9. Chapter 9
Chapter nine
I 've never been turned on by someone nibbling my ears before.
Then again, there is a lot I never knew I could be turned on by. Still, Mommy Domme slowly licks my neck and then nibbles her way up my lobe, causing me to shudder in the steam of the shower.
She reaches around my torso and begins to pluck at my nipples, while Rhett's cock starts twitching inside of me. Most likely in response to his hands kneading away at my asscheeks. When he starts pumping into me, Mommy moves her fingers down to my clit and begins rubbing it hard. It only takes seconds for me to erupt. I feel like I'm a lock and these two know my combination. They never fail to hit that number just right and leave me quaking and screaming their names.
RD hands me off to JJ, who holds me against her while RD washes and rinses my hair. Fully bathed and physically exhausted, I'm wrapped in a towel and carried to the bedroom.
As exhaustion takes hold, I drift away in a warm snuggle pile with the two people I am beginning to love more than anything else in this world.
***
Something squeezes my arm tightly and wakes me up out of a nice little nap.
Just as it hits the point of bringing tears to my eyes, the feeling subsides. I wiggle a little and realize I must have been sleeping on it. Waking up from an unplanned nap in the late evening with an achy arm is not what has me feeling sad though.
Nope, that emotion is a direct reflection of the giant empty bed.
I grumble and growl while I find a comfy shirt and sweatpants. Once fully dressed, I open the bedroom door and am assaulted by the best-smelling food ever. I have no clue what it is, but it's herby and buttery and has my mouth watering. My stomach seems to agree as it lets out a loud growl that I can almost hear echoing down the tiny hall.
Following my nose, I make my way out to the living room and spot JJ. Even in her leggings and giant comfy sweater, she looks magnificent. Her long blonde hair is pulled up into a messy bun and her glasses are low on her nose. The contrast to her pristine appearance at school has me nearly giggling. I spot the red pen she twirls around in her fingers and the small frown, and decide to let her finish grading the assignment she is clearly not happy with.
When I turn and make my way to the island that serves as a divider for the kitchen space, I notice RD bopping around the space with an apron on. He spots me watching him and nearly blinds me with his sweet smile. He carries a lump of something and I crawl onto a bar stool opposite his workstation, to watch in fascination as he plops a lump of dough onto the floured surface and begins cutting it up into chunks.
A very loud alarm sound assaults my senses and has me covering my ears. For a moment, I panic that it might be some kind of fire alarm or something. The sound stops and as RD pulls a roasting pan from the oven, I realize it must have been a timer. A very loud and obnoxious timer. Not that it seemed to phase anyone else.
In my distraction, RD plopped the dough balls onto a sheet and added them to the oven where the roaster had just been.
In a flurry of plating and garnishing, brushing butter and herbs on the buns, and everything else that has me dizzy, RD completes the most delicious-looking dinner I have ever seen. Roast with carrots, tiny potatoes, crunchy green beans, and flakey dinner rolls, has officially become my new favorite meal. The first bite has me moaning and melting out of my seat.
We eat in a companionable silence and I enjoy the subtle noises that fill the room. I barely even notice the slow muted beeping of my key fob from its rice baggy in the bathroom.
Seriously, at this point, I wish that thing would just die. I didn't even know it made any noises, but I suppose it's also not meant to take a dive into dog poo or suffer a deep cleaning with a bleach and hot water bath.
Yeah, I really wish it would die. I already know I am going to have to fork out the money to get a replacement. Speaking of forks, I look down and only pout a little at the empty plate. RD smiles at me before taking all of the empty plates. I guess we all really enjoyed the meal.
"Ready for dessert?" JJ's question has excitement bubbling up. If dessert is anything at all as good as dinner, then bring it on!
I nod enthusiastically and she moves to the kitchen. Patience is not my strong suit, but I try very hard as I bounce in my seat. Millions of dessert ideas fly through my head. Everything from pastries and chocolates and even cookies. I sniff deeply but can't find any hints.
They both walk back to the dining room with naughty smiles on and it takes me a second to realize why. One of them holds two cans of whipped cream. The other holds a squeeze container of chocolate syrup.
I smile back in excitement.
It's me. I'm the fucking dessert tonight!
Good thing that drop cloth is still in the bedroom.