Baumgartner Hot Shorts (16 page)

Daphne got up and wandered into the kitchen, pouring herself more wine while Nan peppered Carrie with questions.

“Oh, Nan, it’s no problem, Daphne and I can decorate it before you all get here... yes, two boxes of presents were delivered yesterday, and we got another notice on the door to pick up some more today... oh, Daphne and I were shopping, so we were out... yes, the weather’s gorgeous... I know, I know... seventy-seven today...”

Carrie answered her mother-in-law, watching Daphne wander around the living room in her black bikini. They’d gone swimming after their shopping trip. Carrie’s hair was wet, her white bikini bottoms still damp.

“So?” Daphne looked at Carrie as she hung up the phone.”Looks like we’re decorating a Christmas tree?”

She nodded. “Looks that way.”

“Well, let’s get our tinsel on!”

The girls went into the storage closet under the stairs and got the artificial tree out, putting it together branch by branch. Nan’s taste in decorations tended toward the tasteful, so the lights were white and blue, as were all the ornaments. By the time they were stringing the white and silver garland, it was around dinner time.

“We’ll have it all decorated by the time Doc gets here,” Carrie said proudly, watching Daphne stretching to put the white star on the top of the tree. She was still in her bikini and it hugged her ass snugly, showing off her curves in all the right places.

“His flight comes in tonight?” Daphne stepped down from the stool and stood back, hands on her hips, red head cocked.

“Yep.”

Daphne picked up her glass of wine, taking a sip. They’d been drinking all afternoon. “Are we picking him up at the airport?”

“He’s taking a shuttle,” Carrie replied. “He doesn’t like me driving at night.”

“He’s so overprotective.” Her friend laughed, rolling her eyes. But then she smiled. “Must be nice.”

“Are you hungry?” Carrie asked. They’d gone shopping that morning to stock the refrigerator and it was full of food.

Daphne’s eyes lit up. “Do we have any of those little chocolate cashews?”

“Such a healthy dinner!” Carrie got them from the top of the refrigerator, opening the canister and handing it over as she came into the living room.

Daphne popped one into her mouth, sucking happily. “God, these are so good.”

“It’s so weird.” Carrie looked up at the tree, shaking her head.

“I know,” Daphne agreed, laughing at the two of them decorating in bikinis. “It feels like Christmas in July.”

“I know what will make it feel like Christmas.”

Daphne watched Carrie as she stretched out on the white carpet. “What are you doing?”

“Come here.” She held a hand out, beckoning Daphne to join her as she wiggled her way under the Christmas tree.

“Weirdo.” Daphne snorted, but she got down on the floor, stretching out on her back beside Carrie. The girls looked up through the branches at the white and blue lights reflecting off the silver and white garland. It was magical.

“Did you used to do this when you were a kid?” Daphne asked.

“Nah, Doc taught me,” Carrie said. “I was lucky if the foster family I was living with had a Christmas tree at all.”

“Damn, I thought my childhood sucked.” Daphne’s hand found hers and she squeezed. “At least my aunt always got me something for Christmas. Of course, she was a hoarder and agoraphobic, so we pretty much had a house full of presents all year round that she ordered from QVC that no one ever got. Except the mice.”

“Jeez.”

“Yeah, it was a fun childhood.” Daphne looked over at her and smiled. The lights shone on her skin, like blue and white tattoos. “But still probably more stable than yours, huh?”

“Probably, “Carrie admitted. She didn’t talk about her childhood much to anyone, even Doc.

“But you sure won the lottery when it came to a husband.”

“I did,” Carrie agreed, meeting her friend’s eyes. “I’m very blessed.”

“Maybe someday I’ll get lucky, too.”

“I hope so. You deserve it.” Carrie stroked her friend’s hand, her wrist, her fingertips just lightly brushing. She felt Daphne shiver. “And in the meantime, maybe I can just share my blessings with you...”

Daphne smiled slowly, slyly. “I had a feeling you might have another agenda when you invited me here.”

“And you came anyway?” she asked, holding her breath.

“I came hoping.”

