Babes in Toyland II

by Aspen Mountain Press Authors

  "Maybe they're asleep."

  "In the same bed?"

  Marcie laughed again. “You know they could be talking like you and I are doing."

  A look of relief crossed Dave's face. “Yeah, yeah, you're right. Thanks. Besides, Shari is really ... yeah, they're not doing anything."

  A staccato knocking at the door interrupted them.

  "Marcie, could you come out for a minute, please?"

  "Shari? Sure, just a minute."

  Marcie turned to Dave and shrugged.

  * * * *

  Shari spoke without preamble. “Marcie, I need to talk to Dave. Now, before I lose my nerve. Is it okay with you if you spend the night with Frank?” She laughed nervously. “Or if I wind up coming back in two minutes and borrowing a blanket while I sleep on the couch?"

  Marcie shook her head. “I'll be very surprised to see you before morning, but don't worry. I'll leave the door unlocked."

  Shari gave her a swift hug. “Thanks, hon. I owe you."

  "Damn straight."

  * * * *

  Dave stared at the door. Now what? He went over to the window and looked out at the snow still steadily falling. The drifts were almost halfway up the windows. Even with conserving the generator fuel, it was going to be tight. Shit. Why hadn't he called that son of a bitch caretaker beforehand?

  A cool breeze across his backside announced the door opening. “Marcie? What did Shari ... Shari?"

  She stood just inside the room as if afraid he'd send her away. She looked adorable in his t-shirt and bare feet. Adorable and on the verge of tears.

  Four strides brought him to her and he touched her cheek. “What's wrong?"

  She took a deep breath. “Dave, please sit down. I need to show you something."

  He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed.

  "Thanks."

  She opened the closet door and pulled out the smaller of the two suitcases she'd brought with her. She carried it over to the floor in front of the bed and unlocked it. Taking a deep breath, she nodded, looked up at Dave and turned the case around so he could see the contents.

  "What the fu...? Shari?” He closed his eyes for a second then opened them. “You weren't looking for a story that night at the club were you? You belong to it."

  She shook her head. “Belonged to it. I haven't been back since we met."

  "Why? You afraid I'd arrest you? It's not illegal, you know, only when someone gets killed or uses one as a cover for something that is illegal.” He laughed harshly. “You're safe. You can go back at any time. You didn't have to fuck me to not arrest you."

  She shoved the case across the floor and rose to her knees before him, her arms outstretched in supplication. “Please, please, David. I didn't want ... I don't want to hurt you."

  He reached down and hauled her up by the elbows, their faces an inch apart. “No. You want me to hurt you. Right?"

  She licked her lips and nodded. “Please?"

  Chapter Three

  Dave threw open the curtains, letting in the moonlight. He stripped his t-shirt from Shari, took the flashlight he'd placed on the dresser earlier and turned it on. He played it over her body, examining her.

  "There aren't any bruises. Why not?"

  She stood stock still, her voice quivering. “Didn't you ever wonder why we never made love with the lights on? And you came to my apartment at night and usually left while I was neatly tucked under the covers with the shades drawn.” She took a deep breath. “And when you fucked me, hard, in that alley, it was dark, too. Remember?” Her body started trembling, but she didn't move. “The bruises faded.” She gulped in air. “I thought, I hoped, we would make love this weekend with the lights on.” She sank to her knees, her head in her hands. “I thought maybe ... maybe I could tell you and you wouldn't ... hate me."

  "I don't hate you.” His soft voice wrapped around her heart. She heard the sound of the lamp clicking on and saw the dim glow pooling on the floor.

  "In fact ... Look at me, Shari."

  She lifted her eyes and gazed into his.

  "Get the case."

  She made as if to stand.

  "No. Crawl and get it."

  Shari tried not to hope. Could he possibly mean it? She got up on all fours and moved toward the suitcase.

  "Pick out your favorites and bring them over here."

  Shari's heart raced. Her fingers fumbled as she made her selection. She started to crawl back, but Dave stopped her.

  "Just bring them to the bed, Shari, and join me."

