Tidings of Comfort

Tidings of Comfort

And Joy. Sort of... eventually...

Author's note: this is my entry for the Winter Holidays Story Contest 2023. Nothing earthshaking or serious... just some holiday fun. Regardless of any contest, voting and constructive comments are how I know how well I'm doing, entertaining you, the Reader. Enjoy...

*~*~*~*~*

"I thought the snow wasn't supposed to get here until Monday."

Andy was looking out our picture window at the foot or so of fresh snow on the ground.

"Now I'm bloody well stuck here until the plows come through. Which in your neck of the woods could be a couple of days."

"Hey, it could be worse, mate," I tried to console him. "At least you're with friends. And I don't mind writing a note to your boss, telling him why you missed work."

"Thank you, Daddy," he told me, emphasis his and heavy on the sarcasm. "It isn't missing work. They owe me the time off, anyway."

"Then what's the beef?" I wondered. "We're safe and warm, with plenty of food and drink. Susan's an excellent cook. We've got the 'net and games. You came dressed for this shyte, since we were going to be putting up firewood anyway..."

"Let's just call it 'missed opportunities'," he told me, shaking his head at the snow still coming down. To my confused look, he added, "I've been after Melissa for almost a year. Finally... finally... I had the perfect weekend set up. A romantic dinner, tickets for a show I know she likes, no other commitments... I even ordered roses..."

"You were looking to get laid," I summarized.

"You betcha," he confirmed with a certain amount of ticked off in his voice. "I am not looking forward to the phone call."

"Want me to make it for you?" I figured it was the least I could do for him.

"No, I'll man up," he decided. "Though it's probably another year of being celibate. Sucks to be me."

That one stopped me cold. A year of being celibate? That was just plain wrong.

"Another year?" He just nodded his head. "That's ridiculous!" I spouted off. "That's incredible! That's... criminal!"

"No, it's just rotten luck. And even hooking up at the New Year's party a year ago was a disaster. In retrospect."

"Too drunk to do the deed?" I kidded him.

"Too drunk to remember who he was."

"You mean, who she was," I corrected him.

"No, who he was," he corrected me back. "Dressed as a she. I'm having a hard time living it down, since people had their cell phones there when we were making out on the couch. At least they didn't follow us into the bedroom."

"Holy shit..." I muttered. That's about the point where Susan walked in from the kitchen.

"Hi, guys!" she greeted us. "There's hot chocolate and blueberry pancakes ready for breakfast, and some nukeable bacon or sausage. Or toast, coffee and OJ, if you want to be boring..." That's when she noticed Andy's attitude and my stare.

"Uh... what the fuck, over?" she asked. "What's going on?"

"Andy's lamenting being stuck with us over the weekend instead of wooing and winning the elusive -- and desirable -- Melissa I-didn't-catch-her-last-name. Apparently the best planned lays of mice and men..."

"Very funny," he turned from the window to tell me. "The timing would have been perfect. Do the wood with you today. Drive back tonight, have tomorrow for last minute minutiae, dinner at Chez Luis, then Les Misérables at the Paramount, back to mine for a nightcap and capped off with Sunday breakfast for two sexually sated, but recovering, lovers."

"Ouch." Susan had the good graces to look sorry for him. "That bad, huh?" She walked over to the window and looked out.

"That bad," I confirmed. "We've got the snowmobiles, but no way he drives 250 miles on one of those puppies."

"Minette," he told me, then added thoughtfully, "you know, Rick..." and let it hang out there.

"Melissa Minette?" I was surprised, to say the least. "Her name is Melissa Minette?" When he nodded, I had to ask, "you know what minetting is Victorian slang for, right?"

"I know," he told me seriously. "One of my favorite activities. Now beyond Endangered... almost to Extinct." He pulled out his phone, swiped it open and stared at it.

"You have got to be kidding me!" was his next comment. "No bars?"

That surprised me. Yeah, we were out in the country, but there was a tower about a mile down the road. I pulled out my phone and checked. He was right. No bars.

"Well, fuck... the tower must be down," I guessed. "I wonder if the landline still works?"

"You have a landline?" Andy sounded a bit incredulous.

