by Tara Sivec
I slid my hands around to Claire’s sides and up the front of her body. My palms moved in circles around her breasts, and I felt her nipples harden beneath my hands. She pushed herself down harder on my dick and it made us both let out a gasp. Fuck, I wanted to be inside of her but it wasn't something we could do out here on the couch with a four-year-old down the hall.
Her hands retracted from the hair on the back of my head and she pushed them up under her shirt until they rested on top of my own. She squeezed my hands and helped me put more pressure on the soft flesh that I would give my left nut to put my mouth on right now.
Okay, maybe not my left nut.
Or the right one for that matter.
Shit, forget the nuts. I just really, really wanted to lick her boobs.
The kiss deepened as we worked together, cupping and stroking her breasts. Her thighs squeezed my hips tightly and she whimpered into my mouth as she ground herself harder against me. Making Claire have an orgasm every single day was my new mission in life. The sounds she made and the way she moved against me were heaven, but I needed to touch her. I needed to feel how much she wanted this.
Just as I had that thought, she pushed my hand off of one breast and down the front of her body until both of our hands slid under the waistband of her yoga pants.
"Fuck, you're not wearing any underwear either," I muttered as she pushed my hand through her soft curls and my fingers easily slid through her wetness. She couldn't do much more than moan softly as I coated my fingers with her. Claire’s hand stayed on top of mine and showed me when to increase the pressure or slow down the speed. It was the hottest fucking thing ever to have my fingers sliding through her heat while her small, soft hand guided my way.
With her other arm wrapped tightly around my neck, she flung her head back so her neck was exposed. I easily slid two fingers inside of her and kissed my way down her neck while my thumb moved in quick circles around her most sensitive spot. Her hips bucked against my hand while I started moving my two fingers quickly in and out of her. I held my thumb in place so that the motions of her hips made her slide back and forth over the pad of my thumb and she could set the pace for her release.
I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her down for a searing kiss. As soon as our lips and tongues collided she exploded. Her moans and whimpers were muffled by my mouth which was a pretty good thing. I had a feeling she would be screaming if our mouths weren't fused together.
She rode my fingers while I kept them inside of her tight heat until every last drop of her orgasm surged through her. She pulled away from my mouth and collapsed against my chest with her face nestled in the crook of my neck.
My fingers stayed deep inside her while she caught her breath, and I felt every single pulse of her. Claire lifted her head and spoke with a dreamy look on her face.
"Give me two seconds to recover and I will suck you like..."
"Ga ga ah-ah-ahhhh, rama llama llama, want your bad bromance."
The sound of Gavin singing at the end of the hall froze us in place. He was headed this way and we both turned to stone.
Claire stared at me with wide eyes and I couldn't move my fingers from her vagina.
Why the fuck couldn't I move my fingers from her vagina?!
I wanted them there twenty-four hours a day under normal circumstances, but I started to see the error of my ways. There are some situations that do not condone having your fingers in a vagina. Like when you're getting an oil change, having your teeth cleaned, or when your four-year-old is in the room.
"Whatcha doin'?"
The only saving grace was the fact that the couch faced away from the hallway. Right now all he could see was the back of my head and Claire's mortified face.
"Um, Daddy needed a hug," Claire replied.
"Ooooh I wanna give Daddy a hug!"
"NO!" we both screamed.
Claire looked down at her lap and then back up to my face with a look of panic.
I just shrugged. I refused to move my fingers now. What if Gavin wanted to shake my hand? I know that's not a very four-year-old thing to do but Jesus H. Christ! He would need therapy for years after that.
I tipped my head back as far as it would go, so I could see an upside-down Gavin standing there absently kicking his toe into the carpet.
"Hey, buddy, can you do me a favor? In my room on my dresser is a whole bunch of money. Can you carry it into your room and put it into your new piggy bank?" I suggested.
His eyes got big and he started bouncing on his feet.
"Yes! I LOVE money!"
