I agreed to meet Mason at Sweetwater. That was my compromise-the Baumgartners insisted that I not see him alone, that it be in a public place. But I wouldn’t let them come in, so they sat in the car parked at the curb, feeding the meter while Mason and I talked.
“Dani, I’m sorry.” Mason didn’t drink coffee so he ordered a Coke, drinking it from the glass. “The things I said…”
I waved his apology away, shaking my head. “Forget it.”
“I’m going to move home after this semester.” He stated this flatly, not looking at me. I’d known, when he asked me to go with him, that he was going to. He did whatever his parents wanted him to do, and this was clearly something they wanted. “I told you, my dad offered me a job. And I’m not really doing much here.”
He looked at me sheepishly and I didn’t deny it. He’d been failing more classes than he passed since Isabella was born. His parents didn’t do anything about it except around report card time. Then they lectured and threatened for a phone call or two-but they still paid the rent and the groceries and put spending money in Mason’s account every month.
“Okay.” I glanced out the window and saw Carrie looking in. I knew she was worried. “That’s fine.”
“The apartment…” He swallowed. “My parents won’t pay for it anymore after Christmas break. We’ll have to move our stuff out.”
I felt my breath go away. It wasn’t the thought of moving out. I’d basically done that already. I could find my own place and get a job to pay for it. That wasn’t the problem. It was Isabella’s room-her things. What was I going to do with those?
I swallowed and lied. “Okay. That’s fine, too. I’m already practically moved out anyway.”
He stared at me. “What?”
“I’m living with the Baumgartners.” I saw the shock and anger on his face and was glad then, that Carrie had insisted on a public meeting. “They think it’s not safe for me, living at the apartment alone.”
“Fuck you, Dani.” Mason’s jaw worked, his eyes flashing. “You know I wouldn’t hurt you on purpose.”
I pushed my full coffee cup away. “Let’s not do this.”
“I just wanted to tell you in person.” He leaned back in his chair and I didn't want to look at him. He was too sad. “I thought we could at least do this thing without fighting.”
“Lots of people have amicable divorces.” I shrugged. “It's the 'in' thing.”
He paled. “No one said anything about a divorce.”
“What do you think we’re doing here? Playing house?” I scoffed.
“Dani, I…” His face fell. I didn't want to see this, do this. I desperately wished I was somewhere else. “I love you. That has to count for something.”
I swallowed and looked out the window. Carrie saw me and waved, but I didn't wave back. When I looked back at Mason, he had tears in his eyes. I thought maybe I could muster a few, just for show, but I think I was all cried out. I'd emptied myself completely after losing Isabella. I just didn't have anything left.
“I love you too.” I said the words. I even meant them. “But we don't work together.
Maybe we never did. Maybe your mother was right-we only got married because I was pregnant, and now that there's not a baby anymore, well, what's the point?”
“We're the point.” He leaned forward, giving in one last college try. “We could have a life together.”
I shook my head. “We want very different things. Don't you see that?”
“What if I came to Italy?”
“Then we'd be unhappy together in Italy.” I smiled at him sadly. “And you don't want to move any further away from your family. You want to move closer, not further.”
He sighed. “Then let's just leave things open.”
“We can't live like that.”
“We have been,” he argued.
“And it's been the year from hell,” I reminded him. “At least for me.”
“Me, too.”
I wanted to touch his hand, to hug him, but I knew it wasn’t the best thing for either of us. “We both need a direction.”
“Can't we go in the same direction?”
“Not anymore.” I grabbed my purse off the back of the chair, slinging it over my shoulder and standing. “I've got to go.”
“So I guess we'll move everything out…?”
“Tell your parents I'll get my stuff out over break.” The thought made me go cold.
“They won't have to pay for me anymore.”
“I wish…” He stood, putting his arms around me, and I let him, trying not to cry.
He didn't have to say it.
“Me too.”
“How did it go?” Carrie turned to me as I got into the backseat-after the other night, it was much safer back there. She looked sympathetic, but she kept casting suspicious glances at Mason. He was still sitting at the table, drinking his Coke.
Doc glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “You don't look so hot.”
“I have to move out of my apartment.”
“Well, we can get the rest of your things.” Carrie sounded relieved. I think the thing she'd been most afraid of was that I'd get back together with him, and that obviously hadn't happened. “That's not a big deal. He-Man over here can handle it all himself, I'm sure.” She smirked.