"Yeah... never got rid of it," I told him. "Don't know why. Maybe for shit like this..." I waved my arm in the general direction of the window, then went to the kitchen. I picked up the handset, put it to my ear and got nothing. No dial tone, no out-of-service signal... nothing.

"Looks like the landline is down, too," I told them as I came back out.

"Wonderful," Andy groaned. "And your router is up, but there's no internet. I'll never get off her shit list if I just don't show up. Why does the Universe hate me???"

"Look," I told him, switching to problem solver mode, "take one of the snowmobiles and run down to Gordon's. It's only about five miles, but they might have phone service. We can tackle the wood after you get back. But get some breakfast first."

"Yeah, okay..." he agreed a little sullenly. Gordon's was a small gas and grocery mart run by one of the older families in the area. They're where we usually got our groceries and stuff. They knew us and would help out if they could. "What did you say was breakfast?" he asked Susan.

She took his arm and dragged him in the direction of the kitchen. I decided to see if I could catch a weather report. It was weird flipping the TV to the old antenna and DTA setup, but it worked. Not a lot of stations, but it had what I needed. I wanted to see how bad it was going to be.

In a word, bad. They were expecting another six to eight inches with drifts to three or four feet. And the winds weren't going to help anything, either. It was going to be a night to stoke up the fire, break out the booze and hunker down. When Andy got back, we'd make sure there was sufficient firewood.

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and Andy had come up to our cabin/house to celebrate with us. None of us had any family we'd want to go visit and over the last few years, Andy joining us had become sort of a tradition.

In this case, he came up Thursday morning, shared a meal of Susan's excellent cooking, and was going to spend today with me, laying in firewood, then drive home this afternoon/evening for the aforementioned plans. To my mind, it would have been better if he had invited this Melissa person up to ours for Thanksgiving.

Such was not the case. Maybe he was afraid Susan's and my somewhat libidinous approach to life might scare the young lady off. Andy and I had worked together now for about eight years. We'd started as cubicle mates, as software engineers for a consulting company, then collaborators when we shifted to mostly traveling to clients.

A couple of years ago, when Work From Home became the rage, Susan and I converted our vacation cabin into our full-time home. Although Andy and I still worked together, we didn't see each other as much.

Those eight years, though, meant Andy knew a lot about me. Maybe even some things Susan didn't know. And he was incredibly discreet. Basically, a guy I could implicitly trust. Which meant he knew about my, and then Susan's and my, experiences with group sex.

Susan and I had actually met at a Swingers' club. It was kind of complicated. I was there with my then-fiancée, Linda. Susan was there as a solo. Linda became enamored with a 10" pop can dick. On somebody else.

It worked out, though. Susan became enamored with my hands, mouth, moderately hung cock and my everything else. Linda and I parted company and Susan and I started dating. Two years of dating later, we got married. Andy was my Best Man.

After settling down into married life, we let go of the swinging. We were completely enraptured with each other. Five years into our marriage, we still are. I mean, fantasies about nameless strangers and memories of the "old days" still play into our love life. We just don't actively pursue hook-ups.

So now my best buddy was getting hosed over by the weather and Fate.

We finished up breakfast and I offered to go with him to Gordon's. He declined and told me it'd be less embarrassing if I wasn't listening in. I told him to take the Yamaha... it was bigger, more stable and had both a Garmin and a CB. He bummed one of my snowsuits, plus balaclava, helmet and gloves, and made sure he knew where he was going, then headed out.

Susan and I watched as he turned out of our driveway and headed off parallel to the highway. That's when Susan turned to me.

"So what's going on?"

"Going on?"

"Yeah. He's way too bummed for it to have been casual. So what's going on? Why is he taking it so hard?"

"Oh. That going on... Well, it appears it's been a year since he was last laid, and the last time, the person a very drunk Andy picked wasn't a she, although dressed like one. This weekend was his chance to fix that." I turned to look at Susan and her mouth was hanging open and she was staring at me.

"Whaaaat?" I drawled.

"Andy... your best friend Andy... is sexually starving to death and you're just standing by, watching it happen???"

Okay, that one threw me for a loop. Of course I cared about Andy and his mental and physical health. But what was I supposed to do about it? It's not like I could just run out and find a hottie to boff his brains out... I'd lucked out with Susan -- I didn't think the Universe was going to be that kind twice.

