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Amanda / Carol / Garth / Laura

When I got home from work, Carol wasn't home. It's not all that strange, but these breaks in routine are noticeable because that's what they are. Deviations from the regular flow of our lives. Carol was usually home before me, given that she worked early shifts, and that usually meant she was home first, too, after picking up dinner for us both. Sometimes she was home and gone again, and that usually meant that I'd be home alone until whenever she was done doing whoever.

I mean whatever.

So it was Thursday, no Carol in sight. No note on the table, which was a little off, she was usually very good about letting me know what she was off to. What am I to her? I'm Amanda, her girlfriend for the last four years. Yeah, yeah, I know. She's a husky, I'm a mouse, yes I squeak when she bites me, and she barks when I lick her. Yes she's deliciously curvy and I'm petite. Can we move past the obvious comparisons and on to the story I'm trying to tell here?

Thank you.

So it's Thursday night, she's off probably fishing. That's what we call it, anyway, a fishing expedition. I'm still not all that happy with how hot it is when she goes and finds a guy. Sometimes she brings him home. Sometimes she just brings his mess with her. It's troubling every time because as much as I can't say it openly, it's just. Fucking. Hot. We've got a dozen chips of home movies from these expeditions. Only once or twice a month, most of the time. Guys will fall all over her any time she winks. Glorious curves, padding in all the right places, a voice like velvet and smoke. She dances like a stripper after a couple of drinks, too, so if she was at a bar, I had little doubt she'd be bringing home a boy or two.

It was getting late, and I had work in the morning. I was a little worried, since she hadn't called or come home yet, but all of that could easily be explained as Carol, a few drinks in and having a good time. She had Friday off, so I was expecting a little bit of bad behavior from her.

She still hadn't come home the next morning, but I did have a message waiting for me when I stepped out of the shower. Just a picture, of Carol wearing a too-large dress shirt and boxers.

[Whose are those?]

[Guy I met at Dave's last night. Garth. Ex-cop, you'd like him, he sounds very South Boston.]

[So what, are you going to run away with him to Long Island?]

[No, I'll be home tonight, spoilsport.]

Which was fine by me, and I needed to head to work.

I keep my phone on emergencies only while I'm at work. I still need to have it, of course, no one can really disconnect in this day and age. But if I didn't keep the notifications off, Carol would keep sending me distractions. As it was, she'd probably have a queue of them waiting for me. Lunch break.

I wasn't wrong, but she'd clearly had a morning already. I knew better than to open my messages without earbuds in, and without having my back to a wall. She had habits. And clearly she wasn't giving up on those today.

[Hey silly mouse, there's a bunch of videos in your inbox, but you sure aren't going to want to share them. You know what to do about it.]

I did, and found a corner chair in the break room, settled earbuds in place. Special kind, nice fit for murine ears. Low volume too, we don't need it loud to get clear sound. Good thing too, the first video was already extremely explicit.

Carol, still in the boxers and dress shirt. Dark blue, both of them. She was holding the camera up and away, classic selfie angle, so I had a great view of tan and white canine with a hand in her hair and a dick in her mouth. Nothing fast or aggressive, the camera wasn't shaking much or anything, but a good few minutes of Carol happily sucking a dick.

Not a lot of sound on that one, but very clear, what there was. Carol's all enthusiasm. That's what huskies are, enthusiasm wrapped in fur. And that was enthusiastic sucking and swallowing, all right. Look, I'm not into guys, I'm not a guy. I don't know sucking a dick from licking a popsicle. Carol's into everyone, and every shape, and I'm very, very into her. Carol's enthusiasm is not picky.

Whatever his name was (Garth?) was certainly having a good time.

The second video clip was a lower angle, her phone on the floor looking up. Still blow job in progress, but I could see her throat and chin. And not focus on the guy, he was less important to me than watching my lover's throat getting stuffed again and again while he held her hair. I got the feeling she was pushing harder than he was pulling, which wouldn't surprise me even a little. Enthusiasm, thy name is husky.

She got what she was after, with his balls on her chin, swallowing and swallowing as I saw his knees go wobbly. The last bit before the clip cut out was a splatter on the camera, something (okay, not "something" it was very clearly spunk) dripping off her chin.

A third clip was from her point of view, looking down at the top of his head. No hair, just fur, tan and white. He had muscles, too, not a small guy. Granted, with his face between her thighs, only one muscle was really relevant, and from the view of her camera, he was strong and clever enough with that one, too. Quaking stomach, sounds of pleasure, Carol thoroughly enjoying getting serviced.

