topgunkinkmeme | Prompt Post #1

Prompt Post #1

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

At the encouragement of Carole, they all hook up. Maverick ends up kind of imprinting on them which would be a big oops if they did not love him so much anyway.

A/N: This is getting away from me, so I'm going to just throw a new part up every time I hit the DW comment limit. Probably going to total somewhere in the area of eight parts, depending how much smut is required to effectively tell this important story.

Pete had been planning to spend the Thanksgiving weekend in Miami. He figured he'd bus down from Naval flight school in Pensacola, get a hotel room, and try his chances in any bars that happened to be open. But when Nick heard that plan, he insisted on taking Pete home, bundling him into his beater of a Chevy pickup and hauling the six hours up to Tennessee to spend the long weekend with his wife.

Pete had gone along with it. He'd probably have agreed to go along with just about anything Nick asked him to do, especially since Nick did the asking so rarely, usually content to follow along with whatever Pete had on the go. It wasn't often that Pete found someone who was not only willing to put up with his shit, but actually seemed to like him.

"You're not going to fuck this up for me," he'd muttered to his dick on the drive up.

The first thing that happened when Pete walked into the second-story apartment in Jackson, Tennessee, was being enveloped in a hug and told that while Carole didn't know him, she loved him already, just from what Nick had said in his letters.

Then Carole sat him down in a kitchen the size of a postage stamp, and fed them all meatloaf and beer, while Nick grinned at his wife with an expression so besotted it made Pete feel like he'd been kicked in the chest by a mule.

"Isn't she the best?" Nick kept saying, and Pete kept agreeing, while Carole preened and fussed over both of them.

Pete spent that full first evening feeling like he'd fallen into a slightly tarnished Norman Rockwell painting, and even having to sleep on the couch didn't have a spare bed didn't do a thing to dispel that.

Around midnight, Pete woke to the sounds of Nick and Carole attempting to covertly make love, which started as giggles and shushing each other, and then turned into soft moans that carried through the thin walls like they weren't even there.

Pete lay on his back staring at the ceiling, his dick tenting his shorts. He clenched his hands and tried not to hear, but it was too easy to imagine that he was the one sliding into Carole's pussy, her breasts pressing against his chest, or that it was Pete lying face down with his ass shoved up so that Nick could enter him from behind, none of them able to contain their moans because of how perfect it felt. Even before he heard Carole gasp, and Nick's breath catch, and both of them fall quiet, Pete had come in his shorts.

He lay in his own mess, hoping that Nick and Carole had been too engaged to hear his soft cry, and feeling like a total pervert. Nick hadn't seen his wife in two months, of course he wanted to have sex with her, and they had waited for hours until Pete being asleep was a pretty safe bet, then done their best to be quiet, but here Pete was not only listening in on them, but getting off on it.

Pete waited until Nick had gotten up to use the head, then gave it another twenty minutes and went to clean himself up. He leaned on the counter, put his face right up to the mirror, and hissed, "Stop fucking up!" at his own reflection.

The following morning, he slept in for the first time in months, lying in a half-doze on the couch while Nick and Carole negotiated the cramped space, and used every excuse to bump up against each other and shamelessly flirt. It was nice to just drift and imagine being part of that kind of life.

Carole made coffee, and Nick made pancakes, and Pete ate everything put in front of him, and couldn't stop smiling.

"Just you wait until you try my sweet potato pie," Carole promised, and Pete thought about how this was the first Thanksgiving he was actually going to be thankful for since his dad had disappeared.

Nick never shut up about his wife, but even with that kind of build up, Pete hadn't imagined she'd be all that and more. He'd never wanted two people this urgently, not both at the same time. It would have been easier if they hadn't kept touching him: nothing with any intention behind it, just a hand on the shoulder or wrist, a playful bat to the chest, hips brushing as they negotiated the narrow hall. It was more than any red-blooded man should be expected to take, and Pete found himself trapped in a constant state of flushed, semi arousal that he hoped might be blamed on the warmth generated by three people packed into a small apartment.

By lunch time, Pete was actually glad Carole went out shopping for some last-minute groceries, while Nick attempted to turn the leftover meatloaf into sandwich filling. Pete sat at the kitchen table, watching the way Nick's white under shirt clung to his back, and trying not to think about what it might taste like to lick the back of his neck.

Pete looked away. He'd been doing so well at not having those thoughts about Nick, at least not more than he had them about everyone. He needed to get through the next three days and not sink the closest friendship he'd ever had by being a total fucking horn dog.

Nick plunked two plates of meatloaf sandwiches down on the table, and grinned at Pete. "So what do you think about Carole? Is she great, or is she great?"

"She's great," Pete agreed, though from the slight furrow in Nick's brow it had not been said with enough enthusiasm. "How did a dog like you talk a girl like that into tying the knot?"

