Sadie Hawkins/Royal Thai Navy Day

Slurp

"God, you're such a fucking pervert," Carrie was very clearly trying to suppress a giggle as she strained to watch John over her shoulder and out of the corner of her eye.

Smack!

"Ow!"

Even if Carrie's cry had been genuine, which John strongly suspected it had not been, it would have been worth whatever mild annoyance his slapping of her ass had caused just to get that satisfying sound and sensation. The flesh of her ass grew even warmer under his hand than it had been before the smack as he continued to lap at her asshole. He had, he surmised, probably gotten all of the cum out of it that he was going to get without additional effort, but that was fine with him. He would let her keep the bulk of the hot load he had just finished injecting into her perfect little butthole a minute or so prior and would settle for merely teasing the hole instead. She had, he noted, despite her feigned objection, done nothing more to stop him than give a small, rather encouraging wiggle of that ass, and so she seemed just as pleased with the arrangement as he was.

"You really are a fucking pervert," she smiled, punctuating her statement with another wiggle of that beautiful ass.

"Eh," John replied, drawing up, somewhat reluctantly, onto his knees and wiping the sticky spit from his chin, "you love it."

She took the opportunity to roll onto her back and, in so doing, get a better look at her interlocutor. "I didn't say I don't," she said. "I just said you're a fucking pervert, and that's 100% true."

He lowered himself down on top of her, taking a position between her legs and bringing their bodies close enough together that the heat nearly made up for the lack of clothing. "Takes one to know one, I suppose," he said.

"Maybe," she responded, then brought a hand up to his jaw, looking lovingly into his eyes.

He planted a kiss on her forehead and then pushed away, sitting back up on his knees, taking the opportunity to look around the room for the clothes he had discarded. It was a fairly small bedroom, but Carrie's incomprehensible system of cleanliness gradations on her clothes led to various garments being distributed on the bed, dresser, chair and floor, depending on how close to needing laundering she considered them, plus or minus a factor for her inherent laziness, and all this yielded a rather unkempt space into which clothes discarded in the heat of passion had a tendency to disappear seamlessly. "We should probably get going, though, right?"

She sat up and swung her legs off the bed. "Yes," she answered. "We should have gotten going earlier, but somebody had to get his dick wet first."

He chuckled, "Hey, you kissed me," he replied, "I just came by to pick you up."

"That was a friendly kiss. If you weren't such a perv we wouldn't be scrambling to get dressed and out of here before Chloe gets back." She had located her panties and pulled them on, then began looking around for her other misplaced garments.

John already had his jeans back on and was just looking for his shirt by the time he responded, more automatically at this point than with any conscious thought, "That's not how I recall the situation going down but you know memory... Anyway I still don't see why you're so worried about Chloe finding out about our little hook-ups."

Carrie paused just before pulling on her top and let out a frustrated sigh. "I told you. Girl code."

"Yeah, forgive me if I don't understand the intricacies of girl code," John replied. He had gotten his shirt back on as he spoke. Now where are my socks?

"Yeah, because you're a dumbass," she replied. She finished pulling the top on and sighed again. "I like Chloe, she's my friend. And I'd like to keep it that way." Her tone was one of mild annoyance; she enunciated clearly, pausing between sentences as if explaining to a child. "Chloe dated you. Girls do not like it when you fuck their exes. You, of all people, should know this. Do you remember Linda?"

"Yeah," John responded.

"Yeah, and how did that go, dumbass? How did I react to that?" She scowled adorably at him.

"Not well, let's say," he answered. "But that was you. This is Chloe."

"Uh-huh," Carrie said, getting to her feet. "And I'm a huge bitch, is what you mean to say."

John made a non-committal head gesture.

"And that's fair. And Chloe isn't. So maybe she wouldn't cut your balls off and feed them to some wild animal but that's only because she's a sweetheart with a pure soul. But that's all the more reason not to twist the knife. Do you get it now, dumbass?" She put her hands on her hips, looking at him expectantly.

He sighed. "Yeah, I guess. It's just... I feel bad running around like this. It feels like cheating."

Her expression softened. "Yeah, I get that. Even if it's not. And actually even if it's kind of fucked up that you still think of it that way, like you're still hung up on her. Probably I fucked up when I let you put it in, but what are you gonna do? Hindsight is twenty-twenty, right?"

"Maybe for you," John said. "Even when I look back on things, all I can see is that ass of yours."

"God damn it, John, you're such a fucking asshole," she said, rolling her eyes, but unable to suppress a smile entirely. "Let's just fucking go, alright?"

"Aww, you love it," he replied as he followed her out.

***

"Yeah, so I guess I'm asking, since I don't really want to lug a whole case of wine bottles on the bus, you don't really mind giving me a ride, right?" Carrie did her best to soften the request with a couple of blinks and and exaggerated smile.

He shook his head with a smile and turned his attention back to the road. "Sure," he replied, "although I'll warn you between wine shopping and earlier, I feel like we're getting dangerously close to officially being back together."

"No," she replied immediately, then after a pause in which her face scrunched up as she stared into traffic, "No, right? I mean, it's just a hook-up, right? I was just helping you out when you felt down. We're not, like, dating. I wouldn't, like, tell people we're dating."

"What would you tell people?" he asked, careful not to look too directly at her.

"I don't know," she answered. "Probably nothing. Depends on the person, I guess."

"Always a good sign, I find, to have a relationship status that depends on the observer," he sighed.

"Shut up," she said. "You're getting laid and I'm not asking for anything else from you. And I'm not even engaged." She was quite obviously gauging his reaction to her last remark in the few silent moments before she added, "But if it's weird, we can stop."

He pulled the car to a stop along an all-too familiar road and turned to face her, finding her expression a mixture of too many tangled emotions to pull apart. "No, no," he said, "I mean, we're both not dating anyone. There's no issue here. Besides, we'll probably drive each other crazy enough to stop on our own, anyway, right?"

She let out a tiny laugh, looking down at her painted fingernails for a moment, then back up. "Yeah, plus, I mean, I'm probably going to find somebody who's less of a stupid asshole soon enough."

"Yeah, there's that," he responded, looking out the windshield at nothing in particular.

"Then I guess you're just going to be shit out of luck," she said, her smile slowly failing. She grabbed the shoes she had left on the floor for the drive and slid her dainty feet into them, then reached for the door handle before pausing and looking into his eyes again. "Did you want to come up and say hi or anything?"

He looked out the window, considering the large, gray apartment building, his eyes seeming to move of their own accord, counting out windows until they reached the one he knew to be Riley's. "Nah," he replied.

"You know I don't care if you fuck her, right?" Carrie said, snapping John out of a mini-trance. "Like, I don't judge you for fucking her. And we're not, like, dating. You can fuck who you want, I don't care."

"I know," he replied half-heartedly, then forcibly pushing away the image of Riley that had appeared involuntarily in his mind, "Anyone?" The act of forcing a smile seemed not only to work, but to implant one on Carrie's face as well.

"What about Linda?" he continued.

"Good luck, asshole," Carrie replied, rolling her eyes. "I hear she has a new boyfriend."

"Didn't stop her before," John pointed out.

"Yeah, well, it sounds like this one probably has a much nicer cock than yours so good fucking luck." She opened the car door and stepped out. Just before closing the door, she added, "I'll say hi for you."

He nodded, giving her a half-assed wave before she made her way up to the building.

***

"I'm just saying it's a weird inconsistency," John punctuated his words with a little shrug.

"You're a weird inconsistency," Carrie replied, rolling her eyes at him before returning them back to the shelf of wines.

He decided to carry on, knowing that Carrie would simply ignore his meandering thoughts. "It's just like, red? English. White? English. Rosé? French. Why are we borrowing this one word and not the others?"

"I don't know," she responded without turning to look at him, "Probably just to annoy weird assholes like you."

He smiled, taking a second to admire her form. Her bare, shapely legs were sticking out of the jacket she had "asked" to borrow from him on the way to the liquor store, and the way her petite arms did not even stick out of the sleeves, leaving only the tips of her fingers protruding as she picked up a bottle struck him as strangely endearing. "Maybe I'll just start calling it rouge, see if that catches on."

"It won't," she replied, this time turning to give him a look of feigned disdain. "Stop trying to make fetch happen. And anyway rouge is English."

"What? No, it's not," he replied, returning her look with one of confusion.

"Yes it is, asshole. As in, I only use rouge, not lipstick," she responded. "In any case, which do you think is better at drowning out my bitch sister-in-law, rosé or rouge?"

He let out a sigh. "No idea. Probably no difference. If you hate your sister-in-law so much, why are you going there for Thanksgiving, anyway?"

"Whatever, I'll just get a mix," she said, picking up a bottle of red and placing it in the basket she had "asked" John to carry for her as they shopped, a basket which was becoming increasingly heavy as the unexpectedly long non-date continued. "Because it's Thanksgiving and they're family, even if they're my asshole brother and his stupid gold-digging bitch of a wife. Besides, their daughter has not yet internalized the nuances of being a dumb cunt so maybe she could use some more time with her cool aunt."

An older lady near them had evidently picked up on Carrie's rather nonchalant use of profanity, her face crinkling into a scowl directed in their direction at the use of "the c-word". He gave a friendly nod and smile back, which did not seem to help the situation.

"And what else am I going to do for Thanksgiving? Chloe's probably going back to her Norman Rockwell painting for the holiday, so it's not like spaghetti friendsgiving is an option," Carrie continued, either unaware of, or, more likely, unconcerned with the look she was getting.

"You could hang out with me," John offered, already knowing this was futile.

"Oh fun, drinking a festive bottle of Wild Turkey with you while you figure out a way to jerk off to the Macy's Parade," she said. Having evidently picked out enough bottles to last through the holiday weekend, she turned to look at him, crossing her arms. "Might be fun, actually," she said. "But I did already say I would go." After another moment of looking him over, she added, "I could maybe bring you along, I guess."

"Really?" he asked. "You want to explain the, uh, non-dating situation to Henry? I'm sure he'll be very non-judgemental of your life decisions."

"Yeah, you're right," she said, then turned and started towards the cash register. "I'd probably want to kill you before Black Friday, anyway."

