Family Ties

He and I were a lot less drunk than the girls, who’d insisted on opening a bottle of champagne after we finished the Jack Daniel’s. Wren had drunk most of the bubbly, but Christy had polished off two glasses herself.

“You okay?” Trip said to me.

“Fine.” I brandished my Coke.

“All right. Glad you made it home safe. See you in the morning.” Wren swayed a bit unsteadily and he revised his estimate, “Maybe the afternoon.”

“Right. Have fun. See you tomorrow.”

Christy and I watched them go through the living room and then up the stairs.

“You ready for bed too?” I asked her. “You wanna spend th— Oh, okay.”

She’d climbed into my lap. “That works too.”

“Mmm.” She pulled my head down for a kiss. “I’m really drunk.”

“So,” I said after she released her lip-lock, “what do you wanna do about

“Wren thinks you should just have your way with me.”

“You’re the man. You could do anything you want.”

My eyebrows shot up. The alcohol was talking, but the little head didn’t care.

Christy reached between us and squeezed the bulge in my pants. “Mmm, he knows what I want.”

“Or you could make me suck your cock. You like it when I say that.

Cock. I can tell.” She nuzzled my neck and said between kisses, “Mmm, your big, hard cock.”

A little booze—okay, a lot of booze—and she shed her inhibitions like a Baptist outside of church.

“But the rest of me would feel guilty.”

She stopped kissing and pulled back. “What do you mean?”

“Just that maybe we should slow down a little.”

“Slow down?” Her eyes flashed with irritation. “But I thought—? You said— All I had to do was ask!”

“No, I know what you meant.” She shoved my hands away and stood. “I think I should sleep by myself,” she added frostily. “Goodnight!”

“G’night,” I said to her back, but it was halfhearted.

She stomped up the stairs, a hundred pounds of cold, rejected fury.

Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’d have felt guilty if I’d gone along with her. Sure, the little head would’ve had fun, but what then? What

happened when she sobered up and realized what she’d done? She still hadn’t shed her inhibitions for real. She needed alcohol to do it, and that wasn’t the same.

I was still sitting there an hour later. My Coke was long gone, I was stiff from not moving, and I hadn’t thought of a way I could’ve handled things better. Differently? Yes. Better? Not much.

I turned off the lights and stereo and went up to bed, where I spent another miserable hour lying awake and brooding. I was on the verge of sulking when someone knocked on my door, just a soft tap-tap, but unmistakable in the quiet of the night.

I looked at the bedside clock and debated whether to answer. But then I thought about Christy standing outside my door, waiting, hoping, and eventually walking away dejected.

The scuffing stopped.

I rolled out of bed and opened the door.

Christy stood in the hall in her plaid pajamas and bunny slippers. She looked as miserable as I felt.

My throat was suddenly dry, and I had to swallow to moisten it. “You wanna come in?” I said at last. “We could talk.”

I stepped aside and gestured for her to enter.

She walked past me and offered a wan smile. “Don’t you ever wear clothes?”

“I’m a nudist, remember?” I closed the door behind us. It was a symbolic gesture more than a physical one.

“I suppose I am too… if you’ll still have me.”

“Sure. You wanna start over?”

“Not at all.” I paused and silently rewound. “So, would you like to spend the night with me?”

“I should warn you, I sleep in the nude.”

She laughed and looked me up and down. “I never would’ve noticed. But I kinda like it.”

“Good. Then maybe you could join me.”

“Would you like me to undress for you?” She smiled shyly.

“I’d love it. Just a sec.” I threw back the covers and crawled to the far side of the bed, where I lay on my side. Then I propped my head on one hand and used the other to shamelessly stroke myself.

“Oh my gosh,” Christy said. “You have no idea how sexy that is.”

“That’s why I’m doing it. Well, also ’cause it feels good, but I could do it under the covers and it’d feel just as good.” I shrugged. “I guess I like putting on a show.”

She smiled hesitantly and put on a show for me. She wasn’t confident or experienced enough to make it a real striptease, but I wasn’t going to complain. Besides, she kept glancing at my dick as I slowly stroked it, so it was completely hard by the time she took off her panties and dropped them to the floor. She climbed in beside me, and I pulled the covers over us. My erection pressed into her hip as I rolled toward her.

“D’you wanna talk about earlier,” I asked neutrally, “or just forget it, like it didn’t happen?”

“Okay,” I said slowly.