"No idea," Nick said, "but I thank God every day. But you like her, right?"

Pete had taken a bite of his sandwich, which wasn't as weird as he'd thought it was going to be, and had the excuse just to nod.

"I keep telling her she's the sexiest thing this side of the Appalachians," Nick continued, actually seeing his wife doing nothing to dim his need to talk about her constantly. "She says that's not true, but I'm going to convince her eventually. You think she's sexy, don't you?"

"Uh." Pete had just swallowed, which saved him from choking, but now he had to come up with an answer that neither insulted Carole, nor implied that he had any sexual interest in her whatsoever. "Uh, yeah. She's, uh, she's great. Carole's great. You're really lucky." If Pete was lucky, this conversation from hell would end soon, but his mind had gone completely blank as to any alternative topics. Surely someone, somewhere must be playing some kind of sports?

Nick made a satisfied hum, like he did when he laid down four of a kind to take out Pete's full house. "See, I knew you were looking at her!"

Pete's body slammed into high alert. Christ, Nick had noticed Pete looking. Of course he'd noticed. No matter how hard he tried, Pete had never been any good at hiding how he felt. He'd known that he was going to find some way to fuck this up, but he hadn't expected to explode this badly this fast. Nick working out what he thought of Carole had to be the worst possible outcome, save possibly Nick noticing that Pete was looking at him like that too. Nick had sounded amiable enough right now, but Pete had seen otherwise even-tempered men lose their minds when it came to their girls, let alone the other thing.

"Absolutely not!" Pete blurted, and scrambled to find a way to convince Nick of his honourable intentions, not in any way helped by all the lustful thoughts he'd been having over the past sixteen hours. He glanced at his ruck, in case he had to bolt, but it's contents were scattered across the couch. He could grab his jacket on the way out the door, at least, and that had his wallet in the pocket. He half rose, still insisting, "Jesus, Nick, I would never. I swear I would never ever. I wouldn't do that to you. Please, you gotta believe me."

"Hey, easy, Pete. Hold your horses." Nick reached across the table, and Pete had to stop himself from jerking his hand away, but Nick just rested his hand on Pete's wrist. "I've got no problem with you looking, and Carole doesn't either. Settle down."

"I wouldn't," Pete said again, but sat back in the chair. Nick's hand was warm and steady on his wrist. "You're my best friend. I wouldn't."

"I know you wouldn't." Nick was stroking his thumb up and down Pete's wrist now, and his voice had a cooing tone to it. "I know you wouldn't, buddy. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rattle you like that."

Pete nodded, his heart slowing down. His thoughts were still racing, running back over the situation, what Nick had said. "What did you mean about not minding?" Pete asked, because apparently he couldn't just leave it all be and be grateful Nick hadn't thrown him out on his ear.

"I guess I went about that the wrong way," Nick said. He curled his hand so it was wrapped around Pete's wrist like a cuff, squeezed lightly, then let go. "You ever hear about swingers, Pete?"

"Is that like when everyone puts their dog tags in a bowl, and their girls..." Pete trailed off. From Nick's expression, he had missed the bullseye by some distance.

"Not quite like that," Nick said. He took a bit of his sandwich and thought it over. "I'm not home eighty, ninety percent of the time," he said.

"Sure," Pete agreed. "None of us are." Not that he had a home, strictly speaking, but it'd been like that for his dad, especially during the war.

"And Carole, she's a very affectionate woman, needs a lot of loving." Nick paused, like that was going to mean something one way or another.

"I guess she must get lonely, huh?" Pete guessed. "She sure was happy to see you yesterday."

"Right," Nick said, drawing out the word, then his gaze went a bit distant as he seemed to remember Carole greeting him at the door by jumping up to wrap her legs around his waist, her dress riding up her thighs. Nick had definitely grabbed her ass, and it hadn't just been to help hold her up. That kiss had lasted for a long time. "Anyway, she hates being lonely, and so do I, so we made a deal: so long as she's here when I get back, and I always come back every chance I get, we can keep the company we like."

"Oh. Oh!" Understanding dawned. Pete'd heard of guys with that kind of marriage, but he hadn't considered that it applied to the wives, as well. Maybe he should have: he'd certainly slept with enough few officer's wives. "I've never seen you messing around," Pete said, though now that he'd thought of it, there'd been a couple nights when Nick had said he was turning in, then hadn't been in their billet when Pete had struck out and gotten in early.

"I try to be discreet." Nick held up his left hand to wiggle his ring finger.

"Well, uh, good job?" Pete still wasn't entirely clear where this was going, but he supposed it was nice that Nick trusted him with a secret like that. "You had me fooled, buddy."

"Right, so," Nick said, picking up speed again, "normally when I am back, it's just me and Carole, making love like bunny rabbits, all day and all night, but when Carole saw you come in, she put her lips right up to my ear and told me, 'I want that one.' I've never been one to tell her no, and you did seem like you were looking, so..."

