Nisan 14, 2021

Kim and Me Ch. 14

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Big Dick

Ch. 14: The weekend together draws to a close

You’ll enjoy this more if you read chapters 1 through 13 of “Kim and Me” first.

If you like this, leave glowing public comments and votes of ‘5’, please. And tell all your friends to come read this, too.

It was close to 5:30 when we returned home from the park. We were both glowing from the exercise and the romp in the woods. I was also still feeling smug about my hole-in-one, but I wasn’t about to mention anything, figuring it could have a negative effect on my sex life if brought up too frequently.

When we entered the house, the cats looked at us from the back of the couch with an expression of “Oh, you again. Got any food?” When no food was immediately forthcoming, they went back to sleep, figuring we weren’t good for anything of interest at the moment.

I set the Frisbees down and said “We should probably think about dinner, although tea, wine, beer, or spirits are also possibilities at this point.”

Kim thought for a moment and then said “That depends. What did you have in mind for dinner?”

“I hadn’t gotten that far. I’ve the ingredients for prawn vindaloo, but that’s fairly hot and I think I’d like something milder. We could stick with Indian food if you like, though: I could whip up my mother’s tuna curry. I make it the way she used to, with a pot of rice and fried green bananas.”

“That does sound mighty good!” Kim said. “How long does it take?”

“It’s as nothing,” I said. “I timed it a few times just to see: I can do it in 22 minutes if I hurry.”

“There is no need to hurry on my account,” Kim said. “You could take your time with this.”

“Tuna curry’s good, then?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay. What would you like to do this evening after dinner?”

“More sex seems like an awfully good idea,” Kim said.

“Always a winner in my book, too! What exactly did you have in mind? I would like to nibble you all over, personally, but we can probably combine that with anything else you had in mind.” I took Kim in my arms and kissed her. “But mostly, I want to spend the evening with you. This has been the most incredible weekend of my life and I don’t want it to end.”

“I love you, too. And I don’t intend for this to be the end of it, either,” Kim replied. “But until one of us wins the lottery or sells movie rights to a book, we’re going to have split up for a few hours at a time just so we can get work done so we can pay the bills and keep the cats in cat food.”

“True, sadly, but I have to say that you’re probably going to have win the lottery. I don’t see people queuing up madly to buy the rights to something like ‘Windows Server Administration Tips for Geeks Who Never Sleep,’ you know.”

Kim smiled. “Surely you could make it more interesting on the surface, like… uh…” She paused for a moment and then said ruefully, “No, I guess you can’t make it more interesting, can you?” She sighed.

“You’re telling me? High-end books for nerds sell well and I like writing them, but it’s not like they’re what I’d ever call ‘a cracking good read.’ I’d recommend them to most people as a sleeping aid.”

“I brought work clothes with me because I figured I’d like to be able to stay here tonight,” Kim said.

“I love the way you think,” I said. “Would you like to stay here? I’d love to spend a nice quiet evening in your mouth.”

Kim giggled and said “You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl, there, stranger. And yes, I’d like that, too.” She kissed me hard and then said, “I’m going to go shower quickly and change into one of those cute little kimonos. You should get to work on dinner. And tea, I think, to answer your original question.” She walked down the hall.

A moment later, I heard a distinct, “Oh, hell!” from the bedroom.

“What’s wrong, honey?” I called.

“Moisture!” Kim said peevishly. I thought for a second to put this in context, then realized that she’d noticed the large damp spot on her blue jeans. I snickered quietly, but not quietly enough. Kim came out of the bedroom, naked from the waist down and holding her blue jeans and panties.

“You knew about this?” she said.

“I had noticed that you’d gotten a trifle damp, yes, but I decided not to point it out to you because there wasn’t a lot we could do about it.”

“You’re laughing at me about this, aren’t you?” Kim said.

“No, not a bit!” I said, trying very hard not to laugh.

“You are a scaly weasel!” Kim said.

“Au contraire, my love, I figured I’d do you a favor by not mentioning it. You wouldn’t be self-conscious and draw attention to yourself, people might not have noticed, and you might not have noticed yourself, so then no harm, no foul.”

Kim moved much closer to me. “And did anyone notice?” she said quietly. I was about to respond in the negative when I saw her bite her lower lip.

“Yes,” I said.

“Tell me.” Kim dropped the jeans and panties on the floor and put her arms around me.

“When bahis firmaları we were walking out of the woods and back to the car, you recall that we saw those three people who had been shooting the 9th hole while we were there in the woods?”

