The Ex-Mermaid

More sex, more humor, more cooking, and only a little bit of Planned Parenthood. The last chapter wasn't very hot, but I hope to make it up to you with this one and the next.Thanks, readers, for following along. I'm having fun exploring all these characters, especially Maria and her mom, so there's some non-fucking paragraphs. But plenty of sex, too, or this wouldn't be a Literotica story.

I woke up curled around Mike, with him cradling my arm again. As soon as I shut my alarm off, I flopped my arm back down around him and he hugged it close. He wiggled his butt back against me, and said, "I gotta get up and brush my teeth. Be right back." He got out of bed and walked to the bathroom, morning wood steering him to the toilet. I enjoyed watching his butt as he walked in to the bathroom. I bet he watched mine the same way.

He flushed, and I heard the water going as he washed and bushed his teeth. He came out, morning wood slightly diminished.

"Don't get dressed. I'll be right back." I stroked his penis and did what he'd done.

When I got back to bed, he was considerably harder. I looked down, approvingly.

"Ooh, getting ready!" I reached down and stroked him, ending with my fingers trailing up his (modest) length and coming together at his tip.

My nipples were beginning to stiffen, too. Mike reached up and brushed his hand over one. It was electric, and I shivered.

"Oh, I hope you're not cold!" I guess goose-bumps and hardening nipples were a clue.

"Hardly. My nipples have always gotten more sensitive when my period is approaching. With you touching them, it's ... wow."

"So it's okay? Stop me if it gets too much."

"Oh yeah, more than okay." I sat down on the bed, turned my body to bring my legs up, and leaned back onto my elbows. Mike continued gently stroking me, watching my responses.

His other hand reached down between my legs, and began massaging my mound. I opened my legs in invitation. My sensitive boobs were responding to Mike's caresses by getting the rest of me ready for sex, as I felt wet, warm, and horny.

He slipped a couple fingers into me and spread some of that wet up into my upper folds. He began rubbing the slicked-up clit in the same little circles that he was tracing my nipples. That had been nice before, but with my improved sensitivity it was way more than nice. I moaned in delight and reached for the box of condoms, tearing one off. There were only two left after this.

Mike put the condom on, and asked "what position do you want?"

"I don't care, as long as you keep playing with my tits. That's amazing."

Mike sat up, cross-legged, with his boner poking up. He reached out his arms. "Sit in my lap, facing me." I did, straddling him. I could feel the length of his penis just outside my pussy lips, and I ground my hips against him, sliding my extra-sensitive clit over him. Mike had one hand on my breast and the other guiding my butt. Once I was in position, he moved his hand over to my other nipple and started circling it.

My pussy was sliding along his condom-covered shaft, wetting its length. I raised up just a little more at the top of a stroke, then reached down and pushed his cock back toward my opening. Mike sighed with pleasure as I sank down onto him. I crossed my legs behind his back and hugged him to me, gently squeezing him with my Kegels.

We kissed like that, holding each other and smiling, staring into each others' eyes. Our bodies were pushed tightly together by my weight on him, and I could feel his pubes tickling the bare skin of my clit hood. Aside from my initial squeezes, our hips were still.

"I love you, Mike."

"And I love you, Maria."

We hugged close, and then Mike reached up and caressed a nipple. That sent a reflexive grind to my hips. The sensation of rubbing my clit against his body while he was buried so deep within me was powerful. I leaned back a little and moaned, continuing the grind. Mike bent forward and licked my left breast, feeling my shiver before he took it between his lips and tugged gently. He was tonguing the very end of my nipple as his hand reached in and began rubbing at my pussy, spreading the moisture even further. His fingers found my clit, and the added sensations made me gasp. I got my legs under me, raised up, and lowered myself down onto him again. About three or four minutes of that, and I began my reflexive squeezing and grinding that told Mike I was coming. And coming. And coming. I could barely move, and was still impaled on Mike, straddled on his crossed legs, as his fingers worked magic on my labia and clit, and his cock pressed my G spot.

I was hugging him, clenching and slowly moving my hips, when I felt the swell and surges of his own orgasm, and felt the warmth of his his soft "oh, oh, oooohhhh", whispered by my ear.

After a moment of sitting and holding each other, panting and smiling, I climbed off of him and took care of the condom.

"Morning sex has one drawback," said Mike.

"No cuddling after?"

