Authors: Xyla Turner
“Put me down!” she exclaimed.
“What?” I put her down.
“I forgot I have food on the stove.” She shuffled out of the room.
Closing the front door, I took off my jacket and put it on the coat rack. If only she lived here, she had a lot of coats and shoes scattered around the floor under the rack. The walls were not painted, there was wall-to-wall carpeting and the place needed to be dusted. It did not feel like a home, which meant she probably was not invested in making it one.
“Heeey, I’m in the kitchen,” She yelled from behind a door.
I turned the corner to find a living room with a large TV, a reclining red sofa and matching love seat, and a desk with two laptops and an iMac in the corner. Papers were thrown all over the place, remotes were stuck in the couch and a bra was on the back of her executive’s chair near her desk. The woman was a fuckin mess. She peeked her head out of the kitchen and said, “Since you dropped by unannounced, I’m making myself dinner. Would you like some?”
“Yeah, I can eat.”
“Do you have any allergies?”
“No.”
“Oh good,” she said and went back to the kitchen.
Following her, I entered the medium-sized kitchen to see that everything was nice and clean in here. Counters were sparkling, the floor was clean, dishes were done, and she was moving about like she knew how to cook. I could make a meal, but I did not know how to make things from scratch. Whatever she was cooking, though, made my mouth water. She turned to me, smiled and it seemed like the day melted away.
“Do you need help?” I asked.
“Not really. I’m making lasagna, which is almost done. I like mine to be crispy at the top.”
“Me too.”
She smiled again and said, “If you want, you can take out what you want to drink, along with the salad, and utensils. By then, we should be ready to go.”
I held up my hands and she pointed to the sink. After washing them, I grabbed the cups and utensils, then came back for the salad and iced tea in the refrigerator.
“You don’t have a dining room table,” I noted.
“Naw,” she waved, “it’s just me, and I eat in front of the TV or computer.”
“Hmm,” I grunted.
“Okay, I think we are good,” she said as she put on the oven mitts and retrieved the lasagna.
The food looked more than edible, it was mouthwatering. She bent back down to get the garlic bread, hidden in the back of the oven. Wow, my mind was racing to find out when was the last time I had a home cooked meal that I did not make myself. It was probably last year at Laser’s memorial. His folks made me stay and made me eat because they said it looked like I needed to be around family. They were correct, but the family I wanted to be around was no longer here. Now, looking at this woman who was simply being herself, was unraveling me, minute by minute.
“Okay, so this is your only disclaimer. I do not normally cook for people, so I cannot tell you how it tastes, but if it’s bad, do not eat it. I will not feel bad, especially since I had no idea you were coming,” she said raising an eyebrow at me.
“It smells good.”
“We’ll see.” She smiled and handed me a plate.
The lasagna looked to have a couple of different meats, and it was very cheesy. She cut herself a slice with some garlic bread, and then I cut a much bigger slice and grabbed two pieces of garlic bread. Lauren sat on the love seat in the middle, making it clear she did not want to share the space. I followed her and stood there until she huffed and moved. I swear this woman was itching for me to spank her ass.
After a couple of bites of absolute heaven, she asked, “Do you like it? Because if you don’t, you should not eat it.”
“Best thing I’ve eaten in years!” I exclaimed as she puts her head down with a huge smile, then took a bite out of the garlic bread.
“So, what brings you this way?” she broke our silent eating. “Wanted to finish what we started?”
Sipping on the lemonade, I answered her, “Among other things.”
She rose from her seat and asked if I wanted more. Shaking my head no, she took our plates to the kitchen. I grabbed the salad and our cups and followed her into the kitchen.
“Dinner was delicious.” I make a point to acknowledge.
“I’m glad you enjoyed the food,” she remarked while wiping off the counter and loading the dishwasher.
“So,” she looked up at me, “It’s pretty late, don’t you have to work tomorrow.”
“8:00 PM is not late and no, I don’t. Do you?” I asked her.
“No, I have my own blogging business and that is how I make my living.” She seemed defensive.
“Really, do you know the name of a blogger called ---?”
“And yes, I can make a living off of blogging.” She cut me off, then walked past me to leave the kitchen.
What just happened here?
“Lauren, what was that about?” I followed her into the living room, where she curled up on the long couch.
“Nothing,” she clicked on the TV. “Just nothing.”
I stood in front of her to block her view, until she looked up to me.
“Can you m -” She started.
“Stop,” I commanded, then she put her head down and stared straight ahead.
Now was the time.
I moved to sit next to her, pulled her feet out, so they were over my thighs.
“Lie across my lap on your stomach.”
Her head jerked towards me in shock. “Why?!” She exclaimed.
“Am I repeating myself?”
“Zach, look. I’m not into kinky shit. What we did the other day was great, but I don’t really know you like that to be moving at this pace of kink and lying over your lap.”
“Touché, so I’m going to request that you trust me. With that being said, another way to show that is by having a safe word.”
“Oh no, not you too. I told you -,” She went to get up, but I halted her progress, so she was now lying over my thighs, just like I wanted.
“Calm down,” I say in her ear, “I will not hurt you. I will not harm you. If you liked what we did the other day, you'd like this. In order for you to feel safe in doing that, I’m going to give you a safe word. If I do anything that is too much, you say that safe word and I immediately stop.” I rub my hand over her ass.
“Do you understand?” I ask.
She nodded her head.
“Tell me that you understand,” I whisper.
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good, your safe word is lasagna. Anything that I do that you are uncomfortable with or want me to stop, say that word and I will stop, immediately.”
“Okay.” She relaxed as I kept caressing her ass.