  * * * *

  Dave stretched out on the lumpy mattress and waited. Well, he wanted to know more about Shari and he certainly did now. His mouth grew as dry as the dust beneath the couch in the living room as Shari approached the bed.

  His thoughts raced.

  Hell, he should have realized. He never had to be too gentle with her. She gave as good as she got and then some if he asked for it. But if he were honest with himself, at the back of his mind, he always felt she never quite let go completely.

  Now he knew he had been right.

  And now he didn't need to restrain his own desires. He could be as rough as he wanted. “What do you have?"

  Shari held out her hands. In one, she had a set of cuffs, in the other, nipple clamps.

  Dave chuckled. “If I had known you wanted to be cuffed, I would have brought my pair from work."

  Shari smiled tentatively. “Yours aren't padded in faux fur. I wouldn't think you used yours for anything other than cuffing dangerous people."

  Dave's growled whisper caressed her. “You're dangerous to my peace of mind. What about a collar? Do you wear one?"

  "No, but I do have one. I don't like giving up all my control.” She gave him a teasing glance. “Sometimes I like to be in charge. You certainly seem to know about these things."

  This time Dave couldn't keep in the laughter. “Babe, I've been working vice for a few years now. You don't think I've learned anything?” He leaned forward and patted the bed. “Get over here. Now. I want you within reach."

  Shari put one knee on the mattress and he hauled her into his arms. He gripped her chin and her lips opened allowing him to plunge his tongue deep within and tangle with hers.

  With one quick motion, he shifted her so that she straddled him, her shaved pussy rubbing against his arousal. He reached between them and pressed down on the throbbing little bundle of nerves.

  Her breath hissed between her teeth and she wrenched her mouth away. She stared at him and licked her lips.

  "Put the clamps on me. Please?"

  Dave gazed at the interlocking metal circles and then at Shari. Her nipples were tight, begging to be sucked. Licked, bitten.

  Loved.

  He bent and took one luscious tip between his lips and suckled—hard. He squeezed the poor neglected one and twisted.

  "Oh, God, Dave, why are you making me wait? It feels so good when you do that, but I need even more.” Her voice quavered. “Please, please, please—"

  He bit down hard and she arched further into his mouth. She took his hand, folded it over the clamps and grabbed his head, pressing it against her breast, threading her fingers through his short, silky curls.

  "Oh, God, that's good, so good, so—ahh."

  She sank onto his penis and slowly moved up and down, her buttocks slapping against his thighs. She moaned.

  "I love the feel of your penis in me. It's so slick. So ... hard. So ... good."

  Dave thrust up, lifting her. He smiled. “You like my prick?” He thrust harder, deeper. “Never asked. Am I your first circumcised lover?"

  She nodded, beyond speech.

  "It's a whole different sensation, right?” He laughed. “No wonder you like it better without a condom.” He fumbled around in the sheets until he found the clamps, placed them on her engorged nipples and tightened them.

  She whimpered.

  "You like that, babe? I'll make them tighter, real tight."

  He watched as she
winced and then sighed with pleasure. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she flung her head back, trying to catch her breath. He grasped her ass and squeezed, spreading her cheeks and speeding his movements. Shari gasped, thrilling him with her response. He increased the clamps’ pressure again.

  And she flexed her inner muscles, milking him.

  Now he groaned.

  How much more could he take? How much more could she take? How much more could she give him?

  He grabbed her shoulders, then cupped her flushed face. “Look at me, babe. I'm gonna pull out and turn you over on your belly and then..."

  "And then?"

  "And then I'm gonna cuff you and fuck your brains out."

  He pushed her off none too gently and brought her hands together above her head. With the ease of long practice, he cuffed and looped her hands over the raised center of the headboard. She lay naked, face down, her curved behind like a ripe plum.

  "You are so fucking beautiful, Shari. Every single, fucking inch."

  She turned her head around, her lips rosy and bruised, her eyes mesmerizing him with their intensity. “Spank me first. I should be punished for not telling you sooner what I like the best."

  "Should I use the flat of my hand?"

  "Yes, please. Please?"