“By the power of Grayskull!” Doc cried, pulling out and merging into traffic. He had a rare Saturday off. Carrie laughed and punched him lightly in the upper arm.
“Yeah, but I have to…” I swallowed, looking out the window at the cars passing by. “Isabella's things. They're all still…”
“Oh sweetie.” Carrie sighed, peering over the seat at me. I didn't meet her gaze.
Maybe if I didn't think about it, it would all go away. That tactic hadn't gotten me much of anywhere over the last year and a half, but as a momentary coping skill, it worked just fine.
“We'll work it out,” Doc said firmly and I tried to smile at his attempt to fix things when he looked at me again in the rearview mirror. “Don't worry.”
Right. Like it was that simple.
“Maybe we shouldn't have our surprise today,” Carrie murmured, talking to Doc.
He glanced at me again, and then at her. “Maybe.”
“What surprise?” I perked up, leaning over the seat.
She hesitated and then half-turned toward me. “I planned a little surprise for your birthday.”
My birthday wasn't until next week-November sixteenth. “What did you plan?”
“I know it's not until next week, but this is Doc's only day off until Thanksgiving, so…”
She knew I couldn't resist. “What is it?”
“It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you.” She grinned back at me and then turned to Doc. “What do you think? Yes or no?”
“I don't know.” Doc hesitated.
“Don't I get a vote?” I looked between them. “I vote yes!”
Carrie laughed. “Are you sure?”
“Yes!” I insisted. “A surprise will be good for me.”
“I guess we'll see.”
I couldn't imagine what the surprise could possibly be. They'd already been more than generous with me, and I hoped it wasn't anything extravagant or crazy that I'd have to turn down. Carrie knew how I felt about accepting things from Mason's parents, even though I did it anyway out of necessity, so I figured she'd know I wouldn't accept any expensive gifts.
I didn't have to worry.
“Where are we?” I stared up at the building as we passed, remembering a billboard I'd seen on the highway for this place-the one with the half-naked girl wearing leopard print.
“The Landing Strip.” Carrie giggled at my expression. “Haven't you ever been to a strip club?”
“No.” I stared at her, then at Doc. He was parking the car. “This is my surprise?”
“I hope you like it.” She took my hand as we got out.
“Have you been here before?”
“We've come here a few times.” Now I knew why Carrie had taken such an interest in my attire before we left, insisting I wear a skirt. She wore one too, almost as short as mine. It only came to mid-thigh. “They have a whole couples section.”
“They do?” And here I thought the only people who frequented strip clubs were businessmen, college guys and drug dealers. It was mid-afternoon but inside, it turned to night. The bar was dark, the lights over it dim. It wasn’t anything like I thought it would be. The guys weren’t leering or cheering. There were a few men in suits and ties seated around the stage, almost casually. But as I observed them watching the show, I noticed that they looked at the dancer like a lion looks at a gazelle-just before it pounces.
The brightest point in the room was on the stage, wrapped around and sliding down a silver pole. She was topless, wearing the tiniest black g-string I'd ever seen, but aside from that, she wasn't what I would have imagined in a stripper. Her breasts were small, not tiny but definitely not fake, with tiny pink areola and nearly flat nipples. I couldn't help wondering what they looked like when they were hard and suddenly wished it was colder in here. She was petite and pretty, certainly. Blond, so maybe that fit the stereotype, but her hair was long and straight, more Marsha Brady than Traci Lords. Her legs looked deceptively long in her heels and she had a tattoo on her hip, some Chinese lettering.
Carrie had a better body-hell, so did I. But it wasn't about that. It was the way she moved. Like a cat, a snake, curling around the pole, writhing. I'd never seen anyone move their hips like that, even in porn.
Doc paid the cover charge. The music was loud, pounding, and it vibrated my pelvis, which was probably the point. I looked around at the clientele and saw that I hadn't been far off in my stereotyped assumption. There were mostly men seated at big, padded black leather benches around the stage, sipping on drinks and occasionally glancing up at the dancing girl. Personally, I didn't know how they could keep their eyes off her, but maybe that was just because it was all new to me.
“Over here.” Carrie led me by the hand and I stumbled after her. We took a booth in the corner. There wasn't a bad seat in the house if the girl on stage was the main attraction-and she obviously was. Doc slid in, sandwiching me between them, and waved a waitress over to order drinks.
