by Jamie Knight
“Oh, by all means, please do!” she proclaims. “I should use it myself more often. Charles hasn’t had a home cooked meal in years. We are always going out or ordering in. Plus, you can get all of these pre-packaged meals at the store now. They’re really quite good, and healthy for you.”
“Thank you, Amanda,” I say with sincerity. “I want to thank Devon for being so understanding and so considerate of Alice.”
“No problem,” she says. “And no wonder you’re apologizing for wanting him gone before. It sounds like you two have grown quite close.”
“Oh hush,” I tell her, but I can’t resist smiling. “But you’re right.”
“I always knew there was going to be more between you two,” she brags. “And I just want proper credit for it happening under my roof. While both of you were staying with us.”
“Proper credit is 100 percent given,” I assure her. “But don’t go getting ahead of yourself. I have no idea what it really means. We’ve only kissed. That’s it.”
“That’s it so far,” she adds.
“Very funny,” I tell her, but I’m hoping she’s right.
“You know, we could take Alice with us,” Amanda suggests, as if realizing it would give me an opportunity to see if that “so far” prediction of hers will end up coming true. “It is a family camping trip and other kids will be there. I’m sure she’d love to be around other children her own age.”
“Oh, I couldn’t have you do that,” I say, shaking my head.
“Nonsense,” she replies insistently. “We’d be happy to. She is such a doll and she would have so much fun. Plus, it would give you and Devon a chance to have some privacy. Who knows what you might cook up together, am I wrong? And I mean more than just food in the kitchen, of course.”
“Oh gosh,” I say. A light blush comes to my cheeks. “Well, okay. So long as you’re okay with it!”
“Yes,” she confirms. “In fact, I already brought it up with Charles and he agrees. He always knows it’s best to agree with me.”
We both laugh. So it wasn’t just a spur of the moment idea. She’d already pre-planned it. That’s so much like her.
And it’s so much like them. Amanda and Charles have such a lovely relationship. They complement each other so well. She is the outgoing, fun type, and he is the more reserved one, but he’s also always able to rise to the occasion and have fun.
“It will be good for Alice to interact with other kids,” I muse. “I did drag her away from her playmates. She’s been around way too many adults recently. She needs to have some new and different experiences.”
“For sure. I know she probably misses her old ones, but now she can make new friends,” Amanda says. “There will be plenty of activities. They are doing painting, sing-a-longs, s’mores over the fire pit, and I think there are even going to be pony rides!”
“She will absolutely love that!” I say excitedly.
“Good,” she says. “It’s settled, then.”
“You are the best,” I tell her, and mean it.
“Make sure you tell everyone that,” she says with a big grin. “They need constant reminders!”
We laugh again. And speaking of making new friends, I feel like Amanda has opened up more to me recently.
Is it because I have been so honest, myself? We have known each other for a long time but only now do I feel like I’m really starting to get to know her. I feel it’s becoming more special.
“Is Devon getting better, do you think?” she asks, changing the subject. “Has he remembered anything from the past?”
“A few things. And it does seem like he is improving,” I say. “Every now and then, a little light bulb above his head appears to go off.”
“It must just take time,” she says. “I know Charles thinks the world of him.”
Am I starting to think that, too? But in a different way?
“I know, they’ve been friends for so long,” I say.
“Before the accident they could practically finish each other’s sentences,” she tells me, with a bit of a sad tone. “I hope they can get back to it with time.”
I head back to our bedroom, tell Alice the news and help her pack. She is so excited to be going with them.
How wonderful for her. And it will be so wonderful to be here alone with Devon. I hope he will be as thrilled as I am right now. I want to cook something really special for him and make sure we have a nice romantic evening together.
Chapter Nineteen
Cassie
A few hours later, Amanda, Charles and Alice are on their way to the mountains and I’m alone in the house. Devon went out to the gym for an hour, excited to get moving and start his old exercise routine back up again, since the doctor finally okayed everything. I have just enough time to get dinner going before he gets back.
Up in my room, I lay out a slinky black dress I haven’t worn in ages on the bed. I have some strappy heels I wear to interviews that thankfully match. They’re the same shoes I wore with Amanda’s dress when we went out with the girls.
I have to say, it has been super touch and go, just basically living out of a suitcase. Oh, to have my own closet again. Not one I am simply borrowing.
I’d so love to have a place for Alice and myself that is nice and not in some ghetto shack somewhere. A place where I can have my stuff and do my own thing. A place where I can make a closet my own.
Look at me, already planning fun little details for the future. Would Devon have a closet in this house in my future? Do I want this to get serious?
If he wants me, he also has to become a father figure for Alice. Is he up for that? Will she accept him? I must snap out of it and just enjoy the evening. This is a chance to not be stressed out about work and life and being a parent.
I pull on my panties and bra, then fix the straps. Then I apply lotion to my legs.
I start the process of doing my makeup. I carefully apply my patented cat eye eyeliner. I also have some eyeshadow with sparkles. It will look good in the candlelight.
I avoid the new shiny highlighter trend, however. I might attempt it next time out with the gals, but I’m not sure how Devon would feel about it. It would make me look very different than I normally do.