***

There was something about the sound of bottles clanking together that made John wince every time he heard it, which was unfortunate, since the box that the liquor shop generously gave Carrie, and which she had placed in the back seat of John's car, had done nothing to prevent that sound; rather it had already elicited three separate winces from him, each accompanied by a mental image of his car being flooded with a lovely assortment of reds, whites and rosés from various countries before they had even gotten past the first light.

"Ok," he said, "so I will drop you off at the curb and you can haul the box up to your apartment yourself?"

She gave a non-committal head bobble as her only response.

"And then you can bring me down the money for the wine? And that's not going to set off any alarm bells from Chloe, yeah?"

"Hmph," she made a little noise, visibly thought it over for a few moments, then said, "Fine, I guess, Mr. Pennypincher. I can bring you your money if you need it so urgently."

"I don't care, you can pay me back whenever," he said. "I'm really just asking about where you want me to stop so that the sacred girl code is not broken. Or I guess the illusion of said code."

He half expected this to result in an angry retort from Carrie, so it came as a bit of a surprise when her response was delayed by more silent but obviously careful consideration. "Yeah," she said, "you're right. Just take me back to your place."

"And that's not going to set off alarm bells?" John asked, more confused than annoyed.

"Nah," she replied. "I don't know. I don't think so. She knows I was going to hang out with Riley today, so she'll just assume we were getting drunk all night. I'll just stash the wine at your house and come get it before I leave town."

"Alright," he answered. "Not sure I appreciate you assuming my Saturday night is just open like that, though."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you have a date with a married woman lined up or something?" she teased, then, having evidently seen something in his reaction that he had not intended, added. "Sorry, that was kind of a bitch thing to say."

"Nah, it's fair," he attempted to shrug it off while making a left turn. "Kind of funny, anyway. But, no, I'm trying to stay away from married women."

Her smile returned slightly. "I know it's a huge challenge," she said. "But, you know, I might be able to help you with the struggle a bit."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "What kind of help are you thinking?"

Her smile grew wider. "Oh, I don't know, be your shoulder to cry on, listen to your troubles over dinner. Your treat, of course."

"Of course."

***

"Seriously, what the fuck is this movie?"

John turned his attention from the television screen to Carrie, beside him on the couch. Her face showed a milder form of annoyance than he had honestly expected.

"It's, uh," he began, "it's symbolic. See, the rich are not human; they're a whole other species that literally feeds off the rest of humanity."

Her annoyance increased by approximately 10%, as John judged from the change in her expression. "Yeah, I get that. I'm not, like, a fucking moron. It's not exactly subtle."

"Yeah, so that's kind of what's great about it. Subtlety is overrated. Gooey body horror effects are underrated," he said.

"See, this is why we can't be dating," Carrie said. She picked up the remote from the coffee table.

"What?" John asked, eyeing her finger as it hesitated over the power button.

"Because if we were dating we would have to find compromises on things like the movies that we watch. And, frankly, your taste sucks ass," she answered as if this was the obvious meaning one should draw from her earlier words.

"Aww, you say 'sucks ass' like it's a bad thing," he said.

She smiled a little sarcastic smile he knew all too well and shut off the tv.

"Aww," he said, leaning back into the couch, "we didn't even get to the best part yet."

"Let me guess," Carrie replied as she stood and chucked the remote down onto the couch, "somebody's head explodes."

"No, no, that's Scanners," he replied. He stretched his arms out wide but otherwise did not move from his position. "This is Society. Totally different director, totally different vibe."

"Whatever," she replied, "if you really want to watch it, that's fine. I'm going to go upstairs and find something more interesting to watch on your laptop."

He smiled. "You mean porn?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. Unless you've got a better way to spend a Saturday night." She smiled back at him before turning and heading for the stairs.

He turned back toward the blank television screen before answering "I do not." When no response came, he turned to find her, having already ascended the stairs while stripping out of her shirt.

Why do I have the feeling that I'm not fully necessary in this process? he asked himself before quickly following her to the bedroom.

When he arrived, she was just slipping out of her shorts, revealing the sheer black panties he remembered from earlier in the day. She turned her head to shoot him a smile over her shoulder, but before she could do much else, he was already on her, pressing against her. He kissed her neck, eliciting a coo from her that only grew more excited as his hands reached her breasts.

She reacted to his fingers exploring her curves with some writhing against him which he found at once quite pleasant and restrictive, in the sense that it almost forced his cock to harden in his jeans, straining the fabric. He let one hand slide over the smooth, warm skin of her taut tummy and down, over her panties, where he began gently caressing her.

"Hold on," she said, pushing his hand away for a second, only to slip her hand into her panties to assist in the process of wiggling out of them. They fell to the floor and she stepped out of them and towards the bed.

She never was much for foreplay, he conceded. Although there's certainly something to be said for getting right to the point.

He stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside as she crawled up onto the bed, making her way over to where his laptop sat closed on a nightstand. "You really want to watch a movie?" he asked, incredulous.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I kind of like watching. Don't you?"

He bobbled his head in response. "You mean just movies, or are we talking the real thing?"

She responded only with a suspicious look.

"I mean like me and Chloe," he answered her implied question.

She turned her attention to the laptop, opening it and slowly tapping in the password he did not remember giving her.

"We're really just never going to talk about that, huh?" he said as he stripped off his jeans and boxers.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, turning her attention back to John. "Now are we going to talk, or are you going to find something better to do with that mouth of yours?"

He leapt up onto the bed and in a single fluid motion brought his mouth to her gorgeous, round ass, splitting her cheeks with his hands and burying his tongue in her asshole.

"Ooh!" she squealed, evidently forgetting the movie as the sudden sensation forced her to catch herself with both hands to prevent toppling over.

His tongue darted in and out of her rapidly, only gradually slowing to begin circular motions around her tight little asshole. She wiggled her ass in response, moaning seemingly at random as his tongue moved farther afield, dipping down to her pussy and back up to her ass a few times before settling into a rhythm, lapping up and down from clit to asshole and back again. He had just begun tonguing her clit in earnest when she pushed him away with a backwards motion of her ass. "Dick, please," she said, smiling back over her shoulder.

He smiled back, wiping his mouth. "You have a preferred location?" he asked.

"Mmmhmm," she answered without answering, wiggling her butt at him in place of words.

He chuckled at this, taking his cock in hand and placing the head on her pussy lips, then running it up and down the length of her slit a few times, coating the head with her juices.

"Come on," she said.

"Come on what?" he asked, continuing to tease her.

"You know where I want it, don't make me beg," she replied.

"Aww," he said, "but I like when you beg for it."

"Put your cock up my fucking asshole already," she answered, feigning annoyance.

He smiled. "That's better." He slid his cock head up her slit and over her taint to rest it briefly on her hole, which elicited first a shiver and then an annoyed wiggle as Carrie tried unsuccessfully to push him inside herself.

"Come on," she repeated.

"Hmm..." he teased her by slapping his cock head against her butthole, producing a lovely wet sound.

"God, you're such a perv," she giggled. "Alright, fuck my ass. Put your big fucking cock up my tight little slutty asshole. I love your big FUCKING cock in my tight FUCKING asshole. Alright? Now will you just fuck my ass, or do I have to do it myself?"

His answer was to shove his by this point throbbing cock directly into her ass in a single push; he was impressed that she took it as easily as she did. Not only had the head quickly penetrated her, but a good inch or so of the shaft as well. A split second later she howled out a "FUCK" that was so loud he was sure he would be getting a cranky visit from at least one neighbor before the night was through.

"Ooh yes fuck that ass," she grunted as he began working himself into and out of her, sinking slightly deeper with each stroke. He couldn't help notice that even by the time he had managed to get in nearly up to his balls, her hands remained on the surface of the bed, her fingers tightly gripping the sheets with no apparent intention of making their way to her clit.

"You like that?" he asked over the sound of his body slapping against hers.

"Ooh, yes, baby," she purred. "I fucking love it. Fuck that ass, fuck it!"

He complied, moving in and out, in and out, savoring the sensation of her tight little hole massaging his member as it squeezed and relaxed over and over again.

"Oh fuck yes," she moaned, "I'm gonna fuckin' cum... oh fuck, I'm gonna cum with my ass... fuck..." Her voice cut out and she went wild, first pushing back against him hard, then rapidly working him in and out briefly before once again pushing him in deep while she let out a series of high-pitched squeaks.

"Oh fuck," she sighed after a few moments of silence. He pulled out and admired his handiwork, her normally perfectly tight little asshole now gaping open beautifully. He did not have long to admire it as she quickly spun around and grabbed his cock, extending her tongue as she opened her mouth, only to close it again around his cock head. She sucked it noisily, seeming deeply focused on her work, her hand jerking him steadily as her lips and tongue sent shivers running through him.

"Ooh, fuck yes, taste your fucking ass, slut," he groaned.

"Mmm, mmm," was her only response, too busy was she savoring that very taste off his cock.

She smacked her lips as she finally released him, immediately turning back around and pressing her face into the mattress again. "Pussy now, please," she asked.

I've never known Carrie to be so good at communication, John marveled as he slipped his cock head into her. Despite have done almost nothing to warm up her pussy, he entered her easily, so copious were her juices. She let out a deep grown as his cock head pressed against something deep inside her, and that groan transformed quickly into a series of moans as he built up speed, pumping in and out of her tight hole, her juices coming to coat him in barely any time at all.

He pulled out of her, if only to give himself a brief respite, realizing in that moment just how much sweat had built up on each of them as they slammed their bodies into one another repeatedly.

Carrie rolled over onto her back, spreading her legs for him. Her look confirmed silently what he already suspected: she was close again and was in no mood to wait for her next orgasm. She had always cum fastest from missionary and, though she had never been willing to admit it while they were together, faster still when that missionary was accompanied by a finger in her ass.

He complied with her silent request, taking up a position between her legs and guiding his cock into her again as he kissed her deeply on the lips. For a few moments after the kiss, they looked into each others' eyes as their hips worked in tandem, driving him and in and out of her, her sloppy wet pussy periodically squeezing him even tighter. He slid a hand down her side and onto that glorious ass, letting his fingers creep over its curve until they found her hole. Silently she confirmed it with a look and he pushed a finger into her, finding her more than sufficiently lubricated with the juices that were overflowing her pussy more and more with each stroke. She let out a little moan of pleasure and then her arms grasped him, her fingers digging into his flesh. "I'm... ah... ah..." she never finished her sentence as she came hard again, her body thrashing as she pressed him to her even more tightly. He let go and emptied himself into her, filling her pussy with a thick load of hot cum as he buried his face into her neck.