That's when I noticed that the waitresses were topless too. Ours was pretty, her curly brown hair pulled up away from her face, revealing stunning dark eyes, but I doubted her customers looked at her face very much. Her breasts were far too distracting.
“What can I get you?” She didn't have a pad or a pen-where would she put it?
Must have a great memory, I thought, as Doc ordered two shots, Carrie ordered a Cherry Coke and I asked for a seven and seven. I couldn’t help watching her walk away to get our drinks. Her g-string was practically invisible.
“What do you think?” Carrie whispered.
“It's…interesting.” I couldn’t take my eyes of the girl up there. Everything about her screamed sex, from the way she whipped herself around the pole to the long stretch of her legs when she bent over, dragging her hair across the stage. It was like watching porn in public and I squeezed my legs together against the gentle pulse of my pussy between my thighs.
“Sexy isn’t she?” Carrie handed my drink over when the waitress brought it.
I sipped and nodded, welcoming the warm burn of the alcohol down my throat and the dizzying buzz it sent to my head.
“Anyone hungry?” Doc asked as the waitress slipped away. My gaze followed the sway of her hips as she walked by. I glanced around, amazed to see businessmen eating sandwiches and hot wings with their beer. How could anyone watch a show like this and even think about eating?
“Not for food,” I managed, gulping down the rest of my drink.
“I know what you mean.” Carrie smiled knowingly, sliding her hand over my knee under the table. I shivered but slid closer to her so our thighs were touching.
“Here.” Doc reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. I stared as he opened it to reveal a wad of dollar bills. He grinned at me. “I came prepared.” He handed a few over to me and nodded toward the dancer. “Go put one in her g-string.
Everyone should do it at least once.”
I blushed. “I can’t.”
“I’ll go with you.” Carrie nudged me, snatching another dollar from Doc’s hand.
“Come on.”
We slid out of the booth and moved toward the stage. The girl had seen Carrie flash her dollar out of the corner of her eye and started toward us, using her hips to propel herself forward, her pelvis jutting out, her belly undulating as she walked. It was an amazing performance and I stood, transfixed, looking up at her as she neared us.
I could smell her-something light and fruity, sweet. Carrie winked at the blond as she tucked the dollar bill under the elastic strap of the dancer’s g-string and I noticed for the first time that she had several more under there. I couldn’t move, entranced by her hips, the slightly rounded expanse of her belly and the piercing-something I’d never seen before at all-in her navel.
“Hi sexy.” She squatted down in front of me, her eyes warm and dark, like chocolate. “Welcome to the Landing Strip.”
She obviously knew I’d never been there before. “Th-thanks,” I managed to strangle the word out of my throat and she smiled, a slow, seductive thing, as she gracefully got to her feet, her black heels impossibly tall, making her legs look as if they never ended as she stood over me. She was so close I could see the fine little blonde hairs on her thighs that she’d missed while shaving. That sight made my knees weak.
“Got something for me?” Her hips swayed, the triangle of material between her legs cupping the swell of her mound as she moved back and forth. She was completely nude except for that one swath of material and I couldn’t think about anything but what was beneath it.
She turned around and got down onto her knees, flipping her hair over her shoulder to look back at me. Stunning. Like a little goddess. Her thighs were parted and she rocked as if fucking an invisible cock coming up through the stage. She moaned softly, really giving us a show, and I stood enthralled, my breath just gone.
Then she moved toward us, crawling backwards, until her bottom was right in my face. She rolled her hips, showing us far more than she was probably supposed to-I saw a glimpse of her pussy lips, her pink slit, and the wink of her asshole-before cocking her hip toward me for her reward.
I would have put a thousand dollar bill in her g-string if that’s what had been in my hand. Her skin was velvety smooth as I tucked the bill under the elastic and I ran a fingernail over her skin, following that g-string line, and saw her smile as she stood, dancing her way back toward the pole in the middle of the stage.
“How do you like your surprise?” Doc asked, grinning as I floated back to our table.
“I love it,” I exclaimed as I picked up my drink and swallowed the heat-Doc had ordered more for me while Carrie and I were otherwise occupied.
“Well this isn’t all of it actually.” Carrie smiled slyly. “You still get your birthday lap dance.”
I gaped at her. “My what?”
