"Hey, Mel, does the rabbit go around the tree, or down the..." I was struggling to tie my tie, an activity I hated only slightly less than pulling weeds. I hated to ask my older brother for help with this, but he was the Banker and I was the fireman.
"Really? Jesus, Marcus. You'd think you'd never worn a suit before." Mel was busy running around his spacious bedroom gathering everything that he needed.
"I got it, Mel," Carrie said. Carrie was Mel's wife. Soon to be ex if he didn't wise up and knock off being like my dad the work-a-holic. She was stunning and curvy and funny and... well, he'd be fucking it up if he let her get away. Carrie came over and in less than twenty seconds had my tie tied, straightened, and a tie tack in place. She'd obviously helped Mel a time or two.
We were meeting our dad's new wife (number 3) and dad wanted us to make a good impression, so I flew down and was staying in Mel's Pool House. Yeah, motherfucker was rich enough to have a pool house with the degree dad bought him, while I paid my own tuition to the community college for Paramedic school. I guess dad liked my full ride Lacrosse scholarship, but hated the way I pissed it away being a jock and graduating with a useless BS in liberal arts, so no school money for me.
A few lean years got my head on straight, and after mom died, I went to fire college and joined up. I didn't have any hard feelings for dad, in fact he'd basically made me grow up, and for that I was grateful. I felt like I owed him to come support him and his new wife. Despite the fact that I kept in good shape and did well with the ladies, I still couldn't manage to get one to come all the way to Portland to schmooze the new step monster.
I looked in the mirror and liked what I saw. A lean twenty something guy in a well fitting suit, great hair and, well, ridiculous shoes. The guy where I bought my suit said they were great and even wore a pair. I had to admit they were comfortable, but man, so not my style.
I walked down to the kitchen while Mel fought with his pocket square in front of the bathroom mirror. I wanted to say something, but I refrained.
I opened a beer and took a long pull before closing the door of the fridge. Carrie was standing there with a huge grin looking stunning in a nearly painted on looking "Little black dress". It had a very open back, but long sleeves and a plunging neckline.
"Mind?" she asked, reaching for my beer.
I smiled back and whispered, "This is just about the only way I'll be able to stomach seeing dad pine over some chick 20 years younger than he is," and handed it over.
She took a long drink and handed it back. "Yeah, me too," she whispered. Carrie had always been an enigma. Mel's friends said he'd "Out Punted His Coverage", but with me, she was a cool chick. We'd shared dinners waiting for Mel, and beers watching Major League Lacrosse matches. I'd played with many of the guys, so I had to watch like a true fan, but she'd only picked it up after we'd watched a game and enjoyed the pace. She was hooked after that.
She reached again for the bottle after I took another drink. "The Outlaws are playing those Punks from Boston tomorrow," she whispered. "Mel usually does payroll review on Monday, so we could catch it at O'Donnals." I handed her the bottle and she took another big drink.
"Yeah, I'm here all weekend. Plane leaves Sunday night, so yeah, Lacrosse it is. O'Donnal is the only guy in Portland who even knows what it is, and that's only because his grand kid plays for Florida."
She handed the beer back and I finished it. "Oh yeah?" she whispered, "I always wondered why the beer sales were better when Florida was on. I always figured it was because that's where he was going to snow bird." We both laughed. I loved how it made her eyes light up. I liked being a funny guy, but with a woman like Carrie, you just wanted to see her happy all the time.
"What's so funny? And a beer? You think Gloretta will be that bad?" Mel looked all business.
"Holy actual shit!" I exclaimed. "Gloretta?" Mel broke character and began laughing causing us to fall into laughter again. I'd never heard her full name.
Composing himself, he pulled the small flask from his inside jacket pocket and took a long pull. "Yup. Gloretta Muriel Abelton. The hits just keep coming."
"Wait," I said. "When dad marries her..." My voice trailed off, a huge smile cutting my face in half.
Mel nodded. "Gloretta Muriel Cunningham. GMC just like the trucks." There was more laughter and this time Mel passed around the flask.
The whole dinner was like that. Exchanged glances, and stifled laughter, culminating in side splitting laughter when we finally made it out to Mel's car. I helped Carrie pour Mel into the back of the Lincoln and drove the rest of the way home. Carrie said Mel had tangled with the rest of the flask on top of all the wine that was being poured. He'd handled it well, but with Mel he was either a fun drunk, or asleep. He'd been plenty of the former, right before he became the latter.
Dad was happy we were mostly respectable and even cracked a smile when we suggested Gloretta ("please call me Gloria") keep her last name. Carrie and I chatted as I drove and I realized I missed having a girlfriend. It'd been a while mainly because I was putting so much into being a good firefighter and going to Paramedic school that I really didn't take the time. I spent most of what I did have at the firehouse or studying. Not too many available chicks there.