“Yes,” Kim said.

I reached over to the sink and rinsed my hands off, then wiped them off on a clean dishtowel next to where I’d been about to start chopping onions for the curry. “They noticed.” I reached between Kim’s legs with my left hand and cupped her pussy. “As we were walking out of the woods trying to look as nonchalant as possible considering we had twigs and bits of fir needles all over us, the blonde woman caught sight of the damp spot. It wasn’t all that large but it was nice and dark on the denim fabric.”

“Ooooo,” Kim said. She pushed herself into my hand. “Did she do anything?”

I was squeezing Kim’s pussy, feeling the puffiness of the lips and her mons. “She looked at me for a second with a question in her eyes. I nodded very slightly and smiled.”

“Oh, nice!” Kim said. She spread her feet slightly and I slipped two fingers inside her and started pumping her pussy slowly. Kim was still wonderfully damp from a half-hour before and she squished slightly every few strokes. “What happened next?”

“The blonde kind of nudged the redhead in the tank top next to her and I saw her say something. The redhead’s head snapped around and she stared at your crotch for a long second, then looked at me. I nodded again, then glanced off at the woods and nodded at the women again, then I glanced at you and opened my mouth and shoved my tongue into my cheek a couple times like this,” I said, demonstrating. My tongue hitting my cheek looked a lot like a cockhead bouncing off the inside of her mouth and Kim moaned.

“Oh, God, that sounds hot!” Kim was clinging to my arm.

“Just to show them it wasn’t all one way, I held up my hand just enough so they could see it and wiggled my middle finger like I was feeling you up. Like this,” and I wiggled my fingers inside Kim’s pussy.

“More!” Kim said. “Did they do anything?”

“They both looked quite inspired and as we were about 10 feet away, I pointedly picked a large twig from your hair and threw it off to one side. The guy hadn’t noticed any of the interchange until I did that but he didn’t know what to make of it. Right about then, the blonde put her arm around his waist and leaned over and whispered in his ear. The redhead was smiling as we passed. I’m sure they liked the idea.”

“What idea?” Kim said huskily. Her eyes were closed and was leaning into me as I fingered her.

“Well, I couldn’t quite say… but they all three waited until they were almost around the corner and I saw them suddenly duck into the woods together.”

“Oh!” Kim said. “Oh, do me!” She spread her feet wide and humped my fingers. I held on to her with my right arm and worked my hand deep into her pussy until she came, hot, hard, and fast. I held her for a moment longer and then let go of her carefully.

“It’s really kind of a shame to wash my hand. I do so love the way you smell. But hygiene does suggest this’d be a good idea.”

Kim hugged me tightly and said “You get me to do the filthiest things and I am amazed at how much I love this.”

“It’s all you, honey. You were born to be a trollop; you just had too much class to do it effectively without someone to drag you down into the gutters every chance they got,” I said.

Kim kissed me. She picked up her clothes and headed back to the bedroom to finish undressing for her shower. She paused at the door and said “You’re a pig.”

“Well, it’s a hobby!” I replied. We smiled at each other. I started water for the tea.

I’d made tuna curry so many times over the years, it was automatic. Wash the rice, add twice as much water as rice to the pot, bring to a boil, cover tightly, turn off, ignore. Chop an onion, sauté it, make a roux and thin with beer, add curry powder, canned tuna with the juice, the onion, salt, and a sprinkle of pepper, heat to a simmer, turn down, set that aside. Slice a few bananas lengthwise, fry gently in butter in a pan until browned, turn off the heat. Stir a cup or two of unflavored yoghurt gently into the curry mix leaving streaks, bring back to a simmer, turn off. Put the bananas on plates, cover with rice, cover that with hot tuna curry, and voila! Dinner in 22 minutes.

“It’s food, honeybunch!” I called.

“I’m about done. I’ll be right out!”

I put silverware, a couple chutneys and Indian pickles, and the teapot and mugs on the table. The plates went out just as Kim appeared, pink and slightly damp, wrapped in a cotton kimono.

“I’m beginning to think those are one of the best purchases I ever made,” I said.

“Where did you get them?” Kim asked.

“Would you believe at St. Vincent’s? Someone had dumped a whole rack of them, probably as leftovers from a clothing warehouse or something. They were all new and there were half a dozen different kaçak iddaa patterns. I bought the four of these about eight years ago for like five bucks each. They’re incredibly comfortable and very pretty and they’re just the perfect thing in warmer weather or for light evening wear. They’re fine to sleep in, too.”