I’d heard of lap dances, of course, but thought they were sorts of things that just happened for bachelor parties. Of course, before the Baumgartners, I didn’t know couples went to strip clubs either. I was wrong on both counts. Doc and I had quite a few more drinks and the dancers changed shifts-the new girl had blond hair with dark roots and obviously fake breasts and didn’t interest me nearly as much as the other dancer had.
And Carrie knew it. “Let’s see if we can get you a lap dance with Tiffany.”
“Tiffany?” I blinked.
“The girl who was up there before this one,” Doc explained.
Tiffany. If that wasn’t a stripper name, I didn’t know what was. Lucky for us, Tiffany was still around and said she’d be happy to do a lap dance for us. Doc paid the lap dance fee-neither of them would tell me how much it was-and the bouncer let us into the private back room.
My knees were trembling as we went in. I was glad there was a half-moon booth seat we could sit on together while we waited.
“How does this work?” I whispered. I was surprised the bouncer hadn’t given us any instructions.
“Technically, we’re not supposed to touch her,” Doc explained as I looked around the dark little room. There was a black curtain drawn on both sides, but the music was piped in through speakers on the walls. The lighting was dim, but we could all see each other clearly enough. “Although sometimes they let you. Just don’t touch her unless she invites you to.”
“Dancers tend to be a little more free with us girls.” Carrie winked. “Oh, and they can touch you. And they will. A lot.”
I flushed. “Can we touch each other?”
“Technically, there’s no rule against that.” Doc grinned.
Tiffany came into the room like she owned it-and I guess she did. She was wearing more clothes than she’d been in before, a short-short silvery dress that glittered when she walked. Her heels were silver too, and even higher than the ones she’d worn on stage, if that was even possible. She wasn’t a tall girl, but those shoes made her legs look delightfully long and curvy.
She moved slowly, deliberately, hips swinging. Her gaze met mine as she edged closer. I could smell her again, that heady scent, as she leaned toward me, putting her hands on my bare knees, which were primly squeezed together under my short skirt.
She had tiny hands, with long delicate fingers and lightly painted nails.
“I hear you’re the birthday girl.” She nuzzled my neck, nosing my hair out of the way so her whispered words could brush my ear. “I’m Tiffany.”
I cleared my throat, feeling her nails lightly tickling my knees. “I’m Danielle. And this is my friend, Carrie.” It felt very strange to be introducing myself to a stripper, but I looked over and saw Carrie smiling. “And her husband, Doc.” On the other side of me, Doc was quiet, not smiling, just watching, his eyes dark.
Tiffany rocked as she started to stand, her little hips moving back and forth, her hands trailing up the silk of her thighs, lifting her dress, just a little. She teased us, her hemline flirting with her g-string as she danced, using her hands to trace the soft curves of her body through the material. I heard my own intake of breath when she cupped her own breasts, rubbing her palms flat against them until her nipples grew hard.
“Isn’t she pretty?” Carrie whispered. I felt her hand cupping the back of my neck, massaging. “Does she turn you on?”
My mouth was too dry to speak as Tiffany began to grind her hips in circles, slowly spiraling downward toward the floor and then back up again, giving us more glimpses of her panties. Next to me, I heard Doc give a little groan as Tiffany stayed down on the floor, thighs open, palms pressed to the floor, doing that same motion I’d seen her do on-stage, as if she was riding a nice big cock. I was pretty sure Doc was wishing it was his.
Tiffany gave a little moan, her eyes half-closed, and then she turned her back to us, up on her knees, reaching back to lift her skirt over her behind with her hands. Her palms slipped the material up and down against her ass, playing peek a boo with that tattoo on her hip, and then bending forward onto her hands and knees so we could see her bottom up in the air.
“Mmm.” Carrie’s hand moved down my back, over to my hip, and I felt her breasts pressing into my side. “That’s sexy.”
Tiffany rolled gracefully on the carpet, turning and coming toward us on hands and knees, stalking, like a cat. She stopped in front of me-my thighs were still squeezed tight, my pussy pounding between my legs, begging for attention I knew it probably wouldn’t get for hours-and then rubbed her cheek against my knees.
She was so soft, so inviting, I couldn’t help opening a little. Encouraged, she sidled up between my thighs, making me part them wide, wider. My skirt rode up too high, all the way to my hips, as she situated herself between my legs, rubbing her body against mine.
“Take my dress off,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear.
I groped for the hem of her dress, my fingers brushing her behind through the material. I inched it up and finally reached the edge, finding it almost impossible to concentrate as she continued to writhe between my thighs. When I started lifting, Tiffany gracefully raised her arms and let me slip the silky material over her head.
