Nothing looked sexier on a Friday afternoon, than him in my kitchen wearing a pair of white sweatpants and a crisp white t-shirt that I’d washed with this week's load. I'd gladly pay my weight in gold to have this picture displayed before me more than once a week. But if a piece of Khembrell Watts was all that was available, it would have to suffice.
“What you starin at?” He slid those sexy honey drop eyes across the kitchen at me as I sat perched up on one of the leather barstools that came with the expensive ass dinette set he'd bought me to replace the one I'd been holding onto since before we met. It was the first piece of furniture I’d ever bought for myself, and I was proud of it—even if it did come from Goodwill. I can vividly remember Khem cursing that raggedy wooden thing out the first night he came over and decided it would be a nice place to eat my pussy. It was a miracle neither of us broke any bones when the poor table collapsed to the floor, only halting the sexual escapades that still took place that night.
“You know what I'm starin at.” I bit down on my lip, eyes fixed on the bulge at the front of his sweats, heat pooling in my pelvis as he reached in his leather bag to pull out his grandmother's cast iron skillet. “And why do you keep bringin that skillet over here?” I asked, that warm pooling now slightly cooled at the sight of that thing. “I just bought a new set of pots. I was hopin you could break em in.”
He looked at me and shook his head. “You know I can’t fry chicken in just any old pan.” He said, carefully placing the skillet on top of my stove. “I'm sure your pots are nice, baby, but they ain’t Sasha Fry.”
Yes, Sasha Fry. As if it wasn’t strange enough for a grown man to have a pet skillet, he actually had a name for the damn thing. Though he said the name was given by his grandmother, it still didn’t make it any less strange.
“Stop poutin and bring your fine ass over here.” He commanded, reigniting that heat in my pelvis as he filled the skillet halfway with vegetable oil. “There’s two things I need when I’m in this kitchen, and that’s this skillet and a hand fulla you.”
I tiptoed over to him, unable to deny any request coming from those succulent, butter pecan lips. It was a damn shame to be this weak behind a man.
And I knew it.
I just couldn't help myself.
“You been eatin butterscotch?” He asked after slowly sliding his lips down the length of my tongue. His arm draped around my waist, palm gripping the roundness of my ass, pulling me so close to him I could feel the muscles in his abdomen clenching.
“No.” I purred against his juicy lips. “You know I just taste sweet naturally.” I ran my tongue across my teeth as he brought his mouth back to mine.
Khem pulled me in against him, chest to chest, as he moved us a few steps away from the stove where the flame under Sasha Fry was heating the oil just as quickly as Khem's throbbing erection was heating me. I was soaking wet beneath my cotton shorts with no panties in the way as he pulled at them, tugging them against my clit and up between my ass cheeks. I draped my arms up over his shoulders, sucking down the stretch of his long caramel neck, grinding against his growing erection as the cooking oil bubbled behind us.
“Baby, the oil.” I whispered in his ear. He lifted me off the floor and wrapped my legs around his waist. Khem was so used to handling my tiny frame, I was like a feather in his embrace.
He pecked my lips then pulled away to watch me squirm, activating those deep dimples as he made his way to the bag of seasoned and floured chicken he'd already prepped.
“So, you gone fuck me while you fry this chicken?” I smiled, holding on tight to his shoulders as he meticulously dropped one drumstick at a time into the hot oil while still holding me up around his waist.
“You damn right I'ma fuck you while I'm fryin this chicken.” He dropped the last piece in and rushed us over to the sink to rinse the flour off his hand.
My body tingled as he brought that wet hand under my t-shirt, massaging my titties as he rested my bottom on the countertop. “You losin faith in my ability to multitask?” He mumbled against my neck, the rumbling in his voice sending chills down my spine.
“Never, baby.” I raised my hips against him, enjoying the coolness of the counter’s surface against the back of my thighs. “I missed you so fuckin much.”
“I missed you too, Mama.” He moaned, tugging at the waistband of my shorts, his flesh poking out against his sweats like a pole beneath a sheet. “I'm bout to tear this pussy up.”
“Daddy! Mama! What the?”
My nipples never went soft so fast in my damn life! Every aroused part of my body went straight to church.
“Khassidy, what you doin here?” Khem squeaked, quickly fixing his sweats while I fixed my shorts. “I thought you said she was out.” He helped me down from the counter, rubbing his hand down his face as our twelve-year-old daughter looked at us in disgust.
“I thought she was.” I bucked my eyes at Khassidy. “Khas, what happened? Wasn’t Veda supposed to be pickin you up to go to the movies with Shay?”
“She canceled.” She answered, her face still covered in ewww. “So, this is what y’all do when I'm gone?” She folded her arms, smiling and looking just like her daddy, dimples and all. “Daddy, I can still see you over there.” She teased as Khem forked chicken onto the paper towels he'd laid in a long pan at the center of the stovetop.
“Good.” He glanced up at his baby girl. “Now come set the table.”