That was it, and it was all I had time for at lunch. I didn't doubt there'd be more after work. In fact, it was a challenge to get back into the groove of work at all. I kept imagining the way her throat filled, the splatter on the camera. Kept wondering what it would be like to have her swallow me like that. Not, like... vore or whatever. To have a dick and feel her throat tight around it. Could be fun, you know?

Best I've been able to do is a feeldoe, but even that's pretty goddamn fun to choke her with.

So getting back to work was a challenge. I was not very productive, but a Friday afternoon isn't exactly expected to be the most productive chunk of a work week. We were in the middle of an archival project, reading through thousands of pages of old documents to cross check the synthetic intelligence readings. Old census documents, military dispatches, journals, letters. We're not looking for anything in particular, just training a new synthetic to process this stuff. It's a little hard to teach a computer to read the handwriting of millions of different people across a millennium and change.

I only managed a handful of document checks that afternoon, but the moment five o'clock hit I was out and gone. And there were messages for me. No video clips this time, just text and one picture.

[Garth was nice enough to walk me home so I fed him some lunch.]

[Hey, I've got a plan, let's all three go out to dinner!]

[Okay, make that four, Garth has a friend he thinks you'd like. Yes, he knows the whole deal with you and me. And has told his friend. So it's going to be a really weird double date. Sort of.]

The picture came next in sequence. Under a table, and clearly it wasn't Carol taking the picture, I could see both of her hands. One on each of her knees, wide apart, still wearing those boxers. There was another similar view, under the table, in tawny fur. Feline, powerful muscles and long tail. She was wearing... much less. Looked like a skirt and nothing underneath. I had a very good view of some very nice pink amid that tan. Carol knew what made me blush, alright.

[Come meet us at Sola Soul, sweetheart. We'll have dinner and talk about dessert.]

I was already at the bus stop, and just had to look up which stops to take.

Sola Soul is such a nice joint in summer. The dining room has huge windows that they just open wide, and it's on a balcony three stories up, overlooking the harbor. Gorgeous views and sea breezes. I stopped on my way in, scanning the heads. So many ears, so many hairstyles, so many colors. Scent was useless in such a crowd. I needn't have worried, really, Carol saw me first, stood up and waved me over. Still wearing boxers and that shirt.

She wasn't alone, and I finally got a good look at the boxer she'd borrowed those boxers from. Not huge, muscly though, he clearly spent some time in the gym. He was wearing plain clothes, but he wore them like a uniform, neat and precise. The lady across from him was as feline as she'd appeared in the picture. Long tail, yes. Rounded ears and a messy mane of auburn hair told a slightly different story. And even from halfway across the room, the predator in those green eyes was strong.

Carol beckoned me over, and gestured at the seat across from her, which put me next to Garth. And as far as the booth would allow from the smilodon. Which should have made me feel a little more comfortable, but didn't mitigate that raised-hair-on-my-neck urge to bolt. I was not going to be able to eat dinner if she kept looking at me like I was the meal.

"Ease up on the hungry, Laura. My mousey babe is reading you loud and clear, but she doesn't trust you enough yet to get into it." Yet? "So tone down the teeth, sweet thing. Plenty of time for that later."

I couldn't tell you exactly what she did to tone down on that feeling. Whatever she had been doing to project 'I'm going to eat you alive', she stopped doing. Weird how she could control that, but I read the message clear, and it let me relax a little bit more. Good thing, I was actually hungry, too.

The chatter kept up, mostly without me having to put too much into it, through ordering drinks and picking up some appetizers. They do these biscuits, I can't tell you how good they are, you've just got to go. It's like if bread was made of sharp cheese and butter. It's unreal. I'm a pretty good cook and I can't even get close. So we got a plate of those, and a bowl of chicken bites. And drinks. It was a Friday night, the place was packed, I was feeling every tiny flicker of 'prey surrounded by predators' anxiety like a giant pulse. So of course I ordered an Amaretto sour and tried to find a little stability in alcoholic lemonade.

It actually helped a little, and having Carol there helped a lot. I felt a paw sliding against my calf, and she grinned at me from across the table. Yeah, playing footsie, not the worst way to wait for food to show up. Between the Amaretto and an amorous husky, I had managed to calm down pretty well by the time plates arrived, and everyone dug in. What each ordered told a lot. Garth had a burger, he clearly hadn't been here before. Sola Soul does seafood mostly, the three ladies knew that, or Carol had clued Laura in without the other dog noticing.