John gazed over to the window and noticed the sky, which had already been darkening on the trip from the liquor store to home, was now pitch black. He tried to recall the transition from being on top of her to being beside her but came up with nothing. "So, you're staying the night, I guess?"

Carrie's reaction was surprisingly easy to read: defensive, her face turning into a bit of a scowl as her fingers curled on John's chest. "Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all," he said. "Believe it or not, I like it when you stay over."

"Because you think you'll get morning sex out of it?" she asked, her face no longer a scowl.

"No," he answered, "Well, yes, but not just that."

"Oh," she said. "Well, yeah, I can stay over. If you want."

John smiled, pleased at her response. "Yeah, I was just asking about girl code and all."

"It's fine," she said, her scowl partially reappearing. "Like I said, I'll just say I was with Riley. If she asks. Which she won't."

"Alright," he said. Definitely not something worth fighting over. Definitely definitely not when my dick and balls are so exposed to a potentially angry Carrie. He let his fingers run over the soft skin of her arm for a few minutes before continuing. "Chloe doesn't mind you hanging out with Riley?"

"No," Carrie responded, a little too quickly, "she doesn't give a shit. Should she?"

John shrugged.

"I told you before, she doesn't hate Riley. If anything, she hates you. There's no reason to be mad at Riley over anything. You made yourself available, she got hers. Riley didn't owe Chloe anything. So moral objections to cheating in the abstract aside, girl code does not apply here." Carrie pretended to be very interested in her fingernails.

"Oh, I guess I'm just a dumbass," he said, which elicited a little sound of confirmation from Carrie but neither a look nor a more formal verbal response. "Does Chloe really hate me?"

This was evidently not the right question, as it caused Carrie to give up the pretense of being disinterested, taking her head off his chest and looking him in the eyes. "Can you not ask me about Chloe?" she said.

Before he could answer, she continued, "Or Riley? Or any other girl? Please. I don't want to talk about it. About them."

"Oh, sorry," he said.

"It's fine," she said, in a tone that told him it decidedly wasn't. "It's just..." She sat up, throwing her legs off the bed, facing away from him. "I know I said I was here for you because of, well, because of them. But I don't..." She turned in place, and looked into his eyes. "Listen, I'll be what you want me to be, ok? If you want a girlfriend for tonight, I'll be your girlfriend, and if you want a buddy to shoot the shit with, that's fine, too. Or if you want a filthy little slut you can fuck and forget about in the morning, I'll be that. But I can't be all of them, not at once. And what else I can't be is your oracle on the inner workings of another girl, not Chloe, not Riley, not anyone. Not anyone but me. If you want to fuck me, do it, use me as a jerk-off toy. I'll be your fucking cum sock, I'll be your whore. But don't use me as a gateway to another girl. I can't."

He could feel the tears welling in his eyes in response to her own, which she was, he had to admit, doing an admirable job of suppressing, though not quite a sufficient one. "I'm sorry," he said, the words seeming immediately insufficient.

"It's fine," she said, turning away from him. "You can do that, though, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "I promise." After a moment of no one speaking, he added, "I promise I will treat you with all the tenderness and understanding I treat my other cum socks with."

She laughed a short little laugh. "Good," she said. "But you'll have to wait. I have to go piss." She rose to her feet and walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind her without turning around.

She's right, you know, the voice popped into his head. You have to decide what this is.

Why? he thought back at it. It's working perfectly fine as long as I don't get hung up on Chloe.

The voice did not accept his answer. If ifs and buts were candy and nuts...

He chuckled to himself, stopping when he realized how insane he would look if Carrie walked out. Butts and nuts...

You can't stupid your way out of making decisions, his inner voice pointed out.

He rose to his feet. Just watch me.

He walked over to the bathroom and found Carrie had not bothered to close it entirely, let alone lock it; it was not latched and a thin strip of light was visible between the door and frame. He casually pushed the door open with one hand.

"What the fuck?" Carrie immediately closed her thighs and covered herself with her hands, one hand vaguely floating over her crotch and the other doing a poor job of hiding one nipple.

"What?" John asked with a smile.

"What the fuck, dude, I'm trying to pee," she said.

"I know," he responded, "So go ahead."

She shot him a confused look which morphed into her usual playful scowl. "You want to watch? You're such a perv."

"You said you'd be my whore tonight, didn't you?" He let his tongue dance along the back of his teeth.

"You're getting even weirder all the time," she said, relaxing her hands.

"Show me," he said.

She shook her head slightly, a smile growing on her face. Without a word, she spread her legs, placing her hands on her knees. Her eyes remained locked onto his. A moment later, a trickle of piss came out of her. It started small but quickly grew into a confident stream, splashing audibly into the bowl in the otherwise silent room.

"Satisfied?" she said when the stream had died down, her smile somehow extra endearing.

"Not bad," he said, "but now I kind of have to piss, too."

"Alright," she said. She started to move but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. She looked into his eyes questioningly, but without a hint of fear.

"Open your mouth, whore" he said.

She complied, still watching him. He took hold of his cock and aimed it towards her face. It was still sticky in his hand with a mixture of their fluids. He relaxed and a stream of hot piss came flowing out of him. It struck her in the face, eliciting a short twinge of surprise, but she suppressed it, holding her mouth open as he adjusted his aim to hit her. The angle made it difficult and so the stream, dying down, quickly moved from her mouth to her chest before dying off entirely, sending his piss dripping down the front of her body. Only when he had finished did she close her mouth.

He looked at her as if to say "Well?"

She stood and, pushing him back a step in the process, pressed her now very wet body against his, kissing him softly on the lips and giving him a taste of his own piss. She pulled away from the kiss and looked into his eyes, a smile on her face.

"Well?" he asked verbally this time.

"Well what?" she replied.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I think you're a weird pervert," she said. "But I also think you're rubbing off on me." She planted another kiss on his lips, this time reaching down to his cock and beginning to tug it gently back to life with one hand.

He broke off the kiss, holding position next to her. "Shower sex?"

Her reply came in another kiss, "Mmm hmm."

***

Top five ways of waking up, for sure. Not quite up there with a blowjob, but pretty high up.

This was the first coherent thought that John could remember having as he shuffled down the stairs, led by the alluring scent of coffee to the kitchen. He assumed that, clothed in naught but a pair of boxers and still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he was moving at a snail's pace, but he felt more like a cartoon hobo, drifting through the air, carried on a visible scent trail from that coffee.

"Good morning, sunshine," Carrie greeted him as he entered the kitchen.

"You're up early," he remarked. She shrugged it off without further comment. Rising early was in and of itself, to John's mind indicative of something afoot when it came to Carrie, but her lack of snappy retort clinched it. What exactly it clinched, he had no idea, but he sensed something must certainly have been wrong. "Any particular reason?"

She shrugged again, scrolling lazily through something on her phone as she sat at the kitchen table, dressed in a t-shirt just barely long enough to hide any undergarments she might have been wearing. "I don't know, seize the day, I guess."

He eyed her curiously for a moment before pouring himself a mug of coffee. "Fair enough," he said, savoring for a moment the sound of coffee splashing lightly into the mug, "Seizing anything in particular this fine November day?"

She watched him step towards her, as he blew steam away from the lip of the mug, a look of mild amusement on her face, then reached a hand out rapidly to his crotch, taking firm hold of his cock through the thin fabric. "Mostly this, I think."

"Whoa, fuck," he reacted, burning his tongue slightly as coffee splashed into his mouth slightly ahead of schedule due to the surprise. "Hey, come on, there's a beverage involved here, man."

She smiled, withdrawing her hand. "Fine," she said, "I guess you're not in the mood."

"I guess you are?" he said, then took a more controlled sip.

"Eh," she said. "I'm in the mood for breakfast, anyway."

He looked around the room for a moment, then replied, "I think I have some cereal..."

"No," she said, once more glancing at her phone, "I think you can whip up something better that that."

He chuckled, "I suppose I could manage something. Don't you have to be getting back, though?"

She scowled at him and not in a playful way; she brushed the scowl away quickly but he had noticed it, regardless. "What, are you trying to get rid of me now that you got some?"

"No, I was just..." He was about to mention "girl code" but an image of her sitting on the edge of the bed the night before came to mind and he shut his mouth.

"Just what?" she asked, her face indicating confusion.

"Just thinking I was out of eggs is all. You were thinking, like, pancakes or something, right?" he impressed himself with the quick catch.

"Mmm," she twisted up her mouth in an expression of a level of consideration that was both not warranted by the situation and irritatingly adorable. "I guess pancakes would be alright..."

"So, like diner food?" he offered.

Her eyes lit up. "Exactly. Can you do that?"

"How about I just take you to a real diner?" he asked.

Her smile grew a little bigger.

He sighed. "My treat."

She grinned ear to ear.

***

"Can I warm you up?"

It took a second for John, after he had identified the words' source as the waitress currently holding a pot of coffee at the end of the table, to process them. When he had, it was not without a slight smile creeping across his lips.

She was pretty, young; he guessed maybe a student at the local university. A single bolt of purple in her otherwise blond hair really accented her infectious smile, and something about the otherwise unremarkable pink uniform was working for him. Yes, I think I'd quite enjoy being warmed up, he thought.

"Oh, uh, sure," he said, and pushed his mug towards her, a moment later receiving his second refill since arriving.

"And you?" she asked, turning her attention to Carrie. "More coffee?"

"Nah, I'm good," Carrie replied, her own smile, as well as her attention, directly squarely at John. The waitress bounced away to repeat the process at another table, John's eyes involuntarily following her thin but shapely form for a few steps.

"You're such an asshole," Carrie brought John's attention back to herself.

"So I'm told," he responded, drawing the mug back towards himself, but leaving it hovering near his mouth without drinking. "Repeatedly. What asshole thing did I do now?"

Carrie glanced over at the waitress for a second, a smile on her lips, then back at John. "Nothing," she said. "At least yet."

"Sorry if you were wanting to get going," John said. "If you're done with your waffles, we can go any time, actually."