With that, he turned and ran down the hall. We could hear the jingle of change as he scooped it off my dresser and took it to his room.
We finally relaxed when we realized it would keep him busy long enough for us to get our act together, or at least for me to get my fingers out of Claire’s vagina.
She slid off my lap and collapsed next to me on the couch while we listened to the clunk of coins being dropped into the ceramic pig and another verse of "Bad Bromance".
"I really need to teach him some better music. Like Zeppelin or The Beatles," I said as I shifted the problem in my pants to a more comfortable position.
"Actually, I was thinking about recording our own Kidz Bop album. Except I'd called it Kidz Bop - The Forbidden Songs," she said with a smile.
"That's a stellar idea. That kid has been loafing off of you long enough. It's time he gets a job."
She nodded with a serious face.
"This is true. He's already got "S&M" down pat. Maybe we could throw in a little "Golddigger" from Kanye."
"I think he might sell more if he did some rap," I said. "'Bitches Ain't Shit' or 'Ninety-Nine Problems.' We just need to teach him a little more attitude."
While we laughed, Gavin ran back to the living room.
"You got eleventy-seven nickels, Daddy-O. Go buy me some beef turkey for lunch, dicky."
I guess we could skip the attitude lessons.
***
As the next couple of days went by, all I could do was thank God for Carter. He helped me with everything he could and took Gavin off my hands every single night when he got home from work. Well, almost every night. He took a night off when Liz offered to keep Gavin overnight so we could finally have some alone time without the fear of another dick kick. I swore Liz to secrecy with that story but I'm pretty sure Carter knew the jig was up when she started asking him random questions like "Hey Carter, have you seen that new movie "Donkey Punch" yet?" or "Claire and I were thinking about taking a kick-boxing class, what do you think Carter?"
I was happy to find out that the sex between us was just as awesome when we were alone and didn't have to fear that a child would walk in on us at any moment. I earned five gold stars that night in "Blow Jobs 101" and did not get kicked out of class. Or in the face.
I drastically cut my hours back at the bar, so I had more time to get everything ready for the store opening. Basically, right now, I worked when I could. If I had a few hours of free time, I gave them a call to see if they could use me. Even though it wasn't my dream job and I never planned on being there forever, it was still bittersweet not spending every night there. The Fosters had been good to me, giving me a job, no questions asked, when I showed up five years ago as a college drop-out and pregnant.
I cried like a baby when I called up there last night and T.J. told me they didn't need me. That bar was my home away from home and held so many memories. My water broke in the storage room when I was grabbing a bottle of vodka. Gavin took his first steps over by the door when my dad brought him by for lunch one afternoon. But most importantly, it was where I found Carter again.
The bar was right down the street from the store, and I knew I'd still spend a lot of time in there; it was just strange not to be there every day. I'd be lying if I said a big part of my sadness wasn't also due to the absence of P.O.R.N in my life. However, T.J. came through with flying colors while I stocked the front cooler of my store with ch
ocolate last night. I heard the door chime behind me and figured it was Carter stopping by with Gavin. As soon as I turned around I was hit right in the face with three ping-pong balls. T.J. screamed something about how I'd never had that many balls smack me in the face while I was sober and then turned and ran out the door.
I spent the rest of the evening drafting up a couple of new rules for P.O.R.N, one of which included a penalty shot if multiple balls were handled without prior approval. A cup would be placed on a table, a ball would be thrown and if it made it into the cup, you were in the clear. However, if the ball failed to land in said cup, the thrower of the ball had to take a direct shot to the face. I called this the "Cupping of the Balls" rule.
Drew stopped by to help lift a few heavy boxes for me and found a copy of the rules by the register. Three hours later he came back with shirts for everyone that said "I Love P.O.R.N." and made himself an honorary team captain.