Nick spread his hands. Pete stared at him, open mouthed. He glanced at the door, half expecting the host of Candid Camera to burst in. "You want me to— I mean your wife to— you want me and your wife to cheat on you?"

"It wouldn't be cheating if I knew about it and didn't mind," Nick said, which Pete supposed made sense, but still. "Look, Pete, you don't have to if you're not interested. It's not like I brought you up here just so Carole could sex you up."

That was something of a relief, as Pete had been starting to wonder. It wasn't as though he'd turned down sexy weekend getaways before, but he'd thought this was something different, something that meant more than just fucking around. He didn't want a lady like Carole to be another one of his hook ups, didn't want her to give him a fake number when he headed out in the morning with a, "thanks for a good time," tossed over his shoulder. This was Nick's wife, and she deserved to be treated right.

Pete thought of the sound she'd made as she'd come with Nick inside her. It looked like it could be him drawing that moan out of her. It could be his cock inside her as she laughed and told him he had to be quiet. She was so beautiful, and she genuinely seemed to like him, and she'd told Nick she wanted him. How could he turn down a woman like that?

"I might have been looking a little bit," Pete admitted carefully.

Nick grinned and clapped his hands together. "See! There we are!"

Pete smiled back. He still couldn't quite believe this was happening, but if it was, he wanted to see how far he could take it. "So uh..." he paused. "Do I just, I mean, when she comes in, do I ask her, or..."

Was Nick going to be there in the apartment listening to Carole and Pete, like Pete had listened to the two of them? Did Nick want to watch? Pete certainly wouldn't say no to anything that he wanted to do, up to and including fucking Pete against the kitchen counter that very minute.

"Knowing her, she'll ask you," Nick said, shrugging. "I'm going to head out when she gets back, got some college buddies to catch up with."

"Oh, alright," Pete said, and attempted to stuff down his disappointment. Of course now that he had one of them, or had a chance at one of them, his fucked up ego thought he should be able to have both of them. This despite Nick never having shown the least sign of being anything other than one-hundred-precent heterosexual. Pete looked across at Nick contentedly eating his sandwich, a breadcrumb clinging to his moustache, and told himself he was lucky to have a friend like that, and he shouldn't mess it up by wanting to fall to his knees, crawl under the kitchen table and wrap his lips around Nick's cock. The problem with Pete, pretty much everyone from his mother to his first girlfriend to his current flight instructor had told him, was that he could never have enough.

Nick noticed Pete staring, and asked, "Everything okay?"

"Outstanding," Pete said automatically, but then had to ask, "You're sure you don't mind? She's your wife, man."

"I did not expect it would take this long to talk Pete Mitchell of all people into having sex with a beautiful woman," Nick observed.

Words formed up to the effect that Nick's friendship mattered to Pete more than all the sex and all the beautiful woman in the world, but what came out was, "I need us to be okay."

"We'll always be okay, buddy," Nick promised and patted Pete's hand.

"Alright," Pete said, and told himself that had to be enough.

Nick shrugged. "I like making her happy," he said, like it was that simple. "Some men bring their wives flowers or diamonds. I don't have that kind of money, so I bring Carole good looking student pilots. It works for us."

"More than one student pilot?" Pete demanded, despite himself. It distracted him from Nick having just complimented his looks.

"Only one so far," Nick admitted. He pushed the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth, and picked up the plate. "You going to finish that?"

Pete nodded. He'd taken a single bite, before his stomach started doing flips, from which it had yet to settle down, but he should eat.

Nick patted his shoulder on the way back to the couch to turn on the game, his fingertips lingering on the bare skin above Pete's collar. "Good man."

Hunching his shoulders and taking a huge bite of the sandwich probably hid Pete's blush.

"You are absolutely going to fuck this up, aren't you?" Pete muttered to his dick, which of course was still as hard as a rock.

Omg, yesssss, I'm in love with this!

Thank you!

Omg this is so good!! I can’t wait to see how Carole goes about seducing him

Thanks <3 Glad you're enjoying it!

Loving this so far!!

<3 <3 <3

This is everything I wanted it to be and more. Poor, poor Mav. You are so utterly hopeless, dude. I love how chill Goose is, I can see that for him. He'd be the glue holding everything together.

Looking very forward to the next part!

Poor Mav is the pizza delivery boy, and the camera has just gone into soft focus before the music kicks up a beat. He'll be okay.

I wholeheartedly adore Goose. He's just such a sweetie.

Glad you're enjoying it.

I adore this. The characterization is so good and I love Mav desperately trying not to ruin things between them and Goose and Carole trying to seduce him.

Mav's in a perpetual state of panic about the number of plates he has in the air crashing down and crushing him ~~just like his father~~. Goose and Carole, however, are having a good time.

