Christmas Eve eve morning

A can of condensed chicken soup careened off the shelf and landed on Joe’s foot. “Fucking holy hell!”

“Shhhh… Jeez, Joe, suck it up.” The whole idea of doing it in the pantry was to be discreet.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he whispered as he hiked my skirt above my waist and sank his hand between my legs. “Now show me some of that love.”

He traced a line with his lips from behind my ear down to the top of my spine. There was something so deliciously naughty about hiding away, secretly making love in a room no bigger than four-foot square.

I clutched onto the herbs and spices shelf as he entered me from behind, crouching down and almost lifting me off my feet as he thrust into me.

“Fuck.”

He slid his hand gently over my mouth, reminding me to be silent. I sank my teeth into it, enough to make him gasp.

We’d promised to be good. He’d come over, be ‘the gardener’, sneak a quick kiss here or there when we wanted but there would be no sex for two weeks. Greg, my son, was home for Christmas and had brought a girl with him for the very first time. This was not the moment to suddenly announce my polyamorous lifestyle to the family. I mean ‘pass the potatoes, and oh, by the way, I’m dating three men’ wasn’t exactly what you’d call polite Christmas dinner conversation.

Unfortunately, Joe was horny, and I was weak. A touch on the arm had turned into a cuddle on a chair and before we knew it, he was pounding me among the pasta and other dry goods.

Sex with Joe was rampant, wild. He had one hand clamped firmly over my mouth and the other rubbing furiously at my clit, and I was begging him to make me come. He sped up the rhythm, knocking over a packet of rice and sending it cascading over us as we both came explosively and yet silently, rocking that little room like a miniature earthquake.

I sank down from my tiptoes—Joe was a tall man—and caught my breath. I might have to do a little last-minute shopping. The contents of the cupboard were splayed out at my feet, but it had been worth it.

“Shit, Jane, I needed that.”

“Right? I thought we could wait, but it’s like when you go on a diet. The minute you can’t eat sugar, all you can think about is frosted donuts.”

He pulled out his dick and swirled his finger around my core one last time. “Next time, I get to eat the frosted donut, right?”

“Not if we do it in here again, you don’t. I’m too old to try to balance four shelves up among the canned beans and peanut butter.” I opened the door and peeked outside. It was nine a.m. and Greg would be up any minute. We were cutting it fine.

“Is it all clear?”

“Yes.” I stepped out, pulling my skirt down to a presentable level. I’d have to start wearing yoga pants and old T-shirts around Joe. The man was a sucker for a bit of thigh, and I couldn’t risk getting carried away again.

“Here.” I grabbed a broom as I picked rice out of my hair. “Make yourself useful while I make coffee.” He held up the knotted, used condom, waved it at me, and I took it out of his hand.

Right on cue, Greg stepped into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom.”

“Morning, sweetie.” I shoved the condom down my bra as Greg wiped the sleep out of his eyes. “This is Joe, our gardener.”

“Why is he sweeping the pantry?”

Fuck. “Umm…”

“Raccoons,” said Joe. “They got in last night and went rampant.”

“Yes, raccoons,” I repeated. “Out of control.” Personal note, thank Joe later.

He finished sweeping and tidying then headed outside without even a kiss goodbye. My heart sank a little. It didn’t seem right to treat him like that, but he understood. Greg was still young, he wasn’t over his father’s death yet and he was in his final year of college. It wouldn’t be fair to spring this on him, too.

“So what have you and Laura got planned for today? There’s a Christmas market on in town. We could all go drink some mulled wine and pick up some treats for Christmas Eve.”

“If you like. I was planning to take her out for lunch then go for a walk along the beach this afternoon. Would you like to come too? Maybe you could bring Rupert.”

Rupert was my official boyfriend in my son’s eyes. Greg had fixed us up and was proud to have found the new man in my life. “No thank you, sweetie. Rupert’s coming over tomorrow for dinner. He’s been busy marking papers and wanted to get it all finished before we celebrated Christmas together.”

It would have been oh-so-lovely to have all my lovers at the Christmas table with us. It felt rude to only invite the one. They’d all been great about it, but it had broken my heart a little. At least I could invite Paul over this afternoon if he were free. I didn’t normally fit in two boyfriends in one day, but needs must, and right now I needed the sweet taste of Paul’s lips on mine.