Variation on a Theme, Book 6
Copyright© 2024 by Grey Wolf
Chapter 105: Naked Breakfast
Sunday, March 2, 1986
Darla didn’t wake me during the night. I think we both slept like rocks, but perhaps she woke and went back to sleep.
I woke first and gave her some time, then started petting her hair. She eventually blinked awake.
“Oh!” she said. “I was having a wonderful dream.”
“You were?” I said, smiling and kissing her forehead.
“Uh-huh. There was fucking, and snuggling, and ... well. It seems to have come true!”
I chuckled a bit, and then we kissed.
She shifted, then said, “Ouch! I guess I will be sore!”
“Hopefully not too badly.”
She giggled.
“We’re very much in ‘badge of honor’ territory. Besides ... practice, practice, practice! That’s now officially ‘something I do,’ and I’ll get better at it, most likely.”
“Probably so,” I said, smiling.
We kissed again, and she said, “So ... do I get to get dressed for breakfast? Or am I parading around like this?”
“What do you think?” I said, stroking her hair again.
“Um ... so. It’s Jasmine and her girlfriend. I don’t know her girlfriend, but I couldn’t care less if Jasmine saw me. If you think it’s fine, I think it’s fine.”
“I ... think it’s probably fine.”
“It’s kinda cool, really. Not like I’m going to do this that often, except maybe at home,” she said.
“You do know I have to get dressed.”
She blushed and giggled.
“Um ... yeah. That’s ... kinda ... hot, really.”
“Good girl,” I said, kissing her again.
“Since you’re not, though, we could...”
Well, yes. We could. This time worked out to be more ‘making love’ and less ‘pounding her into the bed.’ I teased her a bit about what it would be like if we went to breakfast with her naked and I hadn’t been using a condom. That set her off rather thoroughly.
We shared a shower afterward, and I got dressed. I just put on a t-shirt, sweatpants, and underwear, though. There was at least a chance that we weren’t done.
By the time we were ready, it was after the time those who were going to church would have left. That made naked breakfast more reasonable.
I also wrote a quick note for Jas and put it on the stairs. Monique deserved a warning about Darla. Darla agreed, so that was that.
Once we got to the kitchen, Darla helped me cook. I only let her help after she put on an apron. We agreed: an otherwise naked girl wearing an apron turned out to be ridiculously sexy. Also, quite possibly, ridiculously sexist, since it had the ‘women belong in the kitchen’ and ‘women are sex objects’ tropes jammed right up against each other. The thing was, we were intentionally using those tropes as fantasy fodder, so it fit. As we’d said before, anyone who confused Darla liking to play with those ideas and Darla believing them would not enjoy the way she would correct such a misperception.
We cooked plenty. I didn’t know if Jas and Monique were still here, but the odds were fairly high that they were. If Jas had taken her home, most likely she would have returned by now.
The two of them turned up about twenty minutes later. I had Darla in my lap, and we were both eating from the same plate.
Monique giggled a bit when they came into the kitchen, and said, “Um ... hi there?”
Darla giggled, too, blushing just a bit, and said, “Hello, yourself!”
“I was prepared for ... you know ... but not the cuteness.”
Jas said, “Oh, they’re cute. You’ll have to deal. We could get as cute.”
“We could,” Monique said. I had the feeling it wasn’t going to happen, but that might be why Monique wasn’t as close to ‘family.’ Not that Darla was going to be, but there was a difference.
We talked over breakfast. Mostly small talk, but it was good. I hadn’t spent much time with Monique. Bisexual or not, and Jas nudging her or not, I wasn’t sure I ever would, either.
It felt like no one really noticed Darla being naked after a few minutes, including Darla herself. It was just part of breakfast.
After we finished, we excused ourselves and headed back to the bedroom. I wound up sitting in a chair with Darla snuggling in my lap.
“That wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as I thought!” she said, giggling.
“Even though you literally have a bare ass,” I said, giving it a squeeze.
She giggled even more, then said, “Not the origin of the word, but it’s one heck of a false etymology!”
“It is!” I said. “For most people, a bare ass causes embarrassment, so ... yeah.”
“Consider the word in Spanish! A bare ass can also lead to pregnancy!”
“Fortunately, we’re prepared on that front!”
