It's A Sweet Life Part 16

"What?" she asked.

"In this deck, Strength means you should use your intuition. Have the courage to take a stand and follow through with it, basically." Mandaline lifted her gaze to Libbie's. "We can do this all day, but I can already tell you what the cards will keep saying."

"What?"

"s.h.i.t or get off the pot." She grinned and turned the Strength card over so its back was visible. The background of the card was a marbled light grey, with a round, pewter-colored symbol in the middle. Three stylized animals surrounded a center of three spirals.

"What's that?" Libbie asked.

"It's a type of triskele," Mandaline said. "Tri. Three." All that was missing was the audible duh. "Why are you afraid to let this happen?" Mandaline asked.

Libbie finally blurted it out. "Because my ex lied to me and cheated on me. I ended up divorcing him, and just the thought of both of them lying to me breaks my heart. How do I survive it if they really do it?"

Libbie didn't miss Mandaline's sympathetic sigh. "Oh, sweetie. You don't know they'll lie to you and break your heart," she gently said. "You really don't. You're painting them with your ex's sins when they haven't done anything to earn your mistrust. Have they?"

Libbie tried not to think about how they never really talked in great detail about their past. How they always managed to distract her from the topic with other topics...or really good, hot, raunchy s.e.x. And her mind flashed back to the Florida tag on the back of their truck and the troubling, niggling thought in her mind that maybe they weren't telling the truth about that. That she never remembered seeing a Nebraska plate on the truck, front or back.

Then again, she couldn't be sure, either. Especially not with how bad her fibro fog had been lately. h.e.l.l, there were mornings, literally, she awoke with no idea of what day it was.

"No," Libbie finally admitted. "They've been nothing but sweet."

"Want one more?" Mandaline asked, tapping the deck with her finger.

Libbie shrugged.

Mandaline flipped over the next card and laid it before Libbie. Two dragons flew over a beach, each holding a wand. The third wand was stuck in the sand below them. The bottom of the card read Three of Wands.

The women's eyes met. Mandaline arched an eyebrow.

"Tell me," Libbie finally said.

"Good planning creates success. Possible partnerships." She smiled. "It's no coincidence it's a three. Did you know a tripod is one of the most stable structures there are?"

"All right, all right already. I get the picture."

Mandaline covered Libbie's hand with hers and waited until she met her gaze. "Take a chance," Mandaline softly said. "If nothing else, the endorphin rush you'll get from really great, raunchy s.e.x with those two hunks will help your fibro for a while."

"What helps me if they break my heart?"

Mandaline's expression softened. "We will all help you then. You have way more friends in this community than you realize. But I really think that's not going to be an issue. I've seen the way they look at you, and the l.u.s.t and love in their eyes has nothing to do with your fabulous red velvet cakes." She gently squeezed Libbie's hand again. "Look, you remember how I was totally the queen of the commitmentphobes. Between cheats and liars and jerks who pretended to give a d.a.m.n about my beliefs, just to turn around and throw them in my face later. If I can empty and get rid of my baggage, so can you. It's all going to be okay."

"I hope you're right."

"The cards don't lie."

"I love you, Mandaline, but you know I'm not..." She didn't know how to finish that statement without hurting her friend's feelings.

"I know you don't follow the same path I do. That's okay. But as one friend to another, don't sit on your b.u.t.t and think about what might have been because that's the safer, albeit more depressing option to actually living your life."

Grover was taking care of smoking three turkeys, as well as a brisket, a ham, and who knew how many other delectable meats. Libbie had been a.s.signed to bring desserts and dinner rolls for the Johnson brood's annual Thanksgiving bash, the total headcount of which would likely top fifty people.

Grover never turned anyone away from holiday dinners. It wasn't uncommon for one or more of the kids to bring an "orphaned" friend or two with them for dinner, someone who had no other place to go and knowing there would be more than enough food for all, in addition to their own significant other. Jenny and her two sons would also be in attendance, liable to receive an early visit from Santa Claus.

Although Santa would be black and sound like Grover behind the red suit and fake beard.

Libbie had awakened stiff and sore-due to her fibro and not a vigorous f.u.c.king-a little after seven Thanksgiving morning. It didn't help that an early frost had also dipped the temperatures down to near freezing and left a thin layer of ice on the men's truck and her car, even under the protection of the carport.