There was no room under the tree, but somehow they bridged the distance between them, their mouths meeting in a soft caress. The kiss was sweet and gentle and full of promise. They looked at each other under the twinkling lights of the tree and smiled, both of them knowing where things were going.

“I thought we’d get a little head start,” Daphne breathed.

Carrie smiled. “Let’s go upstairs.”

“I’ve got to get the salt water off my skin and out of my hair.” Daphne turned right at the end of the hall, into the bathroom, looking back over her shoulder, the freckles there so kissable it made Carrie’s lips twitch. “Wanna take a shower?”

It was a clear invitation and Carrie took it.

They undressed as Carrie turned on the shower, leaving their bikinis on the floor. Carrie snuck looks at her friend’s body as they busied themselves getting towels and checking the water temperature, pretending they weren’t about to do what they were both contemplating. Doc had been right, Daphne’s nipples were pink, but they weren’t like cherries at all. They were pale and flat, the areolas around them puffy. And Carrie had been right about her being a real redhead—her pubic hair was a dark, wiry auburn, neatly trimmed in a little landing strip.

“Oh, God, that feels so good.” Daphne stepped into the hot shower, steam rising all around her, her head tilting back so she could wet down her red mane, washing her hair. Carrie stood watching, transfixed, as her friend reached for the soap, beginning with her breasts.

Daphne glanced her way, smiling coyly. “Aren’t you coming in?”

Carrie slipped into the shower, closing the privacy-glass door behind her. The water was warm and felt so good that she found herself moaning, too, dipping her head under the showerhead to get fully wet.

Daphne’s lips touched Carrie’s neck, soapy hands moving over her shoulders and down her arms. She let Daphne run her hands over her body, closing her eyes and losing herself in the sensation. She could feel the press of her friend’s full breasts against her back, the curve and slope of her belly, her fingers brushing over Carrie’s nipples, making them instantly hard.

“Let me wash your hair.” Daphne squeezed shampoo into her hands and massaged Carrie’s scalp, washing the salt out, holding her under the needle-like spray until the water ran clean. She didn’t stop there, though, rubbing the bar of white, moisturizing soap over Carrie’s skin, starting in neutral territory, over her shoulders and down her arms, and then moving to more sensitive areas—her breasts, her belly, and finally, her pussy.

“Oh, my God, it’s so smooth,” Daphne whispered, her eyes widening in surprise and delight as her soapy fingers parted Carrie’s pussy lips.

She smiled. “I shaved it—Doc likes it this way.”

“I don’t shave it all,” Daphne said apologetically, sounding regretful.

“It’s pretty.” Carrie didn’t employ her friend’s careful approach. She cupped Daphne’s mound with her hand, rocking her palm. The redhead moaned and opened her thighs a little wider, her mouth parting with pleasure. She was so kissable that Carrie couldn’t resist pressing her lips to Daphne’s, tongue exploring. Their kiss went on and on, their soapy breasts pressed together, hopelessly soft, fingers probing and petting each other’s pussies.

“Let’s go to bed,” Daphne gasped when they parted, her eyes still half-closed. Carrie could feel the slick proof of her friend’s arousal on her fingers.

The girls got out, reaching for their fluffy white towels, warm under the heat lamps overhead. Daphne sat at the vanity and squeezed the excess water out of her hair with her towel, reaching for the blow dryer. Carrie, watched, toweled herself off, seeing Daphne’s gaze on her in the mirror.

“Sorry, I have to dry it.” Daphne spoke over the hum of the hair dryer, the copper returning to her hair as it dried.

“That’s okay.” Carrie spread her towel out on the counter, sliding up to take a seat. She saw Daphne glance at her pussy, a puffy cleft between the swell of her thighs, and parted them a little, letting her see pink.

“Do you want to play with yourself?” Daphne’s fingers lightly stroked the smooth skin of Carrie’s mound. “I’d love to watch.”

She flushed, but she put one foot up on the counter, looking down between her own legs. Her pussy was pulsing, thick with excitement, and she used one finger to circle her clit. Daphne leaned in closer to watch, the blow dryer still pointed toward her red head but all but forgotten as she watched Carrie masturbate.

