How she looks while riding me, dressed in the little red The Flash costume with her tits hanging out—thanks to me tearing the front of her dress open in my desperate need to get a taste of her—is a sight I’ll never be able to erase from my mind. I swear, it’s quite frankly the most erotic moment of my life.
Hot damn, I need to buy her another costume.
One Week Later: New Year’s Eve
Tyler
Since we kept ourselves holed up during Christmas, for New Year’s Eve, we decided we’d have our family and a few of our closest friends over for a PJs game night party.
We’ve got board games set up in the dining room, Xbox One set up with Guitar Hero Live in the living room, and a poker table placed in the kitchen. We’re also making homemade pizzas with every topping imaginable, and we’ve set up shop to make our own hurricane cocktails after I found the Hard Rock’s recipe online.
Again, like over Christmas, we didn’t want to make too much of a fuss, so we’ve made the dress code simple. I’m in a pair of Star Trek PJs, and Mia’s wearing a Waiting for my letter to Hogwarts nightshirt with a pair of stripy over-the-knee socks. Her look gives off a schoolgirl vibe, and it’s sexy as hell. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to keep my hands to myself for the duration of the evening.
Damn it, now, I wish I hadn’t invited anyone, so I could have my wicked way with her. Fuck her into next year. Literally.
On a serious note, I’m looking forward to getting together with the people I love when it isn’t surrounded by the darkness of my mom’s death. Tonight is about having fun and bringing in the New Year on a high note.
Plus, I have some making up to do with Junior for not being the greatest uncle following the days after my mom’s death, but with what I’ve got up my sleeve for him, I have a feeling we’ll be the best of friends in just a few hours.
Once the house is shipshape for the party, I make my way into the kitchen, and a groan of appreciation expels from my lips at the view of my wife bending over, searching for something in one of the bottom cabinets. I can see a hint of her panty line, and of course, she’s wearing red.
“That is one fine view, Mrs. Bailey,” I announce from behind Mia.
She lets out a giggle as she stands with a glass bowl in her hands before setting it down on the countertop. I sidle up to her as she opens a large bag of potato chips and then deposits them into the awaiting bowl.
“You know, I think you should slip into a pair of black stiletto heels. They would look amazing with this outfit.”
She raises a brow, smirking. “Oh, really?”
“Oh, yeah. You have this schoolgirl vibe going on, and I’m not ashamed to admit that it’s turning me on.”
“Well,” she says while laughing, “I hate to burst your bubble, but I’m not wearing heels for a pajama party.”
I edge closer to her until my front brushes with her side. “I’m not talking about for the party. We have a little while until everyone arrives,” I say, suggestively thrusting my hips against her waist.
Her eyes light up and smolder with lust as she feels my hard-on pressing up against her.
“What are you thinking?” she asks, smiling flirtatiously, as she turns to me.
I pull her closer to my body while her hands come to rest at the back of my neck.
“I’m thinking we should do a Star Trek and Harry Potter crossover—you know, where Captain Kirk fucks Hermione…while she’s of legal age, of course,” I add lightheartedly.
Mia throws her head back on a laugh. “I like the sound of a crossover. I’ve always wanted to be Hermione.” Mia’s words become a little breathy, and the hitch in her throat when the word Hermione slips from her lips is a telltale sign that she’s down for a little role-playing. “But why Captain Kirk and not Spock?”
“Because I know the only Star Trek you’ve ever liked is the one with Chris Pine in it, and I know you think he’s hot or whatever. I mean, obviously, he doesn’t hold a candle to me.”
“Hmm,” she says almost like a purr. “I like your thinking. I don’t think we have enough time for a full episode though, but I think we can squeeze in a small scene.” She rises on her tiptoes, her lips brushing over mine with the barest of kisses. “How should we set the scene up?”