“Rise up, so I can pull down your clothes.” She obeyed me, so I took off her pants and panties.
“You will get seven pops on your bottom for yesterday.” She stiffened. “I took off three for today.”
I continued to rub my hand all over her ass. She was so soft and warm. Caressing her left cheek, I delivered the first slap. “Oww,” she yelped.
Rubbing the spot with my hand caused her to relax some more. Smacking the other cheek, caused her to flinch, but not yell out. She was getting the hang of it. After the third pop had resonated, I heard her moan. Her body laid out before me, at my mercy, trusting me to punish her, made me so hard. The fourth pop caused a louder moan. I lifted her shirt and palmed as much of her breast that could fit in my hand. The woman had a rack that any man would love to feast on. Twisting her nipples, I delivered the fifth smack to her other cheek.
“Ohhh,” she moaned.
“Two more. Take it like a good girl.” I crooned.
Her ass tilted higher, showing that she wanted me to spank it. My kind of woman. Swatting her for the sixth time, caused her to writhe under me. Then the last time, she outright sighed in ecstasy.
Goddamn!
“Stand up.”
She obeyed me and looked at me through hooded eyes. Yes, all the way turned on, it was written all over her. Nipples were hard, showing through the thin tee, she was rubbing her legs together to relieve the ache and her cheeks were flushed.
“You liked that, didn’t you?”
She didn’t answer, but licked her lips.
“Turn around.”
When her ass was in front of me, I moved forward, grabbed her hips and started to kiss each globe where I knew she might be sore. As I continued this with my lips, my hand reached around to play with her clit, which was soaking wet. Yeah, she liked getting spanked a lot. A moan escaped her lips as I tweaked her wet bundle of nerves. After moving her to the side, so I could stand, she remained faced away from me.
“Where is your bedroom?” I asked.
“Down the hall,” she pointed. I grabbed her hand and led us there.
I stripped off my clothes and climbed into the soft, pink, king size bed. Lying on my back, I instructed,” remove your shirt and sit on my face.”
“Zach,” she sobered a little.
“Now,” I said, leaving no room for debate.
After taking off her shirt, she climbed on the bed and tentatively, straddled my chest. Looking up at her, I knew that she was apprehensive because of her size. Her eyes avoided mine and she wouldn’t move any further.
“Look at me.” I commanded.
Slowly, she turned to look at me. “I want you on me, now Lauren. I want to taste you again. Don’t deny me that. I’ve been craving you since Sunday.”
She exhaled and crawled up, so she was directly over top of me. God, she was beautiful and tight. Latching on to her clit, I started to suck and pull on it. Her moans filled the room as she tried to hover over me. Wrapping my arms around her thighs, I pulled her down, so she was sitting on my face and proceeded to lick every inch of that sweet pussy. She eventually let go and started to ride me, so I put a finger in her tight center. Lauren loved that because she rotated on it over and over, while rubbing her clit against my tongue.
Adding another finger caused her to scream out my name. That was music to my ears. Women always screamed out my name, but coming from her just made me want to bust before she could ride me like she was riding my fingers. I held her thighs in an attempt to still her movements. Then I removed my fingers and slid down, so I could lick her tight little hole between her cheeks. She tensed, but I kept licking and caressing her thighs with my fingers. My tongue attempted to penetrate, but she was so tight and stiff, there would not be any barriers broken there. We would have to work on this.
“Lauren,” I lifted her off my face and said, “Now ride my dick.”
She smiled and moved down.
“Condoms?” She was asking where they were.
“Pants.”
Once she retrieved them, I put one on and laid back down. “Are you on birth control?”
“Yeah,” she looked at me weirdly.
“Good, we’ll need to get tested.” I slapped her ass. “Now ride.”
Moaning again, she started to gyrate around my cock before she took me all the way to the hilt. I pinched her nipple and said, “Ride.”
“Mmm,” she slammed down on me. “Yes, sir.”
Shit
!
Lauren put her forearms on both sides of my head and started rocking like her ass was on fire and there was no tomorrow. She was fucking me! Goddamn, woman. I pulled her to me and kissed her hard, as she bent lower and her ass bounced like it was on automatic. Fucking brilliant. She broke the kiss to pull up, but I brought her back down and said, “Do it again.”
This time, she put her head on my shoulder and drilled me into the sheets with her hypnotic movements. I know my slaps to her ass were punishing, but she took them and fucked me harder. Enough of this, I flipped her over, so I was on top, while her back was on the bed. “Spread those legs for me and play with your pussy, while I watch.”
She smiled and opened wide. I fed my dick into her wet channel and went on auto-pilot. She vigorously rubbed that sweet little clit and erupted all around me. She squeezed her nipples, and then screamed, “Yesss, Zaacch.”
That was my undoing. I smacked her breast, and then squeezed them for leverage as I came in her.
Goddamn, she was amazing.
My body rolled to the side so I did not crush her. We were both breathing heavily as the aftermath of yet another intense sexual encounter left us breathless.
“Bathroom.” I exhaled.
She didn’t even raise her arm all the way, just pointed towards the door. My guess was I’d find it somewhere outside of her room, in the hall. When I did, I noticed it was cute, tidy, and free of clutter, just like her kitchen. This woman was an enigma. I just couldn’t figure her out.
After crawling back in bed, I assumed she would be sleep, but she was barely conscious.
“That was good,” she drawled.
“Mmm,” I hummed.
Rubbing my hand up and down her arm was apparently putting us both to sleep.
“Are you making me breakfast in the morning?” she laughed at her joke.
“Breakfast?”
“Don’t mind me, I’m delirious.” She sleepily added.
“I can do that,” my mouth said for some apparent reason.