This got a little long, so double-comment length update! Party time! (Part 3 posted as soon as I vaguely try to fix my spag, for which I vaguely apologise.) Also, has anyone else noticed that Mav is REALLY fun to pick on? I've noticed that.

Pete had just finished the sandwich when Carole bustled in with her arms full of groceries, and Nick almost ran her over taking them from her before she had a chance to even shut the door.

"I carry my own shopping all the time, darling," she protested, but let him have the bags. She was in jeans and one of Nick's varsity sweaters, which was so big it fell off her left shoulder, revealing the strap of her baby pink bra, details which Pete had made himself ignore when she'd gone out, but which were vitally important now. Carole glanced at him and said, "I can tell by the way Pete's gawping at me that you asked him."

"You bet I did," Nick told her, setting the bags on the counter, and starting to put away the contents, calling across the apartment like this was a normal, everyday conversation. "Took a while to talk him around, but I think I've got him onboard."

"I'm right here," Pete grumbled. He'd never imagined that Nick Bradshaw could make him blush, and certainly not twice in the space of an hour.

"Of course you are." Carole walked over and draped her arms around Pete's shoulders pressing her cheek against his. She smelled sweet and a little sharp, like oranges, but not, and Pete's heart immediately started hammering.

He glanced at Nick who was still putting away groceries, and had to have seen all this, but wasn't reacting to the way Carole was nuzzling Pete's ear. Pete tentatively reached up and put his hand over hers where it curled around his shoulder.

"That's right," she said, and kissed the back of it. "You've got such nice hands; I've got all kinds of places I want you to put them."

"Don't let her steamroll you, Pete," Nick said when Pete looked at him with wide eyes.

"Aw, he loves it," Carole said, but straightened and went over to the cupboards. "I don't keep the rice up there anymore, honey. It's too high for me to get down without the step."

The rice negotiation involved a lot more hands on each other than on the rice, but eventually they got everything stowed away, ending with Nick lightly slapping Carole's ass, and Carole standing on her toes and nipping his earlobe.

Throughout all this, Pete stayed frozen at the kitchen table, legs slightly apart to accommodate the hard on that would not go down, no matter how sternly he told it to fuck off. It'd been bad enough when both the Bradshaws had been firmly off limits, but now that he could be with one of them, his body was demanding sex, and it was demanding it now.

Nick headed for the door, picking up his coat on the way by.

"You heading out to see Bill Taylor?" Carole asked, still rearranging the groceries Nick had just put away. "Well, tell him I said hey."

"Roger, wilco," Nick said, and got in a, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, kids," before the door shut behind him. It sounded like a compartment hatch coming down as the water rose.

Pete thought that Carole would be all over him as soon as Nick was gone, but instead she sat across the table from him, in the same place Nick had been before, and took his hands in hers. "You okay, Pete?" she asked, bending down a little to catch his eye.

"Of course," he said, and tried for the Pete Mitchell I'm-the-best-there-is cocky grin. From Carole's doubtful expression, he hadn't quite hit the mark. "This is not how I was expecting today to go," he admitted.

Carole squeezed his hands. "Good surprise, or bad surprise?"

Pete thought that was going to depend on how badly he fucked up the next hour, but said, "All good," and did better with the smile this time.

"Glad to hear it," Carole said, and giggled when he drew her hands up and kissed the backs of her knuckles. "You're such a sweetheart. Nick, he writes about you all the time, says you're all kinds of trouble, always have one of the officers after you for some darn thing or other, won't listen to the rules, think you know better than everyone."

Nick was at least half as bad, or he had been when they'd been in the pre-flight classes together. Pete wondered if Carole knew that. She probably did; Nick didn't seem like he kept much, if anything, from her. "I like to see for myself," he said. "A lot of times the stuff 'everyone knows' isn't true, if you're good enough to get past it."

"See, and that's how I knew I liked you," Carole said. "What's the fun in doing what everyone else is doing?"

"Yeah!" Pete said, and he didn't have to force a smile this time. "Yeah, exactly."

"So are you going to take me to bed, or what?" She drew her hands away, which was disappointing until she pulled her shirt off and tossed it over the back of the empty chair. The pink bra was mostly lace, and offered very little coverage; her left nipple peaked through one of the gaps, dark against her peaches and cream skin. "You're catching flies," Carole said, and Pete closed his mouth. "Oh come on, say something, a girl likes to hear a little something when she takes her shirt off."

"Wow?" Pete tried. His cock was pressing against the inside of his jeans so hard it hurt, and he couldn't think clearly through the haze of want. Carole looked like something out of a dirty movie, no, something out of a dream: gauzy and perfect and unreal, but somehow sitting across a wobbly kitchen table in a rat trap apartment. "I know Nick tells you how beautiful you are every other minute, but that's not enough times."

