Kendra & Sam Set Boundaries Pt. 01

She had thought he'd cave in. Now she yearned for him to seize her, surrender to her by taking her. Her own desire soared, and his resistance left her helpless. "Damn! You bastard!"

She lurched forward, flattened palms on either side of his head, and sped up her quim. He grabbed her butt and drove deep. They yelled and spasmed and gushed for what might have been a long time, perhaps going past their target of one orgasm each, neither willing to stop.

In a while she kissed him lightly. "It's already Happy New Year somewhere," she said. "Eastern Hemisphere."

"Thank you, my travel agent."

"We probably couldn't do this for every time zone."

"Especially during the party. But there'll be more when it's done, right?"

"A few," she said. "I'll try not to think about that while I'm flirting."

***

As Kendra drove, Joan looked at her in amusement. "Who, exactly, are you all glammed up for?"

"Everybody," said Kendra, legs no longer shivering. The cabin was finally warm enough for her. "It's New Year's Eve. Gotta look good for two years."

Joan made a point of crossing her legs, snug in thick jeans. "I know that you're Sam-happy. That's been building for quite a while. But this is more than that. Some kind of excitement that doesn't seem related to the approach of 2012."

Kendra glanced her way. "Why aren't you happy or excited? You know, men can be fun sometimes. I could name ten who'd kill just to have a pleasant conversation with you."

"And with at least half of them, it wouldn't be pleasant for me." Joan looked away, and passing streetlights glinted off her red curls. "Not worth waiting for them to grow up."

Kendra let it drop, and paid attention to the windblown snow flurries, weaving on the pavement like snakes. She wore sneakers for driving, but at Kelly's place she'd switch to heels that got her within two inches of Sam-height. The shimmery, dark green cocktail dress hemmed just above the knees, hiding what she considered her thigh excess. Dangly silver earrings, a single strand of not-pearls. Glammed? In this crowd, she'd look restrained.

Her friends Kelly and Dan had done well in tech jobs. They married, and bought a big house in the suburbs that they intended, eventually, to fill with kids. Now it was ideal for holding parties of about fifty guests, the size of a few overlapping friend circles. If one intended to mingle, it was an ideal venue. One bedroom was the drop spot for all of the bulky coats, allowing everyone to pretend for a while that it wasn't winter.

After saying a few dozen hellos, Kendra got a flute of white wine and chatted people up. On the far side of the big dining room she could hear Sam, explaining the last couple months: "Yeah, I had to cut costs, but it was worth it. The business picked up, I got out from under the worst of the loan, and I got a decent bonus—half of which I plowed back in." Then the talk got techier, with Sam asked about hybrids and internet synching and multi-speaker car stereos. Kendra smiled and returned to the talk she was in.

They didn't avoid each other. That would have been suspicious. But they worked at being no more flirty with each other than they were with potential targets. When midnight arrived, they were in different parts of the big living room, and clinked champagne glasses with about a dozen people.

On the way home, Joan asked, "Okay, what's up?"

"With what?"

"You and Sam are a topic of conversation. As in, 'Why are they trolling when everybody knows they're an item?'"

Kendra's exasperation was genuine. "Maybe everybody's wrong!"

"I just know what I hear. The majority opinion is that you're punking, and you and Sam are about to elope. Some people aren't amused, and want to put a stop to it."

Kendra pulled a face. "Why don't they just brush me off? I've had overtures rejected before. I'm a grown-up, I can take it."

Joan looked at her for a few seconds. Finally she said, "If you're playing some kind of game, you might not like how it ends."

She had a sudden mental flare-up, that she might lose Sam, some way or other—but then she calmed.

She tried for lighter talk, but Joan wasn't having any.

After dropping Joan off, she called Sam. "You home yet?"

"Sure am. Counting down the time zones."

And at once, the weight she didn't know was on her shoulders fell away. This was Sam, her Sam, and she was his Kendra, and they were still primaries even as they tried to stop being exclusive.