On pure instinct, I spin her around and push her up against the countertop. I kick her legs apart and lean over her, pressing my lips to her ear. “It should be a kitchen scene on board the Starship Enterprise. After Hermione finished magic school, she went on her own way, and now, she helps superheroes and the like take down the bad guys.”
“Really?” She giggles as she gets into the story.
“Yeah. Her next mission is helping the Starship Enterprise on a maiden voyage to slaughter a Russian commander who’s threatening to destroy the universe. Anyway,” I say, pushing my hips against her ass, letting Mia feel how hard I am, my mouth still attached to her ear, “they kill the guy, and they head back to the spaceship. It’s late, it’s dark, but Hermione can’t sleep.”
“Why’s that?” Mia asks, still playing along.
“She can’t stop thinking about Captain Kirk and how sexy he looked while slaying that fucker to shreds. She’s so hot for him, so horny and wet, that she can’t stand it.”
“What’s she going to do about it?” Mia’s breaths come out a little choppy, completely affected by me—or I should say, Captain Kirk.
My hand dips under her nightshirt, and I gently run my fingers over her panty-covered pussy, teasing her.
“She fights against the urge to play with herself. She knows her fingers won’t be enough to satisfy her need, so she denies herself the pleasure. Instead, she decides to head to the kitchen to see if a cool glass of milk will help chill the heat circling that pretty pussy of hers.”
I rub Mia’s mound in a clockwise motion, trying to help her understand the kind of heat I’m talking about. A quiet moan slips from her lips, and she arches her back.
“Can you feel how hot it is, how incredibly wet she is?”
“Hmm…yeah, I can feel it,” Mia replies, instinctively thrusting her ass into my cock.
I bite back my own groan.
God, I’m so fucking hard.
“It’s no use though because, the instant she steps into the kitchen, she sees that she’s not alone. No, Captain Kirk is in there, too, and what he’s doing isn’t so innocent.”
“Why? What’s he doing?” she gasps out her question.
I continue to rub her over her underwear, feeling the wetness seep on my fingers through the lace of her panties.
“He has the palm of his hand wrapped around his thick monster of a cock, and he’s jerking off. And do you know whom he’s thinking about?”
“Who?”
“He’s thinking about her and all the naughty things he wants to be doing to her. Her gasp of arousal alerts him to her presence, and his eyes spring open. Immediately, sparks shoot across the kitchen, and the room sizzles with sexual awareness. Captain Kirk doesn’t stop though. He just keeps caressing his dick, and because of how hot and horny she is for him, she’s unable to avoid the pull she feels when in such close proximity to him. So, slowly, she begins to lift her nightshirt, revealing a pair of hot-as-sin red panties.” As I huskily speak the words, I use my free hand to lift Mia’s nightshirt over her hips and ass. While keeping my slow and seductive pace on her pussy, zoning in on her clit, I smooth my other hand over one of her rounded butt cheeks, squeezing a little.
“God, Tyler…” she moans.
I slap her ass. “It’s Captain Kirk, not Tyler.” I snicker.
She gives out a laugh, breathing through her moans. “God, Captain Kirk.”
“That’s right, baby. Say my name.”
Just as I go to continue with the story, the shrill of the doorbell rings through the house, and I curse, pressing my head along her neck.
“Fuck my life. Why are people always early?” I complain with a growl of frustration.
Mi
a laughs from under me before I reluctantly pull away, realizing our crossover will have to wait.
“Sorry, baby,” Mia says as she turns to me.
I grumble when she pulls her nightdress down, covering herself up. She then palms my cheek, looking up at me with desire in her eyes.
Motherfucker.
“We’ll have to continue later.”
“That’s a long time to wait.”
She steps away from me, smiling. “Well, it’ll be all the sweeter if we wait.” She winks.
I all but fist my hands together with irritation, like a petulant child. “You didn’t even get to put your heels on,” I complain.
She ignores me. Instead, she takes a quick glance down at my dick. “Um, I’ll go answer the door while you…well, sort out your little predicament.”
