Jennifer's Eggnog

  Jennifer’s Eggnog

  An Erotic Tale for Christmas

  by

  Jake Malden

  Table of Contents

  Jennifer’s Eggnog

  Extract from The Tempting of Neely J

  Extract from Daniella Bound

  Published by Jake Malden at Amazon

  Copyright 2015 Jake Malden

  Cover Design: Kari Nappi

  Editor: Kelly Mallett

  Stock photos supplied by Shutterstock

  By the same author:

  The Gavin McClain Stories Vol.1

  Copyright 2014 Jake Malden

  Extra-Curricular

  Copyright 2014 Jake Malden

  The Tempting of Neely J

  Copyright 2013 Jake Malden

  The Jared Effect

  Copyright 2012 Jake Malden

  The Jared Enigma

  Copyright 2015 Jake Malden

  Gabrielle and the Devil

  Copyright 2013 Jake Malden

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be sold or given away to others. If you would like to share this book with someone else, please purchase an additional copy for that person. You may not reproduce this work, in part or in its entirety, without the express written permission of the author.

  Jake Malden is a part-time writer, hoping to make the creation of exciting erotic fiction his full-time profession. If you enjoy this ebook, please help him in achieving this goal.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Jennifer’s Eggnog

  The first shot struck Jennifer under the chin. That one was courtesy of Lawrence. She was still yelping from the impact when Trent’s delivery took her full in the face, filling her mouth and blinding her in a thick white explosion. She spat and wiped her eyes clear, glaring at the pair of them, before her gaze settled on Trent. Scooping up snow she pursued her guy, screaming with mirth as she ran. He taunted as he fled from her, but cockiness was his undoing. He stumbled knee-deep in a drift and floundered in his attempts to right himself.

  “Bastard!” Jennifer laughed as she pelted him and then pushed him over while he was still off-balance. He grabbed hold of her parka and pulled her with him. Together they rolled down the slope in a white-powder flurry, till she straddled and pinned him.

  “Language, baby!” he chided. “What would Pastor Jenkins think?”

  “That you deserved it.” Her eyes dared him to fight back.

  A scream from Kimmie diverted her. The brunette had attempted a similar assault on Lawrence to that which Jennifer had perpetrated on Trent, but with manifestly less success. Kimmie’s shots having flown wide of the mark, Lawrence took firm hold and hoisted his girl squealing upside-down. Then he dropped her flailing to the ground and held her there, rubbing snow in her laughing, spluttering face.

  “You’re so mean!” she protested.

  He grinned in response. “I think that’s how you like me.”

  “Now there,” Jennifer goaded, “is a guy who’s got control of his woman.” Trent flipped her over and they wrestled till she disarmed him with a slow kiss on the mouth. “See?” Her breath smoked in the cold. “That’s why I’m the boss of you.”

  “Oh really?” He stroked her face and smiled. “Don’t bet on it.”

  * * * *

  The winter-scape captivated with its pine-fringed beauty, but eventually frost bit into their gloved fingers and the indoor refuge beckoned to the group.

  Within an hour they were dried off and basking before a cracking pine-log fire, sipping the treat Jennifer had provided. Andy Williams was crooning on the stereo and the whole place was wreathed in thick gold tinsel. Coloured lights blinked on the tree and mistletoe hung in bunches from the rafters.

  “This is luxury,” Kimmie cooed. “It doesn’t get any better than this, right? And your eggnog is delicious, Jen. We should rent this chalet every Christmas.” She nestled into the crook of Lawrence’s arm, flames glinting in her big hazel eyes. Her soft-featured brand of prettiness always reminded Jennifer of Bambi.

  Her fiancé snuggled her to him. He was the perfect Kimmie compliment, Jennifer considered. The big strapping jock, who so enjoyed playing the role of her protector. And how the doe-eyed brunette played up to it. “We could do it next year, joint honeymoon,” he suggested.

  “Yeah – and since we’ll all be legally wed,” Jennifer added, “there’ll be no raised eyebrows at church about couples shacking up in Lake Tahoe.”

