

“What? I think he’s kind of cute.”

“If you can get past the piercings,” she reminded her. “And the tattoos.”

Daphne’s eyes brightened. “He has tattoos?”

“Several.”

“Where?”

Carrie couldn’t help laughing at her friend’s enthusiasm. “I’m sure he’d be happy to show you.”

“Come on, let’s go back.” Daphne practically pulled her to their table where Doc and Wilson were now sitting.

Doc was quick to make their introductions. “Wilson, this is our friend, Daphne.”

“Hi.” Wilson nodded. “Daphne. That’s an unusual name.”

“So’s Wilson.” She slid into the seat beside him, next to Carrie.

“It’s my last,” he admitted. “But it’s better than my first.” He turned to her, that curious Wilson look on his face. Carrie knew it well. “So were you named after Daphne Odjig?”

“The artist?” The redhead rolled her eyes, but Carrie saw the spark in Wilson’s at her recognition of the name. How many people knew Daphne Odjig? Maybe it was a match made in heaven after all. “I wish. My parents were far less cultured. I was named after the Scooby-Doo character.”

Wilson laughed. “Well it’s still better than being named after a dead philosopher.”

“Socrates?” Daphne guessed.

“Nope.”

“Plato?”

Wilson shook his head. “Aristotle.”

Daphne’s eyes went wide. “My apologies.”

“That’s why they call me Wilson.” He took a sip of his Coke, smiling around the straw.

“So I hear you’re the designated driver?” Daphne asked.

“I don’t drink,” he told her. “It’s more fun to watch other people get drunk.”

Daphne lifted her rum and Coke to him. “Well then you’re in for a treat tonight.”

“Cheers.” Wilson laughed and they clinked glasses and Carrie watched them, feeling a lump growing in her throat and a tight ball of fire in her belly. She knew the feeling immediately, although it surprised her beyond words. She was actually jealous.

“Dance with me.” Doc pulled her into his arms on the floor, leaving Wilson and Daphne alone at the table. It was a slow song and they swayed together, quiet. Finally, Doc leaned over and whispered, “You can have her.”

Carrie startled, raising her gaze to his. “What are you talking about?”

“Green isn’t your color.” He pulled her closer, nuzzling his face against her hair. “Don’t tell me you’re not. I know that look. You’re jealous.”

“I am-” Not, she thought, but she couldn’t say it, because she knew he was right. “Does it really matter?”

“Of course it does.” Doc tilted her chin up and their movement slowed to practically nothing. He looked at and talked to her like they were alone, as if they were the only ones out there on the dance floor. “I see the way you look at her. You think I’m bored with you, that I’m pushing my own agenda, but I’m not. It’s you, Carrie. You want something else. Something that includes more than just me.”

“I don’t-” She shook her head, confused, resting her cheek against his chest, feeling the steady beat of her husband’s heart. Was he right? Things had been difficult between them at times lately, far more tense than ever. She’d been short and angry, more of the “nagging wife” she swore she’d never be. She’d even asked him on occasion-what was wrong with her? Doc just kissed her and held her and told her he loved her.

But things had started falling apart like this right about the time she’d met Daphne. That couldn’t just be a coincidence-could it?

“Trust me.” His lips pressed against her ear. “I know you better than you know yourself.”

And she knew that was true.

“I love you.” She closed her eyes and let that dizzy feeling take her as they danced, spinning on the floor, letting him lead, always.

Carrie spent the rest of the night watching her friend fall for Wilson, trying to drown her jealousy with Fuzzy Navels. When that didn’t work, she switched to Seven and Sevens, and by the time they made the announcement for last call, she was doing shots of Cuervo Gold.

Doc practically carried her to the car and she rode the whole way home, listening to Wilson and Daphne laughing and talking about The Violent Femmes in the front seat like teenagers, comparing music collections and remembering first concerts.

“You sure you remember where you live?” Carrie asked, leaning forward to ask Daphne, who ws giggling in the front seat as they neared Carrie and Doc’s apartment.

Her friend laughed. “Well if I can’t, maybe Wilson has room for me at his place?”

“Sure.” Wilson smiled, easing his Camaro up to the curb outside their apartment. Carrie felt Doc’s arm tighten around her waist.

“Goodnight you guys.” Carrie pushed the door open and got out, Doc following close behind.

“Talk to you tomorrow!” Daphne waggled her fingers at her through the window and then Wilson was pulling away, leaving them alone.

Carrie swallowed the bitterness in her throat. “Think Wilson is gonna find out if she’s wearing her red panties?”

Doc unlocked the front door. “Lucky bastard.”

“Hey, I’m not wearing any panties at all,” she announced, peeling off her coat and letting it drop to the floor.

“Brat.” He grinned as she pressed herself up against him as the door closed, sliding his coat off too.

“You could see right through her top,” she whispered, nuzzling his neck, feeling his cock pressed against her hip, already hard.

“I noticed.”

She smiled, sliding her hand down to rub him through his trousers.“I noticed you noticing.”

“How come we never do stuff like that anymore?” His hand was wandering too, checking to see if she’d been fibbing about her pantiless condition and finding that she’d been telling the truth.

“Mmmmm.” She rocked as he cupped her smooth, shaved mound. “Like what?”

His fingers teased her clit. “Like we did in college.”

“You want to do that again?” She got down on her knees, unzipping his slacks and pulling him out. “You’d like to see both of us down here on our knees sucking your cock, wouldn’t you, baby?”

He groaned.

“Two pussies to fuck,” she whispered, licking around the head, slapping him lightly against her cheeks. “Two mouths to suck on you.” She sucked him gently, pretending she was fighting over his cock with some girl. Not just some girl, but Daphne. God, that thought made her so wet. She glanced up at him, seeing the light in his eyes. “Two hot little assholes to fuck.”

He threw his head back, moaning. “I bet she’s never had a cock in her ass.”

“And I bet she’s a redhead all over,” she added, standing up to kiss him, tugging his dick in her hand.

“You want to lick that little pink pussy, don’t you, baby?” His tongue twined with hers, his hips moving in rhythm. “She’d taste so good in your mouth while I fucked you from behind.”

“Oh Doc…” Her ass clenched, imagining it, seeing Daphne’s face buried between her legs, getting fucked good and hard from behind, her soft moans and each thrust driving her forward into Carrie’s wet flesh. “Oh my god…

“Tell me.” His fingers found her again under her skirt, slipping into her wetness. “Tell me you want that little pussy all over your face.”

“I do,” she admitted, her whole body energized with the thought. “Oh god, I haven’t tasted a pussy in so long.”

“Here.” He lifted his fingers to her mouth, making her take them, suck them. “Lick it off. Taste your pussy.”

She grabbed his hand, using her tongue to get every last drop, dipping between each finger. It left a thick coating in her throat that just made her want even more. She found herself wishing they’d invited Daphne to spend the night. What would they have done with her, she wondered? What wouldn’t they have done? But would Daphne have been open to it?

“Think she’d let me lick her little pussy?” she wondered out loud.

He pressed her toward the bedroom, turning on the light, never taking his fingers out of her wet pussy. “Are you kidding me? Have you seen the way she looks at you?”

“No…” She let him push her back onto the bed, shoving her dress up over her hips, his fingers pistoning in and out of her, the hot squelch of her pussy filling the room. “How does she look at me?”

“Like she wants to eat you up.” He knelt at the side of the bed, spreading her legs and rubbing his cheek over her soft, swollen pussy lips. “Like she worships you. Like she’s starving for you.”

“Really?” She thrilled at the thought, wondering if it was true. Did Daphne want her-as much as she wanted Daphne? Because she did, in her secret heart-she knew there was nothing she wanted more than to be with her best friend. She’d probably wanted her from the beginning, but hadn’t been willing to admit it.

“She wants you almost as much as I want you.” He sucked her labia into his mouth, teasing her, not going near her clit. His tongue made sweet inroads through her the wet, pink folds of her flesh, growing nearer but taking his time. “I’d love to watch you lick her. See her climb up on top of you and sit on your face.”

She moaned, feeling his tongue nudge her clit on the way by. “God. She’s got such a hot little body. Those gorgeous tits.”

“Mmmm.” He flicked his tongue against her clit for a moment, a brief flutter, before heading downward again. “I bet she’s got little cherries for nipples.”

It was driving her crazy just thinking about it. “Oh yes, yes,” she whispered, grabbing his hair, guiding him back up to her clit. It was throbbing. “Lick me, baby.”

“Just like Daphne would?” He stabbed his tongue at her, making it hard, a blissful assault. “Show her what you like, baby. Make her lick your cunt.”

She grabbed his ears and shoved her hips up, moaning loudly as she began to grind her hips in circles. She was imagining it, her hands wrapped up in Daphne’s long, red hair, her tongue mashed against Carrie’s wet pussy, her breath hot, her pink nipples hard, her own pussy soaking wet. Carrie imagined her friend sitting on her face, the soft grind of her hips, the taste of pussy, oh god, that taste in her mouth, down her throat…

“Make me come, Daphne!” she cried, bucking up against the lash of Doc’s tongue, all the while imagining her friend’s mouth against her clit. “Oh fuck, make me come for you!”

Her orgasm hit like a bolt of lightning, the convulsions little shockwaves, her pussy clamping down against the thrust of his fingers again and again. She rode her climax off the edge of the bed, shivering and collapsing onto the floor next to her husband, letting him enfold her, kiss her, caress her, as she came back to reality.

“Such a good girl.” He kissed her cheek, her chin, getting up and lifting her onto the bed. “Why do you always deny yourself? You can have everything you want.”

She closed her eyes, shook her head, but he was kissing her open, his tongue probing, his cock hard against her hip. Somewhere along the way, his trousers had come off.

“You can’t have everything,” she murmured, letting him lift her dress over her head. “No one can have everything.”

“You can,” he assured, taking her nipple into his mouth. The feeling sent heated waves of pleasure all through her body. “I’d give you anything. You know I would.”

She worked the buttons on his shirt-his suit coat and tie had disappeared too, lost somewhere on the floor with his pants and boxers, she imagined-spreading it open so she could run her hands over his chest. He was so nicely built, and the fact that he took advantage of the gym at the hospital whenever he got a break-to relax, he said-didn’t hurt.

That made her remember what Daphne said about already finding the best husband in the world. The fact was, she had. But he was perfect for her, not for everyone else. And did she really want to share him?

“You could make it happen, you know.” He peeled his shirt off and moved to her other nipple, tracing lazy circles.

She let her fingers glide through his dark curls. “You mean… me and Daphne?”

“You and Daphne,” he agreed, nipping at her, making her squeak in high-pitched surprise. “You, me and Daphne. Whatever you wanted.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “What if I don’t want it?”

“I think you do.” He reminded her by spreading her legs and sliding his cock against her soaked cleft, her cum still wetting her thighs where she’d been imagining her best friend getting her off just moments before.

“It’s a nice fantasy, I admit.” She smiled, feeling his cock swelling, the head of it pressed against her opening. “But reality might be disappointing. Look what happened with Maureen.”

He shifted his hips and slid inside her. “We had a good time until she decided to get religion.”

“She made a commitment to her husband, remember?” She wrapped her legs and arms around him, going for an easy, gentle ride as he began to move.

“But if her husband had said, hey, it’s okay if you and your girlfriend play around, what then?” he asked, his breathing coming faster in her ear.

“The real world doesn’t work that way.”

He poised himself above her, his eyes searching hers. “We get to define the real world. Our world. Any way we want.”

“I’m just scared of what might happen,” she confessed, rocking up against his cock.