"Yeah. You need to go to work, and I need to go to class." Sadly, he was right.

~~~~

We dressed and went down to get breakfast. Bill and Abby were sharing a look over their coffees.

"Good morning, you two."

"Very good," I winked back at Abby. I made my usual oatmeal and sipped coffee. Ten minutes ago I was in the middle of a bone-shaking orgasm. Now I was watching oatmeal turn in the microwave.

"I think it ought to be my turn to cook tonight", said Mike.

"Oh, you should make your spaghetti sauce! That's great stuff." Apparently that was something Mike had made a few times in college, when the friends wanted a break from dorm food. Abby seconded the motion.

"I don't have anything going after my last class, so I should have time for that. I'll get ingredients on the way home."

"Check the pantry first, I'm pretty sure we have at least some of stuff." Practical Maria pitched in her suggestion, too. "There's, like, three or four little cans of tomato paste and who knows what else."

"Okay. How about this: I will get everything I need, but use up whatever older cans we have first. Then we'll still have some for another day. Have we got red wine, or should I buy some?"

"There's at least four bottles left in the case I bought for the party," said Bill. Trust him to be up on that inventory!

~~~

I rinsed my oatmeal bowl and stuck it in the dishwasher, then took the last piece of Abby's quiche from the other night for lunch. Friday mornings were office meeting time, which was sometimes useful but mostly just occupied an hour that could have been used for real work. By working at my desk instead of going out for lunch, I could recover that hour and save a few bucks. And I'd had that quiche cold before. It was just as good as hot, so it would make a delicious lunch.

~~~

The day flew by, but not all that productively. I was reflecting about the conversation I'd had with Mom. It was hard to imagine her being sexual or passionate, especially with Dad. Naturally I knew they would have been younger and probably good-looking, and my existence proved they'd had sex at least once.

I tried to imagine myself in her situation. What if I was nineteen and unexpectedly pregnant, with the intense stigma of unwed motherhood in my future? Or twenty-five, trapped in a loveless marriage, with a pre-schooler and a big scar across my abdomen. And trying to stay within the confines of the tight culture of prudish Catholicism meant basically a lifetime sentence.

The sacrifices she'd made for me, and for her faith, again saddened me. Our conversation revealed that she wanted better for me. She'd never come right out and say it, but her church attendance had pretty much become a

pro forma

ritual, for appearance more than for worship. Clearly she didn't want me in the same social straitjacket, and was happy I was able to do what she couldn't.

Then I remembered. She'd said her attitude changed during All Saint's Day mass. That was November 1, and the morning mass would have been right about when I was making love with Mike for the very first time. If there's anything that could make me believe in angels or saints, that coincidence might have done it.

~~~

Eventually, I had plowed through the things I absolutely needed to finish, plus some of the less time-critical files. It was Friday evening. That made it a week since Mike and I met. It was an eternity ago, how is it possible that it was also only seven days?

I shut down for the day, and walked home. When I got there, the whole house smelled deliciously of Mike's spaghetti sauce. He was sitting at the kitchen table, working on something that looked like it involved a lot of math and weird symbols. His plate and silverware were stacked neatly at his left elbow. The other three places were set, with empty wine glasses ready for the two bottles of Cabernet.

Also on the table was a whole, uncut pineapple.

The kitchen was spotless, with a loaf of grocery-store garlic bread waiting to go in the oven. Aside from the simmering sauce-pot and a large pot to cook the pasta, Mike had washed everything. A frying pan, a couple of cutting boards, and several knives were in the dish drainer.

"Wow. Not only does that smell fantastic, you've cleaned up after yourself. And I see you got a pineapple." I winked at him.

"I hope somebody around here knows how to cut it up. I'm clueless. And I'd rather wash dishes than try to calculate the decay rate of nuclear reactions in older stars." Mike put his notebook away and closed his laptop. "Plus, it's probably about your turn on dishes, and I wanted you to have that extra free time tonight. Happy one-week anniversary, my beautiful mermaid."

"Ex-mermaid, I think. But the red tide is coming soon, so I do appreciate your thoughtfulness." I kissed him. "I'm going to go up and change into casual clothes. Want to come with me?"

Mike took the hint. "I would be happy to help you out of your work clothes, anyway."

He did that.

Mike had also cleaned the bathroom this afternoon. "Wow, thanks." Not many guys cleaned voluntarily, I thought.

