“I got you an early Christmas gift.” Doc put the envelope on the four TV trays pushed together in the middle of the living room that we’d set as a makeshift table with plates and silverware and wine glasses.
“Me?” I glanced toward the kitchen where Carrie was putting the final touches on Thanksgiving dinner. “Doc, no.”
“Yes.” He pushed it toward me, topping off my wine and heading back toward the kitchen. “It’s non-refundable so there’s no way out. Mwuhahaha!” He grinned as he grabbed Carrie’s ass on the way by, making her squeal and poke at him with the meat fork.
“You’re a bad man!” She licked her fingers, stirring something on the stove. “It’s almost ready, except I forgot to make the cranberry sauce yesterday so I guess we’re going to have to eat it warm.”
“It will be like cranberry dessert,” Doc said.
“Hey, you could have just opened a can and plopped it out onto a plate like my mom does.” I couldn’t resist-I peeked into the envelope and when I saw what was in it, my breath stopped. “No way. Oh my god. No way!”
“Yes way.” Carrie smiled over at me, sliding the pot off the heat to the middle of the stove. “I don’t want you here all by yourself for Christmas break.”
I pulled the tickets out of the envelope. “Key West?” I squeaked.
They’d been talking about taking me with them for weeks, once they found out I’d been boycotting holidays with my family all year and had no intention of doing Christmas with my mother and stepfather. Carrie said she didn’t want me to be alone for the holidays. Admittedly, my first Christmas without Isabella had been pretty bad, but I figured I could get through this one without too much trauma-with some Chinese food and Blockbuster videos.
“That’s depressing,” Carrie said when I told her. I think she had planned this little Thanksgiving more for me than anyone when she found out that Doc couldn’t get enough time off to fly back to Boston where Doc’s family lived.
“Okay, come and get it!” Carrie called. “Grab a plate and load ’er up!”
We did, taking big heaping helpings of food and sitting down at our makeshift table. None of us were very religious, but Carrie asked we bow our heads and say one thing we were thankful for.
“My girls,” Doc said, looking between the two of us.
Carrie smiled at him. “Family.”
“Love,” I said. What else was there?
And then we ate.
She’d gone all out-a huge, gorgeous turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans that put the mushroom soup kind my mother made to shame, none of it from a box or a can. She’d even made her own homemade cranberry sauce, which was actually the best part. It was still warm, like a sweet cranberry compote, and I had three helpings of the stuff.
Doc kept filling my wine glass and his own, but Carrie refused, drinking cranberry juice instead.
“How apropos,” I noted with a laugh. “You know you are a true domestic goddess, right?” I leaned back and held my bursting stomach. I’d planned for this and had worn a skirt with elastic, not a zipper.
She smiled and took a sip of her wine. “I like to do stuff like this.”
“I know it sounds caveman of me.” Doc leaned over and kissed her cheek. “But she’s a born wife and mother.”
She flushed a deeper shade of red and looked pleased. “I never had a mother, so I don’t know.”
“You’re not lacking for it. You mother everyone and everything.” I laughed as she fed Jezebel a piece of turkey from her own plate. The cat had put on weight since we’d moved in. So had I. We all had. Carrie cared for all of us very well, in spite of her own lack of care growing up in the foster care system-or maybe because of it.
“Maybe I’ll get the opportunity to be a real mother someday,” she said as she started to clear our plates. Doc and I exchanged glances, and I think we both felt the pain emanating from her.
“You are a real mother.” I clutched her wrist, holding her as she reached for my plate. I’d doubted it too often myself-how could I be a real mother, if I didn’t have a living baby? Our eyes met and I saw tears in hers and knew she’d understood.
“Who wants dessert?” She took my plate and headed to the kitchen. “I’ve got caramel apple pie and ice cream or pumpkin cheesecake.”
“Homemade of course,” Doc added. He was looking at me in a way I hadn’t experienced before and I wondered what he was thinking about the exchange that had just taken place.
I groaned. “I’m going to pop!”
“It’s only once a year,” she reminded me, putting our plates in the sink and reaching up in the cupboard for dessert ones.
