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
“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
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