“I just love these!” Kim said. She twirled in front of the table, which caused the kimono to gape nicely.

“You certainly add a flair to them,” I said. “May I offer you dinner?”

Kim looked at the table and said “You weren’t kidding about dinner in 22 minutes! This smells great.” She took a seat and said “Is it spicy?”

“No,” I replied, “it’s actually quite mild. Very flavorful, but it’s a sweet curry rather than anything hot. Try the Major Grey’s chutney with it first,” I said, handing her a tall thin bottle.

Kim spooned pickled mango slices and spicy syrup on the top of her curry. She took a big forkful and chewed for a moment. Her eyes closed and she said “Mmmm, heaven!” She took another big bite. She chewed for a moment, swallowed, and said “It dazzles me how good a cook you are. Tell me, do you eat like this every day?”

“You mean, do I have steak and wine and brie, no. But yes, I eat tuna curries and angel hair pasta and lasagna and lots of other things that are all about this good. Winters see me making a lot of soups, too. And I can make pretty good matzoh ball soup.”

“I think I’m going to keep you around, even if it’s only for the cooking,” Kim said.

“We can work something out, I’m sure,” I said. “I do rent and lease. Even with an option to own.”

“Good,” Kim said. “I’d hate to see you unappreciated.”

I got up and walked to the refrigerator. “Would you like something to drink with dinner? I can make tea or you might like a beer with this.”

“Beer sounds very good. And what does the house recommend?” Kim said.

“Probably something light and really hoppy that’ll stand up to the curry.” I got a couple bottles of a local microbrew from the fridge and pulled steins out of the freezer. “This’ll do nicely.” I poured us each a glass and brought them to the table. Kim took hers and we toasted. “Prosit!”

“Mmm, this wets the whistle nicely,” she said.

We chowed down for a couple minutes. Kim was clearly enjoying her dinner and then suddenly made a little noise and held up her fork. A piece of fried banana was on the end. “That was a surprise!” She popped it into her mouth and said “That’s very tasty! I don’t think I’ve had fried bananas quite like that before.”

“They’re sweet and rich, but it’s not cloying like bananas Foster,” I said.

“It’s wonderful!” Kim scooped up another large forkful. “Dinner and dessert together.”

We finished dinner and leaned back. Kim had another large swallow of beer and then, somewhat to her surprise, let out a loud belch. “Excuse ME!” she said, somewhat embarrassed.

“The mark of approval for a good, spicy dinner,” I replied. I picked up the plates and silverware and put them in the dishwasher. Kim got up and put the condiments in the refrigerator and we straightened up the table. I wrapped my arms around her waist and said “Okay, kid, what would you like to do this evening?”

Kim hugged me and said in my ear “What have you got in mind, mister?”

“It’s Sunday, so The Simpsons is going to be on soon.”

“I cannot believe that you would stoop so low as to watch The Simpsons when you have me around.”

“Uh, a misplaced sense of priorities? Mens sana in corpora sano?”

“Try again, buster,” Kim said.

“Ummmm… I have admittedly low tastes in humor?” I said.

“You do, but I meant you should try again for entertainments,” Kim said.

“I could read to you,” I said.

“Really? What did you have in mind?”

“There’s a book I’m very fond of I’d like to share a piece of with you. And yes, it’s very funny stuff.”

“What is it?” Kim said. She was clearly interested.

“It’s called ‘Cry Me a River,” by a guy named Pearson. I heard him reading it on NPR a few years ago and I’ve enjoyed reading it to people for the same reason. It’s great stuff. It’s like Faulkner that’s fun to read.”

“That sounds like a lovely idea. Let’s curl up on the couch and you can read to me.”

“Tea is called for, I think. Go ahead and get settled and I’ll bring tea in.” I bustled about in the kitchen making a pot of tea. I heard the TV go on and, sure enough, I heard The Simpsons drifting into the kitchen. “Misplaced sense of priorities, dear?” I said.

“I never said I didn’t like them; I just suggested there were better uses of our time. This is just filling time while you make me tea and come in and read to me.”

“Uh-huh.” A couple minutes later, I returned to the living room with a tea tray. I set it down on the coffee table and said “Help yourself,” then walked over to one of the living room bookcases and snagged “Cry Me a River.” I turned on one of the reading lamps and sat down next kaçak bahis to Kim. She turned off the TV, snuggled into me, and said “Whatcha got?”

