Author's Note: Originally this story was written last year but going through the archives, I felt it was good enough to put up this year. So here it is, co-written by Queen of Kaos. Enjoy!
"I need olive oil. Do we have olive oil?"
Candice Michelle turned towards the kitchen, her eyes sweeping over her girlfriend of two years. The little pink and black corset she sported made her B-cups look absolutely edible, while the ruffled black panties made her already-long legs look like they went on forever. The stilettos she wore only added to the image.
"Check the back of the cabinet." she instructed.
Maria Kallenis opened the cabinet to her left and peered inside. Grasping the small bottle in her hand, she turned slowly to find her girlfriend watching her every move. "Are you staring at my ass?" she asked coyly.
As her pink tongue peeked out between her lips, Candice shrugged. "Maybe."
Giggling, Maria leaned against the counter and let her eyes drift over the woman before her. The sheer black skirt she wore gave just a peek of the little purple thong underneath, both accentuating her beautifully round ass. And the black and pink push-up bra made her breasts irresistibly full and tantalizing. She had completed her look with platform boots, made of soft, expensive French leather.
"Come here." Maria grinned.
At the sink, the pair met in a soft kiss that was full of lust and desire. As if of their own accord, Maria found her arms wrapping around Candice's neck as she deepened the kiss, sucking gently on her girlfriend's top lip as her tongue roamed over the soft flesh.
"Dude, our life does not suck," a voice interrupted from the living room.
Breaking from the kiss, Maria looked through the window between the kitchen and the living room and smiled at her husband, John Cena. "Need another beer, Lover?"
He held up the bottle in his hand and examined it with a shrug. "Sure, baby," he smiled as his eyes turned back to the television.
"How about you, baby?" Candice asked the man beside John.
Dave Bautista glanced from the television to the bottle in his hand. "I'm good, baby. Thanks," he turned to offer her a panty-wetting smile. "You can bring me a Cuban, though," he winked.
With a giggle and a nod, Candice grabbed the box from the shelf near the door and took a cognac-flavored cigar. "How 'bout you, John? Want one?" She cast a glance over her shoulder to find him nodding.
Both men were reclined on the posh leather couch, their feet propped up on the matching ottoman a few feet away. A cheesy porn flick was playing on the massive plasma screen affixed to the wall as they waited for their women.
As Candice extended the cigar to Dave he reached out and pulled her into his lap. She re-adjusted and straddled his legs as he rested his hands on her hips. As she slid the cigar between his lips, he slid his hands under her little skirt, trailing nimble fingers over her bare ass. "You look good, baby girl," he whispered as she leaned toward him, allowing him to shower her neck with kisses.
Maria rolled her eyes at the public display as she extended the beer to her husband. Their wedding had been crazy and spontaneous. The weekend trip to Vegas was supposed to result in gambling and lots of sex—not a wedding. But the heat of the moment had taken them over and before they realized it, they were waking up husband and wife. The thought of an annulment or divorce had never really occurred to them.
When John grasped her fingers, Maria shook her head. "Baby, I have to finish dinner," she reminded softly, her innocent eyes wide as she gave him her best 'I'm trying to be good' look.
He pulled her back into his lap, her back pressed against his chest as he leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "I'd rather eat you."
Though the timber of his voice was tantalizing, Maria shook her head. "That is about as cheesy as your rap lyrics," she told him, smacking his thigh as she swung her leg over and straightened her corset. Moving past the lovebirds on the other end of the couch, she tapped Candice's shoulder. "Come on. We're cooking."
Candice whined, her chest still pressed against Dave's. She was very comfortable in her position and cooking was not that important. "I don't wanna."
Continuing to the kitchen, Maria rolled her eyes. She would prepare dinner, and Candice would join her soon enough. This night was not unusual for them—the women cooking while their men watched ESPN or porn with beer and cigars. Halfway through, Candice would always get bored with the cooking and go snuggle with Dave. But she would be back. She always came back.
As she watched the vegetables sautéing in the olive oil, Maria caught herself smiling. Some would probably find their arrangement a bit strange, perhaps hard to understand. The girls had been together longer than they had known their men. Finding two men who understood the dynamic of their relationship was hard enough - finding two who were willing to ease into the routine they had already established was a dream come true.
Candice had met Dave first, running into him at a hotel bar. They had shared drinks, and phone numbers. But Dave was in the process of a messy divorce, and an infidelity scandal wasn't helping things any. Starting something new was out of the question, but there was nothing wrong with being "friends."
As soon as the divorce was final, the pair began dating casually, though it was clear that the "casual" wasn't going to last. The relationship escalated, and on their six-month anniversary, Dave proposed. The couple decided to take their time in planning the wedding celebration to end all wedding celebrations.
Accompanying Candice on a trip to visit Dave, Maria had met John and fallen instantly. They vibed from the instant they said "hello" and Vegas had happened three months later. She couldn't explain or justify to doubters how she could equally love her husband and her girlfriend, but she found a freedom in knowing that she didn't have to.
She was jarred from her thoughts by a pair of soft arms wrapping around her midsection. Wet lips trailed the nape of her neck, sending chills up her spine. "Hey you," she giggled slightly, turning down the heat on the stove as she turned.
Candice's brown eyes stared back at her, her lips turned up in a brilliant smile. "The boys are getting hungry," she whispered before stealing another kiss.
Maria nodded and pulled away. "Okay, so let's get this on the table," she smiled, plating the food and then handing it off as Candice sat it on the table.
They would eat together like a big, happy family. And then they would share dessert in one of the house's huge bedrooms. Or in the living room. Or on the dining room table. Maybe all three.
As she slid into her spot beside John at the dinner table, Maria realized something. Their life, as her husband had so eloquently stated, did not suck.