“Then we don’t have to do anything.” He kissed the tip of her nose, beginning to fuck her again. “We can just fantasize about it. Which is almost as much fun.”

She smiled, closing her eyes. “Almost.”

“Where do you want her?” He pushed her legs back, kneeling up between them. “How about down here, licking your little clit?”

“I want her straddling my face.” She threw her arms over her head, giving into the fantasy, no longer as threatened by the possible dangers of reality. “I want to wrap my arms around her hips and bury my face in her wet little pussy.”

“Mmmm that’s my girl.” He moved faster, driving his cock in to the hilt. “I’d love to watch you eat her out.”

“And you could kiss her,” she offered, opening her eyes to look at him, imagining it all-her friend’s hips rocking on her face, Doc’s hands on Daphne’s big breasts, thumbing her nipples, sucking her tongue into his mouth. “And touch her and play…”

“Oh god.” He groaned, just as into the fantasy as she was. “I want to suck those gorgeous tits.”

“After I made her come all over my face…” She smiled at her husband’s expression. Just the thought of Daphne’s climax had him going. “She could put her pussy down by mine,” she suggested, her fingers moving to her clit, the ache there growing unbearable again. “Lay on top of me, so you could play with her tits while you fucked me…”

“Yeah, oh yeah!” His hand found her breast, squeezing hard, his cock making wet noises in her pussy as he fucked her.

“And then you could fuck her too,” she whispered, her fingers brushing the base of his cock as he plunged deep inside. “Her, then me, then her… which one of us feels better?”

He groaned, shaking his head, already torn at the thought of making such an impossible decision.

“I want you to come all over us, Doc,” she insisted, her pussy blooming with pleasure. “Come all over our hot… pink… wet… cunts.”

He gave up, growling and reaching down to grab his cock, tearing it out of her and pumping it in his fist against her frantically rubbing fingers.

“Yeah! Yeah! Oh fuck yeah!” He gritted his teeth and thrust one last time, cum exploding from his cock, all over her clit. She came the instant she felt the first fiery blast, felt it flooding her pussy, dripping down her crevice. Her climax shook them both, her thighs quivering as she came, her hips bucking up to catch more of his cum, the second eruption rising over her belly, splashing her navel.

She smiled dreamily, reaching down and running a finger through his cum, then lifting it to her mouth, sucking it off. He watched her with dark, lustful eyes.

“If that was Daphne’s belly, I’d get down and lick her all clean,” she informed him, smiling as he collapsed next to her on the bed with a tortured moan.

“Enough, I can’t take anymore.” He threw a leg over hers and pulled her close. “You’re killing me.”

She knew just what he wanted, what he liked. And he wanted Daphne-maybe more than she did. Maybe. But she knew better than to open Pandora’s box. The fantasy was good.

Just as good.

Almost as good.

That was enough.

Wasn’t it?

* * * *

“Hewwo?” Carrie’s tongue felt too big for her mouth as she grabbed for and answered the phone, head throbbing. She closed her eyes against the brightness of the sun slanting through the blinds, turning toward the wall and taking the phone with her.

“Carrie? Is that you?”

She tried to gather saliva in her mouth so she could speak more clearly. “Hi Nan.”

It was her mother-in-law.

Of course it was.

“Are you sick, dear?”

Ah, the perfect excuse. “Just a little bug.”

“I’m sorry to wake you, but I thought noon would be late enough to call.”

“It’s fine, I was just napping.” Sleeping like the dead was more like it, but why quibble?

Doc snored beside her and she nudged him, shushing his groan as he opened his eyes.

“Your mother,” she mouthed.

“I was just calling about Christmas,” Nan went on.

“Mmm-hmm.” It was safer not to try and use any vowels.

“Chuck and I sent you tickets. I just want to make sure they don’t get lost in the mail. I overnighted them.”

“Oh.” Carrie rubbed her aching eyes. They had talked about Key West, but they hadn’t made any decisions. Apparently, Nan had made the decision for them.

“Is Stephen there?” Nan was the only one who ever called Doc by his given name. Even his father called him “Doc.”

“Hold on.” It was far easier to hand Nan over to her son.

He tried to push the phone away, but Carrie wouldn’t let him, forcing it to his ear.

“Hi, Mom.” His voice was far clearer than her own. “What’s up?”

Carrie pulled her pillow over her head, listening to him “mm-hmm” his mother until the end of the conversation.

“Okay, Mom, sounds good. Love you too. Bye.” Doc dropped the phone on the bed with a groan and Carrie scrambled for it, hanging it up before her mother-in-law could listen in on their conversation. She loved Nan, but she knew better than to share everything with her. Hangovers didn’t go over too well with parents, even when the children were technically adults.

“Let me guess.” Carrie shoved her head back under her pillow. “We’re going to Key West?”

“Don’t you want to go?”

She sighed. “Oh I don’t know…”

“I think it will be good for us.” Doc’s hand moved over his wife’s lower back, massaging.

She poked her head out, opening one eye. “Do you?”

“We need a vacation.” He smiled, sliding his hand over the curve of her behind. “Maybe we can recharge our batteries.”

“Are yours so weak?” she teased.

“Let’s find out.” He slipped his hand between her legs, seeking heat.

She scissored her legs closed, groaning. “Oh god, no, I can’t even think about it. My head is swimming.”

Doc chuckled. “You can thank the tequila.”

“I’m going to stay in bed all day.” She grabbed for the comforter, curling onto her side and settling in.

“Can’t,” Doc said regretfully. “We promised Wilson we would go get a tattoo with him today, remember?”

“Today!” She covered her eyes with her hand, shaking her head, which was a mistake, because her brain rattled around inside her skull, sending sharp pains down her neck.

He laughed, getting out of bed. “Well I didn’t know you were going to be hung over, or I’d have rescheduled.”

“Oh god, Doc, I can’t possibly.” She peeked out at him, pleading.

“I’ll make you my hangover special.” He sat next to her on the edge and kissed her cheek.

“It will make me puke.”

“Yep.” He grinned. “You’ll either puke or be cured. Either way, you’ll feel better.”

* * * *

“Chicken.” Doc poked Carrie in the ribs but she shook her head stubbornly, crossing her arms and watching as Wilson’s left bicep bloomed with blood and ink. The image was taking form, a serpent wrapping around his arm, over his shoulder, and across his back. He’d had work done on it before and this was the final visit.

“So I changed my mind. It’s a woman’s prerogative, isn’t it?”

She sat on one of the stools, too tired to keep standing. Her head had finally cleared, after Doc made her drink a horrible concoction-whiskey, coffee, Tabasco sauce, a raw egg and cracked pepper, mixed in a glass of orange juice-and as she’d predicted, she had thrown it up. But then she’d felt a little better, especially after four Advil and about a gallon of water. But she still had that residual kind of haze in her head, like it was wrapped in gauze.

“You said you were gonna get my name tattooed over your heart.” Doc poked her again, this time in the chest, and Carrie stuck her tongue out at him.

“A tattoo is forever,” Wilson reminded them, smiling at their banter.

“Which is why it’s not such a good idea to get anyone’s name tattooed anywhere.” The tattoo artist had clearly gone against his own advice-he had three names in a connecting heart on his forearm. But he explained that away almost immediately. “Unless it’s your kids, of course.” He pointed to his arm. “Three girls.”

“Well I know I’ll be yours forever.” Doc wrapped his arms around Carrie’s waist and kissed her cheek. “I have no qualms about getting your name tattooed on my body.”

“You could get it tattooed on your dick,” Wilson joked. “Then no one would ever see it but Carrie. In theory, anyway.”

Her eyes widened as she glanced back at her husband. “I’d better be the only one to see it!”

“I’ve done cock tattoos,” the tattoo artist said, smiling up at her. His name was Brad and he was far more tattooed than Wilson, tendrils of black tribal marks snaking up his neck under his black t-shirt. At least you couldn’t see Wilson’s when he had street clothes on.

Carrie stared at him, a little shocked. “But… don’t they have to… you know… have an erection…?”

“At the beginning, yeah.” Brad winked at her, rubbing his chin with the back of his gloved hand. “We put a stencil on when it’s erect and then we can stretch the skin after that. Although the closer we get to the head of the cock, the more likely a guy is to stay hard.”

She blinked at him, his meaning finally dawning on her. “It feels… good?”

“Yeah.” Wilson nodded, agreeing. “It hurts soooo good.”

“You’re kidding me.” Carrie turned to him, her mouth agape.

Doc laughed. “You’ve got a tattoo on your dick?”

“What is it of?” Carrie couldn’t help asking.

“You wanna see?” Wilson reached for his belt buckle.

“Whoa there!” Doc punched him lightly on the shoulder. “We just crossed the line into too much information.”

Wilson settled back in his chair and Brad went back to work, but Carrie couldn’t help sneaking glances down at the zipper on his jeans, far too curious for her own good.

“So what are you gonna get, Doc?” Wilson looked back over his shoulder at the job the tattoo artist was doing.

“I don’t know for sure.” Doc shrugged, glancing at her. “I was thinking about-”

Carrie made a face when his beeper went off. That was never a good thing, never.

Doc swore, checking the number. He looked at her regretfully. “Babe…”

She sighed. “When is the emergency rotation over again?”

“After Christmas.”

“You should be on-call like I am for the OB rotation.” Wilson rolled his eyes. “It’s actually worse. I spent seventy-two hours at the hospital last week, and I think I slept about three of those.”

Doc nodded. “That’s next semester.”

“Great,” Carrie remarked sarcastically. “Something to look forward to.”

Doc was already pulling on his coat. “Hey, can you take Carrie home for me?”

“Sure,” his friend agreed. “No problem.”

“How long will you be?” Carrie put her arms around her husband for a kiss.

He gave her what she was looking for, far too briefly. “I’ll call you.”

She pouted. “We were supposed to have dinner.”

“You can still have Mexican delivered. Save some for me.” He kissed her again and then let her go. When he got to the door, he turned back and called out, as if just remembering, “And hey-no showing off cock tattoos.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Maybe I’ll get a vulva tattoo.”

“No you won’t.” He laughed. “Chicken.”

“Call me!” She waved as he pushed the door open.

“I will.” The bell tinkled as the door closed behind him.

Carrie sighed and took a seat next to the tattoo artist, watching his progress. They were the only ones in the shop.

Wilson saw the look on her face and nudged her with the tip of his combat boots. “Well, Tonto, I guess it’s just you and me.”

She smiled wanly. “Heigh-ho, Silver.”

They hadn’t spent much time together without Doc, so it was a little awkward at first, but by the time his tattoo was finished and Brad was greasing it up with Vaseline, they were talking everything from tattoos to their favorite television shows and laughing like old friends. She was surprised how easy he was to talk to.

“Are you suuuuure you don’t want to get a tattoo?” Wilson nudged her as he pulled out his wallet to pay for his new body art. “Last chance. You could get a lower back tattoo. Doc would love it.”

“Nope.” Carrie shook her head, adamant. “Not me. If they could do it without needles, I’d be all in, but I’m not into that pain thing.”

“You can do a temporary, see what it looks like. Just try it out.” Brad reached under the counter, pulling out a stack of temporary tattoos. “Look through, see if you find anything you like.”

Carrie frowned, pawing through them. “How do they go on?”

“Just warm water and a washcloth,” Wilson reassured her.

“No needles,” Brad agreed. “That one would look hot on your lower back.

It was a Celtic knot design, twisty and winding and sexy. She imagined Doc’s reaction when she showed it to him-pretending, of course, that it was real, that she’d been brave enough to go through with it. It would be a fantastic joke.

“Okay, I’ll do it. How much?”