“This is a very funny book about a cop in a small town in the Carolinas who’s solving a murder. What’s funny is not the murder, which is completely incidental to the story, but the observations about the people and life. There are sentences that go on for half a page. You know, like Faulkner. Except that it’s very funny. The author’s accent is pure Carolina and it really made it for me listening to him read the sections I want to read to you.”

“Fire away.” Kim lay down so her head was in my lap. I rested my arm on her shoulder and started reading from the first chapter. Sure enough, Kim was laughing before the end of the first page. I read for about 15 minutes and said “That’s a good example of how he writes. This is his best book, I think. I’ve read several of the others and while they’re good, they’re not as engaging as this. There’s another, longer section that I like reading, too, if you’d like more.”

“Yes, please! I don’t remember the last time someone read to me.”

“Okay. Need a pause for tea?”

“Yes, please, one second.” Kim sat up and had a large swallow of tea from her cup. She leaned forward and kissed me hot and sweet for a moment. Kim took another swallow of tea, then settled back in and said “Okay, more, please.”

I read Kim much of chapter 2, where the protagonist recounts how he was sent out on a strange house call by his fellow deputies shortly after joining the local force to take him down a notch. Kim spent a good deal of the next half hour chuckling with her head in my lap, periodically exploding in laughter at some of the particularly funny sentences. At one point, I said “Listen carefully; this is all one sentence,” and proceeded to read for about a minute and a half. At the end of it, I said “Impressed?”

“Yes, very! That was all one sentence?” Kim said.

“Yup.” I continued to the end of the chapter and closed the book.

Kim snuggled in a little more and wrapped her arms around me. “That was wonderful! What would you like to do now?” Kim’s kimono had fallen open long ago and she hadn’t been concerned about shutting it, so most of one breast was exposed, as was a broad patch of skin from her tummy, down past her pubic hair to her left thigh. I put my hand on her breast and moved it up and down her tummy and chest slowly.

“We have eaten, we have drunk, and it’s way too early to go to sleep. We can stay here and channel-surf, or check out any number of things of a prurient nature on the Internet, or we can watch the movies we rented, or watch a video of something else.”

“I’d like to do something sexy with you,” Kim said. “You’re my favorite plaything and I don’t want to stop playing with you.” She pushed herself up slightly so I could reach lower. I moved my hand down and curled my fingers in her pubic hair. Kim started unbuttoning my shirt and said “It’s not fair, you know; you’re still dressed and here I am in a kimono.”

“What’s unfair about that?” I replied, cupping her pussy in my hand and squeezing gently.

“It means that I’m far more accessible than you.”

“I’m still not sure I see the problem.”

“I like playing with you, too, you know.” Kim finished unbuttoning my shirt and pulled it open. She sat up slightly and sucked on my right nipple. I cradled her head to my chest.

“I’m overwhelmed with the weight of your arguments,” I said. “In the ‘doing something sexy’ category, have you got a preference?”

Kim said “Hmmmm” without stopping what she was doing to my nipple. After a moment, she said “I think I’d like to do things online. We can see if there’s someone on the webcams. I think I’d like to do things with you or maybe just to you in front of an admiring audience.”

“Okay! Give me a moment to get into a kimono, too; I think it’ll make things easier.” I kissed Kim and got off the couch and went to the bedroom. I shucked off my clothes and slipped on a kimono. I stopped in the bathroom for a moment for a pit stop and then gave myself a quick wash with a washcloth. Kim had already gone downstairs.

“More tea, honey?” I called downstairs.

“I forgot mine; yes, please, John!”

I poured tea for me and more tea for Kim, then headed downstairs. Kim had already logged in to Phil and Betty’s reflector. Much to my pleasure, Kim had the camera on her face and chest, which was largely uncovered although her nipples were still hidden by the kimono. As I had expected for this time on a Sunday evening, there were a lot of people online. There were a number of people from the other evening who were expressing their pleasure at seeing Kim online again.

I said “I think I’d best get a couple towels.” I walked into the laundry room and grabbed the three biggest, softest bath sheets from the dryer and came back to the office. I skimmed the list of participants. Lynn was there as were Bill and Ginger, but not Honeybare. Both Betty and Phil were on, though, which was a pleasure. I was flattered that so many of the eyes were on the list: we were being watched by nearly everyone.

“Everyone’s watching us, Kim,” I said.

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