Both men took one look at her and ordered her to go soak in the tub and leave all the car loading to them. Charles brought her coffee and a naproxen, while Ken prepared a bowl of Cream of Wheat for her to eat in the tub. She couldn't hear exactly everything going on, but heard the men making several trips in and out of the downstairs door, and the sound of things being loaded into the back of their truck. They were bringing what few folding chairs they had, as well as the folding tables, to help seat everyone at the feast.

By eight, Libbie had worked the worst of the kinks and stiffness out of her body. The men were downstairs when she got out of the tub, pulled on her robe, and made her way into the kitchen.

Two envelopes with her name on them sat propped up on the counter.

Her hands shook as she opened the first one, which turned out to be from Ken. The outside read On Our First Thanksgiving. Tears welled up in her eyes as she read his inscription inside.

May this be the first of many more together. - K.

No, not a declaration of love, but wasn't looking toward the future a good sign?

She opened the card from Charles, which had a funny picture on the front of a turkey doing an imitation of a lamp while a farmer carrying an ax searched for it in the kitchen.

I'll never get tired of gobbling you, babe. - Charles.

She snorted with laughter, then felt badly that she hadn't thought to get either man a card. She'd been fairly busy with the bakery and preparing Thanksgiving orders and it'd slipped her mind.

When the men returned to her apartment a short while later, she hugged them both. "Thank you for the cards." She kissed them. "I'm sorry I didn't get you two cards."

"It's all right," Ken said.

"You've been busy," Charles added.

"We just wanted to show you how special you are to us."

"If it wasn't for the fact I know I wouldn't want to go to Grover's after if we did, I'd show you how special you are to me right now."

"We'll take a rain check," Charles said.

"Until tonight," Ken said with a deliciously wicked smile.

Fortunately, Libbie already knew most of the people in attendance at Grover's house. Otherwise, she would have felt completely overwhelmed by the number of people. As it was she spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen, helping keep the food moving and washing up dishes.

Some of the family gathered in the living room in front of Grover's large TV to watch football. Some went outside to play a version of the real thing in Grover's enormous backyard.

"So are the Cornhuskers playing today?" she asked Ken on one of his many trips through to check on her.

She didn't understand the momentary confusion on his face. "Oh. Oh, um, I'm not a big football fan."

"I thought it was mandatory if you lived in Nebraska to follow football."

He smiled and leaned in for a kiss. "Only if you follow football in the first place." Before she could figure that out, he left the kitchen. She got busy and didn't have time to question him about it later.

It was nearly dark. Most of the people had left, but Libbie refused to leave the kitchen, insisting she didn't want to leave Grover with a ton of cleanup to do. Charles and Ken had been gently hinting to her for over two hours they thought she'd pushed herself too far, but she kept waving them off.

It was only when Grover himself walked into the kitchen and took the dishtowel from her that she finally listened. He placed his hands on her shoulders and marched her out of the kitchen to where Charles and Ken awaited in the living room.

"Take her home and make her rest," Grover told them.

"But there's still dishes to do!" she protested.

He crossed his arms over his ma.s.sive chest and stared down his nose at her. "Listen here, you go home and you rest. You're worn out. Now, git."

Knowing he wouldn't be swayed, she let the men lead her out to her car where Ken drove her home, followed by Charles in their truck with the folding tables in back.

They made her take a hot bath while they unloaded the truck. By the time they returned upstairs, she realized they'd been right to make her leave Grover's. She only had a little energy left.

And she knew exactly how she wanted to expend it.

Charles helped her out of the tub. "See? You need to listen to us. We can tell when you're exhausted."

"At least I don't have to open the shop tomorrow." On Black Friday, she didn't leave her apartment unless it was an emergency. She did a lot of her holiday shopping online, or earlier in the season before the stores got crowded. She couldn't handle the additional stress of driving in holiday traffic, negotiating crazy, full parking lots, and threading her way through ma.s.sive throngs of people.

She wrapped the towel around her after drying off. She slipped her arms around Charles' waist and tucked her hands into the back pockets of his jeans. "I know what I'd like to do now, though."

She rose up on her toes to kiss him, thrilling at the way the hard bulge in the front of his jeans sprang to life.

His hands brushed down her back, to her a.s.s, where he grabbed her and pulled her body tightly against his. "You sure you have the energy, baby?"

"Uh-huh. I saved enough for you two."

She loved the way he kissed her. The cousins were so much alike, but just different enough. Charles was teasing and playful, always leaving her wanting more no matter how thoroughly he kissed her. Ken was pa.s.sion on two legs, even the lightest of kisses sometimes leaving her breathless and feeling like she'd just had the romp of her life.

Charles scooped her up into his arms. "Time to put you to bed, little baker."