“For you?” Brad glanced at Wilson and smirked. “Free. Come here.”

Brad came around behind the counter and led her to the back, Wilson following behind. He wet a washcloth with hot water, instructing Carrie to lie down on what looked like a massage table.

“Undo your pants,” he instructed.

She looked back at him, wide-eyed.

“You want it on your lower back, right?”

Wilson grinned, watching as Carrie undid her jeans, inching them down her hips so they could both see the black triangle of the thong she was wearing.

“Perfect.” Brad pressed the temporary tattoo to her back, applying the warm washcloth, which actually felt really good. “Now just hold still for a few minutes.”

“How long before it wears off?” She twisted, trying to see, but it was no use.

“A few days.” Brad lifted the edge to check it. “If you want it to come off before then, just rub it down with baby oil or vegetable oil.”

“Oh man, Doc is going to have a fabulous time doing that,” Wilson muttered, his gaze never leaving her ass.

Carrie laughed, blushing, asking him, “How does it look?”

“Sexy as hell.”

Brad nodded, agreeing. “Tattoos like you.”

“Can I see?” She rolled to her side, going over to the full length mirror hanging on the wall and turning so her back was to it. Her jeans were still undone, open in front, revealing the black lace top of her panties, but she was focused on her back where the tattoo had transformed her skin with black swirls, the pattern drawing the eye toward both dimples on each side of her ass. It was far sexier than she had imagined, and when she looked up at Brad and Wilson and saw identical looks of restrained hunger on their faces, she knew Doc would love it.

Brad cleared his throat. “Like it?”

“Love it!” She pulled her jeans all the way up, buttoning and zipping. “Thank you so much!”

“No problem.” Brad led them to the front of the shop. “Come back when you want a real one.”

She smiled, waving as they pulled on their coats and pushed open the door. “Maybe I will.”

Wilson’s Camaro got them back to her apartment in record time.

“Do you still want to order dinner?” she offered, her hand on the car door handle.

“Do you want to?” Wilson shrugged, rubbing at his goatee. “I don’t want to impose. This was supposed to be a threesome sort of thing.”

His words hung there, the suggestion in them palpable.

“Come on.” Carrie reached over and turned the key in the ignition to turn off the engine, sliding it out and putting them in his pocket. “It will be fun. Mexican food and reruns of I Love Lucy. What’s better than that?”

“Can’t think of much.” Wilson followed her into the apartment.

As promised, the little Mexican place around the corner delivered hot tamales and quesadillas in under an hour. Wilson ate four burritos while Carrie ate only half her quesadilla, putting the tamales away for Doc.

“He hasn’t called me yet,” Carrie pouted, glancing at the clock. It was already late-going on ten-and she’d hoped he’d be back in time to at least hang out with them for a while.

“Emergency rotation is crazy.” Wilson wadded up his napkin and sat back with a groan, patting his belly. “That was so good. I’m stuffed.”

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

He raised his pierced eyebrow, glancing at her. “Sure.”

“What do you think of Daphne?”

“Nice girl.” He closed his eyes, sinking lower in the couch. “Cute. Why?”

“Just wondering.” She couldn’t help but wonder, after seeing them together. Daphne hadn’t answered her phone that morning and she hadn’t had a chance to call her again to see if Wilson had actually stayed a while at her place-or if she had gone to his. She found herself thinking about them together, wondering if Daphne knew just what Wilson had tattooed on his cock.

He squirmed on the couch, making a face. “Damn thing’s really starting to sting.”

“Your tattoo?”

“Yeah.” He sat up, pulling off his shirt and looking over his shoulder. Carrie looked too, she could help it. He was just as well-built as her husband-a little leaner, lankier, but still, nice washboard abs and a broad chest. Daphne could do worse, she thought.

“This is why I’m a fan of temporary ones.” She leaned over to inspect the damage on his bicep. “No pain at all.”

“Want to do me a favor?” Wilson reached into his jean pocket, pulling out a little packet. He tore it open with his teeth and squirted something gel-like onto his bicep, starting to rub it in. “Can you put some of this on my back? I can’t reach.”

“Sure.” She spread the grease all along his shoulder where the snake coiled, each scale a dark, almost glowing green singed with black.

Wilson hissed through his teeth, glancing back at her.

“Hurt?” She tried to do it more lightly, although she found herself wanting to really massage it into his skin, dig her fingers deep into his muscles. She smirked. “You must have had fun after you got the tattoo on your cock.”

“Unfortunately, I wasn’t dating anyone at the time.” He laughed. “But I did have a bit of fun all by myself.”

She grinned. “I bet.”

“Thanks.” He pulled his shirt slowly back on and they both got up to wash their hands.

“What a waste of lubricant,” Carrie remarked, soaping up.

“I’ll say.” Wilson dried his hands on the kitchen towel, glancing at her standing at the sink. “That tattoo is so sexy peeking over your jeans like that.”

She glanced behind, pushing her bottom out, trying to see. “Is it?”

“Doc’s gonna have fun all over that thing, isn’t he?”

She laughed. “I sure hope so.”

As if on cue, the phone rang. She grabbed it off the wall, sure it was him, and it was.

“Another hour?” She sighed, looking over at Wilson, still fiddling with the towel. “Yeah, he’s still here. Do you want him to wait?”

“I gotta get going anyway.” Wilson tossed the towel onto the counter. “I’m on call tomorrow.”

Carrie listened as Doc talked to someone in the background. Then he said, “I love you, baby. I gotta run,” and hung up.

“Well I guess I’ll watch my I Love Lucy video boxed set all by myself.”

Wilson hesitated, his coat half-on. “Do you want me to stay?”

“No, it’s okay.” She smiled. “Doc will be home soon.”

“Well, thanks for dinner.” He stopped at the door. “Tell Doc I said goodbye.”

Carrie went over and put her arms around him, giving him a hug. “Thanks for taking me home. And thanks for talking me into a temporary tattoo. I think Doc’s really gonna like it.”

“I’m sure he will.” He gave her a lop-sided smile and then he was gone. She heard the engine of the Camaro start up outside, a loud roar subsiding to a gentle purr.

Carrie peeked out the blinds, watching him pull away, and then, instead of putting in a VHS tape, she turned off the lights and settled herself on the couch in the darkness. She couldn’t stop thinking about the tattoo on Wilson’s cock. Was it Celtic, like the one on her back? A snake? He seemed to like snakes. Maybe something funny or silly?

She undid her jeans, easing them down her hips, all too aware of the temporary tattoo on her lower back, like a brand. She smiled, imagined Doc’s reaction, rubbing her fingers over the wet, black crotch of her panties. They were soaked-she hadn’t realized how excited she was, how very turned-on. The sexual tension between she and Wilson tonight had been almost tangible.

Not that she would ever do anything about it, she chided herself, fingers circling her clit, sending hot ripples through her body. She started like Wilson’s car-fireworks and then a low, purring rumble, a slow, hot revving up that swelled toward something more.

She wished she’d gotten a chance to ask him about Daphne. Had he fucked her? She could call her friend, of course, and find out, but she decided to ease the sexual tension before satisfying her curiosity. Besides, she could imagine them together, imagine Daphne’s mouth stretched over his tattooed cock, his fingers playing in her red bush. That was fun.

It was more fun to imagine herself between them, though, she discovered. Her pussy fattened at the thought, heating up nicely under her hand, imagining Wilson’s cock sliding into her own pussy, oh yeah, just like that-she shoved three fingers in, imagining taking him like that, Daphne kneeling over her face, presenting her with her own wet pussy.

Carrie wanted him. She wanted Daphne, too. God, what’s wrong with me? She thought, her face flushing at her own greedy, lustful fantasies. Was she so depraved? It had to be wrong, thinking like this, wanting more than what Doc could possibly give her. But the more she let herself think about it, the more she craved, like a woman crawling across a desert in search of water.

“Mmmmm yeah,” she whispered, licking her lips, trying to taste Daphne there. She licked her own fingers for inspiration, rubbing rapidly at her clit. “Oh yeah, fuck me, Wilson. Fuck me with that big, fat, tattooed cock.”

Oh god, that was good. What did he look like with his hair down, she wondered? All that long, dark hair, that sexy little goatee, tattoos over his belly and chest and arms. Were there other piercings she couldn’t see?

She gasped when she heard Doc fumbling with his keys outside the door, paralyzed in the darkness on the sofa. But instead of hurrying to pull up her pants, she yanked them off, getting up to go meet him at the door wearing just her panties and a t-shirt.

She was on him the instant the door swung open.

“Woah, what-?”

She didn’t let him answer, crushing his mouth with hers, suffocating him, already unzipping his coat, working the buttons on his shirt.

“Welcome home,” he joked as she pulled him toward the bedroom. She turned on the light, letting him see her standing there in her black thong, but she didn’t turn around, not yet.

“Are you going to go back and get a tattoo?” she asked, watching as he left his shirt and coat on the floor while she got down on her knees to undo his belt.

“Maybe. Do you want me to?”

“It might be sexy. Something here…” She kissed his belly as she unzipped him. “Or here…” She reached up to tweak his nipple. Then she got down to business, yanking his pants and boxers down, taking the head of his soft cock into her mouth. “What about here?”

He chuckled, watching her swallow his cock. It was growing harder by the second. “I don’t think so. Not unless you’re getting one.”

She spit on his cock, rubbing the head against her lips. “I dare you.”

“Maybe if you promise to suck it like that every night,” he groaned, sliding deeper into her throat.

“I’d suck it like this every night anyway.”

Doc reached down to fondle her breasts through her t-shirt, thumbing her nipples, making them hard. She was already soaking wet and ready for him, but she wanted him to see.

“Guess what I did?” She swallowed, looking up at him with bright eyes.

He raised his eyebrows. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Look.” She stood, turning around and walking toward the bed, hips swinging. Then she crawled up onto it, waving her ass, and pulled off her t-shirt, undoing her bra and tossing it aside.

“Oh god.” His voice was a whisper, eyes wide. “Oh my fucking god. I am so going to come all over that.”

She pulled her panties down her thighs, spreading herself wide for him. “That’s what I hoped you’d say.”

He found her as if his cock was steel and her pussy a magnet, drawn right into her wetness. Grabbing her hips, he shoved himself deep into her pussy on the first go, parting her flesh easily.

“So fucking wet!” he gasped, fucking her from behind as he stood next to the bed. “Oh baby, that tattoo is the sexiest damned thing I’ve ever seen.”

She moaned, wiggling her ass back against him. “Like it?”

“Fuck yeah.” He rolled his hips, working his cock into her inlet, his thumbs rubbing over the dark lines and curves of the tattoo on her back. “Hot. Fucking hot. Oh god.”

“Fuck me, Doc,” she panted, rubbing her pussy from underneath, feeling the hard drive of his cock and wanting more. “Do it hard! Come on!”

“Jesus, baby.” He grabbed her hips, pounding into her, trying to give her what she asked for. She could feel his cock getting bigger inside of her, his own excitement building, catching up to hers.

“Deeper! Oh yeah! Give me that big fucking dick in my cunt! Gimme, gimme, gimme!” she chanted, her fingers circling her clit, pushing herself closer and closer to the brink.

Doc grunted, slapping her ass, leaving a red handprint and making her shriek in surprise. Her pussy spasmed in response and she bit her lip, hovering just at the verge of climax.

“Yes!” she panted. “Spank me! Spank that ass!”

Doc gave up, grunting and slapping her again, his cock working deep inside of her.

“I’m fucking coming!” she wailed, her nipples grazing the bed with every thrust, her pussy on fire. “Oh now now now now now!”