"Well, I've been using it as much as you, and it kind of needed it."

"You're wonderful, Mike." He shrugged. "So as a reward, you get to pick how we use the second-to-last condom."

"Well, it would be nice to have seafood again before the red tide arrives. Can I order the bearded clam appetizer?"

Oh yes he could. I kissed him hard, then sank back onto the bed, knees hanging over the edge. Mike had undressed me, but was still fully clothed. He bent over me and began by kissing each nipple, then licking gently and blowing on it so that the wetness chilled them a bit.

They were really sensitive, and this treatment made them pucker up. He followed that with his fingers, so lightly it could have been an ant walking around on my breast.

He kissed my navel, and continued downward. He bypassed my pubic area entirely, kissing and dragging his lips down the front of my thigh.

"You tease!" I brought my knees up, basically shoving my pussy into his face. "Lick me!"

Mike obeyed, taking a slow lick from my opening all the way up to my hooded clit. He circled it a few times, then went straight in and flicked it with his pointed tongue. Meanwhile, he had begun probing his fingers into my vagina, spreading moisture while opening me up.

My PMS-enhanced sensitivity couldn't take it. "Oh, too intense, Mike". He backed off, and removed his hand. "Not the fingers - that was nice - but my clit is extra-sensitive right now."

He resumed with gentle licks around the hood and labia, leaving the clit itself alone. His fingers returned to my G spot, and the combination made me climax pretty quickly. This was a hard, fast, intense orgasm. It wasn't the long slow waves he sometimes made me feel. I bucked my hips and felt my thighs shaking as I came and came.

Finally I slowed. Mike was looking up at me. "Ohhhh, Mike, I'm boneless. That was big. I hope you want missionary, because I'm not moving."

"Fine with me!" He dipped his head to give me one last lick, then stood up and stripped. At some point he must have adjusted himself, because his boner was straight up and pressed to his belly by the elastic of his briefs.

He freed it, then wrapped it up in a condom before climbing onto the bed, and kneeling between my knees.

I spread said knees even wider and reached out to him. He sank into my welcoming arms. Then he sank into my welcoming pussy, and began thrusting. It didn't take me very long to match his rhythm with my own, and my excitement soon built back up.

Mike was getting closer, I could tell. I wrapped my legs around his butt and began to give him extra Kegel squeezes with every thrust, and felt the answering pulses begin as he came. Those pulses finished me, too, and I came around him.

"Mmmmm. I love you so much, Maria." I relaxed my legs, lying splayed with my knees up. Mike scooted into a squat, kissing each breast, and carefully slid out, holding the condom. "But I gotta say, I won't be sad when you get that implant."

"Me either. It goes in tomorrow morning, can you drive me over? My arm might be too sore after."

"I was planning on it. Can I buy you a big greasy breakfast first? That diner's breakfast menu looked nice."

"Rain check. I don't know how I'll respond, and it might make me queasy."

"Fair. And speaking of food, we gotta get moving!"

We dressed quickly and hurried downstairs.

~~~~

Abby and Bill were side by side on the couch, having opened the wine. Actually, they seemed to have more than opened it - it was nearly empty.

"Hey there, lovebirds. Are you going to make pasta to go with that yummy sauce - or did you already eat?"

Abby's deadpan delivery was perfect, but Mike blushed, causing Bill to snort out a laugh.

I played along with Abby. "Well, Mike had an appetizer, but I'm ravenous."

"Ravished, I'd say," winked Abby.

"That too. Come on Mike, let's cook." We all went into the kitchen, where I put the garlic bread in the oven and Mike turned on the burner under the big pasta pot he'd set up earlier. I opened the second bottle of wine and got the salad and a couple types of dressing out of the fridge. Abby had cut up Mike's pineapple, and it was waiting there in a bowl.

Mike's sauce was awesome. He had cooked some ground Italian sausage, and stirred that into a balance of tomato paste and tomato sauce that had a much better consistency than jar sauces. He'd added plenty of oregano and basil, and there must have been some more herbs as well.

I complimented him on it.

"My mom is half Italian, so I learned cooking from a legitimate Italian grandma. She taught me how to taste the herbs as the flavor develops, so you can predict the result when it's time to serve," he said. "And grocery-store sausage varies, too. You might need more or less of something to make it right."

My god. Mike approached cooking like he did lovemaking. He learned some favorites, then paid careful attention to things as they progressed. He learned what worked and expanded on it. He remembered things. And he was pretty darn good at it. I guess I could forgive him for not being a strict recipe-follower, like I was. Our first night together (was that only a week ago?) we had had a lengthy discussion about cooking techniques.

The conversation rambled and drifted as we wiped up sauce with the garlic bread and finished off the wine. Abby went to the refrigerator and got out the cut-up pineapple. I got out a big serving spoon and some bowls and started dishing up.

Abby and I were standing side by side at the counter, and she nudged me and winked. "So, you bought a pineapple, huh?" She looked at the four bowls I'd set up, then scooped most of the pieces from two of the bowls into the other two.

"Actually, Mike bought it."

"Even better." We each picked up one scanty bowl and one overfilled bowl, and served our boyfriends.

Our very smart boyfriends. They caught on. Bill looked at his bowl, looked at Abby's bowl, and carefully forked one piece of pineapple from Abby's bowl and put it in his. "There, that looks about right."

It was actually pretty good pineapple. We'll see what happens.