  Dave knelt behind her and raised her ass. He placed his legs on either side of hers and took a moment to run his hands across her soft, creamy skin. God, he hated to mar her. But it was what she wanted and he wanted to give her what she asked for. Then he'd kiss her stinging flesh and make her beg him to make love to her.

  Smack! Smack!

  "You should never keep secrets from me. Not if you don't wish to be punished."

  Whack! Whack!

  "Don't ever lie to me again."

  Swat! Swat!

  "Swear it!"

  He raised his hand for one more blow, but Shari forestalled him.

  "I swear! I swear! Oh, God, I don't want to wait any longer. Now, make love to me, I'm begging you!"

  Dave drew closer to her lightly bruised and reddened flesh and, as slow as thick, rich honey pouring from the jar, he laved her tender behind with his tongue.

  "Oh, God,” she moaned and arched her back.

  He swirled the tip of his tongue back and forth between the two dimples at the base of her spine, then reached around and twisted the nipple clamps again.

  She jumped.

  "Jesus! Fuck me now!"

  "Your wish is my command."

  And he began the slow inexorable thrusts.

  She moaned as his penetration increased bringing her closer and closer to a cataclysmic orgasm.

  And then he was right there with her.

  * * * *

  "Why are you torturing yourself?"

  Marcie's voice reeked with something too close to pity for Frank's taste. He tried and failed to block the passionate cries emanating from the other room. And the bed banging.

  "Damn it to hell, that's it! I've fucking had it. I don't give a shit what happens. I'm telling Dave tomorrow that I'm gay."

  Marcie got up from the bed and moved over to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. She leaned her head against him and sighed.

  "Oh, sweetie, are you sure? Can't it wait until we get back to the city?"

  Frank shrugged off her hand.

  "And what if ... what if somehow we don't get out of here? What if the snowplow doesn't get here in time?” He laughed. “I know that's nuts. We're not going to die here. People expect us home this week and if we don't show they'll come after us and the snowplow's bound to come up here eventually.” He took a deep breath. “But if I let myself think that I'll have another chance to tell him, I'll never do it. It's gotta be now."

  "And will you tell him that you love him?"

  Frank sagged onto the bed. “I don't know."

  * * * *

  "That's it. You're catering my first gallery showing. If you can make crackers and honey taste gourmet, imagine what you could do with real food.” Marcie took a last swig of her lukewarm coffee and crumpled up her napkin.

  "Gallery showing? Your portfolio? Someone is hosting a show for you? Why didn't you tell me?” Shari squealed, jumping up and hugging Marcie.

  "I was going to this weekend. It's going to be the week after next. I still can't believe it."

  Dave grinned. “Guess I'll be seeing your work sooner than we thought. Congratulations, Marcie."

  "Yeah, that's fantastic. Have you selected the pictures yet?” Frank asked.

  Marcie swirled her coffee with her finger then licked off the tepid liquid. She made a face, then slapped on a happy smile.

  "Well, I did bring some 8x10s to look through while we were up here—just in case Frank and I hated each other's guts and I locked him out of the bedroom and wedged a chair under the knob to keep him from bashing it down.” She turned an innocent look on the three others. “Kidding. And you know we don't hate each other.” She grinned. “I actually like him.” She sighed. “Gosh, lighten up. I brought them because, well, I wasn't sure I'd picked the right ones and I thought maybe getting some objective opinions would help me make up my mind.” She smiled tentatively. “I still can't believe someone thinks my work is that good."

  "We'll look at them as soon as I clear the table. You go bring them in here. There's better light and we can ... there's better light!” Shari's voice broke. “The snow's stopped completely. The sun's coming out! It didn't even hit me until now."

  Dave strode to the small window by the kitchen door. He wiped off some of the grime and peered through the small patch of clean glass. “The sun's shining so bright, the glare is blinding. If we're lucky, the plow may get up here by tomorrow or Monday.” He took a deep breath. “We'd better hope so, because the snow is more than halfway up the window and the drifts are even higher."

  "Shit.” Frank spat the word out.

  Marcie laughed bitterly. “Well, I guess that says it all."