"That'll do," Carole said, and stood to start unbuttoning her jeans. "So do you want to just put me on the counter and do the deed here, or take me to bed, or what? I don't think that old couch is up to much."

"Bed, definitely," Pete said, getting up as well. His dick rubbed against his jeans, and it was all he could do not to touch himself. She was in her sock feet and panties already, and he hadn't taken a thing off. "But first..." He held out his hand, and she came around the table, and put her arms around his neck. She smelled just as sweet now, sweeter with a little edge of musk and perspiration making Pete's mouth water. He leaned in most of the way, and her lips met his.

She was a little taller than him, but without her heeled boots, it didn't make much difference. Pete leaned into the kiss, waiting until she parted her lips before deepening it. She liked going slow. She liked it when he slid his hands down her back and squeezed her ass. Carole was making all the little hums of approval and muffled moans that Pete had heard the night before, like this was every dirty thought he'd been trying not to have about her, come to life and running her hands through his hair.

Carole hooked a leg around his hips, dragging their bodies closer and rubbing her inner thigh against his jeans. Pete came with a desperate whine, jerking forward against her as he squeezed her ass to grind their bodies together. He was moving entirely out of hazy red need, and even the pleasure-pain of coming inside his jeans felt like the best thing that had ever happened to him. She kept kissing him as he rubbed against her and whimpered.

She was still kissing Pete when his brain switched back on again, and he realised what the fuck he'd just done. He pulled away, but didn't get very far because she still had three out of four limbs wrapped around him. It was far enough to try to see her face and figure out exactly how pissed off she was. "Oh, fuck. I mean shit. I mean... I am so sorry. I don't... that never happens." That last part wasn't entirely true, but it had been a while. It didn't usually happen.

"Oh, that. I don't mind." Carole leaned in and kissed the tip of Pete's nose. "You just got excited, that's all. I bet you've just been horny as heck this whole time you've been here."

"Yeah," Pete admitted. He was almost glad his face was flushed from sex, so that she couldn't see how completely humiliated he felt. He put his hands on her shoulders, which seemed like a better choice than her ass, and said, "I want you so much. I wanted to make it good for you. I'm usually good at this." Sex and flying were the two things he reliably didn't fuck up; the relationships surrounding them, however, didn't always work out as well.

"I'm sure you are, as many women as Nick says as you have," Carole assured him. She still hadn't let go, was still punctuating her words by laying kisses over his face. "In fact, I'm so sure, I'm going to just go wild and give you another chance to show me." When he didn't immediately answer, she pulled back and frowned at him. "If that's okay."

Not trusting his voice, Pete nodded.

"Okay," Carole said, and hopped down. "How about you go wash up, and I'll meet you in the bedroom?"

Pete cleared his throat, shoved down another apology, and said, "Okay," in a voice that mostly sounded like it came from a grown man.

Carole smiled at him, and took his left hand from her shoulder and kissed the palm. "Just so you know, this is how I was feeling about what you'd been doing so far." She put his hand between her legs, and pressed his fingers against her pussy. She was already so wet that she'd soaked through her panties, and standing with her legs apart made the scent of her arousal fill the tiny kitchen. She held his hand there for a moment, then pulled it back up to his mouth, and licked herself off his fingers, her teeth scraping past the pads of his fingertips, then sucking back down again. The resulting slurping sound blew the last functioning circuit in Pete's brain. "Don't take too long," Carole said, and stepped away.

"Okay," Pete said again, thinking of Nick's warning about not letting her steamroll him, and the cartoon of Wile E. Coyote squashed perfectly flat onto the pavement.

"Get it together, Mitchell!" he hissed at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He stripped, turned the shower on cold, and quickly washed himself off, before realising the guest towel Carole had given him was still folded on the back of the couch.

He eyed the pink and green towels on the rack, bending to press his nose to them. The pink one smelled like that not-orange stuff Carole wore and maybe some kind of flower. The green one was damp from being used that morning and smelled like Nick's aftershave. Pete pulled up a handful of it so he could press his face into it and imagine, just for a moment, that he was in the shower with Nick, burying his face in his hair, against his belly, between his legs. Pete dropped the towel, and dried off with his own t-shirt.

"Why can't you ever have enough?" he whispered to his reflection. He had a stunning woman lying on her bed in the next room, wet and ready for him, and here he was thinking about her husband, who he could never have as anything other than a friend, who he shouldn't want as anything other than a friend. He wondered how long it would take Nick and Carole to figure out that the bottomless pit of need that drove Pete's ambition would eventually ruin everything around him.

"Okay. Here we go," he said, and took a breath, before going into the bedroom.

This is so hot and good. And Pete's delicious pining for Nick right at the end tops this chapter off so well.

