Amanda Makes An Offer
From Create Your Own Story
m |
Iliekberks (Talk | contribs) |
||
| Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
| - | + | Mike mopped up the last of the gravy on his plate with the crust of his bread and popped it into his mouth. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at his wife. “So, Paul gets in tomorrow huh?” He asked, pushing back a bit from the table. | |
| + | |||
| + | Amanda looked up at him from her own plate, pushing a lock of her blonde hair back out of her eyes. She nodded. “Sometime around two I think. “ | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Is Cassie coming with him?” Sara asked. She took a break from aimlessly pushing her lima beans around her plate and regarded her mother hopefully. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Of course sweetie,” her mother answered. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “But if you don’t finish those beans you don’t get to see her.” Mike interjected with mock severity. “I’ll have to lock you up in the basement with them till they’re gone.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | The girl just rolled her eyes and shoveled a spoonful of the hated limas into her mouth and swallowed them as quickly as possible. Mike turned back to his wife with a suppressed chuckle. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I guess you’ll be glad to have him back finally.” He said. “At least he’s free from that hooker he married.” From across the table his son Ben snorted a laugh and choked on his milk, spitting it out onto his plate. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Mike, Really!” Amanda chided him, handing Ben the roll of paper towels. “Ignore your father, kids. Your aunt Cherie isn’t a hooker.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Mike shrugged and held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right, you’re right. Technically hookers get paid.” He said, with a wink at his son. Amanda just sighed and shook her head. Both kids giggled quietly. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Sara slid her now empty plate forward and placed her silverware on it with finality. “They’re gone” she said. The disgust in her voice was obvious, but her pretty blue eyes flashed triumphantly. “Can I be excused now?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Mike inspected the plate suspiciously, lifting the edge and peering underneath. He nodded approvingly. “So they are. Off you go then.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | She quickly bounced out of her chair and toward the stairs before another serving could manifest itself on her plate. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Make sure that room is cleaned up before you get ready for bed. “ Mike called after her. “Cassie’s going to need a place to sleep.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Okay!” She called back, feet thudding across the floor as she ran to her room. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Honestly, sometimes I don’t know if she’s a twelve year old or a herd of elephants.” Amanda mused, collecting up the plates into a stack. “Ok Ben, your turn to clean up tonight.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ben nodded and took the stack from his mother, adding his own plate to it. “Sure mom.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Amanda moved behind her husband and bent down, wrapping her arms around his neck. He turned his head and kissed her. Even after twenty years of marriage, she never failed to get his heart racing. As soon as Ben had left the room she whispered in his ear. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I’ve got something to talk to you about tonight.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | He arched an eyebrow, and searched her eyes for some hint of what she meant. Normally, “we need to talk” was a cue to Mike that he probably should be ready to apologize for something. This time though as far as he could remember he’d been good. Well, relatively. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Like what?” He asked. Her eyes sparkled mischievously; icy blue, the same as her daughter’s. | ||
| + | |||
| + | She bent down and nuzzled his neck. “Oh, stuff.” She said, and then nibbled on his ear. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Hmm,” Mike growled softly. “I like stuff.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | He reached up to touch her but she moved gracefully out of his grasp, trailing her fingers tantalizingly down his shoulder as she sashayed to the stairs. | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | ::*[[Follow Her Upstairs|Follow Her Upstairs]] | ||
| - | |||
| - | |||
| - | |||
---- | ---- | ||
[[Homecoming|Back to the start]] | [[Homecoming|Back to the start]] | ||
| + | ---- | ||
[[Category:Homecoming]] | [[Category:Homecoming]] | ||
Revision as of 03:45, 17 February 2014
Mike mopped up the last of the gravy on his plate with the crust of his bread and popped it into his mouth. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at his wife. “So, Paul gets in tomorrow huh?” He asked, pushing back a bit from the table.
Amanda looked up at him from her own plate, pushing a lock of her blonde hair back out of her eyes. She nodded. “Sometime around two I think. “
“Is Cassie coming with him?” Sara asked. She took a break from aimlessly pushing her lima beans around her plate and regarded her mother hopefully.
“Of course sweetie,” her mother answered.
“But if you don’t finish those beans you don’t get to see her.” Mike interjected with mock severity. “I’ll have to lock you up in the basement with them till they’re gone.”
The girl just rolled her eyes and shoveled a spoonful of the hated limas into her mouth and swallowed them as quickly as possible. Mike turned back to his wife with a suppressed chuckle.
“I guess you’ll be glad to have him back finally.” He said. “At least he’s free from that hooker he married.” From across the table his son Ben snorted a laugh and choked on his milk, spitting it out onto his plate.
“Mike, Really!” Amanda chided him, handing Ben the roll of paper towels. “Ignore your father, kids. Your aunt Cherie isn’t a hooker.”
Mike shrugged and held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right, you’re right. Technically hookers get paid.” He said, with a wink at his son. Amanda just sighed and shook her head. Both kids giggled quietly.
Sara slid her now empty plate forward and placed her silverware on it with finality. “They’re gone” she said. The disgust in her voice was obvious, but her pretty blue eyes flashed triumphantly. “Can I be excused now?”
Mike inspected the plate suspiciously, lifting the edge and peering underneath. He nodded approvingly. “So they are. Off you go then.”
She quickly bounced out of her chair and toward the stairs before another serving could manifest itself on her plate.
“Make sure that room is cleaned up before you get ready for bed. “ Mike called after her. “Cassie’s going to need a place to sleep.”
“Okay!” She called back, feet thudding across the floor as she ran to her room.
“Honestly, sometimes I don’t know if she’s a twelve year old or a herd of elephants.” Amanda mused, collecting up the plates into a stack. “Ok Ben, your turn to clean up tonight.”
Ben nodded and took the stack from his mother, adding his own plate to it. “Sure mom.”
Amanda moved behind her husband and bent down, wrapping her arms around his neck. He turned his head and kissed her. Even after twenty years of marriage, she never failed to get his heart racing. As soon as Ben had left the room she whispered in his ear.
“I’ve got something to talk to you about tonight.”
He arched an eyebrow, and searched her eyes for some hint of what she meant. Normally, “we need to talk” was a cue to Mike that he probably should be ready to apologize for something. This time though as far as he could remember he’d been good. Well, relatively.
“Like what?” He asked. Her eyes sparkled mischievously; icy blue, the same as her daughter’s.
She bent down and nuzzled his neck. “Oh, stuff.” She said, and then nibbled on his ear.
“Hmm,” Mike growled softly. “I like stuff.”
He reached up to touch her but she moved gracefully out of his grasp, trailing her fingers tantalizingly down his shoulder as she sashayed to the stairs.
