by TL Alexander
Chase frowns and drops the covers. Then he crawls back to my side of the bed and kneels next to his brother.
“Do you know what today is?” JB asks me.
“Hmm. I think it’s Saturday.”
“Mom,” they both whine-pout.
“What? It’s not Saturday?”
“It’s Saturday, Mom,” Chase says, “but it’s a special Saturday.”
“A special Saturday?”
“Very special,” JB adds.
My palm makes contact with my forehead as I give it a dramatic knock. “Oh, now I remember it’s Christmas Eve—Eve.”
“Mommm,” JB moans.
“It’s the last day of work for Santa’s Elves for the year.”
“Nooo,” Chase says with whiny-pout.
“Oh, now I remember. How silly of me.” I shake my head with theatrical flair. “It’s adopt a reindeer day.”
“Can you do that?” JB asks me.
Chase frowns. “Did you really forget what today is?”
I smile and tousle his hair. “I could never ever forget what today is.”
“Isn’t it Saturday?” Jaxson asks.
“Dad!” they both scream and jump up and down, and then jump on and crawl all over him.
That should take care of his great big pee-pee.
“It’s our birthday, Dad,” Chase tells him.
“No way, dude. Are you sure?”
“Dad,” they both whine.”
“I think I know two three-year-olds that need a birthday tickle.”
They jump up and down and then fall in the center of the bed. They hoot and giggle as Jaxson and I tickle them until they are begging for mercy.
“No more! No more!” they giggle-plead.
“I think I know a mom that could uses a good tickling,” Jaxson says.
“No. No, I don’t think so,” I plead-pout.
They gang tickle me.
“Stop! I’m going to pee my panties.”
“Not until you cry ‘mercy,’“ JB says.
“All right. Mercy, mercy, please stop...oh crap.”
“What’s wrong?” Jaxson asks me.
“Too late.”
The boys giggle.
I get out of bed. “Not funny,” I say and point to them. “It’s ‘all’ of your faults, that I can’t hold my pee.”
Their laughter turns to hysteria.
Jaxson halts his hysteria. “Why is it my fault?”
I give him my “mom” look. And it’s one hell of a “mom” look. It trumps “The Brow”—any day.
He frown-pouts. “I guess I was the one who started it all.”
I nod, faux huff and walk to the bathroom. I finish what I’d started and step into the shower.
A few minutes later while I’m rinsing shampoo from my hair, I feel a warm hand between my legs, then warm lips on my belly.
I open my eyes and watch as he gifts my belly with another warm love peck.
“What are you doing?”
“Kissing my ‘girls’ good morning.”
“Where are the boys?”
“Lizbet came a knocking. Lester made birthday cinnamon rolls.”
“I see,” I say and frown. “So that means that’s the only kiss I’m going to get?”
He turns on another showerhead in our hunormous ten people shower, and steps under. “If I don’t hurry my ass, they’ll be gone.”
I finish up with my hair and turn off the water. I’d like to participate in some morning shower fun, but I can’t compete with Lester’s cinnamon rolls. Goddamn those sticky buns.
I get out and begin to dry off as Jax steps out next to me.
“That was quick.”
“I’m in a hurry,” he says as he runs a towel over his long, hot (God how I’d like to lick it dry) body and hair, and then walks into the dressing area.
I haven’t even begun to dry my (according to Phillipè) unfashionable, too long hair when he steps out, fully dressed.
“Well, I guess I know where you’re going to be for the next hour or so.”
“What are your plans for this morning?”
“I’m going to check on the party preparation, and then check in on the puppies. You’re still going to take them to lunch, aren’t you? So we can get things put together? They know about the party but I’d like some things to be a surprise.”
He gives me a quick peck on my forehead. “Yeah, I asked them what they wanted to do and they said go to a place called ‘Chuck Me Please.’“
I laugh. “It’s Chuck E. Cheese.”
“Whatever.”
“I think every kid likes that place because every parent hates it. The closest one is about an hour away, so you better plan accordingly.”