Fish and chips for me, glazed salmon for Carol, and Laura had a nice rare hunk of tuna, salted, seared and served. There was a lot of happy noises, but not a lot of conversation, for fifteen minutes or so. Finally broken by the smilodon.

"Wow, that is some good stuff. You'd never know it was synthetic."

Carol grinned. "Yeah, these folks take their work seriously. Gotta have the taste, texture, color, all of it, or they won't serve it. Burger's easier to get right, more reliable choice, but man, if you're willing to trust the chef here... seafood like it actually came from the sea. Next best thing to catching it yourself, and a lot easier."

I nodded. "Well worth the wait for a table. Did you guys have to wait long? I came straight from work, but it looked like you had been here for a little while."

Carol grinned and shook her head. "That picture was taken a couple minutes after we sat down, maybe fifteen minutes before you got here. Plenty of time to sip some things and chat. Chatting got us here, too, so why don't we clue my favorite mouse into the whole evil plan."

"Evil plan?" I felt like I ought to have been more worried about that than I actually was, but it's hard to really be scared when Carol's plotting evil. In her case that usually means I'm going to be so embarrassed my ears try to ignite, and completely unable to admit how fucking hot it is. The other two involved added a layer of concern, though.

"Sure," Carol continued. "After Garth got done plowing me this morning, we had some knot time to chat. Touched on you, and just how good you are to me. Seriously mousey," she was still smiling, and reached across to take my hand and give it a squeeze. "You are way better than I deserve, and thank you for helping me get my kicks. Much as I know it does things for you, you're doing it for me and my appetites, and I owe you thanks for that. But that's where he asked a kinda pointy question. What've I done to pay you back?"

"You know that's not why I said yes, Carol. I love you, and what makes you happy makes me happy."

She stuck her tongue out at me, but we both knew it was true. Maybe not as simple as all that, but true. "As true as that may be, he raised a good point. I do owe you some special treatment for how well you've treated me, it's only fair. You indulge me all over the place. And oh my, did he suggest a wonderful little way to indulge you. So you know what we're going to do?"

I was feeling very, very uncertain, all of a sudden. "Um? N-no?"

"Me and Garth are going to settle back down on the couch at our place, while Laura takes you in the bedroom and just absolutely wrecks you. You remember that little strawberries and chocolate date?" I nodded. I sure couldn't forget being bound, blinded, and teased into a sodden mess while fed tidbits of dessert. A "treat" Carol had arranged for me a few months back. "Laura's from the same company, learned from the same folks, but this isn't a, um... what'd you call it?"

Laura's voice had shifted a little, deeper and smoother, with a heavy dose of Kentucky velvet creeping in. "This isn't a professional house call. I'm not on a contract or anything, which means less paperwork, but also means I have to be extra careful not to actually, you know, wreck you. I spent fifteen minutes chatting with Vanessa, got her read on you. Between her and Carol, I think I've got a decent handle on what works for you. Plus I have advantages neither of them do." She got up from her seat, and I realized, finally, how fucking big she was.

Massive! Over six feet, easy, and muscles like a war goddess. Wasn't a skirt, on her, it was a kilt, segments of leather that folded into one another, came down to her knees, and a corset to match, all in leather dyed the same shade as her hair, and studded with brass hardware. She looked like a warrior queen, and probably on purpose. I didn't realize I was staring until she moved, around the table, and came to stand next to me, looming over. I was trapped. Seat behind me, boxer to my left, table in front, and looming sabertooth on my right. No way out.

She continued her drawl. "See, Vanessa told me how much you seemed to really enjoy being able to struggle when you were sure it was safe. And Carol told me so much about the way your knees get weak and your panties get wet when you're overpowered by someone with sharp teeth." She flashed hers, and I wanted to glare at Carol for sharing that one. But I was too fixated on the aforementioned teeth and anyway, she was fucking right. I was an easy mark, in that respect.

"So how about it?" Laura leaned on the back of my seat, over me, keeping me trapped. "Are you going to walk back to your place with us, or should I carry you over my shoulder like a stolen prize?"

I don't really remember the trip home. I had spent to long frozen and stammering, and Laura had just laughed, picked me up, and carried me out over her shoulder. I had a pretty decent view of boxer and husky walking after us, grinning and laughing. And big paws kept "steadying me" by copping a feel on my ass. She wasn't super gentle about that, either. When I squirmed and protested, she laughed and asked what I was going to do about it.

