25. December 31: Wilder

"This is nice. I've never had a date on New Year's Eve before," Savannah smiles, running her hand up my arm. My coat and her gloves are between us, but my body still warms to her touch.

"Really?" I ask. I've done this what feels like a million times.

Quick. I need to think of something to change the subject about these types of parties so she won't ask me if I usually go with someone or kiss someone at midnight. I don't know if I could lie to her if she outright asked me if I do this often.

I have it down. The host or hostess will take my coat, I present the wine I brought, and the girl I'm with will take the appetizer plate she made to the kitchen to talk to her friend while I sip a beer or eggnog with the guys in the living room. Sometimes, just to mix things up, there's a bar in a finished basement or a foosball table the guys are gathered around. I could blindfold myself and put noise canceling headphones on my ears, and I'd still know all the right things to say and do.

"I told you I've never had a boyfriend for this long."

"Right," I mumble.

She reddens and stiffens next to me. "I mean, I know you're not my real boyfriend or anything." She pulls away a little, and I don't like it. "And never will be…" her voice trails off.

Light snow falls around us, and I briefly look up at the sky and smile before looking back at her. "I'm here for the next six weeks. We're having a fun time, and we're going to a party tonight. Let's get in there and get that warming pot plugged in because your meatballs are the best on the planet."

She sighs, stands on her tiptoes, and places a small kiss on my chin.

It's not a kiss that will lead to sex. At least, it won't end in sex while we stand on her friend Melissa's porch. It's just an acknowledgement. A thanks. She's happy to be with me. I've made women content and have certainly satisfied them in bed, but I don't know if my existence has ever brought them joy.

My thoughts are interrupted by Melissa swinging the door open and ushering us inside as she takes our coats to a small bedroom off to the side of the living room. She kisses my cheek and quickly introduces me around the room before swooping Savannah off to the kitchen.

Typical.

I nod to the guys huddled in a small circle in the living room as their respective girlfriends talk in the dining room or kitchen. Someone hands me a beer, and I'm accepted into the group of guys in their late twenties that can usually find something to talk about. Sports. Cars. Beer. Any guy can pick up any conversation with another dude and have something to contribute. Once other men find out I'm a mechanic, they usually ask me about funny sounds their cars make or the latest model of whatever car is hot. Women are way more complicated when they meet each other.

We stay separated for most of the night, the men playing pool and air hockey in Melissa's fiancé's game room downstairs while the women huddle around the kitchen and the appetizers. It's only close to midnight when the women come downstairs to see what we're up to and pair off with their partners.

Savannah walks to me with a smile on her face and holding a plate, and I feel every eye in the room turn to us. Maybe it's because she normally doesn't bring a guy around or to parties, or maybe it's because we're an attractive couple, but the group mutters and elbows each other when she places a kiss on my cheek. I know that smile, though. It's the smile of a cuff partner that's happy someone came to a New Year's Eve party and will get a kiss at midnight this year instead of watching everyone else in the room.

It makes me sad, and it's all I can do to smile back at her. I know where I'll be next year. I'll be at another house like this one, talking to guys like the ones here, and kissing another cuff partner at midnight.

But where will Savannah be? Home alone with a tub of ice cream? Back here at Melissa's party and explaining why the guy she brought last year isn't here?

My stomach roils, but it's more for me than for her. Why am I worried about it? It's not my problem.

She hands me the plate. "I got you some appetizers. I'm not sure if you ate."

Her concern and desire to make sure I'm happy warms my heart. When has one of my cuffs ever worried about my well-being? I mentally backtrack, trying to remember if any of them ever asked me if I ate or slept well. In fact, I can't remember anyone ever asking me those questions. I sure didn't get that kind of concern in foster care, and if my mother ever asked me those questions, I don't remember. Surely, someone made me eat vegetables at some point.

I take the plate from her. "Thanks. Are you having fun?"

"I am. Sorry I left you. I got pulled into the ‘talk about your new relationship and tell us about the hot guy you're with' vortex in the kitchen. Every woman here is curious about us," she whispers.

"I got asked a few questions, but it's cool."

"Are you uncomfortable? If you're awkward, we can dip."

