Say It with a Strap-On (2 page)

Carly
hurriedly dumped the contents of a plastic Target shopping bag on the
bathroom counter. Bottles of shampoo and deodorant and lotion rolled
onto the floor. She grabbed the lotion and, still holding the
shopping bag, moved into the adjacent bedroom. The bright sunlight
on the white sheets of the unmade bed was blinding, yet in Carly's
mind it was nighttime and candles lit the room. Kneeling alongside
the bed, she slipped the shopping bag between the mattress and box
springs with the open end facing outward.

"Hurry,"
Jenna urged.

For
a figment, you're one impatient bitch
.
She squirted a generous dollop of the lotion into her left hand and
smeared it onto the phallus, wiping the remainder on her thigh. It
smelled lightly of bananas and coconut, vaguely reminiscent of
tropical locales. Carly closed her eyes and grasped the edge of the
mattress for balance as she eased her cock into the bag's opening.
With tantalizing slowness, she ground her hips against the bed,
feeling the base of the cock pushing back against her sex.

"Yes,
Carly!"

The
real world disappeared and she knelt between Jenna's spread legs.
The memory of her intoxicating scent flooded Carly's mind. She
flicked the vibrator's ON switch and adjusted the speed to a low,
pulsing hum. Thrusting deeply into her friend's cunt as the smaller
shaft teased her clit, Carly concentrated on the giving of
pleasure—grinding, circling, pushing. It was in such giving
that Carly received the greatest satisfaction; her own arousal
amplified by the sight and smell and sound of Jenna's obvious
enjoyment.

A
telephone rang in some parallel dimension—far removed from her
passion. Unwilling to be interrupted, Carly pushed it from her
consciousness. Jenna was here, now, and nothing would be allowed to
interfere. She reached inside the harness to spread her lips,
enabling direct contact with her throbbing clit.
Oh,
damn!
With each
thrust, the base of the vibrating shaft pounded her.

"Mmm.
I love how you...fuck...ME!"

Carly
felt her climax building rapidly. Her knees ached, the muscles in
her ass were on fire, and a sheen of sweat coated her body. Jenna's
hands toyed with her breasts, toying with her nipples, and her cries
echoed across the room. Carly couldn't have stopped if she wanted
to; she was free falling into a delicious abyss. Cranking the vibe's
speed to max, Carly growled, "Jenna—lover—come with
me," as her orgasm exploded.

*
* * *

T
he
steam rose from the tap water as Carly lathered and rinsed her new
toy. She really hadn't envisioned it being used without a
partner—without Jenna, specifically—but it now seemed
likely that's all it would ever be: a masturbatory tool. Although
her feelings were still quite raw, Carly had almost come to terms
with the fact that their one night together would probably be their
only night together. Again, the tears filled her eyes, but this time
she fought them back.
Get
a grip, woman!

Carly
wondered, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, if
she could continue to balance reality with fantasy. The
alternative—life without Jenna—terrified her, being the
most painful thing she could imagine. The internal conflict tore at
her heart. Something had to give, and Carly was afraid it would be
their friendship. She sighed as she stuffed the strap-on under a
stack of sweaters in her bureau and reached for the telephone to
order a couple pizzas for an early dinner. It rang just as she
touched it, startling her.

"And
where've you been?" Jenna's voice demanded as soon as Carly
answered.

If
you only knew
,
Carly thought as she said, "Oh...in and out. What's up?"

"Can
you come over for dinner tomorrow? Stephen won't be home 'til late,
and I want some company."

Carly
tried desperately not to read more into the simple dinner invitation
as she responded in the affirmative. "What time do you want
me?" she asked, immediately regretting her choice of words.

There
was a cough and a pause on the other end of the line before Jenna
responded. "Seven-ish. Okay?"

"Sure.
Can I bring anything?"

"Nope.
Got it covered," Jenna said. "Gotta run. See you
tomorrow."