What guys don’t realize is that we ladies do our makeup mostly for ourselves. Amanda is way more into it than I am, but when pressed, I can hold my own.
We don’t do it to please others, usually. But for special occasions such as tonight, it is nice to be able to present an attractive and appealing face.
I slip on the dress and it feels so nice against my freshly shaved skin. The fabric hugs my curves but provides enough flare to help me feel breezy and radiant. My hope is, just as with my makeup, Devon will think I look hot in it.
Maybe I’m not much of a cook, but when I have to do so, I can pull off a few decent dishes. For tonight, I am making chicken cordon bleu. It’s definitely a remnant from the French phase I went through a few years back.
I used to want to live in Paris and learn fluent French. To be a Parisian, sit in cafes, and have a coffee with a fresh baked croissant. To meet with friends and drink wine from local vineyards, enjoy delicious food, and have conversations about foreign things. To dress elegantly and fashionably and lose myself in another time and place.
Those dreams are still within me, but they seemed to fade in intensity over the years as I felt I could never really live them, since I have Alice and real life to attend to. But for some reason they’re back in full force now and I’m hoping to share the experience with someone special. Maybe that someone is Devon.
I put the chicken cordon bleu in a pan to warm up in the oven. I go the fridge to grab the butter, when all of a sudden two hands start to caress my neck and back.
I feel goosebumps rise all over. The warmth of a strong, masculine body moves up against mine. I turn my head slightly and he kisses me on the cheek.
Devon is back from the gym early and he has already showered – probably at the gym
, since I didn’t hear him do it here, but then again, he snuck in so expertly that I hadn’t even heard him come home.
He’s dressed just as nicely as I am, in a button-down blue shirt and black slacks. Even his hair is done, with a little bit of gel worked in to give it a messy but handsome look.
Dressed up as he is, I can almost picture the jock high schooler that he was — the one who teased me, and who I hated. But that image is also replaced by the man who is standing and holding me. The man who is kind, thoughtful, and helpful.
I turn in his arms, reach up to put my hands in his hair and pull his face to mine. I kiss him. Our eyes close.
Everything around us vanishes, except for the pressure of our lips on one another’s mouths. Passion comes quickly. Our lips are hot and hungry.
Devon pulls me up against him till there is no room between our bodies. My breasts squish against his muscular chest. My hands drop from his hair to cross behind his neck.
He steps back, seeking something to lean on or sit on, and pulls me along with him. As we enter the living room, I pull away and turn back.
Breaking the moment just briefly, I run to turn the timer on the oven before giving over completely. I don’t want the food to burn and set off the smoke alarm.
I run back to Devon’s arms. His lips are on mine again, insistent and demanding. I open my mouth to him and suck his tongue.
The action escalates, as we kiss deeper and we end up on the couch in the living room. He kisses me all over, from my forehead, to my cheek, to my mouth and down my neck. Every touch of his lips sends tingles through my body.
Devon leans back and pulls me up into his lap. My hands touch and rub his broad shoulders and I quiver a bit when I feel his cock harden beneath me.
He pulls down the straps of my dress, exposing my cleavage and black lace bra. With the way I’m sitting, my boobs are right in his face — something I know he enjoys.
His big hands grasp at the cups of my bra and pulls my breasts free. My nipples are hard, and he gives each one a pinch, driving me absolutely crazy. They are so sensitive.
He then kisses down my breasts and licks them. It feels so good, I throw my head back and lean into him.
My pussy aches. I’m so wet now, practically dripping on his lap. I need to be taken. To be fucked. I want to feel his hard cock inside me.
My breath comes in gasps, I’m so sick with desire. I pull off of his lap. He raises a questioning eyebrow as I stand before him, but I don’t explain. I just remove my dress, and bra, and panties.
He watches my little striptease with eager eyes, and when I am nude, he hurries through his clothing — pulling at buttons and throwing his pants off. His boxer-briefs are the last thing to go. The long, thick cock I’ve been waiting for springs free, hard and ready to thrust into my ready pussy.
We stand naked before each other, just looking over each other’s bodies for a brief second, but that is all. Soon his hands are gripping and squeezing my breasts, hard. His lips are on my neck and his cock threads through my thighs to rub against my eager folds.
This is it. I’m going to fuck Devon. I know in my heart I have always wanted him. This moment appeases the lonely, rejected teenager in me and also the adult woman. He is everything I ever wanted.
I hated him because I loved him. Because I wanted him to do this to me so badly. It was all sexual tension and angst. But now it was being released in one big amazing sexual experience.
I ask him to put on a condom. Devon smiles, pulls one out from his pants’ pocket and then proceeds to tear open the package for the prophylactic with his teeth. He retrieves it from the packaging and puts it on his stiff manhood.
I bend over on the couch and put my ass up in the air. I feel like I’m in heat. I need to be mounted and penetrated and pounded.
He gets behind me and slaps his cock against my ass. Then he spits on my pussy to help lubricate it. It feels so dirty and nasty when he does that, but maybe that’s the way I need to feel right now. I need to be treated like a toy and used strictly for his pleasure.