  “My folks think the boys are bunking together,” Kimmie said with a giggle.

  Jennifer caught the guys’ joint grimace. “A bit too gay for you, Lawrence? Trent not so cosy a bed-buddy as the one you’ve got?” Kimmie blushed as her fiancé squeezed her tighter. Jennifer hugged Trent and he cuddled her in return, all four of them basking in their shared secret.

  Back at St Bart’s no one would have believed it, so absorbed were the quartet into church life. Kimmie had even given a talk to the youth group, beaming all the while, about how she and Lawrence were saving themselves until they were united in the sight of God, and Jennifer had told her wide-eyed Sunday School students about the specialness of marriage. Their four day December retreat to the mountain lodge had raised some pious eyebrows, but they’d been clear to family and friends about sleeping arrangements.

  Clear – and utterly disingenuous.

  The conversation where it had all come to light still resonated in Jennifer’s mind. “We’re sleeping together,” Kimmie had confessed, in hushed guiltiness. “I mean – not just sleeping.”

  “That’s terrible,” had been Jennifer’s response. “So are we.” Once the shock and the laughter had subsided, she’d reassured her friend. “Okay, we’re stretching the rules a little, but come on, we’re both engaged. Trent and I have even prayed after he gave me the ring. As far as we’re concerned, we’re committed in the sight of God. The marriage is making it official, that’s all. After we all get spliced next summer, who’s going to worry? Why give yourself a hard time about it? I mean are you and Lawrence going to stop now you’ve started?”

  “Well … no,” Kimmie had admitted with a blushing smirk.

  “Neither are me and Trent.”

  How they had grinned. And now they were all secluded in their luxury log cabin, while the snow drifted all around, hemming them in. It gave Jennifer a peculiar thrill to know that both couples would be getting sexy that night under the same roof. While she was riding Trent on their bed, her sweet-natured BFF would be getting taken by her guy in a different room. How wonderfully naughty – the knowledge that they would get ‘done’ more or less together. Trent was revelling in the same notion, she was sure, his long, hard body awaiting her under his jeans and t-shirt.

  “Tell them about the eggnog,” her dark-haired fiancé said, and they both smirked, recalling the conversation they had shared.

  “Tell us what?” Kimmie was wide-eyed.

  “Family secret,” Jennifer said, unable to help the furtive attitude which overtook her. “A dark one. My Grandma Lewis told me when I turned twenty-one.” Kimmie and Lawrence drank deep of both liqueur and story. Trent leaned forward, enjoying the tale’s retelling she had already shared with him. “The recipe,” she explained, “goes way back in Mom’s family, so Grandma said, right to Sarah Lewis who lived in Massachusetts in the 1750s. It was passed down the generations, but my great-great-grandma and her family were run out of town when she started selling it. They fled west.” Met with inquisitive stares, she made the most of her story. “We’re not talking about regular eggnog here. It’s got properties.”

  Kimmie scrutinised the bright-yellow fluid she’d been sipping. H
er fascination was palpable. “What kind of properties?”

  “Well might you ask. It’s a potion, so Grandma said. It inflames people’s secret desires – to extremes.” Even though she knew it was arrant nonsense, the telling of her tale was getting her hot under the sweater, so much so that she peeled it off and flung it aside, relieved to be free of its heat and delighted to set her breasts bouncing under her flimsy tee-shirt. Maybe it had been the stricken look on Kimmie’s face or the way Lawrence’s visage was darkening with interest that had excited her. Even Trent’s gaze was intensifying, and she’d already laughed with him about the absurdity of the whole eggnog legend.

  “Potion?” her brunette friend inquired. “You mean like … witches’ potion? Should we even be talking about this?”

  “Yeah – did they drink a bunch of this stuff in Salem?” Trent was making fun, but his words served to discomfit Kimmie visibly.