She writhed on the mattress, her body finally giving in, letting her have the thing she’d been chasing for what felt like forever. Her pussy snapped closed around Doc’s dick like a vise, squeezing his length and making him cry out in astonishment. The walls of her pussy contracted like a snake swallowing its prey, again and again, and she thought he might be pulling out of her just to save himself from the force of it.

“I’m gonna come all over that hot fucking little tramp stamp,” he groaned, fisting his cock and pumping it violently against her ass. “Oh yeah! Yeah! You ready for it? You want that cum all over your ass?”

She shoved her hair out of her face, turning to look back at him over her shoulder. “Yes! Come on me! Come all over that hot little ass!”

That was enough to send him over, a wet spurt of cum shooting from the tip of his cock and spraying her back with heat. It splattered her tattoo like a white Rorschach on black ink and Carrie moaned, reaching back to rub the cream into her skin. Doc shuddered, giving her more to work with, his cum sticky and hot under her fingers.

Doc collapsed beside her on the bed as Carrie sank down to her belly, rolling gleefully back and forth on the covers, smiling to herself.

“Wow, what was that about?” Doc panted, his hand resting in the middle of his chest, which was still rising and falling very fast.

“Nothing,” she said. “I just wanted you.”

“Nuh-uh.” He looked over at her, doubtful. “Something got you all riled up. Was it that hot little tramp stamp on your back?”

He rolled toward her, dragging his finger over it, and laughed. “Your tattoo is rubbing off.”

“Oh damn.” She glanced over her shoulder, frowning. “He told me to use baby oil or vegetable oil to get it off. I guess cum works too.”

“I like it.” Doc traced the remaining lines. “Are you gonna get a real one?”

“I doubt it.” She made a face. “Wilson’s was hurting him pretty bad tonight. He asked me to rub stuff all over it.”

“Oh yeah?” Doc sat up on his elbow. “Is he what had you all horny tonight?”

“No.” The flush in her cheeks gave her away.

“Did you do something with him?” Doc asked slowly.

“No,” she insisted, feeling the flush in her cheeks deepening. “But what if I did? Why is it okay if I do something with Daphne, but not with Wilson?”

“I don’t know.” He looked blind-sided. “We hadn’t talked about that. I guess… it’s just… different.

“I don’t think it is.”

He blinked at her, finally asking, “Do you want to do something with Wilson?”

“No.” Carrie sighed, rolling over and grabbing a pillow to hold onto. “I mean, it might be fun, but I wouldn’t want to do it if you’re not okay with it. I honestly haven’t thought about sex with another man in… well, since I met you.”

“But you’re thinking about it now?”

“Not right now,” she replied, glancing back at him “But in general… a little. Are you mad?”

“No.” He slipped an arm around her, kissing her shoulder. “Hey, listen, not to change the subject, but I have bad news.”

She winced. “How bad?”

“I can’t make our flight.”

“What?” She turned in his arms, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“I have to work.” He sighed when her eyes starting filling with tears. She wiped at them angrily. “They put me on the schedule, even though I told them not to. What can I do?

“Well, what are we going to do?”

“I guess I’ll just have to fly in a few days later.”

She fought her tears again, but it was a losing battle. “What about me?”

“I hate to transfer two tickets if we don’t have to. It costs money and we’re short enough this month as it is.”

“So you want me to fly out without you and stay with your parents for three days before you even show up?” She hadn’t even wanted to go in the first place! This was unbelievable.

“Carrie, it’s Key West,” he pleaded. “You can laze around on the beach, go swimming, get a tan…”

“Okay okay, I get it.” She sat up and reached for her t-shirt, pulling it back on. “I should feel guilty because you’re here working while I’m off having fun.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Fine.” She relented, sticking her tongue out at him. “I’ll go and have fun.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, patting the bed beside him. “That’s all I can ask.”

“But try to hurry.” She snuggled up to him as he pulled the covers over them both. “I miss you.”

“Already?”

“Always.”

“Goodnight, baby.” He kissed her forehead as she drifted off to sleep, her cheek resting on his chest.

* * * *

The girls spent the morning shopping for last minute gifts and Carrie convinced Daphne to come back to her apartment to help her pack them up so she could ship them off to Florida.

“If they lose these packages, there goes Christmas…” Carrie sighed, taping up the last box.

“That’s why you buy insurance.”

Carrie made a face. “Yeah, but you can’t open insurance on Christmas morning.”

“Good point.” Daphne lifted a bottle to her friend’s glass. “Here, have more wine, you won’t think about it anymore.”

“Oh good, that will help me drown out the fact that I’m going to have to spend three days alone with Doc’s parents before he comes down.”

“Oh cry me a river!” Daphne laughed, rolling her eyes. “Three days without your husband on a beach in Florida?”

“Well when you put it that way…” Carrie put the last package in the box, glancing over at her friend. “Hey, so tell me, did anything happen between you and Wilson?”

“Nothing to write home about.” She shrugged, handing over the packing tape. “He stayed for a while when he dropped me off but nothing happened.”

Carrie ripped off a strip of tape. “Do you like him?”

“He’s cute.” Daphne smiled over the rim of her wine glass.

Carrie laughed, taping up the box. “You like him.”

“A little,” her friend admitted, giving her a sidelong look.

Carrie took the offered Sharpie, addressing the box to the timeshare in Florida. “Do you want to know something about him that I’m now pretty sure you don’t know?”

“What?” Daphne gave her a return address label to stick on.

“He has a tattoo…” Carrie paused, looking up at her for emphasis. “On his cock.”

Daphne’s jaw dropped, a quite satisfying response. “Are you serious?”

“Creepy or sexy?” she asked.

“Sexy.” The redhead nodded, sipping her wine. “Unless it’s something weird. Then it could be creepy.”

Carrie snorted. “See, I was hoping you could tell me.”

“Unfortunately, we didn’t get quite that far,” Daphne sighed, watching her put the last box with the others.

“Too bad.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Wait… quite that far. That means…” Carrie squealed, jumping up and down. “I knew it! I knew it!”

“So we made out a little.” Daphne tried to hid her smile. “Not far enough to see his cock tattoo, though, that’s for sure.”

Carrie grabbed her glass of wine, taking a gulp. “He offered to show it to me, but Doc stopped him.”

“Go figure.” Daphne laughed.

“Well, Doc is pretty open about me being with women, but men… not so much.” Carrie shrugged, carrying her wine into the living room.

Daphne trailed behind her. “What do you mean, he’s open?”

“We’ve always had this understanding, since college. Because, you know, I’m bi.” Carrie sat on the sofa, curling her feet under her, inwardly holding her breath. Revealing the fact that she was bi was the first step-and might be the last.

“You are?” Daphne sank down beside her, all wide-eyes.

“Well… yeah.” Carrie glanced up, trying to gauge her reaction.

“Interesting.” The response wasn’t much of a clue.

So she just decided to ask her directly. “Does that freak you out?”

“No. I just didn’t know.” Daphne ran a wet finger around the rim of her glass. “I mean, it’s not often you find someone else who’s bi.”

“You?” Carrie hid her smile behind her glass. Doc had been right after all.

Daphne nodded.

“Doc thought you were.”

“Did he?” Her friend laughed. “But you didn’t guess?”

“I suspected…”

“So wait…” Daphne leaned in, curious. “Have you been with a woman since you’ve been married?”

“No.” Carrie shook her head. “But Doc thinks I should.”

Daphne’s eyes narrowed and she frowned. “Is he one of those guys who wants you to be bi so he can cheat?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Carrie protested. “He doesn’t care if he’s not involved. He’s fine with me being with a girl all on my own.”

“Really?” Her friend looked doubtful. “But he wouldn’t mind if he was a part of things, of course.”

“Well yeah.” Carrie grinned. “I can’t blame him.”

“But not guys?”

She pursed her lips, remembering their conversation about Wilson. “Actually, we were just talking about that.”

“And what did you two decide?”

Carrie shrugged. “He’s not as okay with that.”

“Go figure.” Daphne snorted, glancing at her. “Let me guess… the conversation was about Wilson?”

Carrie blinked and swallowed, not sure if she should tell her friend the truth-but they always told each other the truth, right? Even when it hurt.

“Well… that’s where it started, I guess.”

“I can’t blame you.” Daphne’s finger traced round and round the rim of her glass. “He is fine. Prime threesome material.”

“Well, he’s not an option on the table,” Carrie reminded her, putting her hand on her friend’s forearm. Her skin was as soft as a baby’s.

“But I am.” Daphne spoke the words, matter-of-fact, sliding her hand down to press it into her friend’s. “Doc’s given you permission to have sex with me… if you want.”

“Yes.” Carrie’s heart beat so fast it felt like it might burst out of her chest. “If you want.”

Daphne linked her fingers with Carrie’s, smiling. “I wish I had a husband who was so open.”

“You don’t have a husband at all.” The words were out before she thought about them.

Daphne laughed. “Thanks for reminded me.”

“You know what I meant.” Carrie flushed, squeezing her hand. “You’re free to do whatever you want. With anyone.”

“I am.” She nodded, their eyes meeting.

“If you were me…” Carrie swallowed. “What would you do?”

Daphne said what she felt, as always. “I’d have an affair with my best friend.”

“You would.” Carrie couldn’t catch her breath.

“Hell yes,” she breathed.

The front door opened and both girls jumped, startled, as Doc came into the room, brushing snow off his shoulders.

“Hey girls! It’s snowing, but they say it’s supposed to warm up, so I doubt we’ll get a white Christmas. Not that we’ll be here anyway…” He slid his coat off, glancing at them sitting on the sofa, and then stopped, looking between them, from one to the other. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Carrie protested, trying not to sound breathless as Daphne unobtrusively disengaged her hand from hers.

“I was just getting ready to go.” Daphne stood, putting her wine on the coffee table. “Nice to see you, Doc. Have a good holiday, if I don’t see you.”

“You too,” he replied, watching as she slid on her coat and boots. He held the door for her as the women said goodbye, waving to each other before Daphne slipped out into the cold.

Doc looked after her, curious. “What was that about?”

“Nothing.” Carrie wasn’t in the habit of lying to her husband, but this time, this one time, she wanted to keep this to herself. At least, for a little while.

* * * *

“It’s about time you picked up the phone!” Carrie berated her friend over the wire, but she really felt like hugging her through it. “Where have you been for the past three days?”

“Home,” Daphne replied.

“I was getting ready to come make sure you were still alive,” Carrie scolded. “Why haven’t you picked up the phone? Did you get my messages?”

Of course she’d been worried about just this thing, that Daphne would be scared off, that it would ruin their friendship. And maybe it had, just the mention of it. The thought made Carrie feel physically ill. She’d been feeling that way for days.

“Yeah, I got them,” Daphne admitted. “I just… I guess I’ve just been feeling sorry for myself.”

Uh-oh. So this was it then.

“Why?”

“Oh I don’t know, because you’ve got Doc, and now you’ve got Wilson lusting after you, and you pretty much just get everything, and what do I get?” Daphne spat bitterly.

Wow.

“Wow.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

Carrie stared at the receiver for a moment. “What do you mean, I have Wilson lusting after me?”

“He came over here the other night and you were all he could talk about.”

“…What?”

“You heard me. You and your temporary tattoo. And it’s not that I blame him-you’re fucking gorgeous, and who wouldn’t lust after you? Hell, even I’ve thought about it. You know I have.”

“Daphne… stop.” Carrie really wished her friend was in front of her, that this conversation had taken place in person instead.

“What?”

She took a deep breath. “Listen, I called you for a reason.”

“What reason?”

