Little Sissy Of Mistress 3
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DreamWeaverChapter 20 free porn video
The next morning, we decided to sleep in and ignore the world for a little while longer. I opened my eyes to find her studying her new ring with a smile on her face.
“Penny for your thoughts,” I said softly.
She looked over at me and her smile broadened.
“I was just wondering how I got to be so lucky,” she whispered back.
“We both got lucky,” I said solemnly. “I love you, Melody. I’ll never stop, and I’ll never take you for granted.”
She smiled, basking in the warmth of our commitment to each other.
“I love you, Rand. No matter what happens, I’ll never run away from you again. You’re my lover, my best friend, and from now on, we face everything together.”
She hugged me tight to punctuate her words. I held her, and we let our thoughts drift even as we slowly woke up without worrying about schedules or anything else. When we were showered and dressed, we called the house to find out what May, Glen and Beth had planned.
“Glen’s camped out in the basement,” May told us, amused. “He’s fiddling with the new toy you bought him. Beth’s off spending some time with Roger, since he’s working a night shift tonight. You two are welcome to come spend the day here. There’s still days of leftovers that we have to eat, and I’d like to spend some more time with the two of you before you have to leave.”
“There’s nothing we’d rather do,” I assured her. “We’ll bring our appetites and see you soon.”
We spent the afternoon with May and Glen, much as we had on Christmas Eve, except it was more casual since our baking and cooking was done. Glen and I opened a lot of the stuff for his sand table and I helped him put a start on the battlefield. May and Mel talked a lot about things that I wasn’t told much about, but it was probably the most embarrassing stories she knew about me, since Mel would need that ammunition for when my head got too big.
We ate a late lunch together and I focused a little more on sides than turkey. I’d been neglecting my workout, the past couple of days, so I wanted to balance it out by getting more vegetables into my system. The four of us sat in the den and watched a war movie that Glen had in his collection. May and I had both seen it before, but it was new to Mel. She hadn’t had a thorough grounding in World War Two history, so she asked a fair number of questions.
“I’m sorry!” she said sheepishly. “I took world geography instead of history in high school. I gave it up because we never discussed anything that happened in the past century. It was always George Washington and crap like that. The kind of stuff where the people who were there have been dead for so long that they were dead before the oldest person alive now was born. I skipped taking it in high school because I figured it’d be three more years of the same boring stories. There are still people that remember this. Why don’t they ever teach us this in school? Seriously! Who cares what happened in the War of 1812? It was over 200 years ago. This is stuff they could be teaching us that people would want to know - and they’re not.”
She trailed off and realized that she was getting upset about it.
“Sorry,” she repeated. “It just seems like this is way more important, and no one ever thought to teach it.”
I nodded. I remembered getting lectures on Paul Revere, and Washington, and Franklin, so I knew what she meant.
“I tend to agree,” I said lightly. “The history we learned in school was carefully sanitized. They talked a lot about the Civil War, but they never discuss Normandy, or anything from World War Two. I think a lot of that might have to do with photography, though.”
“Photography?” Glen asked skeptically.
This was the first time we’d talked about history, or much of anything.
“A lot of the war was documented on film and that was the first time there was that clear a picture of war. The Holocaust left us with pictures of bodies being bulldozed into mass graves, emaciated victims who might as well have been dead and even worse. With those older wars, there’s only really paintings and a few grainy photos. They can make it seem cleaner, so it’s more comfortable to teach, especially to kids.”
“I suppose that makes some sense. You wouldn’t want an eight-year-old looking at some of those images or really reading too much about those atrocities. I still think they could find a way to teach a lot of the foundations of the war. I’m surprised that you know so much about it,” Glen commented. “I never pegged you as a war buff.”
“I’m not, really, but I took a class in college, for the same reason Mel didn’t take History in high school. There were a lot of questions about that era that are in sort of a taboo blind-spot. The evil of the Nazi’s is glazed over quite a bit because the reality was so much worse than what Hollywood or documentaries can show. Although ‘Band of Brothers’ gave a good snapshot of it.”
He nodded, and we decided to let Mel have the remote, so she could pause and ask questions freely. If Glen hadn’t been completely charmed by her before, this would have cemented it for him. He got to play teacher for the afternoon, and she paid him more attention than any of her teachers probably got from her during her whole senior year. Beth came in while we were still watching the movie. Mel was quizzing Glen on points of history and was really getting into the details.
“How long has this been going on?” she asked, slipping onto the end of the sofa beside me and watching Mel and her father talk animatedly about the movie.
“A while,” I admitted. “I hope you wanted a little sister because she’s already got your dad wrapped around her little finger.”
“I can see that,” she chuckled quietly. “I’d better start packing, so she can have my room.”
“I don’t think you need to go that far,” Mel said, turning toward us with a grin. “Next time though, we’ll probably just stay here, if there’s room, rather than go to the hassle of a hotel.”
“You were welcome to stay here this time,” May said. “I understand why you didn’t, but next time, just show up here and we’ll get the bed made up for you.”
Mel beamed at her in gratitude, and it was decided right there that would be our Christmas tradition. I had two choices. Support the idea enthusiastically, or protest and be overridden. I wasn’t in the mood to protest. It was actually the most pleasant Christmas since I’d first come home with Beth.