I drug Mel upstairs and planted him on the bed. Carrie said she could manage from there and bid me good night.
I walked to the kitchen, grabbed a 6 pack of beer and the rest of my subway sandwich from earlier in the day and walked out to the Pool house.
The little pool house was quite nice and suited me just fine. I fired up my laptop and caught up on the latest Draft drama for the Lacrosse league and then switched it to a Netflix movie.
Beer in hand, I sat on the couch and watched the dirty girls of Orange is the New Black while I picked at my soggy sandwich. Several minutes into a especially good scene, I paused it and went to my lugage to retrieve the little bottle of Lube and my Tenga egg. A lonely guy needs help sometimes, and these girls were going to help me out. I stripped down and laid a towel onto the couch before I sat down. I drained some lube into the little silicone egg and unpaused the show. It didn't take too much time and I was hard as a nail again. I popped the little white egg over my hard glans and moved it slowly and softly. My eyes closed, I wasn't even watching the video any more. I teased myself for a few minutes before I stopped and rested my hands at my sides, not eager for the journey to be over this soon.
In my minds eye, I saw Carrie in that turquoise bikini from last year and my cock stiffened even more somehow. God how I wanted her, but... way, way out of my... everything.
"Is that what I need to do to get a look at that thing? Start having sex with women in front of you?"
I jumped up, shocked from my bliss, knocking the empty beer and sandwich alike onto the floor and the egg off of my penis. I grabbed the closest thing to cover myself with and lamented immediately the fact that now I would have to figure how to get lube out of the keys of my laptop.
She stood behind the couch in a black bra, panties and garters, her stockinged feet deep into the sheepskin rug behind the couch. She had a bottle of wine in one hand, and two glasses in the other. A sexy smile crept across her face. "Looks like I won't need the wine to get what I want."
"Carrie, what, I mean, Uh, But..." I stammered.
She sat her cargo down onto a small table near the couch and walked toward me, I retreated until I was stopped by a wall. She didn't stop until she was so very close.
"For an incredibly sexy man, you aren't being very suave. You should be pulling ass every night you go out." She was so close that I could smell the alcohol on her breath. She reached up and ran her right hand across my chest, letting the hair glide through her fingers. She looked from my chest to my face and smiled. "I'm glad you keep this fuzz. You have the body to be one of those Model types, but I much prefer sharing my body with a Man." With the last word she leaned in and kissed me. It was soft, barely there and sexy as hell, much like her clothing.
I hardened against the laptop, a strange feeling to be sure.
"Carrie, what if Mel comes down. I'd be so fucked."
Her hand ran down my thigh and cupped my scrotum with a velvety soft touch. She moved her mouth next to my ear. "I'm here now, and you will be so fucked," she said in a breathy whisper. She took my ear lobe in my mouth and suckled it.
A switch in my head flipped. It was the one marked "In case of Erotic Emergency". Deep down I knew Mel was out of it. No one tangles with 3 bottles of wine and a flask of single malt without hibernating for a day. Carrie wasn't so much of a to do box to check, she was more like a mountain I've admired from afar. Something I'd love to climb, but scared just the same because of what would happen if I did. I was sure you were supposed to have the hots for your older brother's girl, and she was no exception. The opportunity was presenting it's self, and I tried to live without regrets.
I sat the laptop down and scooped her up, kissing her passionately. I had an arm behind her back and one under her legs. We walked past the couch and I laid her onto the sheepskin rug, taking my place beside her. She reached up to the gas fireplace we were next to and grabbed a remote. I looked at her quizzically and with a couple button pushes, the lights were off except for what was coming from the now lit gas fireplace. The flickering light danced on her barely clothed skin, and I drank it all in with my eyes. Her heavy breasts were barely contained in black lace and her hips, clearly designed for grabbing onto, looked somehow even more curvy with her laying on her side. I must admit that it was the stockings that got me most though. I am a leg man, through and through and hers were some of the best I'd ever seen. Full, strong thighs and lean well muscled calves wrapped in garters and stockings... Gods.
I ran my hands over them reverently like the alter to her sex that they were. She turned onto her back and propped her self up with one if the pillows I'd knocked down.
Gingerly, I unclasped the garters from the stockings and gently teased them down her legs. A maneuver I'd only seen on videos on the internet, but I wanted what was within, so I was motivated. Now naked, I rubbed their length and kneaded the muscle under the smooth skin.
"You know, there's a saying," I said. "Every time a woman shaves her legs and doesn't get laid, a unicorn Dies."
She laughed her wonderful full laughter with me. I never stopped touching her leg. "Then I guess it's good I came down here, you know, for the relief of unicorn kind."