"I wanted to jump you!" she whispered urgently, and it was true, in part of her mind, all night. We boned ten hours ago, she reminded herself, but still...

"Please!" he returned. "You know where to find me."

As they undressed each other, they shared their accomplishments. "Victor asked me out next week," she said.

"I was able to get Giselle aside for a minute," he said, breathing heavily perhaps for several reasons, "and she said yes."

"She's tall," she said, getting his last shirt button undone and barely able to get his torso free with her full arm extension. "I'll have to keep the heels on."

"Victor's ripped," he said, relieving her of her bra. "I'll want the lights off."

That got her back to reality. "Should we keep the same rules, for what we don't do?"

"To be honest," he said, "I'd like lights up full with everybody. Males are visual."

"Okay," she said, "but...I'd like to keep no overnights."

"For sure," he said, getting into bed. "Should we add a replacement for low-light?"

"Like what?" she said, lying next to him.

He needed a moment, while processing the visual of her nude self, to remember what the subject was. Then he said, "Oh, um...how about...no oral sex to completion?"

She shrugged. "I don't think that matters very much to me, but it keeps the principle of holding something back. So, okay."

"Then we ought to complete ourselves, now," he said, shifting to put his head between her legs, "to confirm its importance."

Which they did, with effort, because it was very late by then, but the New Year hadn't yet made it all the way to the International Date Line.

"To be honest," she said, between tongue scrubs inside her mouth, "I like egg nog better."

He tried to wipe his face and neck, and failed. "Please don't ever cover my spout with cinnamon."

They toasted the last vestige of New Year's Eve with mouthwash.

***

Giselle smiled langourously. "So nice," she purred. "I wanted to feel that, one last time." She said that with more emphasis than she might have, looking at Sam closely.

His eyebrows rose. "You have somebody special now?" He was upbeat about this, ready to feel good for a close friend.

"No, Sam," she said pointedly, "but you do."

"Who, Kendra? Come on," he said.

Giselle shimmied slowly around his dick, smile widening. "Don't tell me you two aren't A Couple, in capital letters. If you deny that, I'll decide you're a liar. And I still want to like you, Sam."

The feel of her sheath against his tube made him half-open his mouth and half-close his eyes. Giselle was on birth control and actively disliked condoms, so he gladly barebacked her. This is what was special about the women he was privileged to bed. All of the quims were wonderful but each was unique, Giselle's having this particular sinuousness—

His vision cleared, and he looked at Giselle in surprise. He realized that she was showing him what he'd no longer experience. "Are you breaking up with me?" he asked.

"Only a couple can break up," she said. "What I'm doing is leaving. It's been fun, but I'll never have more than that with you. Every time you and Kendra are at a party, you're never really apart. New Year's Eve, even when you played a game while she watched the bands on TV, you checked in with her, or she did with you. I like both of you. I wouldn't try to steal you away."

He mumbled, "Didn't know this would be a problem for you."

"You're trying to have your cake and eat it too." Giselle's expression was calm. She began to fondle her breasts slowly. "Who wouldn't? I would if I could. But I don't have a cake, and I'm getting to where I want one. Kendra is your have-cake. I won't settle for being your eat-cake." She grinned. "And you only go so far, now, on eating pie." She then set her heels on the bed and withdrew her pie from him.

***

"Oh yeah Honey!" Kendra was soaring towards a second orgasm, which rarely happened in a single nonstop bang, even with Sam. "I've been missing you, Victor! I've been missing this!" She knew she shouldn't, but she was imagining taking Victor and Sam at the same time. Be present with this one man, she lectured herself. His chest compressing hers, her hands on his back, his dick rubbing slightly to the right side of her hot, hyped tunnel. A distant, analytical part of her found that Victor was doing her well enough, but this level of enjoyment was stoked by a fantasy that was all in her head.

She did cum, very loudly, and in that moment thrilled to his swelling even within the condom's confines. Doesn't matter how I got there, she thought. And maybe this puts the fantasy on a reality track, someday. Which gave her an extra rush, as Victor was pulling out.