"You really are trying to get rid of me," Carrie responded. She twirled her fork on her plate, making a tiny drawing in the syrup that slowly disappeared, the syrup once more forming into a puddle at the center of a mostly empty plate. "Big plans or something?"

John took a sip of his coffee, found it slightly too warmed up, and put the mug back on the table. "Oh, yeah," he said, "big day of playing Nintendo games from two decades ago in my underwear. Wanting to join?"

"Hard pass," Carrie replied, squinting her eyes at him.

"Don't knock it till you've tried it."

The voice was familiar, but it still took a second to register. John turned his head and found Curtis standing practically over his shoulder.

"Curtis!" Carrie reacted with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

He pretended to think it over for a second. "Well, it's a diner, so I was thinking shoot some hoops, maybe get a haircut, I don't know..."

"God, you're such an asshole," Carrie replied with a smile. "It's no wonder you two assholes get along so well."

"Aww, still salty from lack of dick, I see," Curtis replied. "You really should let Ethan set you up with a friend."

John shot her a look which she conspicuously ignored. "Come on, sit down," she said, then, turning her attention to John, "Move over, asshole, let the man sit."

Just as John scooted over to let Curtis in, a middle aged, balding man in the next booth turned around and interjected in an angry but calm tone, "If you could watch your language, miss..."

Carrie scowled. "No, thanks, I think I'll let you handle it since you seem so fucking interested in what we're saying over here. In this booth. Where your bald ass isn't sitting."

John caught an annoyed look on the man's face before he turned back around. That's my Carrie... wait, my Carrie?

"Where is your little fuck buddy, by the way?" Carrie asked. John thought he noticed a grumble from the man at the next booth but decided to ignore it.

"Ethan?" Curtis said, grabbing a menu. "Brunch with the girls. So I thought I would get some brunch of my own. Thus, this fine establishment."

"We were actually just about to take off," John interjected.

"Boo," Carrie said. "No we weren't, don't listen to this asshole." She shot him a not entirely playful look.

"Oh, don't let me..." Curtis began before Carrie waved him off.

"Don't worry," she said, "there's always room for more waffles."

"Ooh, yes," Curtis replied, "chicken and waffles, they have to have that, right?"

"Well I assume they are capable of combining chicken, which they have, and waffles, which they definitely have, into a single plate, should the need arise," John offered.

"Ignore his stupid ass," Carrie said, "he would be happy to buy you whatever you want."

"Aww, thanks, bud," Curtis turned to John with a smile that told him that Curtis both fully understood this to be a Carrie's idea of a fun joke and was fully happy to get the free meal out of it.

"Yeah, don't mention it," John feigned annoyance as Curtis signaled the cute waitress back over.

***

"See? Chicken and waffles," Curtis said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "The whole, truly greater than the sum of its parts."

"You're not wrong," John replied. "Some kind of emergent property, no doubt."

"No doubt," said Curtis before turning his attention to Carrie, who was watching the boys with feigned disinterest. "You don't agree?"

She shrugged. "I'll stick with fruit as a topping here."

"Philistine," Curtis said with a smile. "It's the sweetness of the waffle and savory chicken working in tandem, a beautiful, uh, what's the word?"

"Melange?" John offered. "Medley?"

"Culinary interracial fuck?" Carrie offered.

Curtis nodded, stifling a chuckle. "Yeah, melange," he said. "Fruit on waffles is just sweet on sweet. Opposites attract, et cetera."

Carrie smiled at the response. "Chicken or fruit," she said, "it's all going to my fat ass, either way."

"Then maybe we should order up another plate," Curtis replied.

John picked up the check from the table, just in case Carrie felt like making good on that threat. "I think we should probably get going."

Carrie shot her best pouty look at John. "Aww, I thought you liked my fat ass."

"I just feel like some of us might have other places to go today besides the diner?" John said.

His meaning evidently registered, as Carrie scowled at him. "Yeah, I know you have a big day planned."

"Oh, yeah?" Curtis asked before finishing off his coffee. "You and Chloe got something going on?"

John thought he did an admirable job of disguising the gut punch he felt at the name drop, but evidently not, as Curtis seemed to pick up on something in his reaction. "... unless maybe you and Chloe aren't together any more? Sorry, man."

"Ah, he's fine," Carrie jumped in before John could say anything. She shot him a brief look of sympathy before continuing. "He's already out there getting more pussy than before, so don't feel too bad for him."

"Glad to hear it," Curtis said. His eyes told John that the shared fiction would suffice for now. "I'm sure it's very helpful to have an ex around dropping 'I told you so's to cheer you up."

"Oh, very," John said, surprising himself with how little he had to force a smile. "Carrie here has been very good about letting me know all the things I did wrong with Chloe."

Curtis eyed Carrie, a slight smile on his lips. "I'm sure she has," he said. Then, after a pause, "Well, anyway, I guess I should get out of your hair, let you get to whatever those plans you two have are. Thanks for the brunch."

"Our pleasure," Carrie answered for John. "We don't really have any plans, though. It was just John that was going to spend the day on that fucking Nintendo."

"Not a gamer girl, I take it?" Curtis asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Boys and their joysticks," she said.

"Aww, you used to love my joystick," John interjected.

"Pff," Carrie shook her head.

Curtis's eyes moved back and forth between the two for a few moments. "Alright, well..." he started to get up to leave.

"Say," said John, "if you're not doing anything, maybe you want to hang out? You know, play with our joysticks?"

"Interesting proposition."

***

"Suck my diiick!"

"God damn it, you fucking suck," John managed to avoid throwing his controller down, but the way he set it down beside himself on the couch might be described as "less than gentle." He looked over at the chair to find Curtis doing a little mocking dance, which was, while in a certain sense aggravating, also not without its charms for its stupidity. That this came as a result of his complete humiliation of John in a decades-old video game made it somehow both more endearing and more annoying.

"No, you fucking suck," Curtis explained. "I haven't played this game since junior high and I still whooped your ass. Killed you with a fucking klobb, dude. Just straight up embarrassing. I almost feel bad for you."

John shook his head as a smile crept across his lips. "Yeah, yeah, lucky shot. I'll get your ass next round." He stood up and stretched. "I'm going to make some coffee. You want a cup?"

"Nah, I'm good," Curtis answered. "Maybe I should get going. Ethan's probably going to be drunk and horny soon."

"Ah, shit," John said. "Yeah, well, thanks for coming over, anyway." He flopped back down on the sofa, letting out a sigh.

Curtis studied him for a moment. "Actually I could probably stick around. If you don't mind the company."

John stretched his arms over his head. "Not at all," he said. "Happy to have it, actually. Ethan?"

Curtis shrugged. "He'll be fine, hasn't even texted me a picture of his dick yet so he's probably good for a while." He watched John's reaction for another few moments before continuing, in a tone that sounded cautious to John. "So, you and Carrie, huh?"

John waved it off. "Nah, we're..."

We're what?

"I mean, she's just been offering her own patented Carrie brand of 'emotional support'," he answered.

"Ah, so you're not fucking her, then?" Curtis asked, his eyebrows raised.

John chuckled and looked down before responding. "Well we're not exactly not fucking..."

"Uh huh," Curtis responded, his smile softening the sarcasm.

John shook his head. "Bad idea?"

Curtis sucked in a a loud breath, tilting his head as he considered it. "I don't know, man," he said. "Maybe don't take advice on women from the gay guy."

John shrugged. "Fair point," he said. "So, I guess you're ditching the bi label, now?"

"If it means not having to try to navigate your love life, yeah, I'm fine with whatever label," Curtis chuckled. He looked at John for another moment, his eyes soft, before adding, "That said, yeah, I think it's a bad idea. I mean, if it was me... well, I don't fuck with exes."

It was now John's turn to consider his interlocutor. "Sounds like you know from experience?"

Curtis laughed. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." He paused, looking as if he was playing a memory back in his mind for a moment, then added, "But it's Carrie, so maybe you're alright."

John's only response was a questioning look. Curtis seemed to interpret it correctly, as he continued. "I mean, Carrie might be a bit, let's say, hard to parse, but she's good. Doesn't seem like the type to fake a pregnancy as some kind of elaborate scheme to get back together, anyway."

It took a second for John to force the laugh that escaped from his mouth back down. "Oof, sorry, man. Yeah, I guess I'll be alright."

Curtis acknowledged the laugh with a smile and a gesture. "Long time ago," he said. "But if you don't mind me asking, what happened with Chloe? I mean, I didn't really get to talk to her much at the party but you two seemed..."

"You're still playing that fucking game?"

Both men turned to see Carrie as she entered the room, having evidently walked in through the unlocked front door a moment earlier. She had changed from one hoodie and shorts combination to another, which appeared to John to be a simple palette swap, prompting a brief mental tangent on the contents of her closet.

"It's a classic," John protested, to which Carrie, making her way over to the couch to plop down beside him, responded with only a sour look.

She turned her attention to Curtis. "How you doin', Curt?" she asked.

"Can't complain," he responded. "Your boy here is being very generous, letting me win all the time. Or maybe he just sucks."

Her 'boy'? John thought. Exceedingly vague. Very clever, Curtis.

"Probably the latter," Carrie replied. "Honestly I'm a little surprised I didn't walk in on him doing some sucking. Or has Ethan put the kibosh on that type of thing?"

Curtis smiled. "No kibosh." After a pause which included a meaningful look in John's direction, he added, "At least on my end. I just figured I would keep the ass fucking figurative for a while. Sorry if that's a disappointment." He paused, seeming to evaluate her expression for a moment. "But I guess if you wanted a show..."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled, and John took the brief silence to interject. "So I guess you've safely navigated girl code...?"

Carrie shot him an irritated look. "Not home," she said, "probably making better use of her weekend than sitting around playing some crap from her misspent youth."

Curtis looked between the two of them for a moment, then asked, "Care to misspend some time? It's always more fun with a third." He punctuated his sentence with a wink.

She returned his playful look for a few moments, then, picking up a stray controller, responded. "Alright, I'm game."

***

"So fucking boring..."

Carrie tossed her controller to the side, letting it bounce off the arm of the couch, and turned her gaze to the boys, John on the other end of the couch and Curtis opposite them in a chair. "I will never understand how boys can do this shit for hours."

"Hey, that's a valuable piece of technology there," John objected facetiously. "Handle with care."