“Fortunately! I love you, but ... not planning on having kids with you,” she said.
“That would likely be a bit much.”
“Besides, a little bird tells me you might have a few of those in any case.”
“Not yet, I hope! If I do, it’s news to me,” I said.
“Nah. In the future.”
“In the future, definitely. Or probably definitely.”
“I want kids. Not yours! Mister Right’s! But I want them,” she said.
“Obviously, assuming the birds are right, I do, too.”
“The birds seem quite authoritative.”
“I don’t listen to them. I get in trouble when I do,” I said.
“You are wise! Also, ‘bird’ fits.”
“If you’re English.”
“Or know British English,” she said.
“True enough!”
She grinned and kissed me.
“I think I’m sufficiently sore. We are doing this again, right?”
“Sleeping over? Fucking your ass? Naked breakfast?”
“Yes, yes, and maybe.”
“So ... yes, yes, and maybe.”
She giggled and hugged me.
“Yay! I know we have to end, but ... yeah. I’ve been thinking about that, actually.”
“Me, too.”
“Summer?” she asked.
“Yeah. I don’t know how available I’ll be, but...”
“But I won’t be dating, probably, and ... my old solution ... I don’t like it as much, now, without ... input.”
“We don’t want to get too dependent, but I’m also not going to just leave you in the lurch over some assumed deadline,” I said.
“That’s what I was hoping,” she said. “And expecting, but ... both. I’m staying focused. This is fun, but Mister Right is right. We’re right in a lot of ways, but not the big one.”
“I’m staying focused, too. Sometimes that’s hard, because you are very tempting.”
She giggled and flipped her ponytail a bit.
“I try! I really do!”
“We should get you dressed. The others will be home in a bit. Want to just hang out with us for Sunday studying?”
“That sounds like an excellent idea. That, and I know Jas is going to kidnap and interrogate me,” she said.
“She does that from time to time.”
“She does!”
I took time out from studying mid-afternoon, while Jas was interrogating Darla, and made a bunch of the usual phone calls. Jas joined for some of them, but many were just me.
Marshall was enthusiastic about our possibly being in New Orleans. So were Curtis and Marsha. Gene and Sue were bummed that they wouldn’t be, but were doing great otherwise. The others were, too.
Laura was grumpy about the current state of computer hardware, but that hadn’t changed. She did inadvertently remind me that I had wanted to get a Mac this spring, though. We could use one! Most of the girls would greatly prefer the software on Macs to what was available on PCs in the current day. Windows would change that, eventually, but only slowly.
Jas, Angie, and Paige all joined for the call to Grandmother and Professor Berman. Grandmother was thrilled that the rings were finally off to a jeweler to be redone. She told us in no uncertain terms that she did not want to hear about the new designs.
“I will see them when I do,” she said. “Until then, I will anticipate the joy seeing them will bring. I am so very happy to have such fine granddaughters-in-law joining this family! You did not do this to bring an old woman joy, but you have brought far more than I can express.”
Professor Berman said, “What Jane said. I’m eager to see them, but they will wait, and words won’t do them justice. You have done wonders for both of us, and we are very, very proud — and privileged — to know you.”
The clock was certainly still ticking, but it was ticking more slowly than I had feared. Any day might bring the dreaded call, but I was nearly certain Professor Berman had lived considerably longer this time than in my first life. Angie felt the same. It just hadn’t been a mere two and a half years between their passing, and Grandmother had died in late spring 1988. Again, both Angie and I were as certain of that as we could reasonably be.
This was a different Grandmother, though. The one in my first life had been quite fragile by now. This one? She was frail, but there was a significant difference, I was nearly certain of that.
Angie? Me? All of it? Any of that might explain it. She had more to live for.
I was nearly certain first-life Grandmother could never have traveled to Houston in the summer of 1987. She was much too fragile. This one? It wasn’t impossible. We very much wanted her at our wedding. If she couldn’t travel, though, we would bring a recording of it to her. Very happily, too!
Darla stayed until around five, when I drove her back to Krueger. We parted with a very nice goodnight kiss and promises to see each other in the next few days. Both of us intended to take this coming week off, with one more date before Spring Break. I wasn’t completely sure the every-other-week plan was helping, but it might have been.
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