  "Hey, if the plow doesn't get here by tonight, we'll say to hell with conserving and make a huge fire. They usually send up helicopters after storms like this, just to make sure no one is stranded. They'll see the smoke from the chimney and plow us out and we'll be fine.” Dave spoke with authority, managing to calm their fears for the moment. “Let's look at Marcie's photos."

  * * * *

  "Well, those are the ones we all agree that we like the best.” Marcie pointed to a stack of twenty-four pictures and then to a smaller pile. “And these are the ones we're not sure of. I need twelve more to present to Josh. Any ideas?"

  "Let's talk about why we're not in agreement about them. Maybe we can see a common theme for our reasons.” Frank's suggestion made sense and he picked up the first one and passed it around the circle.

  "Too commercial. I mean, two kids and a dog?” Dave sniffed.

  "But see the dog's a rescue dog and there's the blurred image of a bombed out building in the background.” Shari pointed out.

  "No. I see Dave's point. The subject's been done to death. Too hokey.” Marcie took the picture from Frank and turned it face down. She chose another one. “How about this?"

  "Oh, I like this one.” Shari grinned. “It is so wicked."

  Marcie smiled. “I took that at a friend's engagement shower. We hired two male strippers for her. Only problem was, I hired one and her sister-in-law to be hired another. They both showed up at the same time. A cop and a fireman. The fireman comes in all his gear, says there's been a report of a gas leak and he's looking to see if it's from her gas fireplace. He takes off his yellow slicker and he's wearing these tight pants and when he kneels to examine the fireplace, they split. Well, just then, Lorraine ushers into the room the cop stripper she hired, he sees the fireman's thong-clad butt and goes nuts. Seems they work for the same agency, have a grudge going—some relationship gone wrong—and they start fighting, ripping each other's costumes and, well, I almost peed my panties. See, I took this just after they'd made up. They left with their hands
down each other's banana slings and their tongues down their throats. But it's the looks on the faces of the girls at the party that really does it. They ranged the gamut from horror to envy.” Marcie nodded. “I like it.” She grinned. “It shows my manic side.” She placed it on the second pile. “Let's keep going."

  * * * *

  The morning passed by quickly while they selected the rest of the pictures.

  "Thanks, guys. I think the ones that will be in the show are the best ones I've done.” Marcie rubbed the back of her neck. “How about we take a break and do something wild and crazy?"

  Three pairs of eyes looked at her in shock.

  "What? I wasn't going to suggest we go out hiking in the snowdrifts. I thought maybe we'd play ‘spin the dreidle’ a little earlier. I could use a little relaxation.” She licked her lips. “And then we can play again tonight. There's no rule that says we can only spin once a day. Come on.” She sauntered over to the door to the living room and paused. “Well? Any takers?"

  Frank stood up. “Sure, why not. Gotta do it sooner or later—play, I mean."

  "Dave shrugged. “Fine by me."

  * * * *

  Frank watched as the top teetered on its tip. He didn't know whether to be happy or afraid. No, strike that. He knew he was afraid. Would he be lucky or not? Right now he was down to his boxers. One more spin and he'd be naked—the winner in this crazy game. He knew Marcie was hoping he'd hold off telling Dave. She really cared for his feelings and feared Dave's reaction but he knew his friend didn't have a bigoted bone in his body. That he wouldn't hate the fact that he was gay, just that he'd kept it a secret all these years. No, he hoped Dave would forgive his lack of trust, his lack of guts. But would he forgive him for falling in love with him?

  "Shin, Frank. Take it off, bro. Let's show the ladies the difference between a man and a pencil dick.” Dave's gleeful joking brought a groan from Marcie and Shari.

  "Look, man,” Marcie shot back. “I think the term you're looking for Frank is mighty sword."

  Shari giggled. “How about massive club?"

  "How about Dave and I leave you two little girls to play Xena and Gabrielle?” Frank got up and dropped his drawers. “Souvenir, ladies. Don't fight over it. Come on, Dave. We'll go over what you'll need to do to get the cabin ready to be rented.” He turned and left the room, heading to the bedroom he shared with Marcie.