“And there’s always room for pie!” Doc added.
I laughed. “I thought that was Jell-O?”
After we all had a piece of each-because who could decide?-Doc made Carrie sit down so he could clean up. She protested, but he insisted and I helped him while she curled up on the couch under the blanket and watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Carrie had popped a VHS tape in early that morning because she was too busy cooking.
“I watch it every year,” she told me, rewinding the tape. “It’s a tradition. I love the floats.”
Doc did the dishes and I dried and put them away. Then it was time to tackle the food.
“This turkey is enormous!” I protested. I felt like I’d been stuffing it into Tupperware for hours as Doc carved the rest of it off the carcass.
“We’ll be eating turkey sandwiches until Christmas,” he agreed, setting aside the wishbone and bagging the rest of the bird before washing his hands. Jezebel mewed a protest seeing all that good turkey on the carcass going into the garbage while I put the leftovers in the fridge.
“Looks like someone succumbed to the Thanksgiving tryptophan,” I observed, glancing around the corner to see Carrie curled up and sleeping on the sofa.
Doc smiled fondly at her, going over to tuck the blanket up to her chin. “That’s what happens when you get up at five in the morning to cook a twelve pound turkey.”
“A twelve pound turkey for three people!” I exclaimed, shaking my head. “She could have bought a pre-cooked Butterball and been done with it!”
“Not my girl.” He brushed her hair away from her cheek. She was angelic when she was sleeping. “She doesn’t do anything halfway.”
Watching him with her, seeing how much he loved her, gave me a lump in my throat. “So, about this Key West thing…” I started to change the subject.
“You’re coming and that’s final,” Doc said firmly, taking the tablecloth off the TV
trays and starting to put them away.
“Is that so?” I picked up my glass of wine from the kitchen counter, hiding my smile behind it. “And what are you going to do if I say no?”
“Spank you,” he replied promptly, putting the TV trays in their stand. “Besides, I miss seeing both of you in bikinis. You wouldn’t deprive me, would you?”
“Spank me, huh?” I raised an eyebrow.
He pushed “stop” on the remote and turned off the TV, turning to see the grin on my face. His eyes got a mischievous glint as he crossed the room toward me.
“So are you going to argue about it?” he inquired, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me near. I moved my wine out of the way so we could be even closer.
“I just might,” I breathed.
“Bad girl.” He kissed me and I let him, his tongue probing, seeking entrance. He had me pressed against the counter and I felt him growing hard against my leg so I slipped my hand down to squeeze him through his jeans.
“I may just spank you for the hell of it,” he gasped when our kiss broke, his eyes dark with lust.
“Promises, promises.”
“Brat.” He slid a hand up under my skirt, parting my thighs, and I spread for him, my eyes half-closing in pleasure as he pushed my panties aside to feel me. “So wet already. You are bad.”
“So spank me.”
He glanced over at Carrie, still sleeping on the couch. We’d been together plenty of times, the three of us, but Doc and I had never done this-not alone.
“I want you.” He kissed me again, sucking at my tongue, making me moan into his mouth. “Now. Here.”
“Here?” I squeaked, looking at the bedroom door just a few feet away, and then at Carrie, snoring gently under a blanket.
“Yeah.” He grabbed my hips and shoved me up onto the counter. Thankfully, all the dishes were done and put away, so it was now clear. Pushing my knees back, he pulled my panties aside and leaned in, burying his face against my wetness. “Oh god you taste so good.”
“Mmmm,” was all I could manage as his tongue made fat, lazy circles around my clit. I reclined as best I could, back on my elbows, putting my feet on his shoulders as he worked his mouth against my pussy. When I looked down between my thighs, I could see he had his cock out, his hand moving slowly up and down the shaft.
“Doc,” I whispered, my eyes closing, hips rocking in rhythm with his tongue. “Oh Doc, you’re gonna make me come.”
“Good girl,” he whispered back, focusing his attention back between my trembling thighs. I arched and gave a short, strangled cry, too aware that Carrie was just over there on the couch and could wake up and find us like this. But I couldn’t stop.