I don’t miss the way the smile creeps along her face.
“If it’s Jo, I’m going to strangle her for cockblocking me!” I yell out as she exits the kitchen before quickly adding, “And who are you calling little? I am far from small!”
Ten seconds later, I’m about ready to rain on Jo’s parade when Mia walks back through with my dad following behind.
“Oh, hey, Dad,” I greet with a smile. Thankfully, my cock turns flaccid in an instant.
He returns my smile, but I notice how his green eyes don’t sparkle anymore, and I know that’s because, ever since my mom died, she took that sparkle with him.
“Hi, son. I’m sorry I’m early, but I was hoping to talk to you and Mia before everyone else arrived.”
I nod, intrigued at what he wants to speak to us about. “Yes, sure. You want a beer?”
“Do bears shit in the woods?” he asks.
I chuckle, loving that saying, and I quickly realize he was the person who instilled it into my head, most like any other sarcastic response.
“They sure do. One beer coming up.”
Of course, as I turn toward the refrigerator, my wife is standing in front of me with a chilled bottle in her hand, already unscrewed.
“Unlike you, I don’t need to ask. I already know bears shit in the woods,” she retorts.
Once Mia hands my dad the beer, they both take a seat at the breakfast bar while I remain standing on the opposite side.
“So, I see you made the effort, Sam,” Mia says in a lighthearted tone, pointing down to his attire.
He’s in a pair of jeans and a Cowboys jersey. Yep. He’s the only sixty-nine-year-old guy I know who still rocks a pair of jeans. I swear, he thinks he’s a younger version of Clint Eastwood. He sure does have his cool factor though.
“Yeah, I don’t do pajamas, sweetheart. I think the last time I even owned a pair was around the 1960s. I’m old school and still sleep in my underwear.”
Mia bursts out laughing, and I shake my head, staring at him in somewhat disgust.
“That’s way too much information, Dad.”
“Well, you asked,” he argues, taking a sip from his bottle.
“Um, no, we didn’t. And, for future reference, underwear discussions with your son and daughter-in-law are a no-go.”
He shakes his head with amusement.
“How was your trip to Seattle?” Mia asks my dad a few beats later.
His face straightens out before he gives a nod of the head. “It was good. It was nice to clear my head, spend some quality time with the girls and Ashton. I also had a lot of time to think, and that’s why I wanted to speak to you both.”
“Okay, shoot. We’re listening,” I say, leaning my elbows on the countertop and shifting closer.
“You know your mother meant everything to me. She was my wife, my entire world. We spent forty incredible years together. The house you grew up in, we bought it when she was expecting Ashton, and we spent years renovating it, making it perfect. We wanted a home our kids could grow up in, a home where it would shape them into the incredible adults they’d no doubt develop into.
“After Ashton was born, it took your mama a long time to get pregnant again—to the extent that we honestly thought having any more children was out of the picture. I paid for every test available to see if there were any underlying problems, and although the tests back then are not what they are today, everything came back normal. She was healthy, but her body simply wouldn’t let her carry another child. She never liked to admit it, but the thought of having no more children killed her. She’d always wanted a big family. She craved it, but each month, when her period would come, she’d lose a piece of herself until, one day, she was so depressed that she turned to a bottle of pills.”
Mia lets out a gasp, and I feel my brows draw inward, surprise and shock taking over my face.
I never knew that.
“I stopped her before she did anything stupid.”
I relax a little when he says this because, Jesus, the thought of my mama causing herself harm is unimaginable, but I also know what can happen to a person when they let themselves become so consumed with tear-shattering sadness that revolves around a child or children.
My dad continues, mostly looking in my direction. “That was when I realized she needed help. So, I got her help with the best shrink I knew at the hospital, and because trying for another baby was putting so much stress on her, we simply stopped trying.