We watched another movie after dinner, and it took twice as long to watch because we stopped for questions. I was surprised that we were all enjoying the movie more, specifically because of the discussions; we said goodnight to everyone when it started getting late.
Surprisingly, neither of us was feeling horny tonight. We were mellow and loving and interested in cuddling together a lot more than fucking. I had the feeling that we were saving that for Washington. We were taking everyone out for an early supper the following day, since Roger would be working nights. We wanted to celebrate our last full day with the Calders.
The next morning, I got up and went to the gym early, wanting to do a couple of lengthy workouts to make up for my lapse in gym time and diet for the last few days. I went heavy on cardio and mostly had the gym to myself, owing to the holidays. I returned to the hotel close to lunch time to find Mel bustling around the suite, organizing a few things to get ready.
“Hey, Babe!” she said with a grin. “Good workout?”
“Yes, I wish they had a decent stair-climber, but they’re a lot heavier on free-weights than machines. What are you up to?”
“Making sure we’re ready for tomorrow,” she said lightly. “Strip those off so I can send them down to the laundry. I’ve got all our laundry ready for them to do before we have to pack tonight. Wear your black suit for tonight.”
I smiled and stripped off my workout gear, setting my shoes aside to dry. I’d put a dryer sheet in each one before they were packed so they wouldn’t stink up my luggage. It was a trick Craig had told me about for when he traveled for competitions. I had a bag to seal them in, but the dryer sheet helped keep any gym smells from penetrating the rest of the luggage. I made a playful grab at her, making her shriek and jump away from me.
“Go shower!” she scolded me with a giggle, staying out of my reach, and pointing towards the bathroom.
I chuckled, and she followed me into the bathroom.
“Do you want me to order lunch or do you want to wait until dinner?” she asked as I started the water.
“Have you eaten?” I asked curiously.
“Not yet. I was waiting for you.”
“Then why don’t you order for both of us?” I suggested. “Just not turkey.”
She laughed.
“No, I think we’ve had enough turkey for now. How about I order us something light like salad?”
“That’s perfect,” I admitted, and got under the spray of the shower, letting the hot water cascade over me.
“You know you look like a Calvin Klein ad, right?” she asked with a smirk on her lips as she watched the water pour over me.
“Having second thoughts about lunch?” I asked, turning toward her and making the pose far more lewd.
“Not really,” she said. “There’s too much to do to leave it all for tomorrow.”
She blew me a kiss and then retreated from the bathroom and called to have the laundry picked up and order lunch. By the time I was done, the laundry had been whisked away to be done so it’d be ready for us before we left tomorrow. We could have just bagged it and had it done when we got to Washington, but she was right about getting it done now. I threw on a robe, rather than get dressed this early, and curled up with her for a few spare minutes between tasks. She kissed me and settled in with me, finally relaxing.
“Melody Dunn,” she commented softly, trying the name on for the first time.
“Has a nice sound to it,” I told her.
She made an approving sound and snuggled into my arms more comfortably.
“This week went really well, didn’t it?”
“They love you,” I told her. “Even Beth was charmed by you, once she regained consciousness. I have a lot to live up to with your folks. Will you still respect me if none of them pass out?”
She snickered about that. “I can think of ways you could knock Allison out, if she doesn’t collapse the first time she sees you.”
“Things have changed though,” I said. “I’m not just your boyfriend anymore. We’re engaged now. If she seriously tries to get into my pants, then I may knock her out in a less fun way.”
Lunch arrived shortly after that and we fell on it, hungered by our mornings of activity. I finally got dressed, and we spent a little time surfing the TV channels again before it was time to go. We were meeting at a trendy restaurant and it was a first time for everyone there. We arrived first and were told that there was a three hour wait for our table.
“Unacceptable,” Mel said haughtily, her trophy wife image rising to the occasion. “I made these reservations two weeks ago. A few minutes delay is understandable, but three hours? Do you expect us to stand here like mannequins, advertising for you? My fiancé and I came here, expecting to be seated, not stand around so you can get some mileage out of having two of the most attractive people in the city in your place.”
I ignored the exchange, looking bored. Instead, I pulled out my phone and went to the restaurant app that we’d used to find the place and gave it the lowest rating possible. I wrote a brief review that said that a 3-hour delay was just a shameless attempt to extort bribes to get in the door for food that was probably about the same quality as a TV dinner. As soon as I posted the review, there was a ping from the tablet the greeter was using for scheduling. She looked at it, and then at me. I gave her a bland smile.
“When the rest of our party gets here, and we explain the details, I’m sure there’ll be at least two more reviews like that,” I told her.
I showed Mel the review I posted, and she nodded, digging for her own phone.
“I apologize for the delay, but if you wanted to wait at the bar, we’ll be happy to have you paged as soon as your table is available,” she offered.
“Which will be in about three hours, right?” I asked flatly. “Firstly, we made these reservations for early dinner because it was the only time of day when all of our guests could be available. Second, your offer to let us rot at the bar is specifically to keep us from making a scene and letting the other patrons know just how unreliable a reservation here really is. I could call at least four restaurants and have a table as soon as I arrived, but instead, we decided to give this place a try since it was new and supposedly trendy. Finally, not all our party is legal age to drink. What would you like them to do while you make us stew half-way to close? Stand by the dumpsters out back until you get around to seating us?”
Elle
- 14.05.2020
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