"It's a multi-decade old hunk of plastic that's worth approximately zero fucking dollars," she retorted.

"An antique," Curtis offered. "A classic."

She rolled her eyes while the boys continued their low-polygon battle to the death.

"You're just mad because you suck at this game," John said. "We even let you be Oddjob."

Just then Curtis's character fired a shot into John's; the screen showed an approximation of blood covering John's portion while the James Bond music blared. "Ha! Got you again, motherfucker!"

"Fucking bullshit controller," John groused.

"Valuable piece of technology, you say?" Carrie remarked. "Seriously, though, I do not understand how you guys can just keep doing this dumb fucking game for so long. Don't you get bored?"

"Bored of bending poor John here over?" Curtis asked, eyes locked onto the screen even. "Not a chance. I could do this all day."

"I'm gonna get your fucking ass this time," John responded. "That last one was a fluke. Lucky shot."

Carrie lay her head back on the back of the couch. "God, how can you two be so gay for each other and so boring at the same time?"

"The fuck are you talking about?" John asked, watching Carrie out of the corner of his eye while struggling to keep track of where both characters were on the screen.

"You both are all 'I'm gonna get your ass, I'm gonna fuck you, suck my dick,' and all that. Just all empty promises." She shook her head in what appeared to be half-feigned frustration and pulled her phone from her pocket.

"Ah," said Curtis, "Well we could..." he paused talking briefly while in-game he fired off another kill shot, eliciting a groan from John, "We could make it more interesting, I suppose."

Carrie paused her fingering of the phone and looked over at him. "How so?"

Curtis shrugged, responding without looking away from the game. "Ah, you know, a friendly little wager."

"What do you propose?" she asked.

John turned his attention to Curtis. You're serious, aren't you? he beamed the thought.

As a heart attack, he imagined he could hear Curtis's response in his look.

"Eh, maybe the winner just gets to actualize his empty promises," he responded, looking at her for the first time in minutes.

She put her phone down. "Hmm, this game may have just gotten interesting."

"Alright, First to ten kills?" Curtis asked, quickly manipulating the controls to start a new round.

"No Oddjob," John interjected.

Carrie harrumphed. "Aww, why? He's cute."

"No Oddjob," John reiterated.

She stuck out her tongue at him playfully, then replied "Whatever."

Curtis chuckled. "Hell, you can even have Oddjob. I'm still gonna make you my bitch."

Within a few minutes, John found himself losing, seven to five. Carrie leaned over on the couch next to him. "Not looking so good..." she teased him.

"I got this," John replied, not bothering to face her. Just then Curtis's character flew around a corner and the screen became a nearly incomprehensible mess of flashing, janky polygons. A moment later Curtis's screen began turning red as his character crumpled on John's. "See?" John said. "I'm gonna get him."

"You're gonna get something," Carrie teased.

Less than a minute later, Curtis's character resurrected and already armed once again appeared as a poorly rendered blob on John's screen. There followed another burst of choppy gunfire; this time it was John's character who met an untimely demise.

"Ooh," Curtis teased, "just two to go, John..."

John grumbled, but said nothing.

Carrie leaned over again as John's character re-armed himself. This time she put her head on his shoulder, which did make it slightly harder to focus. "I can't wait to see how you handle him."

He pushed her away with his shoulder, eliciting a little laugh from her. Once again the two men's characters met and a hail of fire ensued. This time it was Curtis who died. "Ooh, tough break," John taunted Curtis.

"Luck," Curtis replied, not missing a beat as his character resurrected.

"Skill," John said.

"Ooh," Carrie feigned being impressed by the show of digital marksmanship. Beside John, she stripped off her hoodie, revealing a light top that he surmised might have actually been a form of undergarment. In any case, it did not make focusing any easier.

The music blared as John's screen once again displayed an approximation of blood. "What the fuck?" he said to nobody in particular.

"Boom," Curtis laughed. "Game point, John. You're about to get fucked."

John shot a quick glance over at Curtis as he once again armed his avatar. "Not over yet," he said.

Carrie leaned in again, this time even closer than before. Her breath was hot and wet against his ear as she whispered, "I can't wait to see you take it up the ass."

He tried to push her away again, only to be met with her tongue flicking his ear. "God damn it," he groused, not entirely unable to suppress a laugh at her.

BANG

dun dun da dun

"God damn it, Carrie," John shook his head.

"Suck my diiiick," Curtis gently mocked him.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," John dismissed it, not entirely unamused.

"Well?" Carrie asked.

John turned to see her expectant expression. "Well what?"

"Well, you heard the man," she said. "Come on." When she had evidently read his eye roll as a response, she continued, "You lost, you suck."

"Yeah, yeah," John said again.

She straightened her legs, stretching them off the couch and standing. "Well, if you're not going to do it," she said. She walked the couple steps over to the chair where Curtis was lounging and lowered herself to the floor, then began undoing Curtis's jeans.

So? John felt he could hear Curtis's thought echo in his mind as the man looked at him.

Uh, yeah...

"Nice," Carrie said when she had freed Curtis's cock from his jeans. She took it in hand, then looked up to him as if for confirmation. Having apparently received it, she placed her lips gently on the head, planting soft kisses on it a few times before opening her mouth and fully enveloping it. She started sucking it loudly, alternating between long, slow motions in which she pushed her lips past the head and gradually further and further down the hardening shaft and shorter, quick motions near the tip, during which her tongue could be seen darting out of her mouth.

"Mmm," Curtis groaned as his member grew visibly harder, lengthening in Carrie's nimble fingers. He looked over at John, smiled, and then turned his attention back to Carrie, running his fingers through her hair as she sucked and stroked him.

In his jeans, John could feel his own cock reacting to the sight. But which one of them do I want to be? he mused.

Mwah Carrie smacked her lips, pulling them off of Curtis. He took the opportunity to lift his hips off the chair and push his jeans down past his knees. "Mmm," she said, smiling as she continued to stroke him, "tastes so good."

"First black one?" Curtis teased.

Carrie's answer was a shrug before she put her mouth back on him, this time kissing down his shaft to his balls. She extended her tongue and began teasing them theatrically.

John's pants had become uncomfortable, so he undid the fly and loosed his own cock, taking it in hand as he pushed the jeans down to mid-thigh. He watched Carrie as he stroked himself, but he caught Curtis looking at him out of the corner of his eye and met his intrigued gaze.

Carrie must have noticed the look, as she stopped her licking and turned to John. "Well, come on," she said. "There's more than enough for two here."

"Yeah, come on," Curtis said. "Get down there and show her how it's done."

John couldn't help chuckling as he obeyed, getting on his knees and crawling the short distance over to them. Carrie helpfully moved to one side to allow him passage, gripping Curtis's engorged cock. It gleamed enticingly with a thin layer of spit as she watched him approach.

He wrapped his lips around the head of Curtis's cock, knowing instantly that this was the answer to his earlier musings. He ran his tongue back and forth along the underside briefly, but very quickly felt Carrie's hand on the back of his head and a moment later it pressed down, forcing Curtis's cock into John's mouth slowly but steadily.

"Ooh, that's it, baby," she purred. "Suck that fucking cock. Mmm, that's fucking hot..."

On the chair, Curtis stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside. Keeping her hand lightly on the back of John's head, allowing him to begin moving properly up and down the shaft, Carrie straightened up and turned her attention to Curtis, running her hand over his torso. "Does that feel good?" she asked. "Does he suck your cock real good?"

"Mmmhmm," Curtis responded.

"Did you hear that, baby?" she teased John. "It sounds like you're a lot better at sucking cock than you are at video games."

John's lips, still wrapped around Curtis's member, curled up into an approximation of a smile at this. He pulled away from the cock, formed a glob of spit in his mouth, and then spat it onto the cock, rubbing it down the shaft with his fingers. "You like watching me suck cock?" he asked.

"Mmmhmm," Carrie responded. As if to demonstrate this truth, she stood and slipped out of her shorts and panties, kicking them away before dropping back to her knees beside him, bringing her face next to his. She placed her fingers on her twat and kissed him. "Suck it more for me," she said.

Gladly. He placed his lips on the head and kissed down one side, letting his tongue dart from his lips and explore with each kiss. She watched him intently, rubbing her pussy with a pair of fingers as her own tongue seemed to mimic his on her lips.

She reached her free hand to John's jeans and struggled to yank them down further, giving up on rubbing her twat and finally using both her hands to get them down to his knees while he sucked. With a little assistance from him, moving his legs, she was finally able to strip them off entirely while he continued to slurp Curtis's cock, which was now fully coated in both of their spit. The fluid oozed between his fingers as he jerked the shaft with one hand, his other hand resting on the warm flesh of the other man's thigh.

"Fuck, you're a good little cocksucker," Curtis said as John pulled up for a breath, wiping away some of the spit that was dripping from his chin. "Now let your girl here have a chance while you suck my fucking balls."

Gladly, John thought. He kissed down the shaft, pushing spit down along it until he reached Curtis's ballsack, where he let his tongue begin to explore. He lowered himself down onto all fours, letting his tongue slip under Curtis' large, heavy balls while Carrie took up his former position worshiping Curtis's cock.

For what must have been at least a few minutes, they worked in tandem, Carrie alternately kissing and sucking the head and sinking her lips down around it, each time sending more spit sliding down the shaft and to the balls, from where what John didn't slurp up ended up coating his face. Then, without even a word from Curtis, they switched places. As Carrie kissed sloppily down to the balls, John extended his tongue and licked his way back up to the head, where he was treated with the slightly salty taste of Curtis's precum.

After a few quick, noisy sucks of the head, John removed his lips and built up a small glob of spit in his mouth. Carrie reacted to the momentary silence and stopped, looking into John's eyes even as her lips remained firmly in place around one of Curtis's balls. John let the glob of spit ooze out of his mouth and onto the head of Curtis's cock and without missing a beat, Carrie opened her lips, licking up the shaft quickly, and noisily sucked the spit in. Their eyes already locked onto one another's, they pressed against each other, their lips meeting in a hot and very wet kiss which only served to coat them each further in a sticky mix of spit and pre-cum.

He felt her hand on his, wrapping around it and joining him in jerking him while they kissed, then he reached in between her legs, where he found her twat absolutely soaking wet. He slipped a finger inside easily, enjoying the squishing noise it made as it pressed into her hot pussy.

