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“Oh god.”

That did it. For all of us, I think. She made those sweet cries again and Doc grunted and groaned. Me, I bit my lip and thanked god that the wall held me up because I had both hands shoved deep into my shorts, riding my orgasm like a tidal wave between my thighs. My chest heaved, my nipples so hard they hurt, and my panties and shorts were soaked with my cum.

And I still had to pee. Now more than ever.

“Shhhh.” Carrie giggled. “She might hear us.”

“She’s probably listening right now, masturbating on the sofa.”

“No way!” Carrie exclaimed and I froze, holding my breath. “You think so?”

“Want to go find out?”

“You’re bad.” She giggled again and I heard them rearranging again in the dark.

I crept away from the door as quietly as I could, finding my way back to the couch and collapsing there, pulling the blanket back over me. I could hardly catch my breath, but I still wanted more. My pussy insisted, and I did just what Doc said I would—I touched myself again on the sofa, reliving the moment, imagining them both, in me, on me, all over me. Finally sated, I drifted, my bladder complaining until sleep took me, but I didn’t dare go through their room to the bathroom. Who knew what I might do?





28



Chapter Two

Morning dawned like a gift, sun streaming in the windows, the world washed clean. I woke up to Doc squatting next to the sofa holding a cup of hot coffee and smiling.

“Thought you might want this.” He held it out and I groaned, opening both eyes and focusing. He was wearing a t-shirt and boxer shorts, his dark hair tousled from sleep. “Not much of a drinker are you?”

“Not much,” I acknowledged hoarsely, sitting up and reaching for the warm mug.

My bladder rebelled immediately— no more liquid input until we have output!

“Bathroom,” I stated flatly, handing the mug back to him and scrambling up.

“Are you going to throw up?” he called sympathetically as I bolted toward the door.

“Pee!” I countered, rounding the corner, glancing briefly at their bed, still unmade.

Carrie wasn’t in it. The shower was running, but I opened the bathroom door anyway, making for the toilet. I’d never had to pee so badly in my life.

“Hey you.” Carrie poked her head out to see me as I sighed in relief, finally relaxing and letting go. My kidneys actually hurt. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good.” I felt my face redden and I pulled my t-shirt down a little, embarrassed, although god only knows why. I’d been in a shower with her yesterday, touching her privates and shaving her clean, and last night…

Well, she didn’t know about last night, did she? That was my secret.

She ducked back into the shower, calling out, “That couch can be killer if you get in the wrong position.”

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“It was fine.” I finished and flushed the toilet, turning the water on to wash my hands.

“Eiiieeee!” Carrie squealed and poked her head back out. “Don’t flush!”

“Too late,” I apologized, wincing. “I forgot, sorry.” I knew how the water worked in these apartments. We couldn’t do dishes and run a bath in the same hour or the hot water would run out, and the shower always turned freezing the moment anyone flushed. With Mason gone so much, I’d lost any sense of water temperature decorum.

“It’s coming back.” She sounded relieved. “Do you want to shower after me?”

“I have to go home.” I glanced in the mirror. My hair was a dark messy cloud around my face and down my back, out of control. “I have to feed my cat.”

“Do you want to do something later?” She stuck her head back out again, face beaded with water, hair wet and slicked back, making her blue eyes even more striking.

“Doc’s got to be back at the hospital by five.”

“Sure.” I didn’t know why I felt shy now when I’d been so comfortable before.

“Last night was fun.”

“We should do it more often.” She winked and pulled the curtain again.

“Talk to you later?” I called.

“Definitely!”

I made my way back through the kitchen and found Doc sitting on the sofa in the living room with a newspaper, a TV tray set up with two mugs sitting on it. He looked up and smiled when he saw me hesitating the in the doorway.

“Here’s your coffee.” He nodded toward the table. “Want to join me?”

30



I should have declined, for a myriad of reasons, but I didn’t. Instead I took a seat on the couch opposite him.

“Which section do you want?” he asked, shuffling through the paper.