My climax was hot and fast, my pussy clamping down hard on nothing and begging for more. I wanted his cock. I needed it.
I sat up and pulled his face to mine, sucking and licking my pussy juices off his lips and tongue. He groaned and let me take his cock in my hand, stroking him against my hip and thigh as we writhed together, his hands gripping my ass, pulling me as close as he could manage.
“Should we be doing this?” I whispered against his ear, wrapping my legs around his waist. I might have been able to stop if he had said no. Maybe. God knows I didn’t want to. And neither did he.
“I don’t know.” He hesitated, his breath hot against my neck. “But I don’t care.”
I don’t know. Well, that was good enough. Wasn’t it?
“Let’s go to bed.” I slid off the counter and he held me close the whole way, giving me another hard, fast kiss before pulling me into the bedroom. He closed the door behind us and that act made my heart beat faster. Carrie was out there, and her husband had just put a closed door between us.
“Now.” He turned to me, not whispering anymore. “About that spanking…”
“No!” I squealed when he came after me, laughing as he tackled me onto the bed on my belly, his cock a steel rod against my ass. I took his full weight, gasping, struggling, still giggling when he clasped my wrists and pressed them to the bed.
“You’re a bad girl.” He nipped and licked at my neck, his voice low. “And now you’re going to get your spanking.”
He rolled off me and I gasped, taking deep breaths as he pulled my skirt up in the back, kneading my flesh with his hands. I squirmed when he yanked my panties down and pulled me across his lap, feeling my breath catch as his fingers probed the crack of my ass.
“Oh Doc…” I lifted my hips as his thumb moved down my wet slit.
“You like that?” He strummed me lightly at the top of my cleft.
“Mmm.” I arched in response.
Then his hand came down on my ass, smacking me hard.
THWAP!
I squeaked and tried to sit up, but I couldn’t regain my balance. He did it again, even harder.
THWAP!
“How about that?” he asked. “Do you like that?”
“Oww!” I howled as his hand met my stinging behind, actually feeling tears prick my eyes. “Don’t!”
“Then tell me what I want to hear.” The light brush of his palm was a brief respite against the heated flesh of my behind.
I searched my memory, trying to remember just what I was getting the spanking for in the first place, but my brain was still too foggy from our interlude on the kitchen counter.
“I don’t-”
THWAP!
I wailed, reaching back to cover my behind with my hands, trying to pull my skirt down. “Will you stop?”
I felt him chuckle. “Then tell me what I want to hear.”
“I…I love you!” I blurted and he laughed.
“Well, thank you, but that’s the wrong answer.”
THWAP!
Now I was getting mad. “Let me go.”
“Awww, I’m just having fun.” His fingers moving down between my thighs, trying to apologize. “Is that better?”
I relaxed a little, still wary. “Yes…”
“Mmm, you have such a sweet pussy.” He slid a finger wetly inside. “You make me want it so bad.”
“Then be nice,” I warned, spreading my thighs just a little to give him more room to explore.
“But being bad feels better.”
THWAP!
“Hey!” I protested, wiggling in his lap again “No fair!”
“Now, are you coming to Key West with us?” His hands dug into the flesh of my ass and I felt his teeth nipping, making me squeal. “Or not?”
“Yes!” I gasped, remembering now-the tickets to Key West for Christmas break.
“Yes, I’m coming! I’m coming!”
“Not yet you’re not.” He had me rolled onto my back and was on top of me before I could take another breath, my wrists clasped in just one of his hands. “But you will be.”
“Doc,” I whispered as he kissed and nuzzled my neck, sending shivers through me, making my nipples stand up under my blouse. I wanted to be naked, to feel his hot, sweaty skin against mine. “What if Carrie comes in?”
“Then she can join us,” he breathed, tugging at the top button of my blouse with his teeth, forcing it to pop open. “But if I’m being honest…” He licked down the center of my chest, stopping at the obstruction of my bra. “I hope she stays asleep.”
Oh god. I hadn’t wanted to admit it, how much I wanted this, wanted him-all to myself.
