“About ten minutes ago,” I said.
Mrs. Branch came down with a little envelope. She handed it to me. “A thank you,” she said.
“Mom, you look like new.”
“Better than new.”
“I told you Mike had the magic touch.”
Mrs. Branch looked into my eyes and said, “You weren’t exaggerating!”
Later, after I dropped Lori back home, I opened the card. It had flowers on the front and the words “Thank You.” It was one of those blank cards where you write your own message. On the top half, in beautiful handwriting it said “To Be Continued!!” That’s right, with four exclamation points. On the bottom half was one word, a name taking up the whole space: “Joan”—and it had a heart drawn and colored in.
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Uncle Zack and Auntie Lee invited me over for dinner. Auntie Lee made the call and let me in on the reason, which was obvious: they were going to officially tell me I was a dad, or Auntie Lee was pregnant—or they were going to be parents. It was a perspective thing, I guess.
Auntie Lee also coached me about how to behave around Uncle Zack because of me being the father and not him. She also told me not to act stupid because of the other day, because of the way we fucked each other like crazy. In other words, act like we DIDN’T fuck each other like crazy. Like we never would even think of doing something like that.
I rang the bell and Auntie Lee answered the doon, a big smile that got bigger when she saw me.
She pulled me in and when the door was shut, draped her arms around my neck and gave me a slow, lingering kiss on the lips.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” she said.
“Uncle Zack?” I was scared of her surprising show of affection with my Uncle around.
“Out getting a fresh Italian bread and dessert.”
She kissed me again, real feminine—even did that thing where a girl bends one knee and lifts her foot so her lower leg is parallel with the floor and stands kind of on tiptoe. It looks way more cool and sexy than I made it sound.
“You made me cum so, so, sooo hard. I can’t believe it. We did it all. All except you cumming in my mouth. There wasn’t enough left for that!” She laughed.
“Or anal,” I joked.
“Don’t do that one. Never have, never will,” she said with a little frown. “Come help me finish dinner: macaroni, meatballs, and antipasto!” The frown was gone.
She walked in front of me with tight, worn jeans and a loose yellow cotton top. My eyes followed that great ass and I thanked heaven that I had had a chance to see that butt naked and to hold it in my hands. It seemed like a dream.
“Taste the sauce,” she said, holding up a wooden spoon with a little puddle of red in it. She blew on it before offering its contents.
It was spicy, garlicky, and delicious.
“You got some on your chin,” she said. “Right there.” She stuck out her tongue and licked, licked up to my lips and then kissed them. That tongue pushed and I opened my mouth to accept it. There was no rush to her, just a calm exploration—pause and move, pause and dart.”
We heard the door. She broke the kiss and said, “Now, you be a good boy and cut the lettuce for the antipasto. And hide THAT thing!” She giggled and pointed.