by Carla Blake
“This? Oh, it’s the giblets out of the turkey. It says here you can feed them to your cat if you cook them soft enough.”
“ But you haven’t got a cat.”
“No, but next door does. I thought he might like them.”
“I’m sure he will, but why are you bothering? You might as well just give him the lid off the cream for all the thanks you’ll get. Come on hon, it’s Christmas morning. We should be in front of the TV eating chocolate and drinking crappy wine, not standing out here choking to death on chicken innards.”
Kate switched off the gas. “You know.” She said, flinging her wooden spoon into the sink. “You’re right, sod the giblets. I’ve got a much better idea. Come into the lounge. I’ve got your first Christmas present all ready.”
It didn’t need much unwrapping. Instructing Rachel to sit on the sofa and not to move, Kate then stood inches in front of her and slowly peeling away her bathrobe, revealed a tiny scarlet bra and matching panties.
“Happy Christmas, babe.” She purred seductively, wiggling her hips. “ I hope you like them because they took ages to find. And they’re ed-i-ble!”
Afterwards, they lay in a satisfied heap on the sofa. The bra and panties in pieces, half eaten and half torn away in Rachel’s desire to get at Kate. She could still taste the fresh tang of strawberry now, mixed with the more musky flavour of pussy juices she had scooped from Kate’s liquid slit and smeared across her breasts before licking it off. The whole thing had been erotic and sensual and the memory of it made her want her more.
Kate, though, didn’t have time. She was sorry, she said, and God, if there was time, she would adore to make love with her again, but there was the turkey to baste and the spuds to peel and if they wanted to eat this side of Boxing Day, then she’d have to get a move on. And maybe they should think about getting dressed? Eating Christmas dinner in the nude doesn’t seem right somehow.
Dinner was a riot and the turkey cooked to perfection despite Kate’s lack of faith in Nigella’s instructions, but the sprouts were hard and when Kate stuck them in the microwave in an effort to soften them up, they subsequently blew up and plastered the inside with pale green leaves. Nigella got the blame for that one too, just as she got the blame for the lumpy gravy that refused to pour properly and for the wooden spoon Kate snapped whilst trying to beat it smooth. The crackers refused to go off as well, and the table ended up covered in unrolled cardboard whilst Rachel and Kate resorted to shouting ‘bang!’ before delving through the rubbish for the plastic gift.
The 5p Kate had hidden in the Christmas pudding didn’t materialize either and after rooting through the entire pudding with spoons, they were forced to come to the slightly worrying conclusion that one of them must have swallowed it.
And then the doorbell rang.
Rachel flinched, which was unfortunate for her, because Kate spotted it.
“Stop it!” She said sternly, taking Rachel’s hand. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not Simon, okay? It’s probably carol singers, or someone collecting for charity. But I guarantee you, it’s not Simon!”
Rachel swallowed. “ I know.” She said, looking pale. “And I’m sorry. I know it’s not Simon. But.. it’s Christmas day! Who calls on Christmas day?”
Polly stood on the doorstep, wrapped up against the chill in a coat, scarf and gloves and clutching two carrier bags filled with goodies plus a Poinsettia half falling out of its pot. Smiling sheepishly when Rachel and Kate answered the door, she asked if she could come in?
“I’m so sorry about landing on you like this.” She offered once she was inside and handing her coat to Kate and the plant to Rachel. “But mum and dad both have horrible colds and as neither of them felt the slightest bit like celebrating Christmas I thought I’d come home and enjoy myself with people who aren’t sneezing germs all over me.”
“But why didn’t they call you before you left?” Rachel asked, once Polly was safely shepherded into the lounge and in front of the fire. “To go all that way and then have to come straight back.”
“I know.” Polly said. “But the bloody phone lines were down, you know what it’s like up there. Lines go down at the drop of a hat and it takes flippin’ ages to get anyone to fix them. And the mobile reception’s crap. I went right up to the top of the hill to try and call you but I still couldn’t get even one bar of service.”