"You don't seriously think I should do something about it, do you?" I was running the implications of her question through my mind. "His last run-in with a guy didn't work out so well, remember?"

"No, I'm not suggesting you fuck him," she told me, and seemed pretty earnest. "But I could." Seeing my look, she added, "if you didn't have a problem with it."

"Didn't have a problem with my best friend fucking my wife?" I know I sounded incredulous... because I was!

"We've shared with others before," she pointed out in a soft tone, "and it was advantageous for both of us. Why not Andy?"

"Because I work with him? Because you're my wife and he'd never think it was okay? Because he'd probably see it as a mercy fuck, and an insult? Or patronizing..."

"Because he's your best friend and deserves some quality sex?" she countered. "And I am quality sex. In fact, we are quality sex. We make a pretty good team, Rick."

"I know that, and you know that, but Andy doesn't."

"Are you going to have a problem if I seduce him? " she asked, and I could tell she was serious.

"I don't know," I told her honestly. "I wish I could know going in that it wasn't going to screw up something between Andy and me."

"Well, the only way to make sure," she pointed out, "is to talk to him. But if he's okay with getting laid, and I'm okay with him getting laid, and you're okay with him getting laid... I don't see how it could screw up something between you two. Or we three, for that matter."

I took a breath and let it out. Susan was being logical. And she was probably right. But I'd have to talk to him, and the best time to do that would be after we put up the firewood. So I was in a holding pattern until he got back and we finished the wood.

* * * * *

"So. How'd it go?"

We were finishing stacking the wood we'd split and I figured I'd better breach the subject.

"Icy at first," he told me. "I figured any chance with her had gone right down the shitter. But she let me explain, and seemed to soften up a bit. I told her I'd do something super special for Christmas or New Year's. I think that got me a few points. It still sucks, though. I'm still hornier than the proverbial two peckered Billy goat."

"Yeah... we should talk about that..."

"No thanks," he came back right away. "Not interested in you giving me a blowjob."

"Noted," I told him. "But after we're done here, we should kick back with a couple of hot toddies in front of a warm fire and talk."

"Fine," he groused. "Let's get this done. Oh, and I called HR and left them a voicemail. I'm taking a couple of days of forced vacation."

We did get it done, and by the time we hauled our semi-frozen carcasses into the house, Susan had a blazing fire going and mugs of warm spiced apple cider with a bit of rum waiting for us. Andy and I got out of our wet clothes and parked our butts in front of the fire while Susan went back to working on food.

"Andy, you've been my best friend for a lot of years, now," I told him as we warmed up. "I wasn't offering to blow you, out there -- although you're a good looking guy and I wouldn't mind it." He gave a weird sideways look at that one.

"You know I'm bi, and so is Susan, but we don't make a big deal out of it," I went on. "We met because we both enjoyed a variety of partners, though we pretty much stopped the swinging after we got married. I mean, I know you know that. It's just... it seems wrong that you're in a nonconsensual celibacy."

"Yeah, well... shit happens, you know?" he answered in kind of a resigned way.

"Yeah, I know," I assured him. "And I'm not the only one who thinks that way." To his quizzical look, I explained, "Susan's been interested in you for awhile. She just won't do anything about it if it would screw up our friendship. So what I want you to know is, it won't bother me if you two were to get it on.

"I'm not saying anything will happen," I hurried to add before he could object. "That'd be between the two of you. I'm just saying, it wouldn't piss me off."

"Um... okay. Uh... wow..." he sort of muttered. "That's a surprise..."

"Which?" I asked. "That Susan wants in your pants? Or that I don't object?"

"Yes," he told me deadpan.

"Andy, you've been about as discreet as a friend can be," I told him. "You've heard a bunch of the stories from my swinging years. You know that Susan is borderline nymphomaniacal and we both like it like that. You know she's pretty discerning when it comes to the guys she's attracted to... so why the surprise that she's interested in you? You're smart, you're funny, you're good looking and you sport a decent bulge. And the reason I don't object should be obvious, too. In all our years together, you have never done anything to screw me over. In fact, you've covered my ass several times. And truth be told, I like watching Susan fucking another man. But I don't have to be there, with you. I trust you. And she'd rock your world, if you'd let her."

"Rick, you know Susan is one of the, if not the, sexiest women I've ever met, right?" Andy asked me.