Nothing, obviously, she was like, twice as tall as me and made of muscles. What was I going to do? Of course, not being able to do anything meant that I could give in without having to feel like I gave up. I could tell myself I had held out and resisted. That there just wasn't anything I could have done to stop what was clearly going to happen to me.

I did not have high hopes for my clothes surviving the next hour.

I might be upset about that, I kind of liked that blouse. I was right, if that didn't clue you in. No sooner did we get back to our place than Laura just up and took me by shoulder and hip and pinned me to the wall, feet six inches from the floor. She grinned the kind of smile that had way too many teeth. I'm sure I let out a little squeak, because Carol laughed, Garth chuckled, and Laura... Laura just smiled a little bigger, leaned in, and put all of those teeth against my neck.

I think I stopped breathing for a minute. I know my heart was pounding like it wanted to jump out of my chest. Some very frightened part of me was wondering when she was going to bite down, because so far all I felt was a faint bit of pressure from every single tooth. All of them. But she just held there, tightened a tiny bit, then let go. "Hmph. I can smell you, little mouse. I can smell that you're a little scared, yes. I can smell what else you are, far more than scared."

My ears turned red. "Fine, yes, I am incredibly turned on by this, and no one is surprised can we just, just, just move on from that and do whatever we're doing?" All three of them laughed. Carol pushed the other dog onto the couch, then gestured at Laura to continue.

"Don't mind us, we're just here to watch and make sure 'Manda has the blushiest, most horribly embarrassed but even hotter because it's embarrassing, scared little mousey orgasms." I could hear the teasing tone and I knew it was all true. I knew it. How fucked up is that? I love that bitch, and yeah, she has me all figured out. Could she have been doing all this to me? Yeah, sure, she has teeth. She's maybe not strong or tall enough to just kind of pin me to the wall like that, but the teeth at the throat things? Can do and has done.

But this was even worse. Or better? Having this done to me while she watched was way more intense, and I wasn't sure if Garth being there too was helping. He sure didn't seem to be hurting things any.

Laura pushed her thigh up between my legs and pushed me down hard on it. "Go ahead and grind there, mouse. I'm used to pretty girls getting messy for me. Do a good job making a mess of yourself and I'll spare you torn clothes. Get them messy enough and I'll let you take them off, instead of doing it for you."

I hadn't even really heard her, before I started rocking my hips and grinding. Knowing that doing that would save my clothes from claws was a bonus, but I was already a mess, and she knew it. I still didn't know where to put my hands, and she saw my hesitation there, one on my stomach edging down, the other on the wall behind me. She took the decision away from me, took one and put it over my head against the wall. "Keep it there." I couldn't argue or resist her. Hell, by the time she brought my other hand up to join it and pinned them over my head I was already shuddering and squirming.

I was helpless and I reveled in it. I was helpless and knew I couldn't get loose, and that left me able to struggle and squirm and fight while I rocked my hips. She moved to, changing the angle of her thigh for me, varying the pressure. And apparently I wasn't moving fast enough for her. First I knew of it was a stroke of claws down my thigh. Slacks aren't much protection, they just kind of fell apart under her claws. And claws through my fur, claws on my flesh. So much sharper than Carol's, and everyone heard the squeak that wavered into a moan.

"Ooooh, she liked that." Carol laughed. "Do that some more, I want to see if she really can cum from just being held down and scratched like that." I opened my eyes and locked on hers. Tried to, anyway, it was hard to focus, because Laura had taken that instruction to heart and was dragging her free hand up and down my thighs. I got a decent view of Carol straddling Garths lap, moving slow. I didn't like his odds for staying aware of anything but her for long. I wasn't going to be able to look past Laura much longer anyway.

She'd grown tired of tearing my pants to tatters, and was tracing claws along my neck. "I know this isn't fair. I don't care, though. I'm going to give you one hand free. If you can get your blouse undone before I get bored of waiting, I won't shred it on you."

I got my hand free, left unfortunately. Scrambling at buttons with shaky fingers, fumbling. I got three before she took my hand again and put it back over my head. "Good try, sweet mouse."I looked down, following her finger, watching it just flick behind button after button. One stroke cut the thread from them, opening my blouse a little at a time. No more buttons, and I watched the hand come back up, claw dragging up my front, between my breasts, up under my chin.

I felt fingers splay around my throat, felt her tighten down, squeezing. Not hard, but enough to make my pulse ring louder in my ears. "What do you think, mouse?" I heard her quiet question, realized she had moved in closer to my ear. "Are you going to cum for me while you grind away on my thigh? Or do you need a little bit more help?"