“Me too,” I whispered, swallowing as he yanked another button and I heard a soft
“clink” against the wall where it flew as it literally popped off my blouse. It was real silk, quite expensive-Mason’s parents had bought it for me last Christmas, I remembered.
“Rip it open.”
He gave a low growl and let go of my wrists, grabbing the top of my blouse and parting it with one quick motion. The bottom button stuck and he yanked one more time, spreading my blouse wide and looking at me in my bra.
“Leave your hands above your head,” he instructed as I reached for him, my fingers moving through his thick, dark curls. I whimpered but did as he requested and he undid my bra-it was one of my few front-hook versions-using both hands to press my breasts together and bury his face between them.
“Oh!” I gasped when he pressed one of my nipples between his lips, teasing it lightly with his tongue. Then he began to trace easy circles around my areola, spending a long, agonizing time on one before moving to the other. The switch elicited another gasp from my throat and my hands moved to his hair, pressing his mouth to me.
“Hands above your head,” he warned, eyes flashing. I groaned but complied, wiggling under him as started working on the other nipple, trying to get it as hard and wet as the first. “You have perfect breasts.” He sighed, nuzzling and kissing and licking.
“Your nipples are the sweetest ever.”
“Ever?” I teased. “What about your wife’s? I like hers better, how fat they get when they’re hard…”
“No fair.” He grinned, nipping a little at the side of my breast, making me jump.
“We can’t do comparisons when I can’t observe both subjects hands-on.”
“So to speak.” I was a little shy when he made me lift my hips so he could take down my skirt and my panties. We’d had sex together, well, lots of times, but I didn’t think he’d ever paid this close attention to my body before.
“Sorry about the stretch marks,” I apologized, closing my eyes as he kissed his way down my belly. I had proudly thought, all the way through my pregnancy, that I’d escaped them completely, but then I’d discovered I had them low, underneath-where I couldn’t even see when I was pregnant. There weren’t many, just a few stretching toward my hips, faded now.
“Shh.” His tongue dipped into my navel. “You’re beautiful.”
I blushed, feeling my embarrassment melt away when he pressed himself between my thighs, breathing in my scent. He slid his hands slowly under the swell of my ass and lifted me to his mouth like I was ambrosia, making little noises in his throat as he explored the folds of my flesh with his tongue. I don’t know how long he spent-it was forever, teasing me, taking me to the edge and pulling me back, again, again, and then again.
At first I would whisper, “Close, oh so close,” and he would back off, kissing my labia or slipping his tongue down to probe my hole. Then I stopped saying it, but he grew wise, knowing the tell-tale tense and tremble of my thighs, the curling of my toes, all meant I was close, and he’d slow down again, making me wait. And wait. And wait.
“Please,” I begged, starting to reach for him and then remembering, keeping my hands above my head. “Oh Doc, don’t tease me anymore.”
He lifted his head quickly, eyes bright, face full of my wetness. “No more?”
“Please,” I croaked.
“Okay.” He crawled up my body, poised above me, the muscles in his upper arms flexed as he held his weight off my body. “No more.”
“No!” I whimpered. “Don’t stop!”
“How about we do this instead?” he whispered, nudging my thighs open slightly with his and pressing his cock against my hole-perfect aim. Just a slight tilt of my hips and he would be inside.
“Don’t move.” He used one hand to grab my wrists, my hands still obediently clasped above my head, and held them there. “I’m going to fuck you until you come all over my cock.”
I moaned softly, biting my lip to keep from crying out when he shifted his hips and plunged himself into my depths. He gave a low grunt, taking a deep breath before starting to move, his pelvis grinding against mine. He was just moving his hips, working the shaft of his cock in short, fast strokes into my pussy. My breath matched his and I started to meet him, unable to stop the motion, rocking to his rhythmic beat.
I had waited so long, teetering on the edge of climax, that my pussy was actually throbbing around his cock, a thick pulse, as he pushed me toward that precipice with relentless, deliberate assault. I bucked and buried my face in his neck, raking my teeth over his shoulder, unable to do anything with my hands because he held them still, high above my head, helpless in my own pleasure, trying not to scream as I came. My orgasm hit so hard and hot and fast it was like a lightning strike, a hot surge of illuminated ecstasy followed by a slow burn that shook my whole body like thunder.