Before I even had a chance to be worried about how I would pay my bills until the store started making money, Carter sat me down the night after Gavin and I first spent the night and told me he was going to take over paying for everything until I was up and running. It was the night of our first fight. I had been on my own and provided for Gavin and I all this time. There was no way I wanted to take Carter’s hand-out. My stubborn ass refused to see it from his point of view, hence the big fight. He had missed out on so much, and he felt guilty about that every single day, even though it wasn't his fault. Being able to pay my phone bill and buy Gavin new shoes and pay for his doctor's appointments made Carter feel like he was finally a full part of our lives and not just some guy with the title of "Dad." As independent as I was and as much as I hated the idea of someone paying my way, I couldn't deny him this if it was what he really wanted and it would make him happy. I ended my temper tantrum, agreed to what Carter was asking and then we had hot as hell make-up "phone calls" locked in the laundry room while Gavin watched a movie in the living room.
So, with Carter’s help and my decreased hours at the bar, I was able to get almost everything done a few days before the opening. The only thing left to do this far ahead of time was fold all of the brochures Jenny made for me. Carter took Gavin for the night so I could have some down time with the girls and they could help me with the folding.
Jim and Drew were going to keep Carter company since I would have their women all evening. I had to put my foot down though with Drew. I told him I would buy a tennis racket and go John McEnroe on his ass if my son came home with any new, colorful words.
Liz, Jenny and I were sitting on the floor of my living room surrounded by thousands of folded and unfolded brochures and four empty bottles of wine.
Wait, make that five. I emptied the fifth bottle into Liz’s glass after she jumped up and ran to the bathroom holding her hands between her legs like a toddler because she had to pee so badly.
I got up and walked to the kitchen to grab another bottle of wine. As I passed by the bathroom, I found the door wide open.
"Liz, are you peeing with the door open?"
She looked up at me with crazy, drunk eyes while she swayed back and forth on the toilet and peed.
"Yes. Does it bother you?"
"Only if you fall off the toilet and piss on my floor," I told her as I walked away.
"Fair enough, hairy muff!" she yelled to me.
After I popped the cork on another bottle of wine and refilled everyone's glasses, Liz came back into the living room, shoved the brochures out of the way and lay down on her belly with her chin in her hands.
"Okay, skank whores. Time for a little Truth or Dare," she slurred. "Jenny, what nickname have you given your vagina?"
Jenny blushed and bit her lip, looking down in her lap. After several long minutes of Liz and I goading her, she finally mumbled something that sounded like, "Water."
"Repeat that, please. I don't have dog hearing," I told her.
"You do have a vagina that smells like a dog though," Liz laughed.
"Fuck you, anal warts."
"I call my vagina, Waterford," Jenny said, interrupting the banter between Liz and me.
We turned to her with equal looks of confusion on our faces.
"Explain," Liz said as she took a sip of wine.
Jenny shrugged. "You know, Waterford is like, good dishes and stuff. So, I only let the best eat off of my Waterford."
Liz snorted. "Why don't you just call it China then?"
Jenny thought about this for a minute.
"But, I've never been to China," she replied with a puzzled look on her face.
“Okay, next!" I announced. "Liz, same question. Name that beaver!"
Why is this room tilty?
Liz took another big gulp of her wine.
"Vajingo. As in "maybe the vajingo ate your penis," she said in an Australian accent.
The radio that played from the kitchen finally stopped the sequence of commercials and switched to music.
"I love this song. It really envelopes me," Jenny said dreamily.
"Does it put a stamp on you too?" Liz laughed.
"Yeah, a tramp stamp!" I yelled.
Why am I yelling?
"I don't have a tattoo," Jenny argued.
"It's Claire’s turn and I'm choosing dare," Liz stated.
"Hey, I'm the one that gets to choose," I protested.
"Shut up, whore! I dare you to send Carter a picture of your tits."
"Wait, what did you say?" Jenny asked. "I can't hear you without my glasses on," she mumbled as she poured more wine into her glass. Liz ignored her and scooted across the floor army-style, grabbed my phone that lay in the middle of us and handed it to me. I only hesitated for a second before I snatched it out of her hand and pressed the button for the camera, chugging the rest of my glass of wine for liquid courage.