I wasn't in any shape for actual words, just a shaky moan. "I'll take that as a yes please." I felt movement again, shifting here and there. She took my hands and put them on the arm holding my throat, then hooked her now free hand in among my shredded slacks. I felt fingers joining her thigh down there, more pressure, more careful contact. And she started to work both hands together, playing with my breath while she played with my pussy. That was way too much for me to handle, the interplay of stimulation and seized breath.

I convulsed hard, my cry of pleasure stifled by a squeezing hand. Hell, my attempt to curl up around her fingers was stifled by that hand, too. God, she was strong. When my pulse calmed down and I could see straight again- she hadn't actually let me down yet- Carol was just grinning a me, tail wagging fast enough to cast a stiff breeze. Since she was still impaled on the boxer, I could imagine the face he was making.

"Oooooh, maybe not just claws, but holy shit, mousy, I haven't seen you do that in quite a while. Feel good?" I tried to nod, but there was still a hand around my neck, so I just gave her a thumbs up instead.

Laura growled something low, I couldn't quite make it out, but when I looked back up at her I knew exactly what she was thinking. It might have been the eyes, might have been the grin, most certainly helped by the slow curl of pink tongue. Yes, I read that signal pretty clear. I think some of that understanding must have showed on my face, because about the time I registered what she was intimating, she picked me up, higher, got a different grip, both hands on my ass, and pushed me up further on the wall. Head level, for her, which put my ears almost at the ceiling. And conveniently enough, put her face between my thighs.

I couldn't tell you exactly what she did. I love eating Carol out, and I'll say I'm pretty good with my tongue, but holy fuck, Laura is something else entirely. Okay, so first off, blunt muzzle, broad. Sharp teeth in very delicate places, but her tongue was just... broad, strong, dexterous. She found places to lick that I didn't even know existed! Probably a good thing she didn't have a hand for my throat this time, but I couldn't manage an actual word anyway, just squeaks and moans and hands holding on to her ears as I convulsed again, shaking.

And again.

The third time I could barely even squeak, I was so overwhelmed. Which she seemed to register well enough, at least enough to get me down off the wall, over her shoulder as she carried me somewhere. I really didn't know what was going on until I saw the guest bedroom around me, and she laid me down on the bed. We don't use the guest room often, just sometimes if we have family in town. I could see good reason for using it now. While Carol's "fish" used our bed, it was part of the whole "I hate how much I love this" feeling that the whole affair had. By contrast, I didn't want conflicted feelings right now, and it was likely that Carol and the smilodon had already talked about that.

One hand settled on my stomach, pinning me to the bed. "See, Amanda, your husky out there, she told me a lot of things. She told me things you've told her. She told me things you haven't told her." My brain froze for a second. What was she talking about? "She told me the things that you've accidentally left open on your phone. She told me the things that you think you're burying. Don't you know that a dog will always find what's buried? Or did you want her to find out about the things you've been fantasizing? She told me you have a very hard time admitting what you want." True. "And that you love it when someone figures it out and makes you do it without you having to confess."

She still had me pinned to the bed with that hand, and the other one moved up, caressed my neck slowly. "She showed me the things you've been reading about. Do you want me to help you understand that? Do you want me to show you what it's really like? You don't have to say anything, just nod."

If she really did know the things I had been reading about, fantasizing about, nodding was going to be very, very rough on me. But if I shook my head, I might never get this chance again. Carol would know, but she wasn't suited for this role. It wasn't a good fit on her, and here she'd gone and found a professional to give me the experience.

I nodded. There hadn't really been a chance I was going to decline. I knew it, she knew it, but she still had let me run it all through my head first. Had made me run it all through, made me think of it and imagine it. And now she was going to do it. To me.

Speaking of which, I had just enough time to realize what was about to happen when her hand closed over my throat. Strong, like the rest of her, and careful. She wasn't crushing but squeezing, playing with my neck in that big hand. I could feel a prickle of claws here and there as she squeezed, but she was mostly just watching me as I started to realize that air wasn't coming anymore. I needed to breathe but I couldn't, and my hands came up, on her wrist, tugging and struggling, not that it did me any good at all.

She kept watching, just playing with the tightness of her fingers, and I felt lightheaded, saw the little touches of gray starting to close around the edges of my vision, felt a weird tingle through my whole body, matched with the rising panic as I struggled harder and harder for air. Just when I started to really get scared, she relaxed her fingers, and let the blood rush back in.