“That’s better.” She slid her body against mine from bottom to top, her naked breasts grazing my cheeks as she stood and placed a knee against one of my hips, and then swung her other knee over, straddling my lap. Which was, I reasoned, why they called it a lap dance. She rocked her hips against mine, her hands moving through my hair, down my shoulders, and I wished I was wearing far less, so I could feel the heat of her pussy against mine.
But her breasts were in my face, rounded and sweet, her nipples pursed and hard. It was the hardest thing to not slide my hands over her body, to grab her hips and press her against me. Carrie seemed to know this and she held one of my hands, squeezing gently, as Tiffany ground our crotches together. My breath was coming in short pants and hers was too. I wondered if this really turned her on, or if she did it so often, all day long, that it just became part of the job.
“Here.” Tiffany took my hand, the one Carrie wasn’t holding, and slid it up her waist, over her ribs, stopping just short of her perfect little breasts. I kept my hand where she left it as she rocked in my lap, watching every delicious undulation of her curvy little body. She made me dizzy with lust.
I wanted to suck her nipple into my mouth as it grazed my cheek, but I didn’t. I wanted to kiss her throat as she arched, but I didn’t. I wanted to cup the hot little mound of her pussy and rub her, but I didn’t. What I did do was slowly move my hand back down her waist, letting it rest where the elastic band of her g-string stretched over her flawless hip.
“Pretty tattoo,” I murmured, using my fingernail to trace the lines of the Chinese characters. “What does it mean?”
She slowed, looking bemused as she stared down at me. “Love is pain.”
I nodded, rubbing my thumb there. “Ain’t that the truth.”
“Yeah.” Tiffany suddenly felt real in my arms as she leaned in and kissed me. It was a soft, sweet kiss, and I opened my mouth under the gentle press of her tongue. I heard Doc moan softly, watching us kiss, and felt Carrie’s hand in my hair, stroking me.
“Don’t tell,” Tiffany whispered so softly in my ear I thought I might be dreaming, but then she was kneeling between my thighs, spreading them open with her palms and pressing her face against my pussy.
“Oh god.” I moaned softly as she started using her tongue through my panties.
They were already soaked-I was so turned on I could barely think. Carrie grabbed one of my knees, pulling it back and spreading me even wider, her breath hot against my ear as she watched the little stripper working her face between my legs. Doc followed her example and grabbed my other knee, and they both held me like that, open wide for her hungry mouth.
“Oh fuck,” I moaned, my head going back, my eyes closing. Her tongue lapped again and again at the crotch of my panties, teasing my clit, and I knew I couldn’t possibly stop the orgasm that was already shaking my thighs. “Oh you’re gonna make me come!”
I heard little Tiffany make a noise, her nails digging into my thighs, and that sent me over the edge. I shuddered and climaxed under the onslaught of her tongue, letting Carrie and Doc support me completely in my delirious pleasure. She came up smiling, her eyes bright.
“Don’t tell,” she said again, glancing at the dark curtain.
“No,” I gasped, shaking my head. “I won’t.”
“I think I owe you…” Doc started to reach for his wallet but Tiffany stopped him.
“It wasn’t about that.” She frowned at him but then smiled up at me. “Happy birthday, Danielle.”
I sat up, closing my legs, my ears still ringing. “Thank you, Tiffany.”
“Lynn.” She stood, her fingers rubbing at her tattoo. I don’t even think she knew she was doing it. “My name is Lynn.”
And then she was gone, grabbing her dress off the floor and heading through the black curtain toward the back of the club.
“Oh my god.” Carrie slid her arms around my neck, nuzzling my cheek. “Wow.”
“Does that happen every time?” I gasped.
Doc laughed. “Hardly.”
“Happy birthday.” Carrie kissed me softly, reminding me just exactly what I was doing here, between them. I felt Doc’s hand moving over my thigh, his arm slipping around my waist.
“Okay, you can take me home and give me my real present now.” I looked back and forth between them.
“Your real present?” Doc raised an eyebrow and then groaned when I slipped my hand down to his crotch and squeezed. His eyes brightened. “Are you sure?”
I felt the hard throb of his cock and rubbed him through the material. “How fast can you drive?”
“Faster than you can say ‘yes.’”