  “I don’t think eggnog even existed in the New World when all the witch trial stuff was going on,” Jennifer said blithely and spiced her follow-up with a spooky tone. “But maybe it became part of the craft down the line. At any rate it caused a whole-town orgy in Bedford, Massachusetts – everybody was, you know, at it.” She giggled, a blush creeping around her neck. “I mean in public – not caring who saw what they were doing. That’s why the church people chased the Lewis family away. The recipe has hardly been used since, so Grandma said.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t the recipe. Maybe you just have a whole bunch of horny ancestors on your Mom’s side of the family.” Lawrence was grinning, but some stronger emotion was at work beneath his amusement.

  “Have you met my Mom?” Jennifer laughed. “Seriously though … When my Grandma told me, there was something odd about her.”

  “Odd?” It showed in Kimmie’s eyes – the girl was possessed by a need to know more.

  “Yeah,” Jennifer said. “It wasn’t long before she passed away, God rest her. I was with her and she told me she’d made eggnog from the recipe once – when she was a girl – and that she’d shared it with some friends. Said it was like no other experience she’d had in her life.”

  “Your Grandma was pretty confused towards the end of her life,” Trent reminded her.

  “I know, but not when she told me.” Jennifer could recall the moment like it was sealed in amber. Her grandmother reaching out and taking her hand, eyes glowing with a lucidity that had not been there for years. It was amazing, like nothing else I’ve ever known. A girl should try it once, Jennifer. It’ll open her eyes. But … But she needs to be careful. There’s a price to be paid. Maybe it’s worth it though … No. No, don’t listen to me, my dear. It’s just an old woman rambling. Forget I told you this. Forget I said a word.

  Jennifer had not forgotten – how could she? Her pious Grandma’s hand clamping to her wrist, the fire of memory in the elderly woman’s eyes... She wondered if her late grandfather had even suspected that latent passion.

  “After Grandma passed,” she told her friends, the levity having departed from her voice, “I was helping Mom go through her things. She had a whole attic full of stuff. And there in this ancient recipe book I found it. All the ingredients listed like she’d described them to me. The writing was almost faded, but I wrote the whole thing out and saved it.”

  “So what’s the big difference?” Lawrence stroked Kimmie’s bare shoulder, clearly happy that his girl had discarded her sweater as well.

  “Well it’s got all the usual things in it – bourbon, brandy, cream – plus a few extra.”

  “You must have noticed the flavor,” Trent said to the others, arm coiling around his girlfriend’s waist. “Tell them what’s in it, Jenny. Get a load of this, guys.”

  “Okay, well …” She enjoyed listing them off. “There’s ginseng, catuaba, sarsaparilla, horny goat weed …”

  “Horny what?” Kimmie let out a burst of laughter, Lawrence grappling her close as she rocked with mirth.

  “Goat weed. But …” Jennifer adopted her hokey ghost-story tone once more. “It’s not just what’s in it. You got to stir it a special way while you make it – so many times clockwise, then counter-clockwise – and you got to incant.”

  “Incant?” This time it was Lawrence with the question, his voice incredulous.

  “Yes, it says so in the recipe. It even supplies the words. They were… They were… What were they? Luxuriosus per se secretum. Or something. I didn’t even know if I was saying it right.”

  Kimmie stared in awe and no little concern at her glass’s contents. “You mean … you did all that stuff while you made it?”

  “That’s my girl,” Trent said, stroking Jennifer’s thigh through her leggings. “No half-measures. I was there.”

  Yes – and you fucked me afterwards on my parents’ bed, you bad boy. Like the fumes alone had infected you…

  “Alice Lincoln would go absolutely crazy if she knew you’d done that,” Kimmie said, summoning up the spirit of the chief elder’s wife. “She’d say you should leave the church.”

  “Alice Lincoln thinks Harry Potter is Satanic,” Jennifer reminded her. “Kim, relax. It’s a piece of family folklore, that’s all. Which is kind of a good thing, as I’ve made bottles of the stuff – the kitchen’s full of it.” She giggled at the look on Kimmie’s face at her cheeky flourish. “Chill out, it’s a story!”

  “A hot story,” Trent added. Jennifer could not help but be struck by the huskiness in his voice and his hand’s possessive squeeze on her waist. God, the bulge in his jeans – straining so much it couldn’t be missed. She glanced involuntarily at Lawrence’s sweatpants and witnessed similar activity tenting his crotch. The big lunk was stroking Kimmie’s hair and plucking idly at the strap of her tank-top. Neither guy was making any attempt to conceal his arousal.

