“Son, do you not hear these ladies, it smells like you took a torch to a plastic bottle in here. Denise, Chinese.”
“I’m sure that I can salvage the bird. We can just cut around this giblet thing.”
“That’s not how this works, Dean, I’m going to need you to step away from the bird. Denise, please take the bird out with whatever trash is in the receptacle.”
“But what about all the other food?” Dean asks, looking around the room. “I’m sure we don’t need to order Chinese, we can just eat the sides, right?”
“I haven’t finished all the sides, I was waiting for the turkey. It’s okay, we can pick at the sides all week, and go grab some turkey or chicken tomorrow to make thanksgiving sandwiches.” I tell him.
“Did I ruin thanksgiving?” he asks.
“Well, the bird is ruined.” I reply.
“Yeah, Thanksgiving isn’t ruined.” Maddie says with a smile.
“That’s very true. It’s about the people that you spend it with. You know, like your family. Both blood and chosen,” his mom smiles.
Chapter Eleven
Dean
My lips whisper across her skin as I make my way up her body.
“I need more,” she says in a satisfied breath.
My cock throbs with the need to be situated inside her warmth, the light friction from the blanket as I rutted against it while my tongue explored her silky folds, as she grabbed my hair and pulled when she came.
She squirms underneath my touch as I hover over her. The crown of my cock nudges her entrance, I put all my weight on one arm and fist my cock, holding it and with a light thrust of my hips, I insert my tip in, wet it, then pull back out.
She groans at the loss, but hisses once I do the same move. A moan of pure bliss escapes her lips as I push all the way into her welcoming warmth. I lower myself down and take her lips with mine as our bodies move perfectly together. She wraps her legs around my back and with the heel of her feet, she guides me as I bury my cock to the hilt.
I slow my movements and hold myself over her to watch her. I move the hair off of her face, causing her to open her eyes. With my hips pulling out and pushing back in slowly, I can feel every inch of her. I know when I angle myself in just the right way, it makes her delirious and on the brink of full pleasure. I want to watch her come, I want to watch the ecstasy fill her body and I want to forever be the person to make her feel this way.
A rushing current passes through my body as Kaley clings to me.
“D-D-dean! I’m coming.” She calls out while her body melts into mine.
I don’t think that I can hold back anymore, and once I feel her pussy contract around my shaft, I let go and my orgasm erupts.
We’re both sated and out of breath. I lower myself and kiss her, long and hard. I devour her and pull back a moment later, with us both breathless.
I remove myself from her body and fall beside her on the bed.
We lay beside one another in silence with the moonlight from the drapes creeping into the bedroom.
“Have you ever thought about how weird the alphabet is?” I ask, rolling my head in her direction.
She laughs. “Um, no.”
“Think about it, what’s the point of the letter C and the letter K. They both basically have the same sounds. Then sometimes the letter C sounds like the letter S.”
“Do you think about this often?” she questions.
“I do.” I nod.
“Let’s go a little further. Think about the word road. If you say it by sounding it out, it should be Roe-add, but no. English is funny like that and we say road.”
“Woman, you are blowing my mind.”
“I heard that the true testament of a relationship is the moments that happen after sex,” she grins.
“Oh yeah? And what do our moments after sex imply to you?”
“That we have some damn sweet pillow-talk.”
Epilogue
2 years Later
Kaley
The relationship with my parents hasn’t improved since the night they left my apartment after they disowned me. Although my sister was the one who told them about the little white lie that I pulled Dean into, my relationship with her has never been better.
I became my little sister’s confidant. She called me, emailed me, and even came to see me a few times.
She worked her tail off in school and did exactly what I suggested that she do. Then when our parents presented her acceptance letter into the school they applied for on her behalf, she gave them the news that she was accepted to U of Seattle along with a few other colleges.
Dean and I showed up that night and brought her home with us, and she hasn’t looked back.
She’s now about to start her second semester as a freshman with the intention to major in child psychology and I couldn’t be prouder of her, of us.
After Dean and I graduated and I got a job at the college. I started working for the athletic department. Dean took a job with the City of Seattle, and is planning on working his way up to become a city manager while working on his Masters. He had scouts for the NFL trying to get him into the draft, but he passed on the chance since he didn’t want his life to be all about sports.
We didn’t stay in the apartment that my parents were paying for long after the Thanksgiving that we never speak of.
Once the holidays were over, we rented a simple one bedroom for about a year. And I got a job working in a long-term care facility creating nutritional programs for the residents. After a year of renting, Dean’s parents surprised us with putting a down payment on a home for us, and that’s where we currently live with my little sister renting a bedroom from us.
Our relationship has been perfect. I learned along the way that I purposely didn’t date once Dean moved in, because part of me was pining for him. Hoping that he would see me how I saw him. Which ultimately, he admitted that he had from the get-go. It only took my crazy idea to make our innermost wants into a reality.
I’m sitting at the window seat in our living room watching the rain fall when Dean takes a seat across from me.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“Just checking out the world.” I tell him.
“Anything interesting happening out there?”
“Just that we probably need to get new rain gutters soon.” I look to him.
“I’ll look into it. Maybe someone will have some Black Friday sale or something tomorrow.”
“When are your parents getting here?” I ask.
“They’ll be here in about an hour.” He tells me.
I love his parents. When Denise and I lived together, they had ordered us a meal kit that would come to our house. After our first Thanksgiving together, they bought Dean and I, for Christmas, cooking classes for six weeks. I’m assuming poking fun at Dean, but we really learned a lot from the classes.
We took last year off of Thanksgiving and went to his parents’ house, but this year we are attempting to give hosting the holiday another go. Dean woke me up in what felt like the middle of the night when he prepped the turkey and put it in the oven. All so, I could see that he took out the bag of gizzards this time.