Doc let it tremble us both, slowing his strokes and then holding still, riding out the storm of my climax with breathless wonder. And then he pulled quickly out of me, grabbing my hips and burying his face between my legs with wild abandon. I squealed and tried to roll away, my clit too sensitive for that kind of stimulation so soon, but he wouldn’t let me go, his face thrashing against my pussy, driving me onward.
“No, no, no,” I whispered, digging my heels into the bed, still trying to escape, but he was too strong, too determined. “Oh god, no!” His finger moved down my slit, past the hole he’d just been fucking, to the tight pucker of my ass. “Oh please, no!” I begged, giving up on keeping my hands above my head and pushing at his head, his shoulders.
But Doc wasn’t taking ‘no,’ for an answer.
“Nooo!” I wailed, finally giving into the sensation, my clit responding in spite of my protest, my pussy and ass clenching tight. His finger was in my ass now, all the way in, fucking me hard, harder. “Oh god! Oh! Oh! Fuck! You’re gonna-oh!”
He persisted, fucking my ass and licking me to yet another orgasm, and I closed my eyes against the shame of my asshole fluttering around his pumping finger as I came against his mouth and tongue.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” He moved up to kiss me, letting me taste myself on his lips and tongue. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard…”
That was all the warning I got before I was rolled over onto my belly, his cock impaling me from behind. Not in my ass-thank god, I was afraid for a moment, trembling like a rabbit as he fumbled his cock down my crack-but plunging into my pussy, pounding me into the bed.
“Play with yourself,” he panted, grabbing my hips and pulling me up to my knees.
“Finger that pussy. Make yourself come again for me.”
“I can’t!” I protested, doing what he asked anyway, half-heartedly rubbing my pussy lips with my palm. My labia was shockingly swollen and slick, almost numb from so much pleasure.
“I’m not going to stop fucking you until you come.” He grunted and drove himself in hard. “I can do this all night long.”
I smirked. “Promises, promises.”
“Is that a challenge?” He shoved in, balls deep, and drew out again all the way to the tip. Then he did it again. And again. The long strokes were a tease and he knew it.
“Okay,” I panted, my fingers finding the aching nub of my clit. “Okay okay. I’ll come for you.”
“That’s my girl.” He gave me the short, hard strokes again, the ones that jarred my bones and drove me against the bed and made me beg for more.
“More!” I grunted, tilting my hips so he could get just a little more bruising depth.
“Oh god, give it to me! Gimme that fucking cock until I come!”
He gave a low, guttural cry at my words, his hands gripping my hips and grinding hard. I knew that sound-he was going to come. And so was I.
“Doc!” I closed my eyes and called out his name, my fingers doing the impossible and taking me over again-again! His cock pulsed once, twice, three times, oh god, I felt every surge of his cum rising up his shaft and emptying into my spasming cunt.
“Jeeeeezus,” he breathed, pulling out of me with a low groan. I turned and reached for him, letting him spoon me and tug the covers up over our sweaty skin. His fingertips traced lightly over my shoulder and side, making me shiver. We were quiet, letting our breath come back to some semblance of normal, our hearts slowing to a more steady beat.
“Hey.” He leaned over and kissed my temple. “I have a weird question for you.”
“Hmm?” I closed my eyes and wiggled my bottom into the saddle of his hips.
“What happens…if your IUD fails?”
I startled, my eyes flying open. “It’s unlikely.” I’d had an IUD since Isabella was born-I wouldn’t risk having another baby with Mason. I’d told Carrie about my method of birth control, and obviously she’d told Doc.
“But it could happen,” he said. “Theoretically.”
“Anything’s possible.” I reached over and picked up the thermometer off the night table next to their bed. Carrie woke up every morning to take her temperature, so hopeful. “I keep hoping to see a positive pregnancy test around instead of a thermometer.”
“You and me both.” He sighed. “You know, I want kids, but Carrie…she really wants kids. Not a million of them or anything. Just a boy and a girl-the usual matching set.”