  Jennifer’s fiancé’s fingers traced her spine and made her shudder. Her nipples were pricking against her lace bra, poking themselves impertinently through two layers of material. They were making quite a sight, if Lawrence’s sneaked look at her chest was anything by which to judge. Kimmie was on a similar kind of display, as proud and pointy as if she’d walked off the set of Mad Men.

  Just a story, Jennifer reassured herself, though one which had compelled her to follow the recipe to the letter. One which was packing one hell of a placebo effect, so these bursting erections and hard nipples were suggesting. Along with her soaking loins... She wondered if Kimmie was equally wet. From the flush of her friend’s face she suspected as much. It’s a bit of innocent fun, that’s all, something to spice up the evening. Something these all-but-married couples could take to their respective rooms.

  Yet no one was going anywhere. No one was making a move. They were all content to luxuriate in the sexy moment.

  “It’s hot in here,” Kimmie breathed, breasts heaving against her flimsy woollen top. “So hot …”

  Jennifer had never seen her friend looking so sweet and delicious. All the brunette’s eggnog-related fears appeared to be fading, as her softness melted into the harsher contours of her fiancé’s body. How hard had she been taken by Lawrence? Jennifer could not help but try and imagine. Had he powered into his girl the way he so clearly wanted to? Normally Jennifer would have brushed the thought away, but tonight she was allowing it to linger. She was positively nurturing it, letting her mind dwell on what the two would look like together…

  Her conscience struggled lazily under the erotic malaise that was clouding her mind. “We’ve got ice-cream in the freezer,” she said, the words coming out sultry like she was sure she hadn’t intended. “If you’re hot, I mean. We got caramel pudding too, already made up. All kinds of sticky desserts.” Hell, why was she saying this stuff? She didn’t know or care.

  “But have more eggnog first,” Trent said, his voice teasing Kimmie as he ladled freely from the bowl into his glass. God, Jennifer thought, glancing at her fiancé, you’re hot for my best friend! But then she’d always known it, in the same way he surely knew she fancied Lawren
ce, for all the obviousness of his bulked-up jock appeal. Kimmie and she joked openly about the pair of prime male specimens they’d bagged – each knew the other’s guy was hot.

  Lawrence had followed his buddy’s lead with the eggnog and together the guys chinked their glasses together before quaffing. Look at that. The smug bastards are toasting how they’re both going to get totally laid tonight. They’re revelling in it!

  The notion caused a surge of heat in Jennifer’s lower belly. “Go on,” she urged her friend, unable to resist tempting the scrumptious brunette. “Drink some. I’m sure I’ve had a quart – you need to catch me up!”

  “I don’t know.” Kimmie bit a plump lip nervously. “It seems wicked after your story.”

  Jennifer eyed her befuddled companion. “Don’t you like it?”

  “I love it. It’s the most delicious drink I’ve ever tasted. Like it’s so delicious it’s a… it’s a sin.”

  “It’s just eggnog, Kim. Heck, we’ll all sing some carols after.”

  “I love carols.” Kimmie smiled and filled her glass like all was suddenly well. “They always make me feel so sexy.”

  Lawrence almost spurted eggnog out of his nose. “Carols make you feel sexy?”

  “What? I didn’t say ‘sexy’, I said ‘Christmassy’. Didn’t I?” Kimmie stared around at her friends in blushing confusion.

  “Well,” Jennifer said, “I think Christmas is fucking sexy.” The unplanned but exquisitely placed f-bomb exploded among them, laying waste to their churched-up cosiness. Its effect seemed to resonate in the warm interior air, registering in everyone’s face. Kimmie was open-mouthed and breathing heavily, her breasts heaving so that the cleavage pressed against the low-cut V of her tank-top. Lawrence’s features had darkened so that Jennifer could almost hear his growl. Trent, her lean-muscled hero, had taken on a similarly wolfish quality.