Christmas Day. Shelly was in the driver’s seat, her bunny slipper on the pedal, steering wheel in one hand while she searched through the stations of the radio for something that wasn’t Celine Dion singing Come All Ye Faithful.
“Deer!” I screamed, pointing out the windshield, covering my eyes. I am not sure how she missed it. I credit the coke we’d snorted earlier. Either that or divine providence.
“Fucking Rudolf!”
We blew past in our ‘borrowed’ car, my ex (as of last night when I caught Brad fucking Karen Murphy in the ass) boyfriend’s Mustang. I mean, come on, Christmas Eve and the douchebag is cheating on me? We were totally justified in taking, not only his car, but his wallet, his stash of coke, and his fraternity’s mascot, Bill.
“Baa!”
I glanced over my shoulder, startled as I came eye to eye with a goat wearing a blue jersey with Sigma Alpha Nu in white lettering across the chest.
“Baa!” he repeated.
“I think he’s hungry, Shell,” I shouted at my roomie. She’d finally found a classic rock station and was blasting Led Zep at full volume.
“Give him a carrot! Shit!”
Poor Bill slid across the back seat, a look of consternation in his eyes as we swerved to avoid a freaking porcupine waddling across the interstate.
I glanced at the speedometer - 90mph - and giggled. Too much coke and too much tequila will do that to you.
“You should probably slow down...”
“We’re almost there,” she announced, easing up on the pedal.
Her Uncle had a cabin hidden away in the hills.
“Baaaaa!”
Oh, right. I dug through the grocery bag at my feet and found a couple of carrots.
“Here you go, Bill. Dinnertime.”
oOo
It wasn’t much, but it did have a fireplace, a microwave, and a fridge. Shelly, still dressed in her pjs, cracked a beer and started the popcorn while I did my best to get a fire going. Bill, meanwhile, was wandering around the place like a tourist.
“Baa!”
I heard the sound of munching, turning to find Bill chewing on a cowboy hat. The brim was already half gone.
“Shelly! Carrots!”
Shelly came skipping out, her blonde curls a windblown mess, a bowl of popcorn in one hand, two buds in the other.
“Hands full. Bill!” she yelled, spitting popcorn and tossing the bottles towards me before attempting to wrestle the hat away, scattering popcorn everywhere.
“Baa!” Bill protested at being robbed of his dinner before starting in on the popcorn.
“Bad goat,” she chided him, hustling back into the kitchen for another batch of popcorn.
“Baa!” Bill responded which, I am fairly certain, translated to ‘fuck you’.
Eventually, I got the fire going, Shelly returned with fresh popcorn, oreos, and carrots for Bill.
“They should be waking up about now. I wish I could see their faces when they discover we’ve stolen their stupid goat.”
“Assholes had it coming.”
I wasn’t the only one with a beef against Sigma Alpha Nu. Shelly’s ex belonged to the frat too.
We each finished off a couple of brews and sat by the fire for a bit, talking over each other, laughing, raging, until the room had grown a little too warm.
“Hot in here. Going to explore a bit.” By that time Shell had shed her pj bottoms (she had the cutest little peppermint striped panties on underneath) and I was down to pair of red boy shorts and a bright green tank.
“Baa! Bill bleated, drawing our attention.
“Bill!”
I giggled as she attempted to rescue her pj bottoms from the hungry goat.
oOo
We didn’t find much of interest other than a six shooter, the kind you find in old western movies. Bill, meanwhile, discovered a leather couch that he promptly attempted to eat before falling asleep on one of the cushions. Being kidnapped, apparently, wasn’t as traumatic as one might think.
“Hey, look, I’m a cowgirl,” Shelly called out from another room while I was cracking open another beer.
I could hear her clomping down the hall as I flung myself onto the couch, next to our clueless captive, legs curled up under me.
“Baa,” Bill protested sleepily.
“Howdy, pardner,” my roomie drawled.
She looked kind of sexy. That was the beer talking. I wasn’t normally into girls. She’d found a holster for the six gun, which was hanging off her left hip. Apparently, there was more than one cowboy hat in the house. Add to that a pair of black leather boots and her pajama tops with enough buttons undone to show off her belly button and some impressive cleavage.
“I’m gonna have to bring you in for goat rustlin’.”
“You’ll never take me alive.” Scrambling over the back of the couch, and headed for the door.
While there wasn’t snow on the ground, the dirt felt like ice against my bare feet as I headed for the hot springs that Shelly had pointed out upon our arrival. Freezing to death in my underwear wasn’t how I wanted to go. Sprinting down the trail, I could see steam rising up ahead. I spared a glance backwards. Shelly was on my tail, whooping it up like a maniac.
I came upon a pair of fairly deep pools with steam rising from them. Lovely warm steam. Throwing caution to the wind I plunged into the nearest pool, laughing drunkenly as I splashed my way into the center until I was waist deep. I practically moaned with pleasure as the heat soaked into my flesh.
“Well, now, look what we have here,” Shelly drawled from behind. “Purdy girl in a heap of trouble.”
“Come and get me,” I taunted.
Grinning, she tossed her boots aside and unbuckled the holster before wading into join me, a murmur of delight slipping between her lips.