Continuing to read :)

~Angel

Carole had taken off both her underwear and the covers of the bed, and was lying on her stomach with her feet kicking in the air. Pete's eyes traced the lines of her, from the rise of her breasts where they pressed between her body and the mattress, to the curve of her spine, and the way her hips flared out into a gloriously round ass, then narrowed again to her thighs, slightly parted, and showing just enough between them that Pete whimpered with need. His dick wasn't coming back online yet, but he could feel his body urging it forward.

"Like what you see?" Carole asked. She was looking him up and down as hungrily as he was ogling her.

"Yeah," Pete said, and moved towards the bed. "Yeah, I like it a lot."

"Glad to hear it," Carole said. "I like what I see, too. Nick said you were hot stuff, but he didn't cover half of it." She rolled over and flipped herself around so that she was lying with her head on the pillow and her hands folded behind her neck, showing Pete anything he might have missed before. The insides of her thigh were slippery, and the hair between her legs was dark and wet.

Pete crawled onto the bed, and hovered above her, their bodies not yet touching. Every time she took a breath, her breasts rose up towards him, and the only reason he could tear his eyes away from them was there was so much else to look at. He wanted to put his mouth on every part of her. He had no idea where to start. "What do you want me to do?" Pete asked.

"How about you show me where you like to be touched," she said. She put her arms around his neck, but instead of pulling him down on top of her, she twisted her body to knock him onto his side, then rolled over so that she lay next to him while he was flat on his back, looking up at the grungy stucco ceiling.

"I..." Pete hesitated. Of course he liked to be touched—who didn't?—but he'd never been all that particular as to where. He'd always felt that most of the pleasure of sex, other than that it was sex and therefore amazing, was that he could prove to someone else how good he could make them feel. There was a rush to that that was almost as good as flying.

"Oh, well, never mind, I'll work it out," Carole said when his silence had drawn on too long for her liking. She kissed his mouth briefly, then started to nuzzle behind his ear, which did feel pretty good, while her hands ran over his chest, leaving Pete with the feeling that he was being charted. He moaned softly when her hand found the cleft of his hip, which he really did like, and he could feel the curve of her smile as she kissed her way down his neck. She dragged both her thumbs down the same place, one on either side, and Pete gasped and lifted his hips in response. He felt a jolt of pleasure in his cock, not quite hardening, but showing an interest again. "Well there's one," she said, and then found another when she squeezed the back of his neck, and another as her tongue traced the inside of his wrist. "Here, roll over, need to look at the other side," Carole said, backing off to give him room.

"I thought you wanted my hands all over you," Pete said, though somewhat hazily. He should be doing more for her, he was pretty sure, but that would involve her not touching him as much.

"We're going to do that, too," Carole promised.

He rolled over, and let her straddle his thighs as she worked her hands down his back. It was a massage as much as an exploration, and Pete melted into the lumpy mattress. Every time Carole leaned forward, her inner thighs slid over his ass, and he could feel how wet she was. The movement also made his dick rub against the ground sheet, which was doing a lot to bring it back to life. When she scooted down his legs and started to dig her thumbs into the muscles of his ass, Pete cried out softly, muffling his voice in the pillow.

"There's another one," Carole said. Her fingers curved in like she was going to slide them between his asscheeks, but she stopped just short of it when Pete's breath hitched and he couldn't tell if the sound he made was a protest or an encouragement. Carole pulled her hands back and kept going down his legs, all the way to his feet, before letting him roll over again.

He was half hard by then, and she was crouching over his knees, her face inches from his cock.

"You don't have to do that," Pete started to say as she bent towards him, but she ignored him and started to nuzzle and lick and do all kinds of things that made him cover his face with his arm so that he could scream into the crock of his elbow. She brought tears to his eyes by licking down his balls and pressing her tongue to the soft place behind him. He kept trying to rise up to meet her, but she had a hand on each hip, and kept him pinned down. His knees were almost up to his ears, trying to make more space for her to do what she wanted, and she kept using every inch of it. When a drop of spit slid down over his asshole, Pete cried out so loudly that she came up for air and shushed him.

"Guess that's enough of that," Carole said, and Pete slumped into the bed. "Now let's see, is there any which way you want to go next?"

Pete lowered his arm to look up at her kneeling over her. He definitely wanted to just lie here like a puddle and let her ride him, but that hardly seemed fair after all the work she'd been putting in. Her skin glowed with a sheen of sweat, and her hair had started to stick to her forehead, or maybe it was sticking to the come smeared on her cheek from where she'd rubbed it over the tip of his dick. Pete reached up and brushed her hair away from it with the backs of his knuckles.

"Old fashioned way?" he asked.

"Works for me." Carole rolled off the bed and fished a condom package out of the drawer. She ripped it open and pinned his hip down with one hand while she rolled it onto him. It was Pete's size, which, having not-so-casually looked while they were in the shower, he knew wasn't Nick's size. For a fleeting moment, he wondered how many other men she'd had in this bed. Then Pete pushed the thought away. If Carole had any kind of standards, he probably wouldn't be here either, so he could hardly worry about others. Besides, Carole and Nick had been making love in this exact spot twelve hours before, and Pete had been aching to be here then.