“I talked Stewart, Nick, Marco, and Henry into coming with us.”
“Those poor bastards.”
“It can’t be that bad. They do serve beer don’t they?”
“I don’t think so.”
He frowns. “We’ll survive, somehow.”
He gives me another quick kiss. “We’ll see you later then.”
“Have fun.”
* * *
“Lester, you’ve outdone yourself. The boys won’t want to eat it.”
“He’s been working on it for days,” Mary says.
“I bet he has. It’s a work of art. It doesn’t look like a cake. It looks exactly like a Matchbox car made out of Legos.
“So, you think they’ll like it?”
“Lester, they are going to love it. JB will want to take it apart and built something else and Chase will want to drive it around on the floor.”
“They might not have room for cake after all the rolls they devoured,” Mary adds.
“Don’t worry, they’ll find room.”
“The caterers are setting up and I’m going to start on the decorations.”
“Sounds good. I’m going to check on the puppies, and then I’ll come help you.”
“I can’t believe that they’re three already,” Mary says as her eyes begin to tear up.
“Mary, don’t cry.”
She bites her lip. “I’m good. I’m good.”
She is so going to cry.
I give them both a hug. “Thanks again for everything. I’ll see you two later.”
I exit stage right wanting to escape Mary’s cry-fest. Once that woman starts to cry, she can’t stop.
I look out the window. It’s been snowing for a few hours and there is a foot of new snow. I pull on some boots, grab a hat, and put on my coat. Then I make my way to the guesthouse, or what we like to call “Grant Cottage.”
Grant House, New York feels like home to me. It’s the only home I’ve owned other than the Soho loft that hasn’t been lived in by generations of ancestors. No ghosts or bad memories live here. We are going to fill it with family, friends, love and good memories.
I told Sam I wanted a large shower and tub, a comfortable home office, a heli-pad for Lane’s helicopter, stables with a riding arena, barn, a large indoor-outdoor pool for the boys, and guest cottage. She found the perfect wooded lot in upstate New York, not far from the Ryan Estate and built us a beautiful home. It’s new, but it looks like it’s been here for centuries and I hope it will be.
When I reach the cottage I walk to the back door. I am family, after all. I knock a few times and get no answer so I crack the door open. “Are you decent?” I yell.
I hear Lane laugh. “Unfortunately, yes, “ he says as he comes to meet me at the door.
I kick my boots off and hang up my coat. Then I give him a quick kiss on the cheek and a warm hug.
Lane looks out the window. “It’s really starting to stick.”
“Yeah, it’s really coming down.”
He takes my hand. “Come on in and join the fun.”
I walk into the main living area, or what was a living area. It’s been taken over by puppy paraphernalia. “Did you buy all this? It looks like a Puppies-R-Us in here.”
“Good morning to y
ou, too, sis.”
“Sorry. Good morning.” I give her a peck on the cheek.
“And no, we didn’t buy all of this. Jules and Marco helped.”
Jules walks in from the kitchen with a puppy asleep in a...”Is that a baby carrier?”
“Good morning to you.”
“Sorry.” I walk over and give her a hug and kiss and pat the top of the puppy’s head.
“It’s not a baby carrier—it’s called a pooch pouch. See?” she says and shows me a hole near the bottom where a little cream-colored tail is poking out.
I shake my head. “What will they think of next?”
“You have no idea, girlfriend. I’m in the wrong business.”
I look round the room and spy something. What the...? “Is that a bassinet?” I ask anyone who cares to answer.
Sam laughs. “Of course not, it’s a canine cradle.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, of course it is.” I point to a playhouse-like structure. “And that’s a puppy palace, right?”
“Wrong again, sis. It’s a doggie dwelling.”
“Holy Christ.” I try one more time. I pick up something that looks like a mini-training potty. “A puppy potty?”
Sam walks over and takes it from me and lifts up the lid.
“Wipes?”
“Yes.” She points to a label.
I read it. “Holistic Hound Heiny Wipes.”
“That’s just wrong,” I say and sit down on a sofa.