I lifted my shirt and bra up to my neck, held my arm out in front of me as far as I could and quickly snapped a picture. My shirt and bra were back down and I was scrolling through the contacts in my phone before anyone said anything.
"Holy shit, dude! I just meant a cleavage picture. I didn't need you to whip out the fun bags right in front of us. I have to say though, I'm kind of proud of you right now," Liz said in awe.
"Claire has pretty boobies," Jenny muttered while she looked down the front of her shirt.
I attached the boob shot to a blank text message and typed the words, "We miss you," then hit send.
That was empowering! I felt all sorts of Joan of Arc-like now. But maybe more "The Legend of Billie Jean" movie version of her. Burning at the stake doesn't sound like fun. But I could totally rock a short hair cut and get people to chant "fair is fair" as they follow me and my outlaw friends across state lines. I turned my phone towards Liz and showed her the text.
"Oh, young grasshopper, it is clear you can be taught," Liz said as she wiped a fake tear out of her eye.
"I don't feel very lurid right now," Jenny slurred as she flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling.
"Lucid! It's lucid, Jenny. For fuck's sake, someone get this bitch an Encyclopedia Britannica," Liz yelled from her spot on the floor.
"FAIR IS FAIR!" I yelled as I fist pumped.
I started folding some more of the flyers while Liz crawled over to Jenny and tried to lead her in a Hooked on Phonics boot camp. While Liz made her do push-ups and repeat words back to her, I got up and went to the kitchen to cut up some cheese and grab a plate of crackers.
In hindsight, wielding a cheese grater when my blood type was currently Merlot positive wasn't the best idea.
***
"Kick him in the nut sack!"
I sat down on the couch and rolled my eyes as the UFC fight we watched started a new round.
"Okay, seriously. Enough with the nut kicking talk," I scolded.
Drew looked at me and pouted, "Oh come on, your kid isn't even awake."
I looked behind me where Gavin had fallen asleep on the couch. His little body was draped over the
arm of the couch, his head and arms dangling down towards the floor, his knees pushed into the cushions. How in the hell does he fall asleep like that?
"I'm just trying to save you from the wrath of Claire. Really, it's for your own safety," I told him as I looked at his shirt that showed a couple walking in the sand with the words, "I enjoy long walks on the beach…after anal."
"I'll put my nuts on all of you," Gavin’s muffled voice said from his hanging position off the end.
I looked at Drew pointedly.
"Hey, Carter," Jim said as he walked back in from the kitchen. "Why is Claire sending me a picture of her tits with the words, "Me fish Lou," in it?"
"What?" Drew and I both asked in unison.
Jim held his cell phone out to me as I leaned forward to see it.
"Seriously? Claire’s tits are on that phone?" Drew yelled as he jumped up from the couch and tried to grab the phone before I got to it.
I panicked, flew off the recliner in the corner and onto Drew’s back, wrapping my arms around his neck.
"What the fuck are you doing? Get off my back you dumbass," Drew yelled as he twisted and turned, trying to throw me off.
"Don't you even think about looking at that picture, dick licker," I threatened as I tried holding on to his neck with one arm and reached for Jim’ phone with the other.
The phone suddenly beeped and Jim pulled it towards him, rolling his eyes at what he saw.
Drew stopped moving and we both just stood there. Well, Drew just stood there; I was still hanging from his back like a wet noodle.
"Okay, now Jenny is asking me if I want to eat in China tonight. What the fuck is wrong with your women?"
I dropped off of Drew’s back and Jim handed me his phone. I scrolled to the text from Claire and my jaw dropped.
Yep, those were her tits. Sweet Jesus. I forwarded the text to my phone, you know, so I could ask her about it later...and stuff.
The phone rang in my hands and caller I.D. said it was Liz.
"Go ahead and answer it. You can ask her why Claire is sending me nudey pictures," Jim said with a laugh.