Pete rolled over on top of Carole, kneeling between her open legs, and bent to kiss her again. He could taste a trace of his own come on her lips, which was enough to make him push his tongue into her mouth and sweep along the edge of her teeth.

Carole moaned, and hooked both legs around his hips, crossing her heels behind Pete's ass. The condom blunted the feel of his dick rubbing over the entrance to her pussy, but not enough that he didn't want to just slide into her and be done with it. He made himself think of the humiliation of having come in his jeans before she'd put a hand on him, and that was enough to hold him back. He slid the hand that wasn't buried in her damp hair down between her legs, pushing two fingers into her, while he rolled his thumb over her clit.

Carole gasped and tightened her legs around him, trying to pull Pete down inside her. Breaking the kiss, she buried her face in his neck, and cried out every time he moved his thumb. He heard his name, and "please," and "now," but Pete didn't stop until she was writhing under him, her chest heaving and pushing her breasts into him. Carole cried out again, but more softly, a sound of release this time, but when he slowed his hand down and stopped pumping his fingers in and out of her, she hissed, "No, no, no, don't stop."

It was her short nails raking over his back that finally stripped away the last of Pete's control, Blood drumming through his ears, he shifted until his cock lined up with her, and pulled his fingers free, trying to take her hip to steady her, though his hand was too slick to get any purchase. As soon as he put the tip of his dick in her pussy, she rocked her body up against his and drove herself onto him.

"Jesus Christ," Pete muttered, and tried to hold onto his control long enough to set up some kind of rhythm that wasn't just them writhing together on the mattress. "Here, let me," he said, and she seemed to understand and relaxed to let him control the pace. Pete watched her face to make sure she was enjoying this, and saw parted lips red from being kissed, flushed cheeks and sky blue eyes turned dark. There was only desire there, and all of it aimed at him. He started to thrust into her, and she ran her nails lightly up and down his back to keep time. With every thrust she got a little lower, until Carole was cupping his ass at the bottom of each stroke, just when Pete was at his deepest inside her. Their skin slapped together, slick with sweat, and the room felt close and hot as the world closed in to just the slide of Pete's cock in her pussy, and the puff of her breath against his ear as she cried out in pleasure.

Carole reached between the cheeks of his ass, and touched her fingertip to his hole, the contact so unexpected that Pete jerked his hips forward, sliding in so deep that she wrapped her legs around him again.

"You like that?" Carole whispered, but Pete couldn't say anything, couldn't even nod. She pushed until her fingertip slid into him, and Pete came in a rush, the world flashing white as he released inside her. "Yeah, you like that," Carole said, with the same satisfaction as had been in Nick's tone when Pete admitted that he'd been looking.

Pete rolled off of her, keeping hold of the condom and flopping onto his back. Carole followed so that she could curl up next to him with her head on his chest. He stroked her back, and idly wished he had the energy to go get the blankets as their skin started to cool.

"I think that was worth the wait," Carole said after a while.

"Yeah," Pete agreed, then frowned. "What was that at the end there?"

"At your end, you mean?" she asked, then giggled. Of course she liked puns. She was married to Nick. "Testing a theory. You did like it though, didn't you?"

"I guess," Pete admitted. He could hardly deny that he'd liked it when just the tip of her finger inside him had made him come so hard he was still seeing stars. "What was the theory?"

"I'll tell you in a minute." Carole sat up and wiped between her legs with a handful of tissues, then got rid of the condom, and did the same for Pete. When she had the blankets pulled up over both of them, and had resumed her position with her head on his shoulder and one leg thrown across his thighs, she said, "Now if I tell you my theory, you can't get mad."

Pete wrapped his arm around Carole's waist and pulled her close against him. "I couldn't ever be mad at you, I promise."

"If you say so," Carole said, but still hesitated before saying, "It comes in two parts. The first part of my theory is that you like being touched down there, in fact you like it a lot."

"Well I guess you proved that one," Pete said, but he couldn't help the curdling feeling starting to pool in his gut. "Not a lot of girls like to do that kind of thing." In fact, the number was damn near close to zero, in Pete's experience. Though he supposed he didn't usually give them a chance to try it. It always felt like it'd lead to questions he couldn't answer.

"I'm not a lot of girls," Carole said smugly.

"No, you sure aren't." Pete leaned over and kissed her hair, which was still damp with sweat. "So what's part two?"

Carole sucked her teeth and considered for a moment. "Part two is that you want Nick to be the one touching you right there, or touching you just about anywhere, I suppose."

