Kitchen

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Creampie

“…again, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with karaoke, I’m just surprised that that’s what Mallory wanted to do to celebrate her transition from single to married,” I said as I pushed open the front door and punched the alarm code into the keypad on the wall, “I mean, she goes to karaoke every week. Why not try something new?”

“No, I’m with you. I don’t know, maybe she was afraid to get too wild because her future mother-in-law was there, but yeah, if it were me–strippers, cake, champagne, bring some, I don’t know, Cirque du Soleil performers or something, let’s get crazy!” she replied.

“Exactly. Go all out,” I laughed.

I closed the door, placed my keys and bag on the entranceway table, and kicked off my heels. As she stumbled slightly undoing her shoe from her fishnet-clad leg I couldn’t help but notice a flash of a red bra in her cleavage. I looked away and shook my head slightly.

“Oooh…yep, I’m not ready to drive home yet,” she remarked as she leaned on the wall.

“You can crash here if you want,” I assured her as she dropped her shoe on the floor, “I’ve got pajamas that would fit you, or we can hydrate and get some coffee in you and you could sober up and leave, it’s up to you.”

“I just–ugh. I’m not too too bad, but oh wow…when Carrie started singing True Colors, I was just like: ‘I need more alcohol. More.'” She dropped her second shoe and let her purse slide from her shoulder onto the floor.

“Well, she was…uhhh… passionate about it at least. Come on Stumbellina, let’s get you some water,” I held out my hand.

“Why am I drunk and you’re not?” she asked, taking my hand.

“Because I’m a control freak and you’re not,” I answered, leading her into my kitchen.

She leaned against the counter as I got two glasses from a cabinet and the filtered water pitcher from the fridge.

“You kinda are, aren’t you?” she mused, looking around. “Look at this place! Everything is so neat and organized– no dirty dishes in the sink, no crumbs, your stovetop is shining, and…I’ll bet I could eat off this floor.”

I handed her a glass of water.

“I don’t know about that,” I replied, looking down, “but it’s clean enough to be barefoot in, I guess that’s something.”

I took a sip of my water and she closed her eyes as she gulped the cool liquid. I gazed at her neck, watching her swallow, then looked away and exhaled as I set my glass on the counter.

“Oh, water is good,” she sighed.

“Indeed,” I responded, glancing at the clock on the microwave. It read 2:31. I looked back at her. She tilted her head and squinted at me.

“We’ve never hung out together, just the two of us, have we?” she asked.

“No, I guess we haven’t. I’ve always sort of run into you at group things–that charity prom thing Mallory did, that show where Aaron’s band played–“

“Mackenzie’s birthday party,” she chimed in.

“Yeah, Mackenzie’s birthday party,” I nodded.

“You were with that guy…”

“Jeremy,” I filled in the verbal blank, “Yep. Hmm,” I stared at the light reflecting on the kitchen sink spigot.

“So I take it he’s not around anymore?”

I snapped myself out of my reverie. “Oh, no, no, we um, parted ways a few months ago.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking at her feet.

I waved my hand in the air. “Don’t be. Water, bridge, fish in the sea, all that,” I said.

“Well that sounds like a healthy outlook,” she smiled.

“What about you? You got a special someone?” I asked, grabbing the water pitcher and topping her glass off.

“Oh thanks, um, no. I’m not really looking for someone right now, I got out of something long and serious like half a year ago, and you know, I just…I’m okay right now, I don’t need anyone.”

I refilled the water pitcher at the sink. “I hear that. There are always toys.”

“Toys?”

“Yeah,” I replied, putting the pitcher back in the fridge, “Little battery operated friends. I need to invest in some rechargeable batteries, though, you know? Too much of my money goes to Energizer.” I shut the refrigerator door and turned back to her. She had a goofy grin on her face.

I felt my eyebrows raise. “You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. You’re funny,” she said.

“Why thank you, I try,” I replied as I leaned back against the counter.

She glanced at the clock on the microwave as well. “If I spend the night, my car should be okay where it is, right? There isn’t like some sunrise curfew on strange cars in your neighborhood or anything, is there?”

“No, it’ll be fine. And I can cook a decent poached egg, so there’s that to look forward to in the morning.”

“Wow, you’ll make me breakfast? I should hang out with you more often.”

“The perks are endless,” I said flatly as I stretched, “Let me go make up the couch for you,” I clapped my hands together and took a few steps toward the living room.

“Do you have a cat? Or a dog? Or…anything?” she asked suddenly, looking down.