It's
JUST dinner
, Carly
told herself as she punched Pizza Hut's number.
Don't get your hopes up
.

*
* * *

C
arly
knew she set herself up for disappointment, but she couldn't help
fussing over herself in preparation for the evening with Jenna. She
scrubbed, exfoliated, shaved, conditioned, moisturized, buffed,
plucked, brushed, and smoothed. She did not, however, masturbate.
While it would undoubtedly relax her, Carly preferred the sustained
sexual tension. Being with Jenna was enticing under any conditions,
but while horny it was the most exquisite torture.

She
then spent a ridiculous amount of time trying on virtually every pair
of jeans and every sweater she owned in order to look delectable in a
very casual way.
Thong
or no panties? Thong. Front or back hook bra? Front. Perfume?
No. Make-up? Just a touch of mascara and some matte lipstick
.
Her personal checklist complete, Carly prepared dinner for the rest
of the family.

By
the time she fed them and cleaned up the dishes, it was time to
leave. They had a stack of rented action-adventure DVDs and a
bottomless vat of popcorn to keep them entertained. Stopping at the
confectioner, she purchased a small bottle of Amaretto and a half
dozen hand-made chocolate-covered cherries with the stems still
attached. Carly spent the remaining thirty-minute drive indulged in
wicked thoughts of sucking the sticky cherry syrup from various parts
of Jenna's body.

She
pulled in to the driveway a few minutes after seven o'clock. The
anticipation she always felt before seeing Jenna seemed much stronger
than usual. Carly leaned her head back against the headrest, closed
her eyes, and took a deep breath.
Relax!
Just enjoy the company, and don't expect anything
.
With her purchases in hand, she headed for the front door. It
opened before she even reached the porch, and Jenna stepped outside
to greet her.

"You're
late," she teased.

Carly
grinned. "It's good to see you, too."

They
shared a somewhat awkward embrace before heading indoors, where Carly
was greeted by a delicious aroma. "What IS that?" she
asked. "It smells good enough to eat!"

"Hey!
I am not a total waste in the kitchen, I'll have you know. What
you're smelling is broiled scallops
en
brochette
, four
cheese lasagna, and a fresh endive salad with pine nuts and raspberry
vinaigrette. So there!"

"Damn,
woman! Didn't know you had it in you. Oh, and I brought dessert,"
she said as she handed Jenna the small box, "plus something for
our coffee."

"Great.
Dinner'll be ready in a few. Let's have some wine with our
appetizers." Jenna headed toward the kitchen with Carly close
behind. They settled into the breakfast nook with their wine—a
dry white—and the skewered scallops. Jenna was clearly on
edge, but Carly could only speculate as to the reason. As they
chatted about everything but what most needed to be discussed, Carly
convinced herself that Jenna only extended the dinner invitation in
order to put a stop to their nascent affair. The thought made her
achingly sad.

The
wine went down very smoothly, and Carly could feel its effects as she
stood to refill their glasses with the last of the bottle. It
loosened her tongue a bit; made her more daring.

"The
critics are saying that '
Boiling
Point
' will sweep
the Oscars this year," she said, knowing the mere mention of
that movie would expose the thousand pound gorilla in the room.

Jenna
stared into her wine glass for a long moment. "Did you tell
him?" she finally blurted.

"Tell
who what?"

"Tell
Mark about what happened between us last weekend," Jenna replied
incredulously. "What else?"

Carly
frowned, puzzled. "Um, no. Was I supposed to? And," she
continued, "when you say it that way, you make it sound like
some freak accident. It wasn't."

Jenna
downed the rest of her wine in one gulp. "Are you
gonna
tell him?"

"I
wasn't planning on it, but I will if it's that important to you. I
really I don't see what purpose it would serve—unless, of
course, we're going to run away together. Somehow, I just don't see
that happening. Did you tell Stephen?"