I shake my head and wipe hair back from her face. Her eyes close for a moment at my touch. "It's fine, and it's cool you left me for a bit. The guys are nice, and I can talk to anyone. It's one of the benefits of bouncing around a lot."

Savannah and I stare at each other for a few seconds until we're pulled out of our eye contact by the party counting down until midnight. Savannah looks up at me, the look of excitement for a midnight kiss written all over her face.

I push my forehead to hers. "Do you ever kiss someone at midnight?"

"Never. Does that make me a loser? Is it sad that I'm excited to kiss someone?"

I smile against her lips, ready to kiss them in ten seconds. "I'd never think you're a loser, and I can't wait to kiss you. They say how you start a year is how the year will go."

"Lots of kissing for me this year, huh?"

"At least for the first part," I say as chants welcoming the new year sound around us. Melissa's guests throw confetti and blow noisemakers when their lips aren't busy.

Savannah waits for a simple kiss, but I have other thoughts.

I snake my arms around her and dip her back like we've just done a fancy tango. A look of surprise crosses her face, and she wraps her hands around my neck, not entirely sure I won't drop her.

I'd never drop her.

"Happy new year, Savannah," I whisper close to her face. Tentatively, I kiss her lips, and she whines a little, the sound moving straight to my cock.

Our kiss moves from soft to hard in the space of a few seconds, and we melt into each other as mutterings of people telling us to get a room go ignored. That's not a bad idea.

I break the kiss and move my lips to her ear. "Want to go fuck in the coat pile?"

"Oh, my," Savannah sighs. "That would be something."

"Why can't we?"

"What do you mean? What if someone wants to leave and needs their coat while we're going to town on it?"

"I'll be quick. Come on. Let's have a quickie on top of your friends' coats."

I grab her hand and lead her up the stairs. Casting a quick look back at the crowd, nobody is paying attention to us. Everyone has drinks, plates of food, and resumes their game of pool or air hockey. Not one person notices we're walking up the stairs. If they do see us, they probably just think we're refilling our empty plates or getting another drink.

I lead her to the bedroom off the side of the living room and slip inside, fumbling for a light switch in the dark. When I find it, light fills the small room that must be used as a guest room. A simple bed is in the middle of the room with piles of coats draped over it. A dresser sits in the corner and has a simple vanilla candle and an obligatory box of tissues on top. The closet is small with slatted doors painted white. There are no decorations except for a floral wreath above the bed. If people didn't need their coats, it's possible nobody would come in this room for the next year.

Savannah's already at the bed searching through the coats and ponchos. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"If we're going to fuck on the coats, it's only fair we don't fuck on my friends' coats. I'm trying to find mine and yours."

"Totally missing the illicit part of this, snickerdoodle."

She laughs. "Grownups don't leave sex stains on their pals' coats."

"You're a good friend, Savannah Smart."

"Would you fuck a woman on Gus's coat."

A laugh bubbles from my chest. "Yes, and I'd even aim for it at the end."

"You have severe issues."

I unbuckle the belt at my pants and quickly lock the bedroom door. Thank fuck the door has a lock. I turn the light off and let my eyes adjust to the moonlight coming through the window before crossing the room. "Are we doing this or what?"

"As long as it's on my own coat."

"Can we compromise and put your coat on top of everyone else's?"

She makes a sound that's a cross between a sigh and laugh. "Fine. Can you hurry?"

"How fast this goes is up to you," I say, gesturing for her to undo her jeans and get her panties off. My dick is already out, hard, and weeping for her. "But nobody gets their coat back until you come for me."

"That's a lot of pressure. It's after midnight. People will finish their appetizers and want their shit."

"Bend over for me, and I'll do it from behind like you like." I push her on the bed and get between her legs, nudging her legs further apart as she gets on all fours. Her hands immediately go to her clit, and I quickly roll my handy wallet condom onto my dick. I've had to replenish a new condom in my wallet more often lately.

I flick the condom wrapper into the coat pile and make a mental note to find it later before someone finds a surprise on their jacket. Pushing myself into Savannah, I notice she's already dripping for me, probably from rubbing her clit. I meet no resistance.