Carrie broke off the kiss, her lips, even now dripping spit, curled into a hungry smile. "I want his cock, baby," she asked, her eyes locked onto John's. "Can I have it inside me, please, baby?"

"Yes, baby, show me," the answer spoke for itself, out of his mouth before it had even formed in his mind. "I want to see you take that fucking cock."

Her smile somehow grew bigger in the instant before she practically jumped up onto Curtis's lap, straddling him. Even the few moments it took her to get situated gave John, moving without thinking, enough time to take hold of Curtis's cock and guide it to her tight pussy lips. As he slid the cock head up and down her slit, she dripped onto it, only adding to the sloppy mess coating that big, beautiful member.

She lowered herself onto it cautiously, taking it into her sweet, hairless pussy before John's eyes. It was almost magical to watch how it disappeared into her, seeming far too large to fit, yet somehow easily engulfed. "Oh god," she moaned, "oh god it's so fucking big..."

He once more found himself wondering which of the two he was more jealous of as she finally forced John's hand away by squeezing herself down onto Curtis. He watched, entranced as she began moving, effortlessly stripping off her top and tossing it aside even as she writhed atop him, Curtis's cock once again emerging seemingly defying all sense, from her tight little hole. How beautiful it was, his dark cock, gleaming with spit and pussy juice, her perfect pussy lips wrapped around him. He watched her move a few times, simply enjoying her moans as he stroked himself.

He might even have just kept watching if not for Curtis interrupting his thoughts. "Lick," he said. He helpfully spread Carrie's ass cheeks, revealing that perfect little brown hole of hers as she bounced slowly atop him.

The command proved difficult to fulfill, with Carrie's delicious little asshole moving up and down, but no less satisfying for the difficultly. In any case, his tongue did not object to anything else it made contact with, her taint, Curtis's balls, and of course the copious, sticky fluids only improving the taste.

"Oh god yes, baby," Carrie's voice was a high pitched whine, "Oh fuck yes, eat my fucking ass while he fucks me... oh fuck, I'm gonna fucking cum..."

Curtis helpfully held her in place as an orgasm rocked her body, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass. John took the opportunity to jam his tongue as far up her butthole as he could manage, which only elicited further squeals of pleasure.

When her body stopped shaking from the orgasm, she managed to push herself back upright and begin gyrating once again, but she only got a few movements in before Curtis's hand, slipping up her side, pushed her gently off of him. "Your boyfriend's doing such a good job," he said, "Let's give repay him the favor."

Carrie responded by sliding down off the chair and kissing John on the lips, only pulling away from him when her tongue had probed every last corner of his mouth. She pressed a hand to his shoulder and he understood he was to lie back. As he did so, he could see Curtis, stroking his cock, rise from the chair. Carrie lowered herself down to all fours and took John's cock into her mouth, staring into his eyes as she began jerking him. Her tongue teased the underside, licking it slowly top to bottom while her fingers, gripping him tightly, moved slightly up and down near the base.

Curtis took up a position behind her, getting up on one knee. He shot John a smile just before he entered her again. John could almost feel the entrance simply from Carrie's reaction; she wrapped her lips around his cock, squeezing ever so slightly as Curtis's thick member once more filled her tight hole. "Oh, yeah, baby," John found himself saying, "take that big fucking cock for me."

"Oh god baby," slurp Her jerking grew faster as Curtis started pumping in and out of her. slurp, slurp "Oh fuck, baby, it feels so good..."

"Play with her asshole," John said plainly, obviously directly his comment to Curtis but without taking his eyes off Carrie. "She fucking loves that, don't you, baby?"

"Mmmhmm," Carrie answered, her lips still sliding furiously up and down John's rigid member.

Curtis spit in his hand and then placed his fingers on Carrie's ass. From his angle, John could only make out Carrie's reaction, but it was obvious the instant that Curtis went from circling her hole to inserting a finger. The jolt of pleasure ran up her spine and exited her mouth in the form of a little squeal which made John's cock vibrate between her tightly closed lips. "That's it baby," he assured her, running his fingers through her hair while she continued to suck him, "give him your holes. Can you cum for me?"

"Mmmhhmm," Carrie moaned over the sound of Curtis's body slapping against hers, her beautiful round ass jiggling with each impact.

"Cum for me," John said, their eyes locked. "Cum on his cock for me."

"Mmm... nnn..." Carrie's grip somehow managed to get even tighter as her voice grew ever higher, a whine of pleasure that rattled through John as she finally lost the battle with keeping her eyes open. Her face twisted up into a mask of pleasure as Curtis drove his cock into her and held his position. She shook, her entire body now vibrating for a few moments until the wave of pleasure finally passed. Only then did she take her mouth from John's cock, trailing a thick strand of spit as she did so. She panted while Curtis resumed fucking her at a slower pace.

"That's two for you," Curtis grunted. "How about we give your boyfriend here a chance?"

Carrie, drawn momentarily away to the sound of Curtis voice, returned her gaze to John questioningly. He simply nodded in response.

Curtis pulled out of her, already breathing hard. "Why don't you get him ready for me?" he asked.

John pulled his legs up towards himself, offering Carrie his asshole. She lowered her face and a moment later John felt her warm, wet tongue begin to caress the rim of his asshole. Curtis stroked himself, watching intently even as he toyed with Carrie's pussy and ass with his other hand. Carrie's tongue made its way inside John, tentatively at first, but quickly moving on to fucking his hole, sliding in and out, coating and filling him with her spit as it slid in and out.

"There's a good little slut," Curtis said. He punctuated his compliment with a slap on Carrie's ass and she took it as a signal her job was done, rising up again and moving away even as she wiped the spit from her chin. He took her place between John's legs and a moment after, John felt the familiar yet always exciting sensation of a hot cock head pressing at his entrance.

John felt Carrie's hand rest gently on his chest and he turned his attention back to where she was sitting on her knees beside him, a smile on her face. He was just about to say something when Curtis's cock head pushed inside of him, opening him up suddenly and making him forget whatever words had formed. Her hand slid down to his cock while Curtis's dick sank slowly but steadily into him. Her eyes remained locked onto his while she began jerking him, squeezing her spit between her fingers as Curtis's cock head pressed hard against something deep inside him, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through his body, made visible by a little spurt of pre-cum oozing from the tip of his cock.

She must have felt it, because she turned her attention to his cock, bending down and gently licking up the pre-cum droplet. "Ooh, baby, you like that?" she purred. "You like his big, fat cock up your ass?"

"Uh huh" John managed to get the words out despite Curtis's cock now moving slowly but insistently in and out of him, filling and stretching him completely.

"It's so fucking hot, baby," she purred. Just then he noticed that she had returned to rubbing her clit in a slow, circular motion as she watched, jerking him ever so slightly. "You look so fucking hot with a cock up your ass." She bent down again and sucked him noisily for a few seconds, then, smacking her lips, rose back up. "I love watching you get fucked."

Each time Curtis pushed into him, filling him completely, another wave of pleasure moved through John's body. He tried to reach between Carrie's legs with one hand as she sucked him, but the angle would have made it too difficult, even if Curtis's thrusting wasn't making it hard to do anything but enjoy the sensation. She must have sensed that he wanted to spread the pleasure, as she sat up once again, a little trail of spit hanging deliciously from her lip, and moved, straddling his face. When she squatted down atop him, pushing her sopping wet twat to his lips, she helpfully took hold of his legs, gently keeping them in place as Curtis continued to thrust steadily in and out of him.

He lapped sloppily at her pussy, savoring her flavor mixed with that of Curtis's cock. It was like heaven, his hard cock flopping against his belly unattended as both his holes were being used for another's pleasure.

"Ooh fuck yes, baby," she cooed above him. "Eat it, fucking lick it while you take that big fucking cock for me. Ooh fuck that's hot..." She adjusted her position, giving him what they both wanted: his tongue in her asshole. He lapped at it wildly, causing her to shiver before jamming his tongue into her, savoring the taste that he never tired of. "Ohh fuck," her voice wavered as she started in on her clit, wasting no time in working up to a furious pace, "tongue fuck my little fucking asshole... oh fuck, yes... just like that, baby... oh fuck I'm gonna fucking cum!"

Her asshole convulsed around his writhing tongue, trying to force it both in and out of her while her body quivered. She practically collapsed onto the floor, fortunately managing to do so to the side instead of directly on top of John. Despite still twitching at odd intervals, she pulled herself back up onto all fours quickly as Curtis pulled out of John's ass, leaving him feeling suddenly very open.

"Let me taste it, baby," she panted, not waiting for either man's response before shoving Curtis's

throbbing dick into her mouth. "Mmm" slurp "mmm" slurp "Oh fuck that tastes so good." She grabbed John's cock and sucked it hard, pulling Curtis's towards it and forcing him to move closer without taking John's dick out of her mouth. She released it just long enough to readjust, now using both hands, a cock in each, trying to force them both into her spit-oozing mouth.

She came up for air, her hands still tightly wrapped around each of their cocks, the spit and pre-cum mix gleaming on her chin. "I want you both inside me," she panted, glancing quickly to Curtis before turning her attention back fully to John. "Please, baby, can I have them both?"

"Yes, baby," John answered without a second thought. "Sit on my cock, baby."

She straddled him, facing away from him. "I want you in my ass," she said, "Fuck my little asshole, baby." Though spoken with the tone of a request, it was every bit the command her grammar made it out to be. She took hold of his cock with one hand and guided its head to her spit-drenched asshole, then with only minimal difficultly, sank down onto it, impaling herself with a rapidity that would have been surprising had he not been watching her do just that almost every day for the last few weeks. "Ooh fuck yes," she moaned as she sank down onto it, then rose slightly, then sank onto it again, bit by bit forcing him as deep into her guts as he could go.

When she had finally settled herself, her soft, warm ass pressed down onto John, he looked past her to tell Curtis, "Fuck her little cunt for me." He placed a hand on her hip to steady her and then asked. "Do you want it, baby? Do you want his big fat cock in your little cunt?"

"Mmmhmm," she whined, "I want it so fucking bad, baby. Please..."