"Not
yet, but I'm going to. I...We...He..." Jenna's shook her head,
unable to finish.

"Look,"
Carly said, "from my perspective this is just between the two of
us. I know my husband. He would react as if his entire world was
falling apart. I'd just as soon avoid that, if possible, for the
kids' sake."

Jenna
looked pensive as she weighed Carly's words. "I don't know how
Stephen will react, but I know I have to tell him."

"Newton's
third need not apply here, you know. Love, at least in my book, is
not an action that must be balanced with an 'equal and opposite'
reaction."

"I
certainly hope he sees it that way, because I..." Jenna stopped
mid sentence as the oven timer sounded. She smiled, as if given a
reprieve. "Dinner's ready."

As
Jenna served the lasagna, Carly tried to figure out what she'd been
about to say. Jenna, on the other hand, seemed content to just let
the subject drop. They shared another bottle of wine over an
excellent dinner, and neither felt any pain as they cleaned up the
dishes. The giggles swept over them, and they found something funny
in every subject.

"Here,"
Jenna said as she tied up the garbage bag. "Run this out to the
trash can while I start the coffee."

"Oh,
so now you're bossing me around?" Carly teased as she picked up
the bag.

Jenna
laughed, but there was an edge to her voice when she replied. "Damn
straight—and hurry back."

The
cool night air cleared Carly's head a bit as she picked her way
around the side of the garage. She couldn't decide how much of her
buzz stemmed from the wine and how much came from the proximity to
Jenna. The motion-sensing spotlight flickered on as she rounded the
corner.
Halfers
,
she decided, opening the trashcan and lifting the bag to drop it
inside. The light shone directly into the can, which was empty but
for a small box. The return address jumped out at her: M+C, Inc.

"Some-one's
been shop-ping," Carly teased in a sing-song voice as she
reentered the house, looking around for Jenna who was no longer in
the kitchen. "What'd you get?"

Jenna
called from down the hall. "You weren't snooping in my trash,
were you?"

"Kinda
hard to miss, given that I...um, patronize the same store. So, are
you gonna tell me what you got?" she asked, kicking off her
shoes.

Carly
waited for a response—and waited. She opened her mouth to ask
again when Jenna finally said, "No. I'm gonna show you. C'mon
back—and grab that dessert on your way."

Damn!
Don't have to tell me twice
,
she thought as she snatched the box of chocolates and the bottle of
liqueur from the counter and practically ran down the hallway.

"In
fact," Carly said as she rounded the corner, "if I didn't
know better, I'd swear that box was left there on purpose." The
room was lit by a single candle. Jenna sat with her back to the door
on a low velvet-padded bench, pulled from its home at the foot of her
bed into the center of the room. Her clothes were strewn across the
floor and she wore a silky, lightweight bathrobe.

Carly
hesitated only long enough for the scene to register, then crossed
the room in two long strides. Placing the bottle and box on the
nearby vanity, she lifted Jenna's hair and bent to kiss the back of
her neck. "You smell good," she purred as she pushed the
robe off one shoulder. "And you taste good, too."

Jenna
tilted her head and sighed, surrendering to the sensations. "Damn
you, Carly. What have you done to me?"

Reaching
into the box on the vanity, Carly extracted one of the
chocolate-covered cherries. She ran it lightly over Jenna's bare
shoulder, softening the chocolate slightly before piercing the shell
to allow the thick syrup to trickle slowly over Jenna's collarbone
and down her chest. "I've done," she said as she followed
the syrup with her tongue, "nothing to you—mmm—that
you didn't want done."

Carly
circled the bench, never losing contact, and pulled Jenna's robe off
the other shoulder, exposing her breasts. She wiped her sticky
fingers on Jenna's erect nipples and thoroughly laved each clean,
teasing and sucking. Jenna watched with rapt attention, leaning back
on her palms and expressing her pleasure with whispered exclamations
punctuated by an occasional gasp when Carly gently bit.