Daphne’s free hand went between her own legs, parting her pussy lips. She had shaved her labia, leaving just that copper landing strip above. The girls touched themselves, watching each other, and Carrie saw that her friend’s nipples grew darker as they got hard, poking out a little. The sight made her shaky with excitement.

“Oh, hell, it’s dry enough,” Daphne announced, shaking her hair out and turning the blow dryer off, tossing it on the counter, leaning in to bury her face in Carrie’s pussy.

“Oh!” Carrie cried out in surprise but Daphne didn’t hesitate or pull back, instead using her hands to spread her thighs wider, putting Carrie’s other foot up on the counter, too. “Oh, my God, that feels soooo good.”

Carrie glanced over, seeing the abandoned hair dryer, and grinned. “Want me to finish for you?”

She grabbed it, flipping the switch, and pointed it down at her friend’s head. The heat blasted over her pussy as well as Daphne’s ginger tresses. Carrie alternated between drying her own hair and her friend’s, the heat of the blow dryer nothing compared to the fire between her legs.

“Oh, yes,” she gasped, dropping the hair dryer onto the counter, barely remembering to turn it off. “Please, don’t stop. Right there on my clit. You’re going to make me come so fast!”

Daphne seemed to know exactly what she was doing, her tongue focused on Carrie’s clit with lascivious precision. Her tongue lapped over and over, her persistence admirable. Carrie moaned and grabbed her knees, giving her more of her pussy, spreading wide, wider, widest, back arched, mouth twisted with pleasure.

“Gonna come!” she gasped and Daphne went from lick to suck, sending her flying, the rock of her wanton hips almost bucking her off the counter with her orgasm.

“Oh, my God,” Daphne whispered, feathering kisses between Carrie’s legs, over her mound and thighs. “Your pussy tastes so good. It’s so smoooooth.” She kissed it again, trying to suck her little clit back into her mouth, but Carrie squealed in protest, sliding fully off the counter.

“Come on.” Carrie held out her hand.

“Your room or mine?”

“Mine’s closer.” Carrie grinned back over her shoulder. “And there’s a bigger bed. Besides, that’s where we’ll be when Doc gets here anyway.”

“You really think he’ll be okay with this?” Daphne crawled up onto the bed. Carrie watched the swing of her friend’s hips as she moved, seeing a flash of pink between her thighs.

“Trust me,” Carrie replied, climbing up beside her. “It will be the best Christmas present he ever got.”

They rolled toward each other on the bed, limbs twining, tongues meshing, hips shifting on the mattress as if the heat of their pussies could melt into one another. Carrie had forgotten, oh, she had forgotten everything—the swell of a woman’s breast in her hand, the heat of a squishy wet pussy straddling her thigh, the way a woman tasted and smelled, so different from a man. How had she forgotten? How had she ever lived without it?

“Are you sure this is okay?” Daphne whispered, dipping her head down to take one of Carrie’s dark nipples between her lips.

“More than okay.” Carrie stroked the redhead’s slightly damp mass of hair, admiring the smattering of freckles over her friend’s pert nose. “Oh, yes, suck it like that.”

Daphne bathed her nipple in saliva, leaving shining trails from one to the other in the lamp light. Carrie squirmed on the bed, her pussy ready again, aching for more, but she was far more eager to taste Daphne’s juices on her tongue.

“I think it’s your turn,” Carrie admonished, rolling her friend to her back, nuzzling her neck, licking her collarbone, tracing down her clavicle toward her breastbone. Daphne didn’t protest—her greedy fingers were already buried between her own thighs, touching herself.

Carrie stopped at Daphne’s breasts, blowing gently over her nipples, watching the skin around them pucker, her flat nipples rising in response, turning a darker pink. Daphne moaned when Carrie licked one, rolling her tongue around and around, loving the feel of it hardening under her tongue’s basting. Daphne’s fingers moved faster between her legs.

“Let me do that.” Carrie moved down, spreading her friend’s creamy thighs. They were as soft as rose petals under her hands, her pussy lips shaved neatly, leaving the pink of her inner lips exposed. They were fat and protruding, asking to be licked, and Carrie obliged, dipping her tongue in for the first time.