Jennifer's Eggnog by Jake Malden Page A

conversation where it had all come to light still resonated
in Jennifer’s mind. “We’re sleepingtogether,” 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.
Her 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