“Y-” He cut the word off with a hard, probing kiss, and then we were out of there, just as fast as he had promised. I don’t remember the ride home. I vaguely remember riding between them, Carrie’s hand up my skirt, mine in Doc’s lap, distracting him. But he managed to make it without killing us, pulling up to the apartment and quickly killing the engine.
“No running away.” Carrie grabbed my hand as we got out of the car and I smiled, but there was no escaping anyway. They had me between them before we even got to the bedroom, Carrie kissing me up against the front closet door, sliding her thigh between mine, Doc behind, his hands moving over both of us at once.
“Oh god!” I cried when Carrie dropped to her knees and shoved my skirt up over my hips, burying her face between my legs. First she licked me like Tiffany had, right through my panties, and the sensation coupled with the memory was almost enough to make me come right then.
“Lick it,” Doc instructed her, reaching down to lift one of my legs, holding me open for her and pulling my panties aside. “Bury your face in her, baby.”
Carrie moaned and did just as he asked, her eyes wide and wanting as she looked up at us both. I could feel the steel press of Doc’s hard cock against my ass and I rocked back against him and onto Carrie’s eager tongue, both together, back and forth, the pleasure increasing with every motion.
“Oh please!” I arched, feeling my knees beginning to go, but it didn’t matter because Doc held me up, his fingers spreading my pussy wide for his wife’s lashing tongue “Make me come! Oh! Ohhhh!”
Carrie covered my pussy with her mouth and sucked. That did it, the instant change in sensation from licking to suction, and I buried my hands in her hair, rubbing my pussy all over her face and tongue as I came. Doc held me up as I quivered in his arms, too breathless to speak.
“Time for a bed,” he insisted, reaching around and lifting me off the ground entirely, carrying me to the bedroom while Carrie followed behind.
He sat me on the bed and I leaned back on my elbows. We stayed that way for a minute, the Baumgartners looking down at me and me looking up at them, their hands in my hair, running over my shoulders, my breasts. I’d lost my heels somewhere, probably during our interlude in the living room, and I put my bare feet up on the bed and let my legs fall open.
“What am I going to do with you two?” Doc groaned at the sight, my panties still pulled aside, my pussy wet from Carrie’s attention.
His wife leaned over to kiss him. I saw their tongues and the way she squeezed his crotch before whispering, “Everything,” into his ear.
I tugged at Carrie’s skirt- off-and she obliged, letting Doc unzip it before she slid it down her hips. She was undressed completely when she crawled into bed and she started to take my clothes off too as Doc watched. He peeled off his shirt and I admired the sight of him as Carrie unhooked my bra and tossed it on the floor with the rest of our clothes. All that was left was my panties.
“I want your tongue,” Carrie murmured, hooking her thumbs in the elastic of my underwear and sliding them down my thighs. “I want to come in your mouth.”
“Sit on my face.” I reached for her and she came to me, leaving the last vestige of our clothes on the floor as she straddled my head. The smell of her was incredible and I wrapped my arms around her hips, pulling her down so she was spread wide, her pussy mashed against my tongue.
“You like watching, Doc?” Carrie asked, looking over her shoulder at him. I couldn’t see much out of the corner of my eye, but he was still standing next to the bed, his pants and boxers down, his cock fisted in his hand.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed. I felt a hand on my thigh and knew it was his.
“Her tongue feels so good.” Carrie faced the headboard, gripping it as she rocked against my mouth and I drank her in as deeply as I could, lapping up her juices, all the way down her slit and back up to the top of her cleft. “Oh god, Doc, her sweet little mouth…”
“Her pussy’s sweet too,” Doc countered and I moaned when I felt his fingers slipping through the wetness between my thighs. “So smooth. Oh Dani, god, I want to fuck you.”
“Do it!” I took my mouth off Carrie’s mound just long enough to gasp the words.
“Fuck me!”
Doc groaned and climbed up onto the bed, parting my thighs with his big hands. I let him push my knees way back, drowning in Carrie’s wetness all over my face. I could tell she was about to come by the sounds she made, the way her legs started to shake.
“Oh wait!” Carrie cried, slipping a hand behind my head and shoving my face against her cunt. Her clit was hiding again and I sucked at it, feeling her shudder and buck. “Oh fuck! Coming! Oh god!” I squeezed her hips, keeping her pressed hard against my face, my tongue working against her quivering clit until she starting begging me to stop.