Curtis, offering only a smile as a response, moved forward. After only a moment, John felt him enter her, his cock filling her pussy, separated only barely from John's own by Carrie's flesh. He instinctively started thrusting, lifting his hips off the floor, and Curtis, evidently feeling it just as much as John did, responded, the two of them quickly settling into a steady rhythm. In Curtis would thrust, out John would withdraw; John in, Curtis out, and in and out and in and out, pussy and ass straining.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Carrie whined atop John, "I'm gonna fuckin' cum... oh fuck..."

It was not so much a series of multiple orgasms that followed quickly as a steady stream of orgasm, unbroken but waxing and waning as their hard cocks continued to pound in and out of her. Her pussy released a torrent of juices that ran down onto John's cock and balls, turning the sounds of flesh on flesh filling the room decidedly wet. John wasn't sure how long they had been, thrusting in and out of her, how many times her tight little asshole somehow tightened even further around his cock in the throes of an orgasm when Curtis interrupted the rhythmic wet sounds with a grunt. "Fuck, I'm gonna fuckin' cum..."

"I want it so bad, baby," Carrie whined. "I want his fucking cum in me, please, baby..."

"Give her that cum," John commanded; that this command was both strange and fully unnecessary given their position was not lost on John, but it escaped his lips nonetheless.

"Oh god... oh... it's so hot..." Curtis's orgasm, which John could even slightly experience through Carrie, set off another of hers. When her asshole clamped down again on his cock, John knew he could hold out no longer and added his own steaming hot load to the mix, shooting a thick glob of cum into her asshole, quickly followed by another and another.

By the time Carrie had finally dismounted John, leaving in her trail a sloppy mess of three persons' fluids, Curtis had already fallen back, looking half awake as his muscular chest heaved.

Carrie pressed up against John, nuzzling her sweat-covered body into the gap between his arm and torso, her own heaving body falling into a rhythm with his own.

beep beep beep

The sound of a cell phone dislodged John from his post-coital nirvana and he instinctively craned his neck, turning it from side to side to try and locate the nuisance. He stretched his arm out in a vain attempt to reach the jeans he'd discarded earlier, which only succeeded in eliciting a grumble from Carrie, as it jostled her from her comfortable position, her head on his shoulder.

"Fuck," said Curtis, rousing himself with some effort from the foot of the chair against which he had been reclining awkwardly, evidently too drained to find a better position. "That's mine." He flopped awkwardly to the floor and retrieved his own jeans, quickly removing the phone from the pocket as it continued to insist loudly. "Hi, baby," he answered it.

John and Carrie both watched with mild interest as Curtis listened to what they could only guess was Ethan on the other end of the line.

"Uh huh, uh huh," Curtis spoke into the phone, nodding as he rolled his eyes. "Just hanging out with John." He paused, then added, "and Carrie."

There was more indistinct speech from the phone, and then Curtis responded. "Yeah, I'll tell her you say hi... Yeah, I fucked him."

More indistinct speech.

"Nah, I think he's probably a bit busy with Carrie at the moment," Curtis said, then shot John a wink. "Yeah, you know exes... uh-huh... Yeah, don't worry, I'm good. I'll be hard, no problem there..."

Carrie and John shared a look for a moment before turning their attention back to Curtis, who had already begun dressing himself again, awkwardly holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder to do so.

"Yeah, I'm sure Becky would like to see it," Curtis said. "But you know I'm not into dick tourism... Because it's fucking weird, that's why..."

More noises from the other end followed, Curtis shaking his head, an amused expression on his face.

"Yeah, hi, Becky. Yeah, no, I know you're not a racist... Uh huh, yeah, just tell Ethan I'll pick him up in a few minutes, alright. Don't worry, I don't think you're a racist."

After only a few more pleasantries, Curtis hung up the phone, slipping it into the pocket of the jeans he had managed to pull halfway on during the conversation.

"Ethan?" John asked, his fingers moving directionlessly along Carrie's side.

"Yeah, sorry, man, I gotta go," he said. "You know how it is."

"Uh huh," John replied.

Before he could say anything else, Carrie added an "Aww. I was just about to ask if you wanted to go again."

Curtis smiled that winning smile. "Maybe another time, sweetheart." He shot a look at John that read as meaningful but in which John could not find any particular meaning. "Alright, you two. Thanks for the, uh, game." He finished dressing and with a few friendly "bye"s slipped out the front door, leaving John and Carrie to bask in the afterglow alone.

No sooner had that front door closed than Carrie had climbed atop John and planted a deep kiss on his lips. "Holy shit," she said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she pulled away from the kiss. "That was like, fucking incredible. Do you guys do that shit all the time?"

He sat up and shrugged. "You mean have threesomes?" When she acknowledged his question with a nod, he continued. "I wouldn't say so, no. A couple times with Ethan, I guess. One time with them and that Liam guy I told you about."

She bit her lip. "But never, like, with a girl?"

John shook his head. Should I tell her about Chloe? Or Riley? She was asking about Curtis specifically, right?

She interrupted his thoughts with another kiss, then rolled off him and got to her feet. He couldn't help admiring not just her shapely ass, but also the way she let the cum drip from it without seeming to notice at all as she continued. "I mean, like... holy shit, that was fucking incredible. I've never even, like... just like fuck, I thought that was just a thing people do in porno, not like a real thing you can actually, like, do, just like wow..."

He rose to his feet beside her with a chuckle. "So I guess you enjoyed it, then?"

She smiled and let out a little laugh at his response. "Yes," she said, "you could say I enjoyed it. I mean, like, I've never cum so hard in my life, like ever, and you know me, I cum at like, the drop of a hat. Just, like, his cock... and like, you just like... fuck..."

He chuckled again as he wrapped an arm around her. "So should I be worried?"

Her face turned quickly from amazement to confusion. "What? Worried about what?"

"You know," he said, wrapping his other arm around her and looking into her eyes, "how they say 'once you go black...'?"

She laughed, bringing a hand up to her mouth to stifle it. "Oh, no," she said, "are you seriously going to get jealous now? You? Now?"

"Me?" John asked facetiously, raising his arms to the side and letting Carrie slip away from him as he did so. "Jealous? No..."

She turned as she reached the foot of the staircase to shoot him an incredulous look.

"I wouldn't say 'jealous'," he continued. "'Insecure'? Probably. Pathologically so, even? A distinct possibility."

She shook her head, rolling her eyes as she smiled. "Aww," she said, "are you seriously that worried about it?"

"Nah," he said. "I mean, just, you know. Now you found this other guy with a bigger cock and everything, you know, a guy who doesn't need fixing, I figure, I mean, it just occurs to me that maybe you don't need me."

She looked at him with a funny little smile on her face for a few moments, then responded. "Is his cock really bigger than yours? I didn't really notice." She turned and began walking up the stairs, leaving him to watch her beautiful round ass for a moment before he caught up to her. "You know," she continued, "I think I read somewhere that people perceive black cocks as bigger because of societal expectations. I mean, some are bigger, probably bigger on average or whatever, but, like, I mean if you have two cocks in front of you and they're the same size you just see the black one as bigger."

They stopped as they reached the top of the stairs, and she turned to look at him expectantly.

"You read that?" he asked. "Somewhere?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, I think so. I don't really remember."

He followed her into the bedroom, where she proceeded to flop down on the bed, lying face up and propping herself up on her elbows and watching him with that small smile on her face.

God, she's beautiful, he thought for the umpteenth time as she spread her legs ever so slightly.

"If you're worried I'm going to leave you for a better cock," she said. "The correct response is to get over here and remind me why I like yours so much."

He climbed onto the bed, crawling between her legs, and planted a soft kiss on her lips, pressing her back to the bed as he did so. He found himself grinning like an idiot but unable to stop as they broke off the kiss. "I'm not worried," he said.

He kissed her softly on the lips. Just as her tongue dipped into his mouth, he moved away, kissing across her face and down to her neck, eliciting a moan from her. He could feel his cock already begin to grow hard again as she drew him closer to herself, one hand on his lower back, the other on his shoulder, pressing him against the wet heat of her crotch.

He automatically began moving, sliding his cock up and down her slit, soaking it in her juices as it grew to full hardness. "Put it in," she whispered. "I want you inside me."

He complied, his cock head finding its own way to her opening without any assistance from either of their hands. With a gentle push, he slipped inside her, producing a wonderfully lewd noise as a mix of her juices and Curtis' cum squished out. "Mmm, fuck yes, baby," she moaned, "fuck that cum out of me."

He did just that, quickly working up thrusting speed as her pussy continued to make wet sounds that only made him somehow even harder inside her. He reached one hand under her, sliding it down to her perfect, soft ass and locating her asshole, which was leaking his sticky cum out onto the bed. He jammed a finger inside her and she came hard a second later, both her holes going wild as she squealed in delight.

He slid his finger out of her as he pushed himself up on one elbow and looking into her hungry eyes.

"Holy fuck," she said, continuing to move her hips in time with his even as she spoke. "I've never cum so fucking fast before."

He responded only with a smile and a playful look.

He slowed to a stop, holding his cock inside her and examined his cum coated finger. She followed his gaze for a moment, then, removing her hand from his back, grabbed him by the wrist, pulling it towards her mouth. "Don't stop fucking me," she said, then jammed the finger into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around it, cleaning the sticky mess off it. Having sucked it clean, she released his hand. "I said, 'don't fucking stop,'" she said, smacking his ass playfully.

He kissed her hard, jamming his tongue into her mouth as he started moving inside her again, sliding in and out of her extremely wet pussy quickly. "Mmm... mmm... mmm..." she let out a cute little moan each time his cock slammed into her, never breaking off the kiss even as she rapidly approached another orgasm. He slid his hand back down to her ass and, after a moments teasing of her hole, pushed his finger in once again. A few strokes later she was coming again, releasing a high-pitched squeal directly into his mouth as her pussy desperately milked him.

"Oh my fucking god," she gasped, "I love your cock."

He smiled. "Prove it," he said, pulling out suddenly and rising up on his knees, his hard dick standing proudly at attention.

Without missing a beat, she pulled a leg up, letting John out from between her thighs, and slid down the bed, bringing her face right up to his cock. She grabbed it and immediately locked her lips around the head, moving quickly from there to full-on face-fucking mode, gagging herself on it without apparent concern for the mix of fluids that poured out of the corners of her mouth and dripped down onto her bare chest in the process.