"No, I don't know that," I told him. "I don't know who all you've met. But I could see it. Sure."

"Well, she is," he told me. "I don't have that kind of luck. Please don't take this wrong, and... it kind of smells like a mercy fuck setup."

"I told her you'd say that," I pointed out.

"And?" he asked.

"She said she doesn't do mercy fucks, and that if that's what you thought, I should tell you she's been scoping you out since before we were married, but thought that boffing my Best Man might be a bit tacky. She said she figures you've got at least 7 inches, and thick, and she wants it down her throat, in her pussy and up her ass, if she ever gets the chance."

Andy looked stunned. It took him several long moments before he shook his head to clear it and gave me an accusatory look.

"You're fuckin' with me, right?" he demanded. "You guys didn't actually talk about her fucking me, right?"

"Actually, you've been the subject of many fantasies over the years," I admitted. "For both of us. But I'm not in the equation at this point. She's definitely interested. But now, after she heard about your forced celibacy, I think you're in her sights. I don't know what she may or may not do, but she knows she has my permission, as long as it doesn't fuck up anything between you and me. Just so you're warned. You know... forewarned is forearmed and all that." Andy was slowly shaking his head in disbelief.

"Eight," he finally told me.

"Jesus, you're going to give me a complex!" I kidded him. "And Susan will go ape-shit. If. When. Whatever."

He looked at me again for several moments before asking, "what's she used to?"

"A little over seven and normal girth," I told him, "but back in the day, she could enjoy way under to way over. It's like she resizes herself to fit. Truly amazing."

"You are one lucky sonofabitch," he told me, taking a deep hit on his toddy.

"Yeah, well... the Universe has been kind to me. And might be for you, too..." I was going to go on with some lurid details and observations about a great wife and a great best friend, but that's when Susan came out of the kitchen.

"Dinner's in fifteen," she told us. "Anybody want a refill before then?"

Andy slugged back the rest of his drink and handed her the empty. "Please," he told her. She gave him a raised eyebrow on that one, but when I followed suit and drained mine, handing her the empty, she got a sly little smile on her face.

"Okay, refills coming up," she told us and headed back to the kitchen, her tight ski pants and clingy sweater accenting several of the reasons I loved her. Andy was staring after her, too.

I kind of smiled and stood up. "Thanks for the help with the wood," I told him. "I think I'm going to go get some more and fill the bin. It's gonna get bloody cold out tonight."

"You want help?" he asked, starting to get up.

"Naw... you just relax. You've earned it. I'll be back in a few." I went over to the fireplace and picked up the canvas carrier for the wood, and headed for the back stoop. I was intentionally going to stall, in case Susan wanted to use my absence to encourage him. Like she'd said... she and I make a great team.

By the time I got back, Andy was standing by the fire, holding his drink and looking dazed. I tried to keep the smile off my face.

"The drink okay?" I asked as I set the carrier down and started transferring the wood to the bin.

"She kissed me," he answered -- sounding dazed. Now I really had to keep the smile off my face.

"Cool," I told him. "Is the drink okay?"

"No, I mean, she kissed me..." he came back, still sounding dazed. Must've been one hell of a kiss.

"Good for her. And you," I told him. "I'm going to presume the drink is okay."

"What? Oh. Oh! Yeah... the drink's fine..." Then he turned to look at me.

"Rick, she really kissed me..."

"Is that why you've got a bulge in your pants?" I asked. He was, in fact, bulging a bit. He looked down and suddenly looked embarrassed. "She's pretty good at kissing, you know," I added, putting the empty carrier away.

"I do, now..." he muttered, still looking at his crotch. Then he looked up at me. "She's never thanked me for working on the wood like that before..." I had to smile. "I mean... she really kissed me!"

"I told you, you're in her sights. She will absolutely honor No Means No, but if the opportunity comes up, I wouldn't say No, if I were you. Hell, even if I were me!"

"Yeah... well... okay..." He was still sounding a bit dazed.

"Okay, guys!" Susan called from the kitchen. "Soup's on! Come schlep it to the table..."

* * * * *

It was another of her wonderful home-cooked meals and there wasn't much conversation while we ate. There were a number of looks towards her from Andy. Surreptitiously, of course. And Susan was doing a great job of being blithely unaware of them.