A Baumgartner Christmas (9 page)

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

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

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

“Jeez.”

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

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

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

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

“Maybe someday I’ll get lucky
too.”

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

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

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

“I came hoping.”

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

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

Carrie smiled. “Let’s go
upstairs.”

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

It was a clear invitation and
Carrie took it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on.” Carrie held out her
hand.

“Your room or mine?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmmmm!” Daphne rolled her hips up,
her belly almost concave as she rocked, her hands moving up over the curving
slope of her stomach to cup her own breasts. They were almost as big as
Carrie’s, at least a C-cup, maybe a D, definitely more than a handful. Carrie
glanced up to see them rising up like hills with pink nippled peaks.

“Put your fingers in me,” Daphne
instructed as Carrie traced the labyrinth of hot, pink flesh under her tongue,
looking for the center. “Fuck me too. I love that.”

Carrie found her entrance,
probing gently, parting her, but Daphne wasn’t having that. She bucked her
hips, shoving Carrie’s fingers in deep, moaning loudly. The taste of her was
making Carrie dizzy with longing, so fucking sweet and musky in her mouth,
Daphne’s pussy responsive under her tongue, wiry red hair tickling her nose.
Carrie didn’t ever want to stop licking her, tasting her, exploring every
crevice, but Daphne was too eager for release.

“Please!” Daphne begged, panting
with passion, her pussy swollen and hot under Carrie’s tongue, her muscles clamping
down on Carrie’s fingers. “Come on! Make me come! Make me come!”

Carrie couldn’t resist her
friend’s plea, fastening her mouth over Daphne’s mound and focusing her
attention on her friend’s clit as she fingered Daphne’s pussy fast and hard.
Daphne squeezed and tugged and twisted her own nipples until they were red and
raw, a low, guttural sound building in her throat.

“Ohhhhhhhhh!” Daphne cried, ass
clenching, hips shuddering, thighs quivering. She was almost there, Carrie
could feel it, she could
taste
it, and she wanted nothing more than to
take her friend there. “Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Yes! Fuck me! I’m coming! Coming!”

And she was, drowning Carrie in
her juices, her cunt snapping shut on her fingers again and again, the muscles
there so tight around her fingers it almost hurt—she couldn’t even imagine how
good it would feel around a man’s cock. Daphne’s moans tapered off to whimpers
as Carrie slowly withdrew her sticky fingers, licking them clean before
climbing up next to her friend on the bed.

“Sleepy,” Daphne murmured, her
eyes still closed, a slow smile on her face.

Carrie pulled the covers over
them both. “Probably too much sun this afternoon.”

“Let’s take a nap until dinner.”
Daphne rolled toward her so they were belly to belly, both of them smiling,
satisfied.

“Then I have an idea,” Carrie
said. “Let’s surprise Doc at the door.”

“Sounds interesting.” Daphne
opened one eye, then closed it again. “What did you have in mind?”