I stopped. “Uh, no, why?”

“I don’t mersin escort know, you just, you have all this space, and I feel like you’d be the kind of person that would have a creature of some sort.”

I felt my eyes narrow, trying to process what that statement meant. “Thanks, I guess? Nope. Just me. How about you? You have pets?”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Yes. Three cats. I love them, but they’re horrible. You want one?”

I laughed. “Oh sure, with that endorsement, how could I say no?”

She set her glass down on the counter. “I’m kidding. I’m stuck with them, I know. The one, Odin, he’s such a love bug, but only when it’s inconvenient. He doesn’t want to be pet any other time except when I’m in the kitchen trying to make food,” she crouched down on the floor and held her hands apart in an attempt to illustrate the size of the animal she spoke of. “And it’s like, he’s this fifteen pound monster rubbing on my legs for affection and I’m like ‘Cat are you fucking insane? I’ve got boiling water here.'” she continued.

“Fifteen pounds? That’s a lotta cat,” I commented, scratching the back of my neck.

“Right? And he’ll do this.” She let her knees drop, put her palms on the floor, and began crawling toward me. My mouth opened, but I didn’t know what to say. I instinctively took a few steps back, the counter bumping into my lower spine. She kept her head down, determined to provide a demonstration.

“Like this,” she said, as she pressed against my bare legs with her shoulder, running the right side of her torso along my shins, turning and running her left side along my shins, her knees making muffled thumps on the tiled floor.

I put my hands on either side of the counter behind me. “Oh wow, that would be tough to concentrate on whatever I was doing with that happening,” I said.

“Oh yeah. And if I don’t pay attention to him, if I try to ignore him and just go about my business, he’ll jump up on my legs like this.”

She came up on her knees, placing her hands on my thighs, her eyes wide, conveying the seriousness of the peril she endured. The edge of the counter bit into my lower spine.

I cleared my throat. “Oh wow, that sounds kinda dangerous.”

“I know right?” she looked off into space and sighed, slumping by spreading her knees apart and letting her hands fall around my ankles, resting her cheek against my knee.

“But what am I supposed to do? If I don’t pet him in the kitchen, I don’t get any Odin lovin’ any other time.”

“That is a dilemma.” I straightened and bent one knee, then the other. She didn’t move. I inhaled shallowly, a light floral scent wafting up from her and invading my nostrils. “Um, what about the other two?”

“Athena and Kali? They only come into the kitchen when it’s time for food. They’ll snuggle up at night in my bed or on the couch, but the kitchen is Odin’s territory, they don’t even try to come in unless it’s feeding time.”

“Oh. Well, at least you don’t have three cats trying to kill you when you’re cooking,” I said, trying to sound casual.

“I suppose I should be grateful for that,” she sighed.

“Yeah,” I said, drumming my nails on the counter for a moment, not sure what to say next. “So, a god and two goddesses, huh?”

She looked up at me. “Yeah,” she smiled and nodded her head slightly, then let her chin drop on my thigh, inhaled, and closed her eyes. “I can smell you, you know,” she said quietly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I swear I showered today,” I tried to step away, but she opened her eyes, rose up on her knees, and tightened her grip around my legs.

“No, no please, it’s not unpleasant, I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious,” she replied hastily, “What I probably should’ve said was… ‘I can smell your desire.'”

“Oh. That. Yeah. Sorry. Um, but, in my defense, there’s a hot chick kneeling in front of me, I can’t help but be a little turned on.”

She released my legs and put her hands on the counter behind me as she stood, pressing her body lightly against me, her face inches away from mine.

“Have you ever been with another woman?” she asked.

I guffawed, a heat rising in my cheeks. “A few times. Not for a while, I mean, the whole ‘no pet’ thing tends to turn them off.”

“Mmmm,” she replied, pressing her cheek against mine, “I think you should make me your pet,” she whispered, then pulled back to gauge my reaction, that light floral scent making my vision vibrate for a moment.

I shook my head slightly. “Uh-what?”

“Make me your pet. I’ll be your pretty little kitty,” her voice went up in pitch as she rubbed the tip of her nose against mine.

“Oh. Um, that sounds–” I blew out some air, “uh, very interesting and a lot of fun, but I don’t want to take advantage–you’re not sober.”

“I’m sober enough, I promise,” she assured me. “Maybe I shouldn’t drive or operate heavy machinery, but–” she took two steps back, tilted her head toward the ceiling, closed her eyes, held her arms out to either side of mersin escort bayan her, and touched each of her index fingers to the tip of her nose. I swallowed hard as I stared at her neck again.