I smiled, putting the thermometer back. “That doesn’t seem like too much to ask.”
“If I could do it for her I would,” he said softly. I turned in his arms so our bellies were pressed together.
“So would I.” Our eyes met and it was like a light bulb went off in both our heads at the same time.
Doc held up his hands, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean that. You can’t…I would never ask…”
“No,” I murmured. “You wouldn’t ask. But I could offer.”
He gaped at me. “That’s too much.”
“Does she have her heart set on having her own biological child?” I asked.
“She comes from foster care,” he reminded me. “She knows how many babies are out there who need families.” He rolled to his back, hands behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. “We’ve talked about adoption. I think it would be best, something like that. Pregnancy doesn’t seem to agree with her. We just don’t have the money now to do it. After my residency, maybe…”
“And there’s no medical reason for the miscarriages?” I sat up on my elbow, looking at him.
“Not one they can find.” He turned his sad eyes toward me. “Hell, I’m a doctor and even I know what we do isn’t an exact science. People like to think it is, that we know everything, but the reality is we know very little, still, about the way our bodies work.”
“Oh I think I have a pretty good idea how they work…” I teased, letting my fingers walk across his chest. He smiled, clasping my hand and kissing my palm. I sat up, excited by my idea. “So do you think she’d agree to let me carry your baby?”
He stared at me. “My baby…as in…yours and mine?”
I nodded. The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating. Part of me was screaming, What are you thinking? And another part of me was so joyful at the thought of being pregnant again I could barely contain myself.
“But you couldn’t.” He put a hand on my thigh, rubbing gently. “I mean, after what happened…”
“You mean Isabella?”
He nodded, wincing. I think Carrie was the only person I knew who didn’t want to turn away when I said her name out loud.
“I don’t know,” I mused. “Let me think about it. Mason wanted to have another right away, but I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t have been the responsible thing to do-of course, it wasn’t responsible to have Isabella in the first place, but I couldn’t make any other decision. Maybe it would even be healing for me to have a…a living baby.”
For some reason, the thought made me very happy. They’d both given me so much-what if I could give something back to them?
“But you would have to give it up,” he reminded me gently.
I shook my head. “It wouldn’t be the same. I’d be giving her to you, not a stranger.”
“It would be an incredible gift,” he admitted, and I thought I saw tears in his eyes.
“But I couldn’t ask you to do it.”
“You don’t have to ask.” I stretched out beside him again, putting my head on his chest. “I’m offering.”
He took a deep breath. “Let’s wait a while. Maybe Carrie will get pregnant again.”
Our eyes met. Getting pregnant wasn’t the problem-staying pregnant was. And neither of us knew if she could handle losing yet another one. Why put her through that?
I thought.
“Hey, what happened to the parade?” Carrie appeared in the doorway, rubbing her bleary eyes.
“You fell asleep.” Doc smiled a welcome and patted the bed. Carrie stripped off her jeans, climbing in wearing just her t-shirt to settle between us.
“How many times did he make you come?” she asked me sleepily as I pulled up the covers.
“Four.” I flushed and looked over at Doc. He was watching me with those dark eyes, looking between the two of us together in bed-“his girls.”
“He’s so generous.” She sighed and closed her eyes, curling her hand under her chin. Doc ran a hand over the curve of her hip over the covers, tracing the dips and valleys of her body. It was hard to believe, but he wasn’t done-he wanted us both. I could tell by the look in his eyes.
“Ohhh, Doc,” Carrie murmured, snuggling back against him as his hand moved under the covers, heading for the apex of her thighs. I cupped her breast in my hand-
she’d been in such a hurry to get into bed she was still wearing a bra-thumbing her nipple through the material. She rocked with him, making little noises, but her eyes never opened. “I’m soooo sleepy.”
“Damned turkey,” I sighed, hearing her breathing start to become deeper, more even.
“She was up too early.” He kissed her temple, lifting his fingers to his mouth and tasting her. “Mmm. I’m hungry again. Let’s get some turkey sandwiches.”
I glanced at the clock-it was only eight p.m. Carrie was snoring softly and we had all night. I followed him to the kitchen.