“Almost better than sex.”
“Not even close,” I retorted, playfully splashing her, soaking her top.
“Jerk,” she growled, giving as good as she’d got. Soon, we were both soaking wet and laughing so hard that my legs gave out and I was forced to sit on a rock just below the surface and catch my breath. Shelly joined me, the water half way up our boobs. It was heavenly.
I’m not sure how long we sat like that, content to drink in the scenery in our drunken state. Half an hour, give or take, sometime during which I had found my hand in hers, her head resting comfortably on my shoulder. It felt nice there. I was in no hurry to move.
“I’m hungry. Want to make pancakes?” she asked, breaking the easy silence between us.
“Walking back in wet clothes sounds like fun,” I muttered, dreading the trek back, now that my adrenaline had worn off.
“Yeah, but… pancakes, Em. With real maple syrup,” she said dreamily.
We’d stocked up with groceries before heading for the hills and that had been at the top of our list, right after beer.
oOo
We’d stripped out of our wet clothes the moment we’d gotten back, teeth chattering loudly. I’d thrown another log on the fire and, naked, we’d warmed ourselves while Bill ate one of Shelly’s boots. It was kind of funny, to be honest, so we just watched with amusement.
“Want to do another line, Em?”
“Does the pope shit in the woods? What about your pancakes?”
Shelly just shrugged, yawning. “Getting kind of sleepy. It’s either that or crash out for a bit.
While Shelly plopped down on the leather couch and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, I hunted down our purloined stash and cut a pair of rails on a small mirror, handing it to my roomie.
“I always thought Brad was a prick, anyway. You deserve better.”
I shrugged at her words, watching as she sucked white powder into her nose through a silver tube.
“Baa.” Bill, apparently, was in agreement.
“Fuck him and Fuck Karen Murphy and fuck Sigma Alpha Nu. Now, pass the mirror.
“Baa.” Something else Bill agreed upon.
Shelly, however, had something else in mind. She licked her lips slowly as she lay back on the couch, leaning up against the armrest, and carefully pushed my line off the edge of the mirror, creating a powdery landing strip just above her pussy. Unlike me, who preferred an actual well-trimmed patch of hair, she waxed regularly.
She locked eyes with mine as she passed me the tube, smiling nervously as I simply stared at the line of coke on her tummy.
“Seriously?”
Shelly bit her lip and chewed for a while. The tension was almost palpable. Even Bill must have felt it, for he stopped in mid chew. Oh, what the hell. I could always blame it on the booze. Plus, she looked incredibly hot as well as vulnerable right now.
“Ever done it before?” she whispered huskily.
“Done a line off a girl’s pussy? Nope.”
She giggled.
“Stay still. I’m working here,” I told her, attempting to do the line as she squirmed.
The high hit me quickly, as did the scent of her arousal. If I’d been sober, I’d have probably stopped what I was doing, blushed a lot, apologized a little, and that would have been the end of it. As it was, I tossed the tube to one side and kissed her soft tummy attentively and then licked the remaining powder from her flesh, hypersensitive to the way she shivered and trembled as I got closer and closer to her pussy.
I wasn’t a prude, I’d tasted myself before, but Shelly tasted differently, slightly fruity. I felt her hands upon my head, stroking, fingers sneaking through my hair, tensing at times, then relaxing as I began to lick her wet pussy, my tongue gliding between puffy lips. What the hell, I was committed now and Shelly didn’t seem to be objecting. In fact, she shifted, spreading her legs for me, her fingers clenching as she held me in place between her thighs, gasping softly, her moans a crescendo until she came, suddenly, crying out my name as she gushed all over my mouth.
Neither of us spoke. I could hear her labored breathing above the crackling of the fire. Finally, Bill broke the silence.
“Baa,” he bleated, making us both giggle.
“That was nice,” Shelly murmured, her cheeks burning.
I started to wipe my mouth off with the back of my hand, stopping suddenly as she took hold of my wrist.
Let me,” was all she said, pulling me on top of me, kissing me, her tongue cleaning my lips of her nectar, teasing its way between my lips as the rush of coke burned through me, making me hornier than I’d been in ages. Like I said, I wasn’t really into girls, but right now? I was really into Shelly, or at least my pussy was, judging by how wet it was as I ground it against hers, humping her lustily. I was in heat.
I felt her pushing between us, her hand cupping my dripping wet sex, fingers slipping into me, thumb pressing against my swollen clit. Her wet mouth seeking out my boob, wet lips closing around my stiff nipple and sucking, licking, nipping playfully. My back arched suddenly as I fought for breath, moaning as she found my g-spot and pushed me so far over the edge, I thought I might never return.
oOo
The heat of the fire paled compared to the heat of her body as we lay entwined before it, limbs tangled, giggling, doing our best to ignore what had just happened. Trying to stay in the moment, really. All I knew is she felt good against me and I liked to kiss her.
“Best Christmas present ever,” I managed, trying to ignore the sound of Bill munching happily on one of Shelly’s bunny slippers, as her curls tickled my inner thighs. “I feel bad. All I got you is a stupid goat.”