She dropped her arms and put them behind her back, opening her eyes and bringing her head down coyly, stepping toward me again. “I’d say sober enough to give consent, wouldn’t you?” She pressed herself against me, her hands covering mine on the counter.

“Um, but weren’t you just stumbling in my hallway? “

She looked off to the side and smirked. “Oh yeah, that. I miiiight have been exaggerating a bit to be sure I could spend more time with you.”

I felt my eyebrows raise. “Huh. Sneaky. Good tactic.” I nodded.

“It does seem to be working…” she leaned back, keeping her hips pressed against me. “Although, you’re practically bent backwards over the counter, maybe I should be worried I’m taking advantage of you.”

I laughed nervously and loosened my grip on the counter, allowing my body to straighten up.

“No, no, I’m just trying to be respectful,” I looked at our feet on the floor and rubbed my fingers into my palms where the counter had creased them.

“I appreciate that,” she placed her hands on my hips, “but you don’t have to be.”

She leaned forward and lightly licked my lips, causing me to gasp. My hands reached for her hips, but I retreated and gripped the fabric of my own dress instead.

“Make me your pet. Please,” she softly whined, gently rubbing her cheek against my other cheek. I could feel her breath on my neck.

“I–uh” I sighed as I felt her breasts pressing against mine. “I don’t know, um…”

I focused on her glass on the counter, trying to think clearly. Flashes of role play scenarios I’d done with other partners fluttered in my mind’s eye.

“Okay wait,” I said, putting my hands on her shoulders and gently pushing her away, “Do you know what a safe word is?”

Her eyes widened a bit. “Yes ma’am, I do,” she breathed.

I closed my eyes. “Okay, all right, uh, how about…ummm…” I opened my eyes. “Dog biscuit?”

“Dog biscuit?'”

I took my hands away from her shoulders to gesture as I explained. “Well, I know it’s two words, but if you’re going to be my kitty, then it’s a simple phrase that wouldn’t be used in a cat-oriented scenario. It’s just off the top of my head, I mean, if you’ve got something better we can use that instead.”

She smiled widely and shook her head side to side. “No, no, ‘dog biscuit’ works, I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“You didn’t, don’t worry,” I brought my hands together in a prayer pose pointed at her. “Okay. If either one of us says ‘dog biscuit,’ whatever’s happening stops, we take three deep breaths, and discuss how we’re each doing and figure out together where to go from there. Agreed?”

I stuck my hand out to shake.

She looked at it. ” Are you serious?” she asked.

I was shaking, but I did my best to keep my voice even. “I am if you are,” I turned my palm upward slightly and shrugged.

“Absolutely,” she replied as she shook my hand.

“Good.” I gripped her hand. “That’s good.” I took a deep breath and pulled her toward me. “Now kiss me,” I commanded.

She smiled and pinned me against the counter again, our mouths connecting as our arms wrapped around each other. She forced her tongue into my mouth, swirling it around mine.

I allowed myself to melt against her, my hands trailing down her back to grab her ass and pull her tighter to me. She moaned as I gripped her, her right hand groping my left breast. I remembered the agreed-upon activity, so I lightly kneaded my way up her back to her hair, then firmly grasped a fistful, forcing her away from me. She inhaled sharply, I couldn’t tell if it was in frustration at being pulled out of the kiss or pleasure from having her hair pulled, or both.

“All right,” I said, breathing heavily, “Now–now, you ‘d better get down because good kitties shouldn’t be jumping up like this.”

Her mouth opened and her eyes widened. “Yes ma’am,” she said as she crouched down.

“I have a talking cat now?” I asked patronizingly.

“Oh, I mean: Meow,” she corrected herself.

“That’s better, ummmm” I balled my hands into loose fists and glanced around the kitchen, looking for anything that could be utilized as an object that would be cat-related. She mewed behind her closed lips at my feet.

“I know, I know kitty, hang on a second,” my eyes landed on her quarter-full glass of water.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect to be bringing a cat home tonight, I don’t have any cat food or cat toys or a collar, but maybe kitty’s thirsty? Do you want some water, kitty?” I reached in a cabinet for a bowl and raised my voice a few octaves the way people often do when talking to animals or children.

She meowed.

I put the bowl on the floor and got the water pitcher from the refrigerator, pouring water into the bowl.

“There you go kitty, drink some water, it’s escort mersin good for you.”