“Sounds positively primitive.” Kate sympathized. “ I’d hate to have to drive all that way back on Christmas morning. Did you get stopped by the cops much?”
“Twice. Although one of them was quite nice, or he would have been if he hadn’t kept banging on about how sorry he was that my folks were ill. Anyone would think he knew them or something. Anyway, I’m really sorry to just dump myself on you guys, but I didn’t want to spend Christmas on my own. Hope I’m not ruining any of your plans.”
“Course not!” Kate said, waving Polly’s concerns away. “We’ve already had sex.”
They fed her dinner, although they didn’t include the sprouts, and as luck would have it, Polly managed to pull the one cracker that lived up to its name. She also found the missing 5p, firmly stuck to the back of the spoon Kate had originally used to serve the pudding with, and after several glasses of wine and a large brandy each, none of them could imagine how they would have got through the day if Polly hadn’t been there.
“ I got a hat.” Polly said, once they’d left the dining table and wobbled, slightly unsteadily, into the lounge. “Did I tell you? It’s a red one. Matches my coat.”
“I bet you look really good in it too.” Rachel slurred. “You.. rotten cow.”
“Not… a cow. You can borrow it if you want.”
“I can look a right tit in it you mean. Hats hate me.”
“No they don’t!” Polly burped. “What about that black one you borrowed. You looked… okay in that.”
“I looked like I was off to a funeral.”
“What funeral?” Kate asked, wandering in from the kitchen carrying large mugs of coffee and a tin of biscuits tucked under her arm.
“No one’s.” Rachel said. “It’s Polly’s hat.”
“Polly’s hat’s having a funeral? Why are you burying a hat?”
“We’re not.” Rachel insisted. “We’re.. er.. what were we talking about again?”
Rachel had sobered up by the evening, thanks to the copious amount of strong coffee she and Kate had consumed over the course of the afternoon, and by the time 9 o’clock came round and Polly had been to the toilet yet again – she had stuck to drinking water all afternoon, claiming it was flushing away toxins – it was certainly flushing away something - Rachel had such a raging headache that she couldn’t even look at the Christmas cake Kate wheeled out without feeling sick.
Rubbing her head, she’d pushed her plate away and got up. “I’m sorry guys.” She said, looking miserable. “I know it’s Christmas night and everything, but this bloody headache is killing me. I’ve gotta go to bed.”
Kate looked distraught. “Oh, babe.” She said. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything you need? Want me to come up with you?”
“No, It’s okay, you stay and keep Polly company. I just need to shut my eyes.”
Polly waited for Rachel to climb the stairs and then she turned to Kate.
“She’s potty about you, you know.” She said, once they’d heard the bedroom door close. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so happy.”
“That’s nice.” Kate smiled back, pouring more coffee. “I love her too.”
“So everything’s alright then is it?”
Kate looked up at her. “Yes, everything’s fine. Why? Has Rachel said something?”
“Only that she’s really happy.”
“So?”
“So I’m probably being an overprotective busybody, but after Simon..”
Kate sighed h
eavily. “Him again!” She breathed. “You know, that bloke is really starting to get on my nerves! It doesn’t matter how many times Rachel tells me he’s out of her life, he just keeps popping up again like a bad, bloody penny! And another thing, I know you probably didn’t mean it, but I really don’t appreciate you comparing me with him!”
“I wasn’t! It’s just after all the crap he put Rachel through...”
“You’re making sure I don’t do the same thing. Charming!”
“No Kate. Wrong end of the stick again, that’s not what...”
“Spare me.” Kate said, waving a hand. “I know what you mean, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to do the same. I love her, Polly. I really do, but all this third degree stuff, it’s gotta stop okay? I’m not gonna hurt her. I’m not going to humiliate her in public and I’m not going to shut her in cupboards or do anything else to upset her, alright?”
“I know.”
“So why don’t you believe me? Or is there something else you’re not telling me? What is it Polly? Has Simon said something else?”
“Not exactly.”