He sighed, letting himself enjoy the sensation of her furious sucking, then looked down to find her looking right back up at him as she worked, her eyes begging at once to let this continue and to put it back inside.

He pushed gently on her shoulder, leading her to lean back, drool running out of her mouth and an adorably confused look on her face. When she had become fully horizontal, he moved, straddling her face and prying her thighs apart in one fluid motion, then buried his face in her crotch.

Whatever confusion she had shown a moment before evidently vanished, as she immediately wrapped her lips around his cock once again as he slurped loudly at her exceedingly sloppy pussy, savoring the juices without concern for any particular direction. As they licked and sucked each other at a fever pitch, he felt her hand make its way to his ass cheek and he suppressed a shiver as her finger grazed his asshole. She toyed with it, running her fingertip around the rim a few times before pressing into him, sending a jolt of pleasure running up his spine. Even when he returned the favor, sliding his middle finger into her very sloppy asshole, she did not stop trying to suck the cum directly out of him.

For some indeterminate length of time they lay like that, licking and sucking and fingering, each giving as good as they got until finally, almost out of breath, she stopped and panted, "Please, will you please just cum inside me again?"

He stopped and wiped the delicious slime away from his face. "Pussy or ass?"

"Pussy," she answered as he climbed off her. She rolled onto her belly and pushed her ass up into the air. "Ass later. Your choice after that."

God I love this girl, he thought.

Wait, what?

"Put your fucking cock inside me, already," she interrupted his thoughts. "Thumb up my ass. And don't you dare pull out again."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered, taking his cock in hand. It slid into her sopping wet twat easily and soon he was pumping in and out of her at full speed.

"Finger in ass," she managed to spit out the words haltingly as his thrusts jostled her repeatedly.

He did as asked, placing one hand on her ass and quickly working the thumb into her butthole, which accepted him gladly, putting up no resistance.

"Oh, fuck," she groaned, her fingers already working her clit furiously, "I'm gonna fuckin' cum again... ah... ah..."

It really was impressive, he had to admit, how quickly she was able to reach orgasm today. He couldn't recall, even when they had first been together, fucking each others' brains out for days at a time, when she had cum so much or so often.

His musings were interrupted by a shriek of pleasure from Carrie as her hand stopped and her body was rocked with another orgasm. She slammed her ass back against him, driving him in as deep as she could manage; it was as if she transferred the orgasm directly to him because before he could even manage an "I'm coming", his cock unleashed a torrent of hot cum into her, jumping inside her and not stopping for some period of time that felt far too long to have been real.

He practically collapsed onto the bed and Carrie lay down beside him, pinning his arm down even as she casually toyed with the cum that was leaking from her pussy.

"Holy shit," John said after what he judged to be at least a minute of staring at the ceiling, catching his breath. He managed to wriggle free from under her, pushed himself up and swung his legs off the bed.

"Where are you going?" Carrie pulled the sheets down and then climbed inside, pulling the sheets back over herself as she sat up. She eyed hm closely.

"First to get some water," he replied. "Need to replenish some fluids."

She smiled an almost embarrassed-looking smile and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "And then?"

"And then figure out what we're going to do about dinner," he said. She looked at him expectantly but offered no words. "I assume we're done with the pretense that you're not sticking around at least through dinner."

"If you're offering..." she said.

"Not going to offer to help?" he asked, pulling on a fresh pair of boxers for the trip downstairs under her steady gaze.

She feigned consideration for a second before saying, "You make dinner, I choose what we watch. That seems like a fair deal to me."

"For certain values of 'fair'," he responded. "Alright, deal," he added before slipping out the door and down the stairs. He proceeded to the kitchen and downed a large glass of water, then headed back out to the living room and located his discarded jeans, almost by reflex locating the cell phone in the pocket and removing it.

He was somewhat surprised to see he had a text, but even more surprised to see whom it was from: Chloe. What's the over-under on her asking if I know where Carrie's been lately?

Can I call you?

He stared at the text for what he suspected was more than just a moment; it took Carrie's appearance, clothed in an old t-shirt of his, on the stairs, to snap him out of his trance. When he looked up at her, she got an odd look of mild confusion on her face. "Forget where the cups are or something?"

"Just got a text..." John responded.

Her face shifted to mild concern. "From...?"

"Chloe," he answered. "She wants to talk."

Carrie finished her trip down the stairs and came over to him. "Ok, so, what's the problem?"

"No problem," he responded as she pressed up against him, not so subtly looking at his phone. "I just figured she's probably looking for you. Anything in particular I should tell her?"

Carrie seemed to think it over for far too long, then said. "I doubt it. But it doesn't matter, just tell her whatever, you don't know where I am." She looked into his eyes for a second, then added, "Or whatever you want. You're not bound by girl code."

Not knowing what to make of this, he performed the series of button presses required to initiate a call.

"Hey," Chloe answered.

Carrie slunk over to where her shorts lay on the floor and retrieved her own phone while John waited for something more from Chloe.

"Uh, hey, what's up?" John said. He tried to force his stomach to stop doing somersaults. What the fuck, he thought, I'm not doing anything wrong, why does it still feel like I am?

"Hey, yeah, so...," Chloe started. "Sorry, I just, I kind of didn't think you would pick up."

"I called you, so..." John said, a smile forcing its way across his lips.

"Oh, right, duh, good one Chloe," she said. He could almost hear her cute little smile through the phone.

On the couch, Carrie pretended unconvincingly to be interested in her phone.

"Anyways," Chloe continued, "the reason I called, I mean, the reason you called, I mean, you know what I mean, the reason is that, so, I kind of wanted to... ask a favor?"

The way her voice rose at the end of the sentence simultaneously gave John pause and put in his mind an image of her adorable, smiling face.

"Ask away," John replied.

"Yeah, so, you know how we were, I mean you and me, we were, well, you know..." she started, trailing off.

He felt his face twist involuntarily into a curious expression, which Carrie picked up and reflected back. "We were...?"

She sighed. "We were dating and so I kind of told people, I mean, I told my family we were dating and so then now it's Thanksgiving and they were kind of really expecting you to come to Thanksgiving but then..."

"But then we broke up," John finished the sentence for her, unhappily.

She sighed again. "Yeah but I kind of... I didn't exactly tell them that part so they're still expecting you to be there and Cammy's going to bring her boyfriend and just, like, it's a whole thing and so I was just..."

Carrie eyed him, no longer pretending whatsoever as he waited for Chloe to finish.

"Actually, you know what," she said, "I'm stupid, I should never have called."

"I called you," John said.

She let out a frustrated little laugh. "Yeah, I mean," she said, "I should just let you go, I'm so sorry, this is probably horrible for you and... I'm sorry, I'm just gonna..."

"No, no, no, don't," he interrupted her. "Just what were you going to ask?"

"I was going to ask if... god I'm an idiot, and I know it's, like, horrible and emotionally fraudulent and everything but I was going to ask if maybe you wouldn't mind kind of going with me?"

"To your parents' house?"

"Yeah..."

"For Thanksgiving?"

"Uh huh..."

"So that they think we're still dating, you mean?" John found himself smiling, despite himself.

"Yeah, and I know, I'm stupid and a baby and it's a horrible thing for me to ask and..."

"I'll go," John's answer surprised even himself with its suddenness. On the couch, Carrie failed to suppress a curious look.

There was a short but noticeable silence before she answered. "Oh my god, really? I mean, I know it's horrible so we can just go for the dinner and then peace out and I will totally owe you dinner and, oh, I guess maybe not dinner since it's already dinner but I'll owe you something."

"A turkey dinner sounds like payment enough," he said.

"Really?" she sounded genuinely surprised. "Um, ok, great!" There was another pause, and then she added, "And actually could I kind of ask... another favor?"

"Christmas? New Year's with the fam? Cousin's christening or something? I'm available as a fake boyfriend for Bar Mitzvahs should the need arise." he responded.

She laughed a short little laugh that was no less endearing for its length. "No, I wouldn't... I mean, so since we're going that way, anyway, would you mind if we maybe picked up my sister from college on the way? Pretty please? I'll owe you, like, two dinners. A second turkey dinner. I don't know."

He found he could not suppress the smile on his face. "Ah, I guess I'm driving, too."

"Ah," she said, "I meant to say three dinners."

"Can I maybe substitute a breakfast or anything?" John asked.

"Mmm..." Chloe answered. "No, dinners or no deal."

"Alright, deal. Ok, so Thursday?" he asked.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Chloe began, her hesitance immediately telling John this would not be so quickly handled, "Cammy's school is kind of far and everything and so I was kind of thinking could we maybe leave on Wednesday?"

"Three dinners?" he repeated.

"Three dinners, minimum," she responded.

"Wednesday it is," John replied, sighing through his smile.

"You're the best," she replied. "I'll text you the details?"

"Alright," he replied, ending the conversation.

"What was that?" Carrie's face looked surprisingly apprehensive when John looked up from the phone. Her phone, still clinched in her hand, had long since gone to a black screen.

"Seems like I've got Thanksgiving plans after all," he responded. He moved to the couch and flopped down beside Carrie, whose eyes never left him.

"With Chloe?" she asked. Her expression was unreadable.

He sighed. "Yeah, I guess she needs somebody to... it's a whole thing."

Carrie looked down at her phone, flipping it back on so that it showed the time, but not unlocking it. "Oh," she said. "So like..." She trailed off, not looking up at him.

"It's not," he began, then quickly tried to reformulate the sentence. "She doesn't want to get back together or anything." He forced out a laugh. "Actually she just wants me to pretend for the sake of her parents. I guess she didn't tell them yet, was too embarrassed by it or something. So that should be fun. But, hey, that's what I get for dating a twenty-two year old, right?"

She looked back up at him, studying his face for a moment. "Yeah," she said. The laugh that followed was wholly unconvincing. "Serves you right. You get to do all the worst parts of boyfriending and won't even get your dick sucked for the trouble." She blinked a couple times, then added, "Are you going to be alright?"

"For Thanksgiving?" he replied. "Yeah, I think I'll manage. I'll just drown my sorrows in gravy or something. Should be fine."

"Ok," she replied in a tone that told him it wasn't but that he shouldn't push the matter.

"Yeah," he sighed. "So, dinner?"

"Yeah," she replied. Just as John moved toward the kitchen to begin figuring out what to make, she added. "Let me know if you need any help."