“Wait! Wait!” She panted, sliding back, away from my eager mouth.
“More.” I searched her wetness with my fingers, feeling her tremble.
“Jesus,” Doc whispered. I felt his hands on my thighs, gripping so tightly I thought he might be giving me bruises. Not that I cared. “I’m not going to last long.”
“I want to watch you fuck her.” Carrie turned around, still breathless, stretching out next to me and resting her cheek on my belly.
“You do it.” Doc knelt up between my legs and the sight of him made my pussy throb. “Put me inside her.”
Carrie grabbed his cock, pumping him slowly in her fist, making his eyes half-close, before she rubbed the head of him right against my clit.
“Oh!” My hips bucked up involuntarily at the sensation as she teased me with his cock head, up and down my slit.
“Are you ready?” she murmured. I didn’t know if she was talking to him or to me, but it didn’t matter, we were both more than ready. I felt her sliding the fat mushroom tip of him down toward my hole and tilted my hips up to meet him.
“Oh Dani!” He called my name as he shifted forward, sliding his length into me.
He stopped there, not quite bottoming out, his eyes closed, his breath fast. “Oh. Wow.
Okay…wait.”
I felt an incredible sense of power, seeing his face, knowing how turned on he was, how close he must be to just shooting his load right then. So I squeezed my muscles, clamping my pussy down around his shaft, making his eyes fly wide and his cock jerk inside me.
“Brat!” he gasped, using the flat of his hand to smack my hip. I just giggled, doing it again. “Oh fuck. Dani, really. Don’t.”
“Does it feel good?” I whispered huskily, squeezing rhythmically, first slow, then faster. “Does it make you want to come?”
He gave a low growl and grabbed my legs, pushing my knees back as far as he could, practically bending me in half. His gaze fell between my thighs where his cock was pressed deep into me. Carrie was smiling, leaning on her elbow next to us on the bed, just watching.
“I want you to lick her,” Doc told his wife. “Lick that pussy while I fuck her.”
Carrie perked up, getting to her hands and knees and leaning over me. “My pleasure.”
“Oh! Doc!” I gasped when he slid his cock nearly all the way out and then shoved it back in, deep and hard. Carrie spread me open with her fingers, leaning in to suckle my clit, pulling it into her mouth with a gentle suction and cradling it with her tongue. “Oh my god!”
“Feel good?” Doc gave me a wicked smile, pushing my legs back when they slipped a little, tilting my hips and giving both of them better access to my pussy.
“Yessss,” I hissed, biting my lip as he began to fuck me. It was so good I could barely stand it, the sensation of being pounded like that while Carrie’s tongue worked fast and furious against my clit. I found her pussy with my fingers, needing to feel her wetness. She opened for me easily, letting me finger her, keeping up the same rhythm as Doc.
“Don’t come inside her,” Carrie murmured, taking a momentary break from my throbbing clit, making me whimper at the loss of sensation. “I want to lick your cum off her wet little cunt.”
Doc groaned and shoved deep into me, bottoming out now, again, again. He was fucking me so hard it almost hurt and I didn’t care-I wanted more, my fingers buried deep in Carrie’s pussy, my thumb strumming lightly at her little clit.
“You ready for it?” he growled, reaching a hand down between us, close. So close. My pussy was on fire, my whole body tense and begging for release.
“Do it!” Carrie stopped licking me to pump his cock, spreading my pussy lips wide with her fingers and aiming him at my clit. “Come all over her cunt!”
He gave a low keening wail, throwing his head back as he came, and I saw the muscles in his belly clenching, releasing, again and again, a hot gush of cum flooding my pussy. Carrie kept him tight in her fist, squeezing the head and rubbing him against me as she milked him, his cock erupting in her hand.
“Oh that’s a lot,” she whispered, and then her mouth covered my wet mound, sucking and licking and making me come. I gave into it completely, forgetting about the 126
hand I had buried in her pussy, but she didn’t stop, rocking into my fingers, fucking them and bringing herself off too as we climaxed together.
“Too fast,” Doc complained with a groan as he collapsed on the bed, looking over at us, still twined together in the afterglow of our orgasms.
“We’ve got all night,” Carrie reminded him with a laugh, climbing over to snuggle on his other side.
“We’ve got forever,” I countered, smiling at them both as I pressed Doc between us and twined my fingers with Carrie’s on his chest.
And that night at least, we made good use of our time together.