"I..." The weight of Carole lying across him had felt comforting and familiar, but now it pinned Pete to the bed, trapped him in place. He froze, suddenly unable to breathe.

"I don't mind," Carole assured him, kissing Pete's cheek. "Really. I saw you looking at him this morning, and thought it was just so sweet that you had a crush on both of us. That hardly ever happens."

Pete really, really wanted off this roller coaster of a day, but it didn't seem to be coming to a stop any time soon. There were a couple important points he needed to get across right away, however. "Carole, you know that just talking about that can get a guy kicked out of the Navy?"

She huffed. "Of course I know that. It's not like I'm not going around blabbing about it!"

"I'm serious!" Pete pushed her off him and sat up.

"So am I," Carole said, looking up at him. The blankets had fallen away, and the view of the slope of her shoulder, her collar bone, the hollow of her throat leading his gaze down to her breasts wasn't helping Pete when it came to thinking straight. "I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt you, Pete."

Pete shook his head, unable to describe just how much a dishonourable discharge would hurt him. It was hard enough being Duke Mitchell's son in this branch of the service. "It's just... Carole, the Navy is all I've got, you know?"

If she had wanted to hurt him, she'd throw his words about rules being for other people right back in his face, but instead she put her hand on his knee and said, "I know." Her tone was sad all of a sudden, and he tried not to resent her pity for the poor little orphan with only the sky to love.

Pete took a breath and waited until he thought his heart was back to its normal rate, then exhaled. "Okay," he said, but didn't lie down again.

Carole budged over until her head was resting on his hip and wrapped one arm around his thigh and the other around the small of his back in a strange sort of embrace. It put her face pretty close to his dick, but the move felt like a different kind of intimacy, one that Pete wasn't terribly used to. "So what about part two of my theory?" she asked.

It seemed like she'd pretty well worked it all out, and just wanted him to be honest with her. Pete sighed, and admitted, "I've gone with other guys. Sometimes. When I could be sure it wouldn't follow me back to base."

Carole hummed in satisfaction. "What about Nick? You ever 'gone' with him?"

"You think he wouldn't have told you?" Only after he'd asked that did Pete realise the implications of her question, the possibilities that it opened up.

"He might not have," Carole said. "He doesn't always tell me about it when it's with a guy. He says the fewer people who know any details, the better."

"Huh." So Nick Bradshaw did swing the same way as Pete. He really never would have guessed, but then, they were all so careful, all so paranoid about their careers. "No," he said, "I've never slept with Nick."

"Well," Carole asked, lifting her head, "Would you like to change that?"

A/N: Next! Nick Bradshaw's point of view!

this is FANTASTIC!!
I already loved Carole but you're upping the ante!!

Oh, good. Thank you. I hadn't got any response to this part, so I assume it'd missed, and wandered off to write something else.

jeeze no, please write more?

Oh please write more!

Very much still interested in this fill! Especially with Goose's perspective coming up!

Re: Fill: "Home for Thanksgiving", Goose/Carole/Maverick, Explicit, 3/?

(Anonymous) - 2022-08-08 20:23 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill: "Home for Thanksgiving", Goose/Carole/Maverick, Explicit, 3/?

(Anonymous) - 2022-08-08 20:44 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill: "Home for Thanksgiving", Goose/Carole/Maverick, Explicit, 3/?

(Anonymous) - 2022-08-08 20:53 (UTC) - Expand

Ahh, I adore this so much. I love Carole, she's so wily and knows exactly when to poise a question to get the answer she wants. And Pete is just an adorable blessing of a man. You can really feel the blossoming affection between them in the quiet post-orgasm moment.

And the sex was so hot.

Looking forward to Goose's POV :)

~Angel

I hope you're still around, wonderful author! I keep checking back to see if you've added more, I love this WIP so much. Hope you're doing alright. <3

ayrt

Hey, sorry, got totally sidetracked. I do still plan to finish this. I just am a flake, also Goose's PoV section turned out to be difficult. Thank you for the follow up comment <3 <3 <3

ayrt

Absolutely no pressure, and no need to apologise. I just wanted you to know that I love this fic and I'd be thrilled if you updated!

Oh this is wonderful. Pete's pining for both Carole and Nick (which have they not got their callsigns yet?) is just so good.

Also the fact that Carole has noticed Pete and wants him and Nick's prepared to let her (because he wants Pete too? He's definitely leaving lingering touches where he can get away with it)

I also Pete's continuing running commentary at his own dick. Poor boy.

Continuing to read :)

~Angel

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Prompt Post #1

Goose/Carole/Maverick - First Time

Fill: "Home for Thanksgiving", Goose/Carole/Maverick, Explicit, 1/?

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Fill: "Home for Thanksgiving", Goose/Carole/Maverick, Explicit, 2/?

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Fill: "Home for Thanksgiving", Goose/Carole/Maverick, Explicit, 3/?

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