“But..?”
Polly shifted in her seat. “To be honest, I don’t know.” She admitted. “And it’s not anything he’s said so much, at least not recently. It’s just that when Rachel was going out with him, he was always so bloody possessive! She only had to look at another bloke and he’d give her three shades of shit, and once, when he was dropping her off home I heard him telling her that she wasn’t to leave the house without his permission and that he was going to check her mobile when they next met so he could see who she’d been calling.”
“Nice.” Kate said, looking grave. “But that still doesn’t explain why she claws the ceiling every time his name is mentioned.”
“Well, he also said, and more than once, that if she ever decided to finish with him he would make her life a living hell. She was his and only his.”
“Or if he couldn’t have her then no one could.”
“Exactly.”
“Then no wonder she’s jumping at shadows. Poor Rach.”
Boxing morning and Rachel woke to an empty bed. Her headache had thankfully gone, as had Kate, who judging by the smoothness of her pillow, clearly hadn’t made it into bed at all.
“You’re so bad.” She yawned, pushing aside the duvet and shuddering when the colder air of the bedroom pressed against her skin. “Where are you? Not bunked in with Polly I hope?”
It didn’t seem likely. Polly had been on the water all afternoon so it was doubtful she’d got drunk enough to inadvertently stumble into bed with Kate, and even Kate at her worst was unlikely to forget where her own bedroom was. So where was she?
She wasn’t with Polly. The door to the spare room had been left open and it was only a matter of seconds – no soul searching here- before she’d tossed Polly’s privacy aside and peered in, relieved to discover Polly was still fast asleep and alone.
She found Kate in the lounge. Unconscious and draped over the back of the sofa, and for some inexplicable reason, wearing shoes. She was also dribbling down the cushions, and it was only once Rachel had gently wiped her mouth with a tissue and lovingly told her that she was a disgusting drunk, that she stirred enough to speak, although it wasn’t anything intelligible.
Nor did she take too kindly to being moved and constantly batting Rachel off with her hands, she moaned that her legs hurt and that her head was killing her.
“Well it serves you right.” Rachel scolded, once she’d laid her on the sofa rather than draped across it. “You should have come to bed instead of falling asleep here. And why are you wearing shoes?”
“Cat.” Kate mumbled.
“Cat?” Rachel echoed. “What cat? Oh, don’t tell me you were trying to feed it the giblets?”
“Yeah.. Giblets. Didn’t have no cream.”
“Don’t have no sense more like. God, Kate. Look at you.”
Kate couldn’t look, so Rachel obligingly took a picture of her on her mobile, intending to confront her with the horrible evidence the minute she sobered up enough to open her eyes.
In the meantime Polly appeared, wearing a Winnie the Pooh nightshirt and a very guilty expression.
“Are you responsible for that?” Rachel asked, nodding towards a snoring Kate who was once again dribbling over the sofa cushions. “Look at it. I’m supposed to fancy that for Heaven’s sake, though God knows how I’m going to manage it now. It’s horrible.”
“You’re right, it is.” Polly said, pulling a face. “God, she hasn’t been there all night has she? I’m so sorry, Rach. She said she was going to bed.”
“Clearly not.”
“Well, I thought she was, although she did keep going on about a chicken and cats. Why’s she wearing shoes?”
Kate woke a little after eleven, clutching her head and threatening to throw up if anyone started nagging her. Rachel duly fetched a bowl and after a lot of gentle persuasion finally managed to get a cup of tea down her. Polly, meanwhile, made toast and fed Kate small slices, laughing when Kate chewed with about as much enthusiasm as she would a slice of lino.
“I am never going to drink again.” Kate announced once her head had stopped spinning. “Even my bloody teeth hurt and why am I wearing my best shoes?”
“Apparently you were going to feed giblets to the cat next door.” Rachel said patiently. “And I think you must have done because I can’t find them in the kitchen.”
“Tried the bin?”
“Yep and there not there.”