Jules removes the now awakened puppy from the carrier and puts him on the floor next to his brother who has been chewing on what looks like... “Are those Chucks?!”
“An old pair,” Sam relies.
“The fucking best kind! That’s barbaric. And just plain wrong.”
Sam rolls her eyes at me. “God forbid, the chewing of a Chuck.”
“It’s...desecration.”
She sighs, and quickly changes the subject. “Speaking of heinies, how is yours?”
Lane laughs.
“You told him?”
“Are you kidding me? Of course I did. You never said not to.”
“I would have thought you would have known not to.”
“Yeah, Sam,” Jules adds, “what’s wrong with you?”
“You told Nick didn’t you?”
“Well, duh.”
“Jules,” I cry-pout.
“Don’t worry. Unlike me, he can keep a secret.”
“Who else did you tell?”
“I might have mentioned it to Marco and Henry.”
“You might have?”
“Okay, I did.”
“So, how is the old ass-filled hole?” Lane asks.
“I told Lane that you were feeling a little bit ‘plugged up’, yesterday.” Sam laughs.
“You are so, not funny.”
“Oh come on, Lex, stop acting like a ‘stuck up bitch,’“ Jules quips.
They all laugh.
“Are you done yet?”
“I’m sorry, sis, I know it’s a ‘sore’ subject.”
They all laugh—again.
“Oh come on Lex,” Lane says, “chill out and take it, up the ass, like a man.”
They continue to laugh at my “sore situation.”
“Can you all, please be done? I don’t need your teasing; I need your support and advice. This whole butt-fucking prep stuff really sucks.”
“If you’re not comfortable or ready yet, then don’t do it,” Jules says.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for it. But it’s something that Jax really wants and I’m not going to go through this asshole-prep again. Goddamn, I hate butt plugs.”
“It’s going to be fine, sis.”
“This whole conversation is just...wrong.”
“Why? We’re all adults here,” Jules says, “beside, ass-fucking is no big deal, it’s the ‘new vanilla.’“
“For hell. If it’s the new ‘vanilla,’ I don’t what to know what the chocolate is.”
Jules shakes her head. “No, you don’t girlfriend.”
“It’s wrong because my ‘little sister’ is giving me advice about being fucked in the ass.”
“Lex, who cares? It’s not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be.”
“You haven’t seen Jaxson’s penis.”
“Well, all I can tell you is it feels fucking fantastic,” Lane says.
We all give him a dirty look.
He raises his hands. “Just saying.”
“Babe,” Sam says, “didn’t your mom need help with party decorations or something?”
“I don’t think so.”
Sam lifts a brow.
“All right. I’ll go help her do...something.” He kisses Sam on the cheek. “I fucking miss all the good stuff,” he say-pouts as he leaves us.
“Lex,” Sam tells me, “you don’t know how lucky you are.”
I shake my head in confusion.
“I lost my asshole virginity my junior year at some frat party. I was drunk off my ass and I didn’t even get the guy’s name.” She pauses for a minute. “On second thought, maybe it was good thing that I was drunk...numb the pain and all that.”
“Not really helping here,” Jules says.
Jules pats my hand. “The first time will be awkward and painful.” She pauses. “Especially until he gets past the ‘ring of fire.’“
Holy fucking hell! “There’s a ‘ring of fire?’ What the hell is the ‘ring of fire?’“
Sam nods in agreement. “Yeah, I hear you girlfriend. Even wasted, I still felt the old ‘ring of fire.’“
“Did you know that June Carter Cash wrote the lyrics to that song? Not Johnny.” Jules says. “I just wonder...?”
“Not helping here!” I yell-spout.
“Okay, I know something that will help. Let me tell you about my first butt-fucking,” Jules says.
I’m not sure I want to hear this. Who the hell I’m I kidding? I want to know. God, help us all.
“Okay, tell away.”