"Fuck, Wilder," she whispers. It's been a few days since we've had sex because she was on her period after Christmas, and the familiar feel of her almost shoots me over the edge.

Her breath hitches every few seconds, and I playfully slap her ass, rewarding her for already getting herself close. Gripping her hips, I push all the way in, glancing to the door as a voice passes. They don't stop at the door, and I chuckle that we had a close call. I haven't fucked semi-publicly in a long time. The idea that we could be caught or outed for fucking in the coats makes my balls tighten.

"Do you like being dirty with me, Savannah?"

"Yes," she grunts, her hand moving furiously over her slit.

I back up from her, take my dick out, and slap it on her butt cheek as she whines. "What are you doing? Hurry and put it back in."

I laugh in response. "I just want to make it a little more fun," I say, bending over her ass and dropping a line of spit on her butt crack.

I watch it run down her butt and move to her pussy in the moonlight before slamming back into her, gripping her hips hard as my spit mixes with her wetness.

The filth and the sensation of it makes my vision swim, and I pull her into me as she pushes back. She moans, and I bend forward, putting my hand over her mouth as she bucks into me. "Shh. You sound like a common whore. We can't have your respectable friends hear that."

Her back and thighs tighten under me. "Such a naughty thing, coming for me like this where people can listen to my girl moan."

And she moans. She moans like fuck against my hand, and I clench it harder around her mouth. "Somebody likes it a little rough and likes me keeping you quiet when you work through that orgasm, huh?"

Her lack of shame earns her another spank on the back of her thighs. This time, I grimace at the sound. I really got her, and I glance to the door to make sure I can't see feet under the door.

The bed rocks under us until teeth meet my hand as she bites through her orgasm to keep from crying out my name. It's not a hard bite that will leave a mark, but it stings. I ride her through the sting because my own thighs tighten as pleasure moves up and down my body. Her pussy convulses around me, sending me over the edge. "Fuck, baby. Mmm."

She grips the coat pile under her as I ride her hard, pushing her into the fabric, and when I move my hand away, she moves from biting my skin to biting the hood of her coat at my harsh fucking. If anyone is standing outside the door, they may not hear our moans, but they'll definitely hear my thighs smacking against Savannah's skin.

Gripping her hips, I whisper something unintelligible and release into the condom. When I'm spent, I lean forward, running my hands up her back under her shirt. "We need to get dressed. We can cuddle at home."

She reaches back and tousles my hair. "I've never done anything like this before. Do you think anyone heard?"

I laugh. "If they did, that's on you. By the way, I didn't peg you as a biter."

"Only when someone makes me feel that good while their hand covers my mouth."

I smile and remove the condom, wrapping it in a tissue and placing it in a small trashcan with the wrapper I found stuck to a plaid poncho's fringe. If Melissa looks in the trash, she'll see the wrapper, but I don't think she'll care.

Savannah stands, still trembling from her orgasm, and pulls her pants up before straightening the coats and checking for signs of sex on them as well as she can in the moonlight.

Once she's sure we didn't get anything on anyone's coat but her own, which has a small line of wetness down the back of it, we creep to the door, giggling like teens that have snuck off to a room mid-party. I quietly open the door and stick my head out, squinting in the light and looking left and right to make sure we didn't have an audience.

Not a person in sight.

We go back to the bed, grab our coats, and run out of Melissa's house as Savannah fires off a text to Melissa, thanking her for the party and telling her to enjoy the meatballs. We laugh the entire way to the car and close the doors, laughing so hard that Savannah doubles over. Her cheeks are red with happiness or fresh orgasm, maybe both, and I can't help but lean across the console and grip her face.

"Thanks for a fun party," I say, placing a kiss on her lips.

We kiss for a moment as the car warms up around us, and she smiles against my mouth. "Thanks for coming with me."

I sit back in my seat and pull the seat belt over me, smiling as I think about how much we're adapting around each other. I have her fucking in a coat pile while she has me wearing a seatbelt without being prompted.

"Actually, you came first. I followed."

Savannah puts the car in drive and pulls away from Melissa's house. "Funny, Wilder."