Might as just well come out with it. “I wanted to invite you to Key West with me for Christmas.”

Daphne was quiet for a long time. “Are you serious?”

“I already bought the ticket so you better say yes.” She’d dipped into her own savings account, the one she’d had since before she and Doc were married.

“Wow.” That was all Daphne could seem to say. “Wow. I mean… wow.”

“Come on, it will be fun. Doc can’t come for a few days, he has to work. It will just be me and you. Well, and Doc’s parents. But we can go shopping and swimming and, hell, we can even swim with dolphins if you want, I don’t care-”

“Shut up,” Daphne replied, laughing. “You had me at shopping.”

“You’ll come?” Carrie’s heart swelled, filling her throat.

“Of course I’ll come! I told you I’d jump at the chance. I’m jumping! This is the best Christmas gift ever. I so need a break.”

Carrie smiled at the phone. “Me too.”

* * * *

“How many inches?” Carrie twisted the phone cord around her finger, glancing at Daphne sitting on the sofa in the living room. Her friend raised her eyebrows, grinning, and Carrie stifled a laugh. “Oh Nan, I’m so sorry. When do they think flights will be going out of Boston again?”

“So how many inches?” Daphne used her hands to denote the measurement. “Eight… ten…” The width between her hands got wider, and wider still. “Twelve?”

“Fifteen inches of snow is just crazy,” Carrie agreed, snickering at the shocked look on her friend’s face, the way her hands tried to take that huge measurement. “So they’re saying at least a day? Maybe two?”

“Did they get that kind of snow in Michigan?” Daphne called.

Carrie shook her head, answering Nan. “No, Doc said it was all rain when it went through. They got wet, but no snow… yep, he’ll be here… okay… and where is the Christmas tree stored?”

Daphne got up and wandered into the kitchen, pouring herself more wine while Nan peppered Carrie with more questions.

“Oh, Nan, it’s no problem, Daphne and I can decorate it before you all get here… yes, two boxes of presents were delivered yesterday, and we got another notice on the door to pick up some more today… oh, Daphne and I were shopping, so we were out… yes, the weather’s gorgeous… I know, I know… seventy-seven today…”

Carrie answered her mother-in-law, watching Daphne wander around the living room in her black bikini. They’d gone swimming after their shopping trip. Carrie’s hair was wet, her white bikini bottoms still damp.

“So?” Daphne looked at Carrie as she hung up the phone.”Looks like we’re decorating a Christmas tree?”

She nodded. “Looks that way.”

“Well, let’s get our tinsel on!”

The girls went into the storage closet under the stairs and got the artificial tree out, putting it together branch by branch. Nan’s taste in decorations tended toward the tasteful, so the lights were white and blue, as were all the ornaments. By the time they were stringing the white and silver garland, it was around dinner time.

“We’ll have it all decorated by the time Doc gets here,” Carrie said proudly, watching Daphne stretching to put the white star on the top of the tree. She was still in her bikini and it hugged her ass snugly, showing off her curves in all the right places.

“His flight comes in tonight?” Daphne stepped down from the stool and stood back, hands on her hips, red head cocked.

“Yep.”

Daphne picked up her glass of wine, taking a sip. They’d been drinking all afternoon. “Are we picking him up at the airport?”

“He’s taking a shuttle,” Carrie replied. “He doesn’t like me driving at night.”

“He’s so overprotective.” Her friend laughed, rolling her eyes. But then she smiled. “Must be nice.”

“Are you hungry?” Carrie asked. They’d gone shopping that morning to stock the refrigerator and it was full of food.

Daphne’s eyes lit up. “Do we have any of those little chocolate cashews?”

“Such a healthy dinner!” She got them from the top of the refrigerator, opening the canister and handing it over as she came into the living room.

Daphne popped one into her mouth, sucking happily. “God, these are so good.”

“It’s so weird.” Carrie looked up at the tree, shaking her head.

“I know,” Daphne agreed, laughing at the two of them decorating in bikinis. “It feels like Christmas in July.”

“I know what will make it feel like Christmas.”

Daphne watched Carrie as she stretched out on the white carpet. “What are you doing?”

“Come here.” She held a hand out, beckoning Daphne to join her as she wiggled her way under the Christmas tree.

“Weirdo.” Daphne snorted, but she got down on the floor, stretching out on her back beside her friend. The girls looked up through the branches at the white and blue lights reflecting off the silver and white garland. It was magical.

“Did you used to do this when you were a kid?” Daphne asked.

“Nah, Doc taught me,” Carrie said. “I was lucky if the foster family I was living with had a Christmas tree at all.”

“Damn, I thought my childhood sucked.” Daphne’s hand found hers and she squeezed. “At least my aunt always got me something for Christmas. Of course, she was a hoarder and agoraphobic, so we pretty much had a house full of presents all year round that she ordered from QVC that no one ever got. Except the mice.”

“Jeez.”

“Yeah, it was a fun childhood.” Daphne looked over at her and smiled. The lights shone on her skin, like blue and white tattoos. “But still probably more stable than yours, huh?”

“Probably, “Carrie admitted. She didn’t talk about her childhood much to anyone, even Doc.

“But you sure won the lottery when it came to a husband.”

“I did,” Carrie agreed, meeting her friend’s eyes. “I’m very blessed.”

“Maybe someday I’ll get lucky too.”

“I hope so. You deserve it.” Carrie stroked her friend’s hand, her wrist, her fingertips just lightly brushing. She felt Daphne shiver. “And in the meantime, maybe I can just share my blessings with you…”

Daphne smiled slowly, slyly. “I had a feeling you might have another agenda when you invited me here.”

“And you came anyway?” she asked, holding her breath.

“I came hoping.”

There was no room under the tree, but somehow they bridged the distance between them, their mouths meeting in a soft caress. The kiss was sweet and gentle and full of promise. They looked at each other under the twinkling lights of the tree and smiled, both of them knowing where things were going.

“I thought we’d get a little head start,” Daphne breathed.

Carrie smiled. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“I’ve got to get the salt water off my skin and out of my hair.” Daphne turned right at the end of the hall, into the bathroom, looking back over her shoulder at her, the freckles there so kissable it made Carrie’s lips twitch. “Wanna take a shower?”

It was a clear invitation and Carrie took it.

They undressed as Carrie turned on the shower, leaving their bikinis on the floor. Carrie snuck looks at her friend’s body as they busied themselves getting towels and checking the water temperature, pretending they weren’t about to do what they were both contemplating. Doc had been right, Daphne’s nipples were pink, but they weren’t like cherries at all. They were pale and flat, the areolas around them puffy. And Carrie had been right about her being a real redhead-her pubic hair was a dark, wiry auburn, neatly trimmed in a little landing strip.

“Oh god, that feels so good.” Daphne stepped into the hot shower, steam rising all around her, her head tilting back so she could wet down her red mane, washing her hair. Carrie stood watching, transfixed, as her friend reached for the soap, beginning with her breasts.

Daphne glanced her way, smiling coyly. “Aren’t you coming in?”

Carrie slipped into the shower, closing the privacy-glass door behind her. The water was warm and felt so good that she found herself moaning too, dipping her head under the shower head to get fully wet.

Daphne’s lips touched Carrie’s neck, her soapy hands moving over her friend’s shoulders and down her arms. She let Daphne run her hands over her body, closing her eyes and losing herself in the sensation. She could feel the press of her friend’s full breasts against her back, the curve and slope of her belly, her fingers brushing over Carrie’s nipples, making them instantly hard.

“Let me wash your hair.” Daphne squeeze shampoo into her hands and massaged Carrie’s scalp, washing the salt out, holding her under the needle-like spray until the water ran clean. She didn’t stop there, though, rubbing the bar of white, moisturizing soap over Carrie’s skin, starting in neutral territory, over her shoulders and down her arms, and then moving to more sensitive areas-her breasts, her belly, and finally, her pussy.

“Oh my god, it’s so smooth,” Daphne whispered, her eyes widening in surprise and delight as her soapy fingers parted Carrie’s pussy lips.

She smiled. “I waxed.”

“I just shave,” Daphne said apologetically, sounding regretful.

“It’s pretty.” Carrie didn’t employ her friend’s careful approach. She cupped Daphne’s mound with her hand, rocking her palm. The redhead moaned and opened her thighs a little wider, her mouth parting with pleasure. She was so kissable that Carrie couldn’t resist, pressing her lips to hers, tongue exploring. Their kiss went on and on, their soapy breasts pressed together, hopelessly soft, fingers probing and petting each other’s pussies.

“Let’s go to bed,” Daphne gasped when they parted, her eyes still half-closed. Carrie could feel the slick proof of her friend’s arousal on her fingers.

The girls got out, reaching for the fluffy white towels they’d left out, warm under the heat lamps overhead. Daphne sat at the vanity and squeezed the excess water out of her hair with her towel, reaching for the blow dryer. Carrie, watched, toweled herself off, seeing Daphne’s gaze on her in the mirror.

“Sorry, I have to dry it.” Daphne spoke over the hum of the hair dryer, the copper returning to her hair as it dried.

“That’s ok.” Carrie spread her towel out on the counter, sliding up to take a seat. She saw Daphne glance at her pussy, a puffy cleft between the swell of her thighs, and parted them a little, letting her see pink.

“Do you want to play with yourself?” Daphne’s fingers lightly stroked the smooth skin of Carrie’s mound. “I’d love to watch.”

She flushed, but she put one foot up on the counter, looking down between her own legs. Her pussy was pulsing, thick with excitement, and she used one finger to circle her clit. Daphne leaned in closer to watch, the blow dryer still pointed toward her red head but all but forgotten as she watched her friend masturbate.

Daphne’s free hand went between her own legs, parting her own pussy lips. She had shaved her labia, leaving just that copper landing strip above. The girls touched themselves, watching each other, and Carrie saw that her friend’s nipples grew darker as they got hard, poking out a little. The sight made her shaky with excitement.

“Oh hell, it’s dry enough,” Daphne announced, shaking her hair out and turning the blow dryer off, tossing it on the counter, leaning in to bury her face in her friend’s pussy.

“Oh!” Carrie cried out in surprise but Daphne didn’t hesitate or pull back, instead using her hands to spread her thighs wider, putting Carrie’s other foot up on the counter too. “Oh my god, that feels soooo good.”

Carrie glanced over, seeing the abandoned hair dryer, and grinned. “Want me to finish for you?”

She grabbed it, flipping the switch, and pointed it down at her friend’s head. The heat blasted over her pussy as well as Daphne’s ginger tresses. Carrie alternated between drying her own hair and her friend’s, the heat of the blow dryer nothing compared to the fire between her legs.

“Oh yes,” she gasped, dropping the hair dryer onto the counter, barely remembering to turn it off. “Please, don’t stop. Right there on my clit. You’re going to make me come so fast!”

Daphne seemed to know exactly what she was doing, her tongue focused on Carrie’s clit with lascivious precision. Her tongue lapped over and over, her persistence admirable. Carrie moaned and grabbed her knees, giving her more of her pussy, spreading wide, wider, widest, back arched, mouth twisted with pleasure.

“Gonna come!” she gasped and Daphne went from lick to suck, sending her flying, the rock of her wanton hips almost bucking her off the counter with her orgasm.

“Oh my god,” Daphne whispered, feathering kisses between Carrie’s legs, over her mound and thighs. “Your pussy tastes so good. It’s so smoooooth.” She kissed it again, trying to suck her little clit back into her mouth, but Carrie squealed in protest, sliding fully off the counter.

“Come on.” Carrie held out her hand.

“Your room or mine?”