I put the pitcher away as she lowered herself on her forearms to drink from the bowl. I knelt down on the floor in front of her as she began lapping at it with her tongue.

“Good kitty,” I said, “Such a long tongue you have.”

She smiled and chuckled, then meowed in response.

“And such pretty fur,” I pushed my fingertips into her hair, letting my nails gently scrape her scalp. She arched her back, seemingly inviting me to move further down her body.

“Such a pretty kitty,” I murmured, stroking down her back, my nails scraping the fabric of her clothing. When I got to her lower back she wiggled her butt, and I playfully scratched back and forth rapidly at the bottom of her spine. She stopped lapping at the water and purred.

I let my nails trace the curve of her left ass cheek and let my fingertips glide beyond the hem of her skirt to her thighs, where I was careful not to catch my nails on her fishnets, and began a sort of massage, gripping at her flesh and letting it go.

“Such strong legs, kitty is a very active kitty. And look at these little beans,” I mused, grabbing her middle toe on her left foot as it poked through the fishnet.

She hissed and turned, her knees bumping into the water bowl as she swung around and smacked my arm.

I recoiled and cradled my right arm as if I were holding a fresh wound. “Okay, okay, kitty doesn’t like her feet touched.”

She mewed and shook her head no.

“Okay kitty, I didn’t know that, I’m sorry,” I said as I stroked her head, trying to think of what to do next. She leaned her head into my touch. I thought about making her crawl around my house trying to find mice or engaging her with a spool of twine I knew I had in a nearby drawer, but those options didn’t seem very sexy.

“Oh kitty, I wish I had more to offer you,” I sighed, thinking about sliding my hand down the gap between her skin and her shirt to palm her breasts.

She pushed against my hand so I was stroking her neck.

“Well, you said you had some experience with pussy,” she cooed.

I chuckled. “I do have a talking cat!” my thumb moved back and forth on her chin, “Wow, I’m going to be famous. Oh boy, the comedy routines I’m going to teach you for the rounds we’ll make on all the late night talk shows, woo, I can’t wait.”

She made a purring noise and leaned forward, closing her eyes and puckering her lips slightly. I watched as her right leg stretched out along the floor near the bowl, which had splashed water on the floor when she’d turned to hit me, and an idea came to me. I put my index finger over her mouth.

“Kitty,” I said mock-sternly, “You were a bad kitty,”

She opened her eyes and made a noise like a questioning meow, backing away.

“You spilled your water, kitty, and you scratched me, that’s not nice, I’m going to have to punish you,” I said, maintaining my false sternness.

“Oh,” she said, sitting back on her haunches.

I stood up, putting my hands on my hips for a moment and then bringing them up into a shrug as I bent forward.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, “Does a person spank a cat?”

She smiled and nodded. “Well, you can spank this cat,” she whispered back.

“Okay,” I replied, straightening up and putting my hands back on my hips like an actor who just remembered the rest of the scene. I pointed down at her. “Yes! You have been a bad kitty and you must be punished!”

She meowed and tried to quickly crawl toward the living room, but I reached down and wrapped my arms around her waist in a sort of from-behind bear hug. She hissed in protest, but didn’t struggle, getting to her feet as I lifted her up.

“Now kitty, don’t make this harder than it has to be,” I warned.

She stood on two feet, her arms resting against my arms looped around her midsection, her hair tickling my nose as I held her close.

“Good kitty, good,” I cooed behind her, gently pushing her toward the counter, “You need to be punished, and, you know, maybe you’ll like it,” I ventured.

She purred in response as I pressed my hand to the back of her head, guiding her to bend over. She placed her hands flat on the counter and bent over, arching her back and wiggling her ass at me.

“Oh, kitty is familiar with getting spanked,” I remarked.

She turned to look at me, her lips curled into a mischievous smile and she wiggled her eyebrows slightly.

I bit my bottom lip as I positioned myself on her left side and delicately ran my fingertips down her spine, allowing my hand to dig in and palm her left cheek, gathering the fabric of her skirt so I could slip my hand underneath.

She tensed a bit. “I’m not wearing sexy underwear tonight,” she explained, “I wasn’t really anticipating…this.”

I held her skirt in my left hand with the fabric bunched up against her back so I could see her underwear. She was wearing black cotton boy shorts with a white waistband.

“Mmm. You are so fucking hot,” I said, pulling my right arm back and giving her a solid smack on her left butt cheek. She yelped and started forward a bit as my palm landed against the fishnet and cotton. “Don’t you ever think otherwise.”

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