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“I’d love to, Savannah. I don’t have a family to visit. Thanks for inviting me.”
He turns and leaves for work, leaving me in my pajamas in my kitchen and wondering how I’m going to get through a boring workday with the possibility of hot sex and family dinner with him this week?
November 24 – Wilder
“That smells good, Heather,” I say, my mouth watering. I’m not lying. It smells glorious. “Can I help?”
She waves me out of the kitchen and takes a large swig of wine. “Go spend time with Savannah. After all, you only have three months left before your contract is up,” she says with a smile. “Everything is almost ready.”
Is she happily teasing me, or was that a dig at the fact that I made her daughter sign a contract for our cuffing season?
I nod and grab a handful of crackers and olives from the charcuterie board before moseying into the living room where Savannah’s watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade with Aiden. Aiden sits in the recliner, waving like he’s on a parade float and laughing hysterically at himself while Savannah simply stares at him. The look on her face makes a chuckle rise in my chest, and I cover my mouth to hold in the snort.
“Olive?” I ask, holding out my hand. She plucks an olive from my palm and pops it in her mouth.
“Please tell me my mother needs help in the kitchen.”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “She said to enjoy ourselves out here. You told her about the contract?”
Before she can answer, Aiden turns and smiles at me. “Next-level genius, bro. Clean break. I should have thought of that.” He holds out a fist for me to bump, but I ignore him.
Savannah reddens and sinks into the couch cushion, even pulling a throw pillow over her stomach like she can hide behind it. “It’s not a big deal that people know, Wilder. I didn’t know it was a secret.”
“It’s not,” I say, shaking my head. “Just out of curiosity, how many people we talking?”
“Mom. Melissa.” She looks at Aiden and forces a smile. “Apparently, Aiden is aware of our situation.”
“Do your people at work know?” I ask, suddenly curious how the holiday party with her coworkers in a few weeks will go.
“No,” she snorts, and a little spit comes from her mouth. “God, can you imagine the gossip? You’d be the shining star of the holiday party. You probably will be, anyway. Lord knows, nobody there thinks I can pull someone so hot.” She rubs her hand over my thigh, and my body tightens. “Incidentally, why does it bother you that my mother knows?”
Why does it bother me that Heather knows? I’ve never cared what a parent thought before, even if they did know about the contract. A lot of women didn’t tell their parents about signing something so stupid, but I know 2022’s mother thought it was juvenile and mean. Something about Savannah’s mom knowing about the contract rubs me the wrong way. It feels a little like someone just slipped something cold down my back.
“It doesn’t bother me.” I shrug and sit next to Savannah on the couch, putting my arm around her and pulling her to my chest. “Did you think you were in trouble?” I whisper.
“Are you going to spank me later?” she asks and immediately blushes like she wants to put the words back in her mouth.
“If you want me to pull your panties down and spank you, I can make that happen. Look who’s opening up a bit with me,” I coo in her ear before kissing the tip of it.
Savannah really has opened up in the last few days. We’ve had more sex, and she’s even let me teach her new-to-her positions. She’d never been taken from behind, and she now prefers it, begging and whimpering for me to turn her over. She’s even wanton enough with me to rub her hand over her clit while I take her. I’ve learned her body and its reactions, just as she’s learning mine.
“Dinner!” Heather calls, and the three of us get up from our seats and stomp into the dining room that’s beautifully decorated for the occasion.
I’ve been in some nice homes for Thanksgiving over the past few years, but Heather’s food is the most magnificent and decadent I’ve ever seen. The browned turkey practically weeps with glaze, cranberry sauce with whole berries sits in individual containers at each place setting of expensive-looking dishware, and two large vegetable casseroles, one green bean, one broccoli, are on either side of the pans of stuffing and mashed potatoes.
Heather passes me a breadbasket full of biscuits, rolls, and cornbread and smiles at me. “Are you having a nice cuffing season?”
Before I can answer, Savannah clears her throat next to me. “Are you, Mom?”
Heather’s smile falters. “I’m just making conversation, Savannah. It’s dinner.”
“Yes, Mom, but you agreed not to meddle in my love life if I had a cuffing season partner. You’re meddling.”
I wisely close my mouth, happy to watch the exchange between Savannah and her mother and not be the center of attention. Across the table from me, Aiden loads a wad of mashed potatoes on his plate and then squirts ketchup on top of them, ignoring the gravy Heather attempts to pass him. The ketchup bottle makes a farting sound when he squeezes it. He looks around the table, giggles, and excuses himself as Savannah blows out a sigh. At the end of the table, Heather laughs like Aiden’s fart joke is the funniest she’s ever heard.
Once her laughter subsides, Heather shakes her head, remembering the conversation. “You’re right, Savannah,” she says. “I was just hoping you and Wilder are enjoying cuffing as much as Aiden and me.”
“Oh, I’m enjoying it,” Aiden says, talking with his mouth full. “Your mom is a hot piece of...”