“Your mom got better, and it wasn’t until she came to the realization that perhaps we were to be blessed with only one child that she got pregnant with Christopher. Then, miraculously, five months after he was born, we were expecting you. It took four years of blood, sweat, and tears to get to that point, and then without even trying, she brought both you and Christopher into the world. It was like a goddamn miracle.
“If it wasn’t for the complications she had with your birth, leading to her having a full hysterectomy, I swear, she would have filled that entire house with a goddamn football team, but she knew it wasn’t meant to be. Being a mother was in her blood—that’s all she ever wanted to be—and being blessed with you three boys was more than enough for her.”
I glance over at Mia, and the sadness I see cross her features tears my heart into pieces. My dad’s topic of conversation is obviously too close to home for her. I reach over the countertop for her hand. As my fingers connect with hers, her eyes find mine, and she gives me a gentle smile while she clutches tightly to my hand. We still haven’t discussed the future and whether children will be a part of that future, but regardless of what she decides, I’ll be by her side, no matter what.
My dad’s quiet laugh forces me to focus on him. “Honestly, I’m glad we left it at number three because you boys were a freaking handful. How your mama didn’t strangle every single one of you was a miracle. Then, as if the three of you weren’t enough, five-year-old Jo came a-knocking with her ringlets of hair, wearing a pretty smile and a football jersey, asking if Christopher could play. She instantly became a member of the family, and your mama loved her like her own.”
We all smile fondly.
“I’m rambling now, but the house has so many good memories, constantly filled with laughter, fighting, football. It wasn’t too long ago that it just became the two of us, just me and your mama…but now, it’s just little old me living in that big house, and it’s too much. It used to be the home I shared with your mom, my wife, and without her, it doesn’t feel like a home anymore. It wasn’t the house that gave me the sense of home; it was your mother and everything that made her, her. Now, the house is empty, and with her no longer by my side, I don’t want to live another day in that house, so I’ve decided to move.”
Although I anticipated that, it still takes me aback a little, and I quickly glance at Mia with a WTF expression.
“Wow, that’s a really big step. You have any idea where you want to move to?” I ask. Although shocked he wants to move, I do understand why living in the house he shared with his wife for longer than I’ve even been alive would be difficult to bear without the one person who made it into the home that he loved so much.
“There’s a
place on Lake Fork I’ve seen. It’s a two-bedroom cabin, right near the water. It needs a little TLC, but I’m gonna fix it up and spend my days fishing. It’s remote and quiet, and it’s exactly what I need. It’s a perfect place to live out the rest of my retirement. There’s also a run-down medical clinic not too far from there, and they are looking for help, so I’m going to offer my services and volunteer a couple of times a week. Although I’ve been retired from medicine for a while, I’m still a registered doctor. I won’t be cutting people open, but I’ll be able to stitch people up and whatnot.”
“It seems like you have all this worked out,” I muse. I do like the sound of him getting back into medicine though.
“I was never prepared to lose your mother, but Ashton helped me figure things out. That leads me to you and Mia.”
“What? Do you want us to help you sell the house?” I question, assuming that’s why he wants my and Mia’s help.
I hate the thought of him selling the house, especially after all the years of hard work he put in it and because my entire childhood up until I left for college was in that house. It’ll be sad to let it go, but it’s not my house, and if Dad wants to sell it, then he has every right to do so.
“I’m not selling it. I’m giving it to you, to you both,” he states so matter-of-factly.
I think I must have misheard what he said. My eyes flicker to Mia with yet another what-the-fuck expression before resuming my attention on my dad.
“Wait, what? Did I just hear you right? You’re giving us the house?”
“That’s right.”
I frown, my forehead no doubt crinkling, as I’m unable to grasp why he’s saying what he’s saying.
“Why?”
“Because I can’t bear the thought of selling it, but I also know I can’t live in that house anymore.”
“But what about Ashton? He grew up in that house, too.”
“His life is in Seattle now and has been for a long time. He won’t be returning to Texas.”
Till Forever Page 29