He rolled off, and she admired his taut, compact frame, shown off better with full room lighting on his dark brown skin. Yeah, that was a good rule to get rid of. She stroked his chest.

He turned his head her way and said, "Go ahead," with a falling inflection.

"With what?" she asked. "You have to give me a little time to recover, but then, name it."

"This was great, Kendra," he said, patting her thigh and showing a smile that seemed sad. "I was glad to get one more time with you. But now, get it over with, please."

She elbow-propped, with a puzzled look. "What?"

"The breakup speech," he said. "Tell me how much fun it's been, but Sam's so important to you now, all that crap."

"Sam and I date, that's all."

Victor raised an eyebrow. "I almost believe that, except I don't. This was tough to figure out. You're not nervous and defensive, like you were months ago. You're really happy, and maybe I had a little to do with that just now, but it's not like you were frustrated, and needed a better bang. You and Sam are doing more than dating. That's cool, I wish you well. It's great that you two are clicking."

She found it harder to keep the Sam-and-Victor fantasy in her head. "I'm not breaking anything up!" she said. "Are you?"

He got impatient. "Yes, Kendra, if you want it that way. I'll close this account." He took a breath, and shook his head. "There comes a time when feelings makes sex less casual. I shouldn't get that way with you."

***

"It's a conspiracy!" Kendra declared, stomping around and waving her arms. "I could see one of them kissing us off, but both? This was planned."

"Yeah," Sam grumbled, stretched out on the sofa. He was probably just as pissed off, but more inclined to internalize and stew. "I had a hunch something was up at New Year's."

"Joan even warned me." Quickly she stopped and faced Sam. "Do not accuse her of being in on it. She's my best friend."

He chuckled. "Okay, accusing her will be your job."

"They probably think they're doing us a favor." She resumed pacing, aware of his snark but letting it roll off. "But really they're just jealous. Because we've been able to have it all."

"And maybe they think we're using them."

"With their eager participation!" she said. Then she stopped, and let her better nature catch up with her. "Until now. Damn. We're not takers. We care about them, we're fond of them."

He stood. "And I think it's mutual. But they're looking out for their own best interests." He waited until she looked over in his silence, and then said, "We could try other people."

"No," she said, her anger spent. "Sex shouldn't be a relentless, goal-oriented campaign. It should be stress-free fun, for everybody." Her expression lightened. "Like what you and I have been doing for a couple months. The fantasies have gotten weird, but once it's your body and mine, I'm happy."

"I know some people groove on the sneaking around and the drama, but I'm not one of them," he said, stepping close and settling his hands on her shoulders. "At the end of the day...any day...you're the one I want to be with."

She smiled, but said, "We must look like such moonbeams when we're together. Our flirting elsewhere falls flat."

"So, are you ready to let the world in on what we've been trying to hide?"

"Sure."

He dug out his new phone, his first major purchase in months. "I can get a video clip on this."

She ducked away. "Gotta check hair and face."

Sam thought she looked the same when she returned, but assumed this was his male obliviousness. He acted like he was still trying to work out the video procedure.

Finally he held the phone at arm's length and brought Kendra in close. He faced the lens and said, "People, this is something we'd like to share with you." Then he looked at her. "Kendra Simons, would you please do me the honor of marrying me?"

She looked at the phone and growled, "Hell yeah, Samuel Mulholland! Suck it, everybody, we're outta circulation now!" She smooched him hard.

Then she smiled at Sam blithely. "Had to get that out of my system. In the next take I'll be nice and sweet, and won't scare our parents. And we'll explain why there isn't a ring yet."

He gawked at her. "Thank God I hadn't actually called anyone."

She waved that away. "This has to be broadcast to a zillion people, we'll make the call list later."

"Okay," he said.

With a tiny smile she said, "Please don't delete that one."

His smile wasn't so tiny. "We can send that later, to a list of certain individuals who might be having second thoughts."

(To be continued, five months later.)