~~~

We collapsed into bed, stuffed with carbohydrates and pineapple, and just talked until we fell asleep.

~~~~~

There was no alarm clock on Saturdays, thank goodness. I woke naturally, but not that much later than on a weekday. That last few minutes of sleep was precious, and waking next to a sleeping Mike was even more precious. I listened to his gentle breathing with my eyes closed. I was happy to snuggle and go back to sleep, but my bladder wouldn't allow it.

The mundane biology of being an adult human female needed attention, too. I'd better put a pad in my undies today, in case I was early.

Mike had woken as I was getting out of bed. He had rolled over to watch my backside as I went into the bathroom, so I gave him an extra wiggle. I do not have the kind of build that guys ogle, and being watched that way by Mike was kind of nice. Of course, the chance I'd appreciate that glance from a stranger was approximately the same as the chance they'd see my bare ass anyway.

He went into the bathroom, and I dressed. I went downstairs and made my oatmeal while Mike showered. Abby and Bill were in the living room, drinking coffee and chatting.

By the time Mike came down, I'd finished my oatmeal and was scrolling social media on my phone with a second cup of coffee in front of me. Mike went to the fridge and got out the big bowl, which still had a decent amount of pineapple. I raised an eyebrow, trying to do that Mr. Spock look.

"You're right. I shouldn't do this." He turned toward the living room and hollered "hey, Bill, do you want any more pineapple?"

"Yes, he does" answered Abby.

"Oh, all right." Mike gave an exaggerated sigh and put the pineapple away, then made himself some toast.

~~~

"Your appointment is at ten, right?"

"Right, we don't need to leave for a while, yet."

"Got anything else you want to do this morning?"

"Yeah. You." I took Mike's hand, and we stood up and embraced.

"One more left. Got any ideas?"

I did.

~~~

We went upstairs and got naked, and just embraced. "Okay, this is going to need communication."

"Oh? Okay, what's your idea?"

"I want to have you take me from behind, standing, while I'm bent over."

"Like in porn?"

"Umm, yeah. But loving and respectful, like I know you always are. Don't do any of that degrading shit, like slapping me or jerking off onto my back."

"I wouldn't want to."

"I know you wouldn't, and I needed to tell you so you wouldn't think I wanted it." I hoped that made sense to Mike. "Also, absolutely no butt stuff. Vaginal only. If you try to stick anything in my ass, I will shit on you."

"Yuck, no way. I see your point about not wanting me to think I had to do something I didn't have any interest in doing." By this time, our conversation had turned serious enough that Mike had wilted. We were just standing nude before each other, holding hands and gazing at each other. "Stating, knowing, and respecting that kind of boundaries. Always. We haven't gone anywhere, sexually, that has made me uncomfortable. And I am very, very happy with you. I'm basically pretty vanilla. There might be a time one of us has an interest in something new or kinky. If that happens, talking about it first is crucial."

"Deal. Okay. So here's one. What the hell do you think happened on Halloween, and would you want to do it again?"

"That was such a strange night. I have no idea what happened, except our friends brought us together, and we clicked."

"I mean the shared nudity part, dingus. Five people, all doing sexy things at the same time?"

"I have to say, that was really hot. But maybe it was the magic of the night, the spontaneity of it all. I don't know if it would work if we planned it to happen."