“Mine’s closer.” Carrie grinned back over her shoulder. “And there’s a bigger bed. Besides, that’s where we’ll be when Doc gets here anyway.”

“You really think he’ll be okay with this?” Daphne crawled up onto the bed. Carrie watched the swing of her friend’s hips as she moved, seeing a flash of pink between her thighs.

“Trust me,” Carrie replied, climbing up beside her. “It will be the best Christmas present he ever got.

They rolled toward each other on the bed, limbs twining, tongues meshing, hips shifting on the mattress as if the heat of their pussies could melt into one another. Carrie had forgotten, oh she had forgotten everything-the swell of a woman’s breast in her hand, the heat of a squishy wet pussy straddling her thigh, the way a woman tasted and smelled, so different from a man. How had she forgotten? How had she ever lived without it?

“Are you sure this is okay?” Daphne whispered, dipping her head down to take one of Carrie’s dark nipples between her lips.

“More than okay.” Carrie reassured her, hands stroking the redhead’s slightly damp mass of hair, admiring the smattering of freckles over her friend’s pert nose. “Oh yes, suck it like that.”

Daphne bathed her nipple in saliva, leaving shining trails from one to the other in the lamp light. Carrie squirmed on the bed, her pussy ready again, aching for more, but she was far more eager to taste Daphne’s juices on her tongue.

“I think it’s your turn,” Carrie admonished, rolling her friend to her back, nuzzling her neck, licking her collarbone, tracing down her clavicle toward her breastbone. Daphne didn’t protest-her greedy fingers were already buried between her own thighs, touching herself.

Carrie stopped at Daphne’s breasts, blowing gently over her nipples, watching the skin around them pucker, her flat nipples rising in response, turning a darker pink. Daphne moaned when Carrie licked one, rolling her tongue around and around, loving the feel of it hardening under her tongue’s basting. Daphne’s fingers moved faster between her legs.

“Let me do that.” Carrie moved down, spreading her friend’s creamy thighs. They were as soft as rose petals under her hands, her pussy lips shaved neatly, leaving the pink of her inner lips exposed. They were fat and protruding, asking to be licked, and Carrie obliged, dipping her tongue in for the first time.

“Mmmmm!” Daphne rolled her hips up, her belly almost concave as she rocked, her hands moving up over the curving slope of her stomach to cup her own breasts. They were almost as big as Carrie’s, at least a C-cup, maybe a D, definitely more than a handful. Carrie glanced up to see them rising up like hills with pink nippled peaks.

“Put your fingers in me,” Daphne instructed as Carrie traced the labyrinth of hot, pink flesh under her tongue, looking for the center. “Fuck me too. I love that.”

Carrie found her entrance, probing gently, parting her, but Daphne wasn’t having that. She bucked her hips, shoving Carrie’s fingers in deep, moaning loudly. The taste of her was making Carrie dizzy with longing, so fucking sweet and musky in her mouth, her pussy responsive under her tongue, wiry red hair tickling her nose. She didn’t ever want to stop licking her, tasting her, exploring every crevice, but Daphne was too eager for release.

“Please!” Daphne begged, panting with passion, her pussy swollen and hot under Carrie’s tongue, her muscles clamping down on her fingers. “Come on! Make me come! Make me come!”

She couldn’t resist her friend’s plea, fastening her mouth over her mound and focusing her attention on her clit as she fingered her pussy fast and hard. Daphne squeezed and tugged and twisted her own nipples until they were red and raw, a low, guttural sound building in her throat.

“Ohhhhhhhhh!” Daphne cried, ass clenching, hips shuddering, thighs quivering. She was almost there, Carrie could feel it, she could taste it, and she wanted nothing more than to take her there. “Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Yes! Fuck me! I’m coming! Coming!”

And she was, drowning Carrie in her juices, her cunt snapping shut on her fingers again and again, the muscles there so tight around her fingers it almost hurt-she couldn’t even imagine how good it would feel around a man’s cock. Daphne’s moans tapered off to whimpers as Carrie slowly withdrew her sticky fingers, licking them clean before climbing up next to her friend on the bed.

“Sleepy,” Daphne murmured, her eyes still closed, a slow smile on her face.

Carrie pulled the covers over them both. “Probably too much sun this afternoon.”

“Let’s take a nap until dinner.” Daphne rolled toward her so they were belly to belly, both of them smiling, satisfied.

“Then I have an idea,” Carrie said. “Let’s surprise Doc at the door.”

“Sounds interesting.” Daphne opened one eye, then closed it again. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I still have to wrap a few presents, so I packed some wrapping paper and ribbons…”

Daphne giggled, hugging her. “You have a dirty, evil mind. I love it!”

* * * *

The girls dissolved into a fit of giggles at the door, fumbling with the deadbolt as Doc continued to knock.

“C’mon, Carrie, it’s me!” he called, pounding the door with his fist. “Don’t make me get out my keys…”

Carrie winked at Daphne as she turned the lock and slowly swung the door wide. He saw Daphne first, wearing a wide, red velvet ribbon like a sash, a loopy bow attached, falling to her hip. She was completely nude.

“Hey, what’s up, Doc?” Daphne stood with her hands on her hips.

“Uh… wow… actually… my cock.” Doc gulped, glancing at his wife as she slipped an arm around Daphne’s waist. She wasn’t wearing anything at all-not even a ribbon or a bow. “All of a sudden.”

Carrie turned, capturing Daphne’s lips with hers, their mouths slanting, tongues playing right out in the open. Carrie heard the door swing shut as Doc stepped fully into the entryway.

“What…” Doc’s voice was faint. “What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like?” Daphne’s blue eyes flashed mischievously, cupping his wife’s breast in her hand. “Want to join us?”

“Does Santa wear a red suit and say ‘ho-ho-ho?’” He dropped his suitcase and his jaw as they both went to their knees in front of him. Carrie unzipped his jeans and Daphne pulled them down, but they both got to his cock at the same time, and he’d spoken the truth-he was hard. Invitingly hard.

“Here,” Carrie offered, licking her lips but pointing his cock toward her friend’s waiting mouth. “You first.”

Daphne took her gift, letting Carrie guide his cock into her mouth, both women looking up at Doc, who was gazing down at them with a dazed expression on his face, like he’d just walked into a dream-a really, really good dream.

“So big and hard,” Daphne purred, tonguing the tip, licking Carrie’s fingers as she took him fully into her mouth. Doc groaned as Carrie leaned in, joining her friend, their tongues meeting over the head of his dick, fighting for it.

“We need to get to a bed before I die,” Doc protested.

The girls laughed and then it was a race up the stairs, both of them leaving Doc struggling with his pants down around his knees at the front door. By the time he got into the bedroom, both of the women were kissing on the bed, the red ribbon and bow hung over the bedpost.

“Oh wow.” He stopped in the doorway, his pants up now, but still undone. They looked up at him, blonde and red hair falling over their breasts. He waved them on, shaking his head. “Please, don’t let me interrupt!”

Carrie smiled at her husband before turning her attention back to Daphne, licking her nipples hard, showing him. Doc slipped his jeans and boxers down again, circling around the bed, his cock already in his fist as he watched his wife sliding down to lick her friend’s pussy.

“Come here,” Daphne urged, reaching for Doc. He let her grab his cock, tugging him onto the edge of the bed. “Oh god, I can’t wait to fuck you.”

“You want that big hard cock?” Carrie teased, her tongue making circles around Daphne’s clit. “He’s going to fuck you so good.”

Doc groaned at her words, cupping Daphne’s breast in his hand as she pumped him closer and closer to her mouth. She licked her lips, looking up into his eyes as his fingers dipped low on her belly, walking that line of red hair toward her pussy.

“She’s wet for you,” Carrie assured him, watching as her husband slipped his fingers past Daphne’s threshold, testing the waters. She knew he wanted his cock there, and she wanted to watch him fuck her too.

“Can I have her?” Doc asked her permission, holding his breath, and Carrie nodded, rolling to the side.

“I want you to,” she whispered, crawling up to kiss her friend, feeling Daphne’s body tense with anticipation. “I want to watch.”

Doc moved between Daphne’s thighs, parting them with his own, rubbing his cock up through her slit. His gaze was hungry, full of longing, but he glanced again at his wife for reassurance.

“Do it, baby,” Carrie urged. “Put it in her. Tell me how it feels.”

Doc swallowed, shifting his hips forward and sliding slowly into Daphne’s waiting pussy.

“Ohhhhh,” Daphne moaned, turning her face toward Carrie, her eyes widening and then half-closing at the sensation. “Oh my god, he feels so good!”

“Doesn’t he?” Carrie murmured, kissing her friend’s cheek, stroking her breast, her areolas even more puffy than usual, her nipples rising, turning dark pink. She glanced up at her husband, who bit his lip and held still, thighs trembling. “How good does she feel, baby?”

“Not as good as you.” He winked, slowly beginning to move inside of her. “But ohhhh… fuck… almost!”

“Yessss!” Daphne rolled her hips up to meet his cock, fucking him back. “Oh god, it’s been so fucking long since I had a nice hard dick…”

“Mmmm.” Carrie slid her tongue over Daphne’s nipple, making her moan even louder. She couldn’t take her eyes off her husband’s cock, the length of him disappearing again and again into her friend’s wet pussy.

“You okay?” Daphne bit her lip and looked at Carrie.

She nodded, kissing her in response, feeling Doc’s hand moving over her thigh, up between her legs. She couldn’t believe how okay she really was. It was more than okay-it was more than exciting. It felt right, somehow, as if some circuit had been completed between them.

“I want to taste you.” Daphne cupped her friend’s breast, tweaking her nipple. “Come in my mouth while he fucks me. Please. Please, come sit on my face.”

She couldn’t resist. Doc’s eyes brightened as he watched his wife straddle Daphne’s face, the redhead wrapping her arms around her hips, pulling her pussy to her mouth. Carrie moaned softly, looking at her husband, seeing his cock disappearing into Daphne’s pink flesh, and nearly came instantly.

“Hold me,” she whispered, leaning forward, feeling his arms go around her, his mouth slanting across hers. They kissed as Doc fucked her best friend, rocking them all on the bed, and Daphne’s tongue madly worked her little clit, her guttural moans filling the room with every deep thrust.

“Oh baby, she feels so good,” Doc groaned, hips pumping faster, harder. Carrie wrapped her arms around his neck, grinding her own hips in rhythm, mashing her pussy against Daphne’s eager tongue.

“Does she have a nice, tight little pussy?” Carrie asked, feeling him shudder at her words. “You should taste her, Doc. She’s soooo sweet.”

He groaned, his eyes meeting hers. “Lick her. Do it. Now.”

“Mmmmmm!” Daphne managed as Carrie sank down to take her friend’s clit between her lips.

Doc grabbed Daphne’s long legs, pushing them wide and back, giving Carrie lots of room. She stretched her tongue out, teasing her friend’s clit, nudging it to and fro, hearing her moan and lick and suck at Carrie’s pussy with even more fervor. Doc was fucking her hard now, his face a mask of torture, his expression almost grim, and she knew he was holding back.

“I want your come,” Carrie demanded, grabbing his thighs, her nails digging in. “Come all over her cunt and let me lick it off, baby!”

“Oh fuck,” Doc whispered, his cock squelching in the swelter of Daphne’s dewy little pussy. “I’m gonna do it for you. All for you, baby. Are you ready?”

“Yes!” Carrie hissed, using her fingers instead of her tongue on Daphne’s clit now, watching her husband’s cock slamming roughly into her flesh. “Yes! Give it to me! Now! Now, Doc, now!”

