Family Ties

“He’s protective all right, but he doesn’t like me. Sorry.” I stole another carrot. “You’re just saying that ’cause you want it to be true.”

“I am not,” she said indignantly.

“Yeah, you are. Sorry, honey.”

Wren’s eyes flashed at the last word, but I plowed ahead as if I hadn’t noticed.

“Rich and I will eventually see eye to eye—no pun intended—but not any time soon.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” Christy said. She had her rose-colored glasses firmly in place, so I decided not to argue with her.

“The rest of our visit was fine,” I said to Wren. “Good times with family, moonlit walks on the beach—”

“Very romantic,” Wren agreed.

“Lots of food and drink,” I added. “Oh… and one marriage proposal.”

Wren’s eyebrows flew up, exactly how I’d hoped.

“Oh my gosh!” Christy gushed. “I forgot to tell you. It was so romantic!

Danny had it all planned…”

I chuckled to myself as Wren realized what I’d done. She was stuck between being annoyed with me for the bait-and-switch or excited for Christy and her brother. She eventually settled on excited, although I could tell that she was already planning her revenge. She really didn’t like being one-upped.

Christy eventually wound down, and Wren fought off another yawn.

“We’d better let her get to bed,” I said to Christy. “It’s two in the morning here. We’re still on San Diego time.” Our bodies had finally gotten used to Pacific time just in time for us to return to Eastern. “Getting late for us too, though.”

Christy nodded.

“Well,” Wren said through another yawn, “I’m glad you made it home safe. It sounds like you had fun.”

“We did.”

“I’ll tell you about our trip tomorrow. It was good. A little stressful, but good.” She stood and looked anxious for a moment, like she couldn’t decide

what to do next.

I caught her eye and gave a discreet nod toward Christy.

She smiled and thanked me silently. Then she bent to kiss Christy’s temple. Anyone else would have thought it was a friendly gesture, but I knew how much affection it held.

“Goodnight,” she said to her. “Glad you had a good trip. See you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning,” Christy echoed.

Wren moved behind me and kissed my cheek. “I’ll get you for that,” she whispered, playful instead of malicious. She straightened and said in a normal voice, “Glad you made it home safe. Sleep tight.”

I touched her hand on my shoulder. “You too.”

She headed toward the stairs and bed.

“Do you wanna have a nightcap before we go up?” Christy asked.

“No,” I said immediately. “Thank you. I think I need to dry out for a couple of days. Your family doesn’t do anything in half-measures.”

“No,” she agreed with a laugh, “we’re pretty much overachievers.”

“You can say that again.”

She grinned at the deliberate straight line. “We’re pretty much overachievers.”

“Exactly. Now come on, Little Bit. Time for bed.”

“Together or separate?” she teased. “I know,” she added quickly,

“separate. Baby steps.”

“Right you are.”

We turned out the lights and went upstairs. Then we lingered at her bedroom door.

“I had fun this weekend,” I said. “I like your family.”

“I’m glad. I knew you would.” She smiled up at me hopefully, and I bent to give her a kiss. She hugged me after and pressed her cheek to my chest.

Then she inhaled deeply and sighed.

I kissed the top of her head and breathed in the scent of her too.

We parted slowly.

“Sweet dreams,” I said at last.

She smiled. “Of penises.”

“One in particular, I hope.”

“Mmm hmm!”

I kissed her one last time before she closed the door.

I went to my own bedroom and did the same. Then I kicked off my shoes and flopped on the bed.

Part of me was happy—ecstatic, even—but part of me was worried.

Christy and I were moving awfully fast. We were already hinting at a future together and kids. Yet she didn’t really know a thing about me. She didn’t know my family were nudists. She didn’t know we were swingers. She didn’t know the real me, the private person on the inside.

I lay there for a long time thinking about it. Then I tried to distract myself by reliving the weekend in my head. But once I started thinking about it, I began to see a pattern.

Christy had come out to the porch on Thanksgiving evening, but I’d made the decision to take off her pajamas. Once we were under the covers, I had put my hand under her camisole. And then I’d told her to take out my hard-on and play with it. In every case she’d been passive while I was active. She’d been willing, but I’d made all the decisions.

The pattern repeated for our walk on the beach and everything we’d done on the blanket. She was willing and even eager, but I took things to the next level. The same was true for our walk to clear my head, even though we hadn’t fooled around.

I thought back through the past few weeks and couldn’t come up with many times when she had been the one to start things. A few times when she’d been drinking, but she rarely made a physical move. They were usually invitations, although never explicit ones.