I want to please him. I want to give in and be his, to bow to him and serve him. He has been so giving and helpful.
I have a primal urge deep inside me to provide pleasure for my provider. It is ancient and real, but it’s here and now.
I feel the full length of his dick slide into my pussy. It’s so thick, it stretches my walls and fills me up. It feels so good, my hips buck back against his, begging him to fill me more.
He starts to fuck me. It’s not about love right now; it’s about pure, unbridled lust. I can feel his dick throbbing. All that pent-up energy.
We’ve both been wanting this for years — even if his mind can’t remember, his body knows. He starts to thrust faster and faster. I feel my legs go weak at the knees. I take it, though. He has given so much to me and now he is giving more and more.
He flips me over and thrusts in again at a different angle. I am on my back now, with my legs in the air.
As he pounds me, Devon massages my clit. The intensity is almost too much. My stomach and pussy tighten and tense.
Gone are all thoughts about dinner and timers and magical moonlit Parisian walks along the Seine. Gone are thoughts about Charles and Amanda and all our friends. Gone are even thoughts about raising Alice.
Gone are thoughts about jobs and real estate. All that is on my mind right now is Devon’s cock deep inside me and his fingers rubbing and flicking my clit.
After a few moments in this position, he pulls out and maneuvers me off the couch. He sits and grabs my hand.
He pulls me, turns me to face away from him. He puts his hands on my hips and slowly guides me, lowering me down onto his shaft.
The slow penetration drives me wild. And after he is completely in, I rest for a moment, sitting on him. Feeling him hard inside me.
I am not going anywhere. This is my purpose right now: To ride him.
I start to slide up and down on his cock. My pussy is so wet it lubricates his shaft, and like a hydraulic lift, I move up and down, pumping, milking his manhood.
He uses his hands to help me bounce on his dick. My hands are holding onto the back and sides of the couch. My tits jiggle with each movement.
I bounce on his dick faster and faster. I rub and tease my clit and get close to coming. Devon is moaning, so I know he is close, too. We are two beings in motion, with a common purpose.
“I’m about to come,” he says.
“I am too,” I say.
We pick up the intensity. He is pounding me so hard, rising up off the couch and practically picking me up.
And at the same time, we both come. I scream my pleasure as my orgasm rocks through me.
Under me, Devon grunts and thrusts into me, hard. His cock pulses and he fills up the condom.
The oven timer dings.
We look at each other and start laughing.
It’s a moment of passion and relief that I’ll never forget. And I hope he doesn’t, either.
Chapter Twenty
Devon
After getting dressed again, Cassie and I finally sit and eat. And to be honest, I’m starving. But it’s always better to fuck and then eat. And honestly, I couldn’t have waited a second longer to take Cassie and make her mine.
The chicken is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I am really impressed by Cassie’s cooking!
Then again, I can’t remember the last time someone prepared a meal for me. It might have happened a million times before my accident.
How would I know? I could have potentially had life changing food shared with people who said and did things that helped shape me into the man I am today. But now that’s all buried somewhere deep down beneath the surface.
It is still so frustrating. Will I ever be complete?
We sit at the kitchen table. She has candles lit and rose petals arranged by the dessert dish. And wait a second, it’s my favorite: fresh pecan pie. I hadn’t remembered that until now.
; How did Cassie know? Does she understand more about me than she lets on? Each and every bite is perfect in taste and texture.
I’m really impressed by the whole dinner. It’s the effort that she put into it that really brings a smile to my face. Her food is delicious but her heart and the way she tries to make things better are the real showstopper.
Cassie proceeds to dive into stories about the past. I can’t believe all the stuff she remembers about high school. She tells me how I scored the winning basket at a game once and the crowd went crazy.
Apparently, I almost won the Homecoming King competition but lost out to Jeffrey Dorsey, the quarterback for the football team. Then, this one time, I threw a big party when my parents went out of town.
“You were there?” I ask incredulously.
“Oh yeah.” She grins. “I wasn’t invited, mind you!”
She lets out a little laugh. It seems a bit sheepish and nervous. I can tell she did feel slighted back then and the sting hasn’t completely gone away.
“I could hear the noise from my house and see the cars heading down the street. So, I snuck in. Do you think I was going to miss it?”
“So, you crashed my party?” I say, laughing.
I reach over the table and put my hand on hers.
“I did!” she says with a grin. “I put on a super slutty top and tight jeans and walked right over.”
I try to imagine her in that outfit and my dick twitches.
“What was I doing when you saw me?” I ask, bringing her hand to my lips for a quick kiss.
“You were doing a keg stand out back and could barely stand after they set you right-side up,” she explains. “I laughed and you took notice. Afterwards, I waited for you inside. A few guys were hitting on me and you pushed them aside. I felt very protected in that moment.”
“Hmmm. Interesting,” I say.
Images fill my mind. Something just clicked in my brain. I muse on it for a few seconds.
“What is interesting?” she inquires.
“I can picture that moment,” I say. “It’s just a fragment, but it feels unlocked. I can picture that night and the drunken fun. And I can see you, in your low-cut blouse and tight blue jeans. You know, things are starting to get a little bit clearer now. You’re really helping me!”
