Not Living on Sponge Cake Alone
Chapter 14

Copyright© 2014 by Jerrod

Thursday

Last night ended in a peaceful way. Of course, at 12:06 am an incessant pounding on my chest rudely awakened me from a wonderful dream. I heard, “one guess”.

“Guess what?” again sounded.

“What? Go back to sleep!”

“Guess?”

“Dewey won the election.”

“Nah, Eric Dewey is a Dweeb, besides no one wants him as Class President next year!”

“Ahh wrong Dewey Hon. Go back to sleep!”

“You are the most, awful, worst kind of...”

“Happy Birthday, Love! Now go back to sleep.” That got me two wet kisses and a warm body almost lying on top of me. Am I complaining? No sir re Bobby. A little later, my other girls gave me a kiss or a pat when they started their day. Mandy and I were still in bed, and she wanted to talk.

“Do you really love me?”

“Well now that you’re an ‘older’ woman, I guess I need to say something to you. Mandy I keep you around because you are ... such a great deep sea-fishing partner. The fact that you are beautiful, a pleasure to be with, a superb sex kitten and that I love you very much has little to do with it.”

I had to ask myself why do women cry and how is a guy supposed to know if they are happy or sad tears. I took my little (Not on top) mistress in my arms and held her tight. “You know even though you are so ‘old’ today, you still need your mother’s OK for us to get married, don’t you?”

The resultant scream had to shatter glass and was at least 50 decibels above any EPA guideline. The next scream, “MOM”, broke that 50 mark and I just knew hearing today was going to be problematic. I was glad she was the one taking the test today. Kidding, I might eventually hear. While Mom was on her way. I took the small box, opened it and said, “In case your Mom says OK, will you marry me?” Wrong, wrong, wrong thing to do. Her next set of screams put that sonic sound generator the Army had to shame. There would be no doubt in anyone’s mind whole divisions would be incapacitated by those screams. Not only did all my girls come racing back to bed, but three guards, two new dogs, Mike, Pete and Colin followed by Monique and Bridget stood in the room. Never at a loss for words, Sheila, in her steady business voice asked, “What’s wrong Hon?”

“Wrong, wrong, wrong why nothing, really, if you say I can be Mrs. Steve Simon, remember, before you answer, I can ‘punish’ you, severely if necessary. Steve asked me to marry him?”

From the look on a couple of faces, it looked like a conversion to becoming a Moslem had better happen sooner than later. Monique and Bridget had never seen the ‘playpen’ nor the attire or lack of one we subscribed to. My call for breakfast was totally ignored by everyone. Monique and Bridget joined the girls to Oh and Ahh at Mandy’s engagement ring. Another feeble call for breakfast was now lost in the yelling and screaming.

Breakfast was going to be late today. There seemed to be some sort of secret conversation, in code even, between Mistress and her girls (Her Mom too). I did hear a few tidbits; questions rather about Monica’s or The Club, then could not make out more. My comment that the Parent (This case) of the Bride had to pay for all the bills was lost on deaf ears as was the statement that if we took any honeymoon it would be to fish. Nope, not any reaction from that. It looked like everyone was staying home today too since I heard those magic words that men since time began have longed to hear, “FOOD!”

 
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