Khassidy walked into the kitchen, keeping her arms folded tight, over exaggerating how grossed out she was by catching her parents in the act.
“I'm gonna go hop in the shower.” I announced, bumping Khassidy's hip on my way out of the kitchen.
“Please do.” She snickered. “And you too, Daddy. But not at the same time.” She joked.
“Aye, watch it.” Khem turned to face her after dropping the last half of his famous fried chicken into the bubbling oil. “You might be growin, but you ain’t grown.” He pulled her in and kissed her forehead. “Sorry you saw that, though, baby girl.” I heard him whisper an apology. Khem was by no means a perfect man, but he never wanted to embarrass or disappoint Khassidy.
“Dinner was good.” I curled up against Khem in the dark of night, trailing my freshly manicured nails down the center of his chiseled abs.
“Dessert was better.” He turned his head to the side and kissed my lips, reaching over me to grab my leg and drape it across his waist. “You ready to feed me again?” He whispered against my ear, the soft wetness of his lips would’ve melted my clothes off¬—if I was wearing any.
I didn’t pull away, nor was I receptive to Khem’s advances. There was more on my mind than a round three could fix. For the duration of our nearly fifteen-year long on again-off again relationship, sex was the driving force and I never questioned it more than I had been questioning it lately. Khassidy was getting older, approaching the age when girls start to take interest in boys and look to their fathers as an example of how a boy is supposed to treat her. It probably didn’t seem like such a big deal to Khem, since he was a man and saw things from a completely different perspective. But I knew first-hand how the absence of a father, be it long-term or short, could mold the way a young lady navigates her way through the dating world. Truth be told, the absence of my own father is probably what led me to the arms of a man who couldn’t be there for me full time.
“Actually, I was thinking maybe we could talk.” I said, raising my head from Khem’s chest to look into his eyes. He was visibly annoyed, turning his head the other way and reaching over on the nightstand to grab his phone to check an incoming text message. “I’m serious, Khem.” I sat my head up further, trying my best to see who the hell was texting him after midnight.
“Go.” He turned his eyes back to me, folding his hands under his head as he lay back on the pillow after dropping his phone face-down on the nightstand.
“Who was that?” I asked, unable to hide my curiosity.
“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” He tilted his head down.
“It is now.” I tilted my head up at him.
“Pssh, here we go.” He blew out a breath, pulling his hands from under his head and folding them across his chest.
“You ain’t gotta do all that.” I rolled my eyes. “You act like I’m outta line for wanting to know who’s intruding on my time. Don’t your hoes know your schedule?”
He sighed, taking his eyes up to the spinning ceiling fan instead of at me. “That ceiling fan sayin somethin?” I sat straight up and folded my legs Indian style. My naked breasts glowed in the moonlight, and Khem couldn’t help but stare at them.
“Why you startin, Camille?” He asked, trailing his eyes up from my nipples. “I thought we were havin a good day, now you wanna start this shit.”
“We always have a good day.” I returned, pulling the covers up over the front of me. He didn’t deserve to see my body while I was this upset. “And that’s only because a day is all you ever have.”
“So that’s what this is about? We ain’t talked this shit to death yet? You know what it is. It’s what it’s always been. I take care of you and Khassidy and I come by when I can.”
“Yeah, well maybe that ain’t enough no more.” I wrapped my arms across my chest to pull the covers tighter. “I’m thirty-three years old settling for a portion of a man, and our daughter is watchin me do it. Don’t that mean anything to you, Khem? How would you feel if some nigga was askin Khas to settle for a portion of him?”
“I’m not doin this.” He flipped the comforter off, exposing his naked thighs, and climbed out of the bed, his thick, muscly silhouette rushed to the foot of my bed to grab his clothes off the chase.
“So, you leavin?” I turned to face him, raising up onto my knees, still holding the covers in place on my body. “I say somethin you don’t like and you just leave? That’s real convenient.” My voice trembled as I followed his every move in the darkness my eyes had adjusted to. “And what about Khassidy? She expects you to be here to help her cook breakfast in that damn skillet in the morning.”
He ignored me and kept putting on his clothes. He’d gotten all the way to the last shoe on his feet before I leaped out of the bed and ran over to where he was.
“Stop!” I screamed in his face, standing naked with my back against the bedroom door. “Don’t walk out this door, Khembrell.” I grabbed him by the face and forced him to look into my eyes.
“I’m not tryna fight with you.” He spoke softly, his breath whistling across my nose like the wind outside my bedroom window. “I’m givin you all I got. I can’t give you no more than that. If you want it, take it. If you don’t, let me go.”
I lowered my hand from his face and landed it right in the palm of his hand, pulling his arm around my waist, excited by the contact of his skin to my skin. He didn’t need my guidance to rope his other arm around me, lifting me off the floor and carrying me back to the bed. Khem laid me on my back and spread my legs apart, then commenced to having me for dessert… again.