She only let me recover for a moment before tightening again and starting the whole process once more. It was terrifying and I was so turned on that even if I hadn't been struggling to breath, I couldn't have made myself put two words together unless they were "fuck me" with maybe a "now" or a "please" tacked on the end. Fortunately for what little remained of my pride, I wasn't allowed to make that silly demand. And didn't need to, really. She knew well enough anyway.

She could probably smell it, and I wondered, in the small part of my brain that wasn't completely overwhelmed and stewing in a heady mix of fear and arousal, if she was one of the predator morphs who had opted for, or been born with, that particular set of scent receptors that focused in on the poorly defined but well understood "fear smell". I'd known a few and without exception they'd all found the scent powerfully arousing. I knew that the fear did some very, very particular things to me, and while Carol wasn't blessed or cursed with the fear smelling bit, she could sure smell the secondary effects.

Laura couldn't have missed them, certainly. The way she was grinning, and when she saw me notice, how she licked her teeth, drawing attention, making me focus on those. She knew. And she knew that I knew, and that knowing didn't change things one tiny bit.

So when she relaxed her grip again, but didn't tighten it as soon as I stopped freaking out, I knew some part of the game was moving forward. I found out which when she called over her shoulder to Carol, asked a question. I don't remember the exact words, but it was something about my panties, and whether I was attached to them. She didn't ask me. My opinion on the matter, if I'd even been able to articulate it, really didn't matter. Carol's response was a laugh, apparently enough to get the point across, because when I felt that hand tighten on my neck again, the other one started ripping. My panties were not built to stand up to a lady with that kind of muscle taking them off the hard way while I struggled for air.

I could hear the tearing, feel the sudden freedom, in the midst of my breathless struggle. The freedom didn't last. Brief moments, I felt the hand leave her throat. Then felt my wrists bound with the scraps of my clothes, lifted up, tied to the headboard. Then hand at my throat again, squeezing as the other hand slid back between my thighs. It was electric, that touch, those fingers. I arched into them without thinking, without realizing what I was doing. She knew, though. She was very aware of what I was doing, and why.

Her smile didn't have a trace of cruelty in it, but she clearly enjoyed what she was doing. Making me arch and struggle and fight for air as she pushed my pleasure higher and higher. I couldn't have held back if I wanted to, and if we're being honest, I really, really didn't want to. The only thing I was really thinking at that point, aside from desperate need for air and impending orgasm, was whether Carol was watching. You now how even when you're wholly absorbed in something, focused only on that one thing, there's still a little corner of your brain that's doing something else? Mine was wondering whether my girlfriend was watching me get choked to orgasm.

She was, as it turns out, not that I knew at the moment. Fuck, my entire world had kind of narrowed down to the fingers on my throat and the fingers in my pussy. She kept hovering me around that hazy point, keeping me just shy of passing out. I struggled and fought, pulled at her wrist, but it didn't do me any fucking good.

You know how some folks compare orgasms with fireworks? This one was more like the climax (no pun intended) of a summer blockbuster action movie. Maybe a sci-fi explosion. It was huge, it was intense, and it left me trembling. Once was apparently not enough for her, because she didn't stop. Didn't even pause, just kept choking me, kept using her fingers to find every bit of pleasurable friction, every place where a caress or rub would make me moan if I had air to do that with.

She brought me close, but didn't push me over, just like she was doing with my air. Almost passed out, but not quite. Almost came, but not quite. Over and over again, frustration and fear and desperation mounting. Until she finally went that little bit further that I ached for. If the last one had been the big explosion of an action movie, this one was the trilogy ending one that left no survivors, and a sizable crater. I'm pretty sure I blacked out for a second, but I was still shaking through aftershocks when I got my senses back, so it wasn't for long if I did. But I could breathe! She was letting me do that again, sucking in deep lungfuls of air, finally getting to let out the moans and mumbles I'd been denied.

Carol certainly had been watching. She was up against the wall with her hand in those borrowed boxers, and I knew the sight of her really, really enjoying herself. It made my heart sing, and I wondered if that was the same feeling she got from knowing I watched her with those guys.

The kisses and hugs she poured over me were pretty clear, and she thanked Laura for me. I sure wasn't in any shape for coherent words. Or moving, really, I was exhausted, every bit of me was sore, and I didn't want to do anything more than lay there and let Carol be nice to me. Fortunately I didn't have to go anywhere for a while, and Carol snuggled me straight down into a nap.

I needed that.