Ken called out from the kitchen. "She feeling frisky?"

"Yeah," Charles called back as he carried her into the bedroom. "She was trying to hump me in the bathroom."

She lightly swatted his chest. "I was not."

He dropped her onto the bed and met her gaze as he started unbuckling his belt. "You were ready to climb and ride me like a pony," he teased.

He kicked off his sneakers and socks before he shoved his jeans down and off. The outline of his rigid c.o.c.k pressed against the fabric of his briefs. They, too, joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

He pulled his shirt off, leaving her sighing at the sight of the lean muscles rippling across his chest. He straddled her on the bed and pulled the towel away. Then Ken walked into the room.

"Starting without me?"

Charles leaned in and nibbled the hollow of her throat. "Yep. You don't show up on time, you don't get any."

She poked him in the thigh. "Be nice. You have to share."

"I don't mind sharing," he said. "But I'm not waiting on him, either." His c.o.c.k stood out hard and proud, a pearly drop of pre-c.u.m already awaiting her tongue at the slit in the engorged head.

Ken laughed and started undressing. "I'm here, I'm here."

She wrapped her fingers around the silky heat of his c.o.c.k and gently tugged. "Come here and I'll take care of something for you."

He grinned and moved up her body so she could reach his c.o.c.k with her mouth. When the head slid past her lips, both of them moaned, him at the sensation, and her at the taste and feel of his hot flesh.

She felt the bed dip. Then Ken pushed her legs apart. "I know what'll keep me busy."

Libbie couldn't help but moan again as Ken used his thumbs to spread her l.a.b.i.a apart, exposing her c.l.i.t to his eager mouth. He blew hot breath across it, teasing her and turning her eager moans into plaintive whines.

Charles shifted position again, giving him the angle he needed to take over and f.u.c.k her mouth. "Just lay there and take it, baby." His voice sounded thick with need. "We're going to do all the work for you."

She relaxed her lips, flicking her tongue over his glans with every stroke. Charles knew exactly how deep to thrust without gagging her. Soon, as Ken started sucking on her c.l.i.t in earnest, Charles was f.u.c.king her mouth, his b.a.l.l.s lightly bouncing against her chin with every stroke.

He reached for and found her hands, lacing his fingers through hers and pinning them to the bed over her head. That only served to ratchet her pa.s.sion up another notch. They'd quickly learned how her body responded when they took total charge, pinning her to the bed and having their way with her.

She loved it.

Libbie imagined what she must look like, held down by two hunks and being both serviced and used without any say in the matter. It was that thought that triggered her first o.r.g.a.s.m.

Charles leaned forward, his weight pressing her deeper into the bed as he quickened his pace. "That's it, baby. Give him another one. I want to shoot my c.u.m down your throat while you're screaming around my c.o.c.k."

His s.e.xy tone was all it took to trigger the second one. And scream she did when Ken began finger-f.u.c.king her with two fingers as he lightly nipped her c.l.i.t.

"Yes!" Charles let out a groan as his c.o.c.k hardened against her tongue. He buried his c.o.c.k deep inside her mouth, forcing her to swallow even as she tried to scream her pleasure.

Ken wouldn't stop, however, forcing her body through wave after wave of pleasure. Charles' c.o.c.k softened and he withdrew, but he didn't let go of her hands. "Take it, baby," he hoa.r.s.ely said. "Loud as you want. You take it from him. You take every bit of it."

It felt like she floated free from her usual cloak of pain and fatigue as Ken stepped up his efforts, adding a third finger to her soaking c.u.n.t and slamming his hand against her p.u.s.s.y with each stroke even as his mouth tormented her swollen c.l.i.t.

She rode yet another o.r.g.a.s.m, startled midway when the men suddenly released her and changed position. She heard one of them yank the bedside table drawer open and rummage around. Charles knelt over her chest, his legs pinning her arms to the bed. Ken grabbed her legs and spread them farther apart.

She felt a condom-clad c.o.c.k spear her core, making her gasp with pleasure.

Then she heard a click and didn't have time to fully process it was the sound of the Hitachi firing up on high speed when Charles pressed it firmly against her c.l.i.t.

Her world exploded. She let out a cry, unable to move as her c.u.n.t walls squeezed Ken's c.o.c.k.

"Holy f.u.c.k," he gasped. "Don't stop," he told Charles. "Keep her coming."

He f.u.c.ked her hard and fast as her cries turned into sobs. They held her immobile and unable to escape the vibrator as wave after wave of blindingly intense ecstasy drilled through her body.