He pulled out, grabbing his cock in his fist and aiming, hitting her cheek with the first jet of his cum. Carrie gasped, feeling it dripping down her face as he shuddered and thrust into his hand, his cock a white-hot fountain of cum, exploding over Daphne’s quivering pussy. He gave a low growl, his hips pumping faster with each surge, leaving thick masses of cum dripping down her cleft.

“Lick it off,” Doc demanded, but Carrie already was, lapping up the peppery taste of it, swallowing, and going back for more. Daphne gasped and bucked, her thighs trembling, but she didn’t move her mouth from Carrie’s clit, determined to take her to climax.

And she was close, so very close.

“Oh god,” Doc groaned.

Watching his wife eat his cum from Daphne’s wet cunt, he slid his still-hard cock back into it, and both women shuddered, unable to hold back anymore. For Daphne, it was the feel of him sliding deep into her pussy, and for Carrie, it was the sight of it. The moment was like a long, sustained high note, and they both rode the wave for a long time, whimpering and writhing and pulsing with pleasure.

“Am I dreaming?” Doc wondered out loud as the girls re-situated themselves on the bed, kissing and touching in the aftermath of their mutual climax.

“Welcome to your vacation,” Daphne teased, glancing up at him still kneeling on the bed, his cock refusing to go hard soft at the sight of them together.

Carrie looked up at her husband with all the love she had for him in her eyes, giving him back the gift he had given her.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

* * * *

Carrie was having the sexiest dream. Daphne was melting like a peach in her mouth and Doc was pounding her from behind, the headboard banging against the wall with every thrust, punctuating their fuck.

BANG-BANG-BANG

She was almost to her peak, her pussy spasming, juicy and wet, Doc driving into her, relentless…

BANG-BANG — BANG

She woke up coming, her orgasm throbbing her awake, finding Daphne asleep between them, Doc snoring on her other side, an arm thrown over the redhead’s hip.

BANG-BANG-BANG

That’s when she realized the banging was real-it was the front door.

“Fuck.” She swore softly, tearing off the covers and bolting out of bed.

Doc sat up, startled. “What?”

“The door!” Carrie mock-whispered over Daphne’s still-sleeping head, pulling on her robe and rushing toward the banging sound. He was pulling on his boxers, one step behind her down the stairs. “Doc, is it your parents?”

“Carrie, wait!” he called, trying to catch up, but she had her hand on the doorknob before he could say anything, unlocking the deadbolt and pulling it open.

She couldn’t have been more surprised to find Wilson standing there, a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder and a grin on his face.

“Wilson?” She blinked. “What are you… doing… here…?” She hesitated, understanding slowly dawning as she glanced back at Doc, seeing his sheepish grin.

He wrapped his arms around her, winking conspiratorially at Wilson. “Merry Christmas.”

* * * *

“Where is he going to sleep?” Carrie wondered out loud, watching as Wilson flicked water at Daphne, both of them laughing and jumping waves in the surf.

“I thought he’d be in the extra bedroom,” Doc tilted back a bottle of Coors and grinned at her. “When he wasn’t in our bed.”

“But Daphne’s in there.” She watched the two of them diving under the waves. “I guess he’ll have to sleep on the pull-out sofa.”

Doc shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll work it out.”

She gave him a side-long look. “So your plan was for him to… what… sleep with me?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.” He put his beer on the table between them.

“Oh Doc.” She leaned over and kissed him. “You really would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

He grabbed her chair, pulling it closer and kissing her again. “Anything at all.”

“The thing is…” She put her arms around his neck, breathing in the scent of him. “Turns out, I didn’t want another man.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “You didn’t?”

“No… you were right.” She laughed at his mock-shocked expression, eyes wide, jaw dropped. “I wanted another woman.”

“I knew it.” He reached over, pulling her into his lap, his hand moving over the cup of her white bikini, thumbing her nipple and making her shiver.

“And you,” she whispered, wiggling in his lap. “Always you. Forever you.”

“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” He slid an arm around her waist, his other hand creeping down the back of her bikini bottoms. “I’m like a fungus. I grow on you. And cling… and cling…”

He groped her breast, her ass, her pussy.

“Creep!” She laughed, trying to slap his hands away.

“But now we have a bit of a dilemma, you know.” He nuzzled her neck, kissing the tops of her breasts, his breath warm on her skin.

“What’s that?”

“I think Wilson still wants to sleep with you.”

She raised her head, glancing toward the beach. Daphne was squealing, trying to get away from him in the water, laughing and splashing.

“It might be fun.” She looked at Doc and smiled. “Just this once…”

“I did go through all the work of talking him into it and everything.” Doc suppressed a smile.

She snorted. “Well, we wouldn’t want to let all your hard work go to waste, now would we?”

“My parents’ flight arrives tonight around nine,” he reminded her, sliding a hand between her legs.

“Then I guess we better take advantage of the time we have.”

Carrie stood, reaching back and undoing her bikini top, letting it fall. Doc’s eyes brightened as it dropped to the sand, watching as she slid her bikini bottoms off too. It was mid-day, warm and bright as she made her way toward the water, past the blankets they’d set out so they could soak up the Florida sunshine.

“Hey!” Wilson glanced at her as she approached the shoreline, and then he did a double-take, his eyes widening at the sight of her completely nude. “Wow… um… wow…”

“Hey Daph,” Carrie called to her friend, who turned to see, her eyes widening. “Want to play a game?”

Her friend snorted, looking at Wilson’s stunned expression. “What game?”

“How about hide the flashlight?”

Daphne cracked up, wading out of the water, shaking her head. “I think you mean the salami.”

“A little mattress dancing?” Carrie wiggled her hips, watching the water sheeting off her friend’s body. She was already reaching for the tie on her bikini top.

“How about riding the hobby horse?” Daphne let her top fall to the sand. Wilson’s jaw dropped another full inch.

Carrie helped her with her bikini bottoms, their breasts rubbing together. “Sinking the sub?”

“Bouncing the pogo stick?” Wilson offered, already halfway out of the water, watching as the girls kissed, cupping each other’s breasts, their bodies as close as they could get them.

“How about bumping fuzzies?” Daphne pushed her hips forward, trying to make their pussies kiss.

Carrie smiled. “Mine’s not fuzzy.”

“Wilson, don’t you want to play?” Daphne turned to look at him.

He blinked. “Ummm.”

“Come on.” Carrie winked, taking her friend’s hand and pulling her back up the beach. “We’ll be in the house. I know Doc definitely wants to play.”

“Did you give him a heart attack?” Doc laughed as the girls passed him, heading into the house.

“Not yet.” Daphne winked, crooking her finger at him. “Coming?”

“Not yet,” Doc quipped, but he followed them in.

Wilson burst into the living room through the sliding glass door, close on their heels and a little out of breath from running through the sand. “So… how do we play?”

The women looked at him and then at each other, giggling.

“Well, if you don’t know…” Daphne teased.

“I mean, who gets who…” He glanced around the circle they made, standing there on the carpet.

“Yes,” Carrie grinned.

“Where?” Doc wondered out loud, glancing at the sofa.

“Your parents have a king size…” Carrie suggested.

Doc groaned. “We’re washing the sheets.”

“We have time,” she assured him, still leading Daphne by the hand as she headed up the stairs.

They found it easy to lure the two men in, starting where they always did, the two girls together, crawling onto the bed and kissing each other into submission, their caresses growing more heated with every breathless minute. The guys watched, eyes glazed, rubbing the crotch of their suits-until Carrie remembered.

“Wilson’s got a tattoo on his cock,” she whispered to Daphne.

“That’s right!” Her head came up from suckling Carrie’s nipple, eyes bright. “Oh, let’s see. What is it?”

Both of them scrambled to the edge of the bed where Wilson stood, adjusting the sizable bulge in his shorts. They tried to get them down, but he stopped them, taking a step back, a grin on his face.

“If I show you, then what?”

“Then we suck it,” Daphne assured him.

“And fuck it,” Carrie added.

Wilson took a step forward, then another, close enough for them to touch. Both women grabbed for his shorts, pulling them down. His cock sprang free, a glorious specimen, a curving black tribal tattoo weaving its way from the base to the ridge of the head. Carrie’s mouth watered at the sight of it and Daphne whimpered.

“Do I gotta get a tattoo?” Doc scowled and his wife laughed, turning over onto her back and hanging her head off the end of the bed, watching out of the corner of her eye as Daphne took Wilson’s cock into her mouth.

“Bring that bad boy here, baby.”

Doc slowly fed his cock between his wife’s lips, moaning at how deep he could go with her in that position. Daphne took her cue from Carrie, flipping over onto her back too and swallowing Wilson’s dick. Carrie felt a masculine hand on her breast, another touching her pussy, but she couldn’t tell whose it was, not in that position. She found she liked being pawed anonymously that way. It made her nipples stand up and her pussy throb.

“Doc,” she gasped, taking him out of her mouth. “I’m getting dizzy.”

It was true-all the blood was rushing to her head. He moved around her, reclining on the bed, his cock pointing toward the ceiling.

“Come here.” Doc reached for her. “I want to feed your kitty.”

Carrie giggled, glancing over at Daphne and Wilson. She was kneeling up on the bed and they were kissing, lost in their own world together.

“This kitty?” She straddled her husband, reaching down to grab his length. God, she loved his cock. Wilson’s was nice-the tattoo was definitely sexy-but she wouldn’t trade Doc for anyone.

“That’s my pretty pussy.” Doc rolled his hips up and found her.

Carrie gasped in surprise at his aim and then moaned at the feel of him filling her, his hands on her hips, holding her there. She glanced over as Daphne stretched out beside them on the bed, Wilson kneeling up between her thighs. Their eyes met and Daphne smiled.

“So naughty.” Daphne’s hand reached between her legs, stroking Wilson’s cock against her wetness. “It’s like making out in your parents’ basement when they’re not home.”

Doc grinned. “Or fucking on your parents’ bed in their time share.”

“Or that.” Daphne giggled, but then her attention shifted back to Wilson as he slid inside of her. Carrie watched, her breath coming faster, as Wilson began to fuck her friend, his tattooed cock slick and shiny with her juices.

“Oh yes!” Daphne grabbed onto his plunging hips. “Oh fuck, that’s good!”

Wilson leaned in, capturing her mouth in a kiss, and Carrie watched her take out his ponytail, his dark, wet hair spreading over his well-defined shoulders.

“Quite a show, isn’t it?” Doc watched them too. They were completely lost in each other, their kiss melding with their fuck, both of them panting and rutting, shaking the mattress.

“Fucking hot.” She could feel how hard Doc was inside of her, his cock swollen and throbbing.

Daphne’s nails dug into Wilson’s tattooed back, her heels boring into his thighs, her cries filling the room. Carrie watched, holding her breath, feeling her pussy juices dripping down her husband’s cock. She knew if she moved, even a little, she would come, and she didn’t want to. Not yet.

“Oh baby, yes,” Daphne whispered into his ear. “Fuck me good! Do it hard!”

Wilson groaned, giving her what she wanted, the headboard banging against the wall with each thrust. Doc’s fingers dug into his wife’s hips and she moaned when she felt him beginning to move in her, unable to resist, their breath coming almost as fast as the couple beside them.

Daphne’s eyes were half-closed but Carrie saw her glance over at them, coming back to where she was, at least a little. She nudged Wilson, her breath hot and fast, squeezing him with her thighs, slowing him with her hips.

“Maybe we should switch,” she murmured, meeting his eyes.

Wilson looked over at the couple beside him and then back to her. “Do you want to?”

“I want to see you fuck Carrie.” Daphne licked her lips, eyes brightening. “Do it from behind.”