“Why does it matter?” Polly sighed, looking perplexed. “It’s only a cat and it’s Boxing day! Another day off work. We should be breaking open the booze and partying, not worrying whether some manky cat has got his Christmas bonus.”
Kate looked at her with red rimmed eyes. “Are you mad?” She said miserably.
The rain had started up again.
Huddled beneath the duvet, with Kate beside her and the huge Polar bear draped across her feet, Rachel stared into the darkness and wondered if they would ever have a white Christmas again? They’d been plenty when she was growing up, she was sure of it. Huge drifts of the stuff that had built up outside the French doors and needed to be shoveled away before they could reach the back garden and the pile of coal her parents kept heaped in the shed. She remembered, too, that she had loved going to school when it was snowing, her shiny, black shoes dusted with frosting as she’d kicked her way through the crisp, sparkling layers and tried to walk where no one else had, all the time thinking about the giant snowman she was going to build the minute she got home. It had been fun then. Magical. Something to look forward to.
Now they never had snow. Just rain. Cold, wet, miserable rain.
“You asleep babe?”
Kate’s voice was soft in the darkness.
“No.” Rachel said, rolling over onto her back.
“Me neither. Think I slept too much earlier. What you thinking about?”
“Not a lot. Just the way it’s a shame we don’t have snow any more. How about you?”
“Oh, I’m thinking about how you’re lying next to me, naked.”
Rachel smiled. “And is that a bad thing?”
“Not from where I’m lying. Rachel?”
“Yes.”
“Can I kiss you?”
They made love. Slowly and almost shyly, as though it were their first time.
In the darkness, the rain pitter-pattered against the window and the Polar bear toppled onto the floor as Rachel moved to lie on top of Kate.
Her skin felt warm and smooth, her nipples hard against her own as she deliberately rubbed herself against Kate’s pussy and felt her hips rise to meet her.
They kissed, long and deep. Exploring mouths whilst their hands buried themselves in each other’s hair. Rachel rolled off and Kate reached for her hand, p
lacing it on her stomach where Rachel followed the rhythm of her breathing before kissing her again and trailing her fingers down to Kate’s fluff where they buried themselves in the soft, velvet curls before delving deeper. Kate gasped, and Rachel, stroking her slit, stopped just short of entering her.
“Fuck me.” Kate whispered and Rachel slid into the warm wetness, gently pushing into the opening of her cunt and telling Kate she loved her.
“ I.. love you too…” Kate gasped. “Oh, God, Rach, fuck me! Gonna come!”
She came. And Rachel loved her. Fucked her. Stroked her and brought her off.
Then she kissed her again. Her mouth. Her neck. Her breasts. The soft, warm well of her pussy, moist and plump from their love making.
Kate sighed. “Thank you.” She said, when at last she could speak. “You sure know how to do me, babe. That was wonderful.”
“ Welcome.” Rachel smiled, kissing her. “I adore your body.”
“My body adores you!” Kate replied. “God, you’re a brilliant lover. Come here. Let me kiss you.”
Kate kissed her. Covering her skin. She kissed her chest and then around her breasts. She fingered her nipples until Rachel literally begged her to put them in her mouth and then she kissed them too, moving from one to the other and flicking them with her tongue, whilst Rachel writhing and moaning, all but forced Kate’s hand down her stomach and between her legs. Then Kate touched her, but she didn’t stay long. Instead she lightly ran her fingers across Rachel’s pussy lips before lifting away and licking her fingers.
“You taste wonderful.” She said, kissing Rachel’s breast. “But I can make it better.” And rolling over, she delved beneath the bed, dragged out the cardboard box and selected a vibrator.
Rachel stretched. “I hope that’s for me.” She said, spreading her legs wide. “I love to fill full.”
“You will be.” Kate said and turning it on, she fed the vibrator in as far as it would go before starting to pump.
Rachel moaned, and turned on by the chilly plastic buried deep within the warmth of her cunt, begged Kate to fuck her harder. “Please babe.” She implored. “Give it to me. Make me come!”