“Steven Sims,” she says. “We were first year law student study partners and fuck buddies. One day he calls me and says that, ‘he wants to take our relationship to a new level.’ I immediately panic and think that he wants to start dating or something. I thought why in the hell does he want to ruin a perfectly good relationship. Anyway, I reluctantly invite him over to my apartment thinking; at least, I was going to get one last good fuck out of him. However, I was relieved and surprised when he explained that he was referring to ‘ass fucking’ as the ‘new level.’ We were both asshole virgins. Steven had mentioned a few times that he’d like to try it. I, on the other hand, could have gone either way. I was curious but I was content with our ‘neapolitan relationship.’“
She pauses, as if she’s thinking about the good-old days before asshole fuckery. She continues. “Two weeks later we met at my apartment and I must say, the guy came prepared. He brought all kinds of special lubes and ass fucking condoms. But I’ll admit, that even I, was nervous. I was into the finger thingy, but there is a big difference between a finger and a dick. He prepares me with lots of lube and finger fucking, then he enters me and all is well until the ‘ring of fire.’“
Sam gives her a sympathetic look.
Christ Almighty, I can’t do this.
Jules continues but I don’t hear what she says because I remain stuck on the “ring of fire.”
Until she says, “I thought I was going to die.”
I look at her in a panic. “Wait! What? Sorry, I was stuck on the ‘ring of fire.’“
She shakes her head.
“Please,” I beg-whine.
“Alright. I’ll start again from the ‘ring of fire.’ He pushed past the ‘ring of fire.’“
She looks at me. “Are you with me?”
I nod and she continues.
“Past the ‘ring’ it was uncomfortable but not painful. When his cock was fully seated in my asshole, he didn’t move, giving me time to accommodate and breathe. After a minute
or two, he starts to whine that he has to move. I give him the okay, but tell him to take it slow. So he does and I start getting into it—you know, turned on. It felt okay having him up my ass, but what really started to turn me on were the sounds and the words that were coming out of his mouth. I’d never heard anything like it. He moans out that he’s died and gone to heaven and seen or touched God or some kind of shit. But as he continued touching God, my hole began to burn in hell. I could feel my asshole tighten and swell around him. His moaning turned into chants of loving me forever, some very creative marriage proposals, and if I wouldn’t marry him he would still name his first born, Jules. Boy or girl, it didn’t matter. It was going to be a ‘Jules.’ But while he is naming his kid after me, I’m beginning to tear up. Not from the sentiment, but from the burning sensation. I knew it would be uncomfortable and a little scary the first time, but holy hell; something had gone horrible wrong—for me anyway. Soon, I was so swollen that when he tried to pull back his cock got stuck. He moaned and groaned out in pure orgasmic ecstasy as I moaned and cried out in pure living hell.”
“Holy mother of all,” I whisper.
Jules shakes her head and continues. “Thank fuck. He finally comes and after a couple of minutes of incomprehensible muttering, he emerges from his after orgasmic coma and realizes that my cries are not of joy, but are cries of agony. He looks down at my hole and declares that ‘my ass has grown balls’ and ‘my ass cheeks are one big enormous hive’. I scream for him to pull out, but he’s stuck. He’s all but glued into my butt. Finally, after several agonizing tries, he frees himself.”
“Oh my God, I breathe out. The ‘special’ lube.”
She nods. “I scream at him to read the label. When he says ‘eucalyptus,’ I yell for him to help me dress and get me to the emergency—stat.”
“You’re allergic to eucalyptus?” Sam asks.
“Very,” Jules tells her.
I look at Jules, wanting to laugh, but knowing I should be crying.
“Steven gets me to hospital and checks me in. The intake nurse asks us to take a seat and I remember yelling at her and calling her a sadistic bitch and bunch of other stuff that I can’t recall. By now the hives are all down my legs and I can barely walk. When my continued profanities become slurred, Steven can take no more. He picks me up and rushes me past the intake desk yelling that, ‘if someone didn’t see me now he was going to sue the hospital.’ They called security and then he pulled out the big guns. He said, ‘he was going to call his uncle who was on the board, and his grandfather who’s foundation was funding the west building expansion.’“