Doc’s hands tightened on his wife’s hips, but he let her go when she crawled off him, putting her bottom up in the air and glancing back as Wilson positioned himself between her thighs. It was strange and exciting to see him poised behind her that way.

“You sure, man?” Wilson looked over at Doc, whose cock was still wet with his wife’s juices.

“Yeah.” Doc rolled onto his elbow to watch. “Go ahead.”

“Do it.” Carrie’s pussy seized in anticipation, aching to feel him fill her. “Fuck me!”

Wilson groaned at her words, sliding his cock up and down her slit, glancing down as Daphne sat up on her elbows to watch. Carrie looked into her friend’s eyes and saw the excitement there.

“Isn’t he good?” Daphne whispered, her eyes bright.

“Oh god,” Carrie cried as he shoved into her, so different from Doc, his cock sliding in at an angle, hitting all sorts of new spots inside of her. “Oh my god!”

“Take that cock, baby,” Doc urged beside her, his hand cupping her swaying breast, tweaking her nipple. “Take it!”

“Oh Carrie, you’re so wet,” Wilson gasped, his hips bucking against hers. “Oh fuck…”

Daphne maneuvered on the bed, her fingers working in her pussy, clearly missing Wilson’s cock, but the excitement in her eyes was unmistakable. Carrie wiggled around on the bed, taking Wilson with her, positioning herself between Daphne’s thighs.

“Yes!” Daphne cried as if her friend had read her mind, looking down as Carrie buried her face between her legs, Wilson’s cock pounding them both now, moving Carrie’s mouth on Daphne’s pussy with every thrust. “Oh sweetie, I love your tongue so much. Lick it! Lick me!”

Carrie heard Wilson’s low growl at their words and knew they must be quite a sight, her blonde head buried in the redhead’s cunt, but then things got even more interesting and complicated, Daphne urging Doc over, grabbing his cock in her hand. Doc knelt up on the bed beside her, letting Daphne take him between her lips, feeding her his length.

“Oh yeah,” Doc moaned, watching his wife lick the redhead’s pussy. “Suck it, honey. Nice and deep. Oh what a hot little mouth you have…”

Daphne whimpered in response, her eyes closing with pleasure as Carrie teased her clit with her tongue. Doc slowly fucked her mouth, watching his wife get fucked by his friend, her blonde head buried between Daphne’s slender, creamy thighs.

“Wilson!” Carrie cried out, her mouth unfastened from the sticky lava of Daphne’s pussy. “Oh! Fuck! Baby!” She looked up at Doc, almost as if for permission. “Oh god, he’s going to make me come! Doc! Ohhh!”

Doc nodded, his eyes on hers. “Come for me,” he told her. “Come all over his hard fucking dick.”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” She moaned and writhed and arched, meeting Wilson’s hard, wild thrusts, her pussy beginning to spasm violently, the sensation almost more than she could bear. She felt Daphne’s fingers in her hair, stroking her, Doc’s large hand cupping her breast, squeezing, kneading her flesh, and the pounding of Wilson’s gorgeous, tattooed cock taking her to the edge of bliss and beyond.

“Oh my god!” She collapsed on the bed, resting her cheek against Daphne’s thigh.

“My turn,” Doc teased, making Carrie glance up at him and whimper.

Daphne laughed. “Are we switching back?”

“Not quite yet.” Doc nudged his wife aside and positioning himself between Daphne’s legs. “I want your tight little pussy first.”

Daphne moaned, taking his full length in one deep thrust. Carrie watched, breathless, her pussy still throbbing from her own climax, as her husband fucked Daphne. She felt Wilson’s weight beside her on the bed and she turned to him, smiling, almost shy now, even though just moments before he’d made her come so hard her ears were ringing.

“That was yummy.” She glanced down at his cock, seeing it pulsing against his thigh. “Mmmm. Now I wanna taste.”

“Oh god.” Wilson rolled to his back as she wiggled herself between his thighs, beginning to lick him clean. He was coated with her from base to tip and Carrie found herself tracing the lines of his tattoo up to the ridge again and again.

“Please,” he whispered, his hand in her hair. “Carrie, please. Suck it.”

She took him fully into her mouth, slowly swallowing his length, hearing his groan. Beside them, Daphne had rolled Doc to his back and was riding him, rolling her hips forward and back, working his cock deep inside. His hands gripped her hips so hard his knuckles were white, his eyes half-closed, fighting some internal battle.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” Wilson gasped, looking up at Daphne. She smiled at him, reaching out, and their palms touched, fingers entwined.

Carrie cupped his balls in her hand, rolling them gently as she sucked him, drawing his attention back to what she was doing. He looked down at her and moaned, shaking his head.

“And you’re so fucking gorgeous, it hurts.” His hips thrust up all on their own, aiming for the back of her throat.

Doc chuckled, glancing over at his friend. “How lucky are we?”

“I think we won the sex lottery,” Wilson exclaimed, watching his friend’s wife swallow the length of his cock.

Carrie smiled, looking up at Daphne, and she nodded, understanding her look, seeing how her friend’s hand clasped Wilson’s, bridging the distance between them.

“Come here, Daph.” Carrie took his tattooed cock out of her mouth. “Come fuck him.”

The redhead leaned over and kissed Doc, nice and slow, before sliding up his length and coming to straddle Wilson. He took charge easily, guiding her hips, letting Carrie aim his cock between her swollen pussy lips. Carrie glanced over at Doc, seeing him smiling.

Daphne cried out when he entered her, even though she’d been expecting it. Carrie watched her settle into the saddle of Wilson’s hips, her friend’s fiery pubic hair a contrast to Wilson’s dark nest. They were completely joined, whole, even their hands entwined, palm to palm, as they began to rock, their hips moving all on their own.

“Come here, minx.” Doc slapped Carrie’s behind, sticking up in the air as she leaned over to watch Wilson fuck her friend. “I want my wife.”

“You always had me.” She went to him, climbing up and sliding down his pole, already slick with Daphne’s pussy juices, making it all the more sweet.

“Mmmmmm, now that’s my girl.” Doc’s thumbs settled into the indents of her hipbones, looking up at her and smiling. Beside them, Daphne and Wilson were already rocking the bed, their breath coming in short, harsh pants.

“Nice and easy.” Carrie rolled her hips in circles.

“Look.” Doc glanced over, seeing Daphne riding Wilson, her hips making the same motion. They were sexy as hell, Carrie had to admit, the two of them grinding and moaning and clinging to each other, but there was something else, and Doc felt it too. They’d brought the two of them here for Christmas, intending to give each other a gift, and instead had somehow given their friends a gift instead.

“I know.” Carrie smiled, leaning over to kiss her husband. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He kissed her back. “Now fuck me until I come up inside your hot little cunt so hard you can taste it.”

Carrie moaned, his tongue sucking at hers as he began to thrust, driving her up on the bed. He fucked her hard, so hard it almost hurt, but she didn’t care. Carrie gasped when Doc rolled her to her back and she saw that the couple beside them had changed position, Wilson shoving his cock in hard and deep.

“Fuck me,” Daphne begged, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her legs wrapped around his waist. “Do it! Oh fuck! Fuck me hard! Ohhhh!”

Carrie knew the sweet sound of her friend’s impending orgasm, feeling her own beginning to rise. She glanced up at Wilson, his eyes half-closed, sweat sheening the tattoos on his chest, his dark hair falling like a curtain, and then she looked at Doc, his eyes on her and her alone.

“Come on, baby,” Carrie urged, reaching down to feel his cock going into her, needing to touch that place where they were joined. “Make me come all over that big, hard dick.”

Doc took the challenge, spreading her thighs wider with his, the friction building between them, the heat unbearable. She rubbed the ridge of her clit, back and forth, circling, teasing, wanting it and not, loving that feeling of hovering just at the edge.

“Ohhhhh fuck, Daphne, your pussy is so fucking good!” Wilson cried, the whole mattress shaking with his thrusts. “Uh! Uh! Uhhhhhhh!”

Carrie reached for Doc, pulling her to him, taking all of his weight, wrapping herself around him and clinging like a vine. She couldn’t get close enough, hearing her friend’s whimpers and cries beside her, the room filled with the sounds and scent of their fucking.

“Baby,” Doc panted, his cock swelling, the sights and sounds and smells of it too much for him, too much for her too.

“Yes!” She let him fuck her, fill her, take her. “Do it! Come! Come! Ohhhhh fuck! I’m gonna come!”

Doc growled and shuddered into her, their bodies slick and sliding together as they both came, Carrie arching and writhing beneath him, Doc rutting and grunting on top of her, both of them reaching their pinnacle together, a mountain climbed and conquered, the free-fall off the other side a long, sweet ride down into nothing and everything all at once.

Carrie kissed his sweaty neck as he collapsed onto her, smiling dreamily up at the ceiling. Beside her, Wilson and Daphne were whispering and giggling and the sound was more sweet music to her ears.

“We are so going to have to wash these sheets,” Doc said, laughing.

“Shh.” Carrie nudged him, looking over at the couple beside them, cuddled together in an almost visible afterglow. “Look.”

Doc did and grinned. “I guess this solves the problem of where he’s going to sleep tonight.”

“I think it solves a lot of problems,” Carrie agreed, kissing her husband quiet.

* * * *

Nan stood on a kitchen chair, tacking up the mistletoe in the doorway, while her husband, Chuck, poured himself another egg nog.

“You’re sure it’s okay, having all these people here?” Carrie held the chair for her mother-in-law and glanced into the living room where Wilson and Daphne were talking on the couch. Doc winked and tipped back his beer from a chair across the room, dropping her a wink.

“Don’t be silly.” Nan waved her concern away. “I told you before, when you asked me if your friend could come. The more the merrier!”

“That’s very nice,” Carrie complimented her mother-in-law’s placement of the mistletoe.

“It’s not Christmas without mistletoe.” Nan climbed down from her perch.

“Chuck, you’d better offer our guest some of that egg nog before it’s all gone!” Nan scolded, putting the chair back at the kitchen table.

Her father-in-law sighed, poking his head around the corner.“You kids want some egg nog?”

“I’m good,” Doc said, tipping his beer in his father’s direction as he came into the kitchen. He saw his wife standing by the egg nog and went to her, slipping an arm around her waist and kissing her cheek. “But I bet our two lovebirds wouldn’t turn down some nog.”

Daphne and Wilson appeared in the doorway, arms wrapped around each other. Carrie couldn’t help smiling at the sight.

“Oh! Oh! Look up!” Nan grinned, pointing at the mistletoe she’d just hung in the doorway.

“Oh darn, we’re caught.” Daphne laughed, putting her arms around Wilson’s neck. “I guess we have to kiss.”

Wilson actually blushed, but their lips met under the mistletoe and they all applauded.

Carrie smiled as Doc turned her to him, capturing her mouth and kissing her deeply. It was a very un-public kiss, a very not-in-front-of-your-parents-and-our-friends kiss, making her toes curl and her knees threaten to buckle.

“We’re not under the mistletoe,” she gasped when they parted, laughing.

Doc smiled. “I don’t need an excuse to kiss my wife.”

“Merry Christmas, Doc.” She put her arms around his neck, and everything else-Daphne and Wilson giggling under the mistletoe, Nan setting out a plate of cheese and crackers, Chuck pouring himself yet another egg nog while Nan wasn’t looking-melted away at the look in her husband’s eyes. He looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world-the only woman in his world who mattered.

“I love you.” Doc kissed her again, this time quickly, lightly, a casual kiss, one that told her that he expected to kiss her again, soon and often. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

Content

Selena Kitt
A Baumgartner Christmas