"Slowly run your finger along the rim, firmly press into it."
Cecile didn't flinch whilst giving me instructions on how to close the crust on her cherry pie.
Thanksgiving was upon us and my girlfriend invited me to join their annual family feast. We had been seeing each other for about eight months and when she asked me if I would join her, I thought it an appropriate time to meet her family. Not that I had anything better to do. My family was a thousand miles away and previous Thanksgivings days were either spent on my couch or at a pub watching sports.
Our drive took about two hours and we finally arrived at Angie's family home, late on the Friday afternoon. Her parents came running out to meet us. I had not even turned the ignition off when I looked up to see what Angie was waving at.
I was somewhat taken aback seeing the woman running towards us.
Angela was practically a ten. A true, natural beauty whom I met through a mutual friend on a weekend trip to the country. Was it love at first sight? I certainly liked her and tried to flirt with her from the moment I met her. But she was aloof, at first, and brushed off my subtle advances with surgical aplomb. I found that I liked her even more for that.
I took great joy from her exuberant energy and zest for life. We did several hikes into the mountains together and despite her demure frame, she was in peak physical form, showing both strength and stamina, which often surprised me. There were several times I had to dig deep to keep up with her, determined she would not show me up. But she would look back every so often and I could see her smirking before she pushed even harder.
Meeting Cecile and Jon confirmed her superior genealogy, as both parents looked like Cosmopolitan magazine models from the early nineties. Jon showed his age but looked like a dead ringer Paul Newman (in his later years). Cecile on the other hand, had stunning blonde hair (surely treated, I thought) and a lean, muscular body similar to Angie's. I later discovered she still trains three times a week and regularly went horse riding. She spoke with a southern-twanged accent which made me think of Dolly Parton.
'Just hotter,' I thought, 'like model hot-hotter. Wow!'
She was dressed in a pair of tight, near-white-faded jeans and suede rider boots, with an off-the-shoulder, brightly colored floral top.
'A-class cleavage. And a tight fucking ass... Goddamn, she's hot as fuck!', I mind-mused while I watched her preparing drinks for us after we settled on the veranda.
We got to know each other better during a delicious beef stroganoff dinner, my compliments of which, made Cecile smile from ear to ear. Angie is very close to her dad and the evening lent itself to the two of them discussing their usual interests, while Cecile and I chatted about this and that. Later that night, Angie and I retreated to our bedroom, and she expressed how impressed her parents were with me. "Thank fuck", I replied, as I did not want this to be a stumbling block for us going forward.
I told her that I believed her parents were exceptionally cool. And very good-looking, and I could see where her fantastic genes came from. Her dad came across as an articulate, handsome gentleman and her mother, well, she was damn hot! She cried out with laughter and then asked if her mother turned me on more than she does.
When I cheekily (but honestly) said yes, she jumped on me and play-wrestled me on the bed, pinning me down while sitting on top of me.
"Is that so?" She growled playfully, "Well then, show me what you will want to do to her," she added before our frolicking quickly developed into lusty petting.
Before you could say "Thanksgiving turkey", we were naked and fucking in her parent's guest room. Angie can get rather loud and when we walked into the kitchen for breakfast the following morning, Cecile's pouty question about whether we slept well, clearly gave away that she had heard her daughter's loud sex moans the previous night.
After a hearty breakfast, Cecile suggested that I help her in the kitchen while Angie and her dad would go to the grocery store for some items which were still required. The two of them were eager to spend some time together and we all agreed this sounded like a good idea. I consider myself a decent cook and love preparing lavish dishes for friends and family, something which Angie must have mentioned. Cecile stated that she required a competent person to help her.
Once Angie and Jon had left, she playfully smacked my backside and said "Come with me, I want to see these skills... Angie is so verbose about," and winked at me.
Cecile gave me an apron and started taking out pots and pans, and a myriad of products and ingredients.
"We've got a lot to get through, Adam, so we best get warmed up," Cecile told me and poured two shots of tequila for us. We clinked our glasses and gulped down our first shooter.
"Ooh, that makes me tingle, everywhere", Cecile giggled and did a little dance, shaking her shoulders which jiggled her stunning tits under her cotton crop top.
She was not wearing a bra and her nipples pushed rigidly against the fabric. She wore another pair of skin-tight jeans with her boots. 'So fucking sexy,' milled through my mind.
"It is clear that Angie got her stunning looks from you," I complimented Cecile.
"Oh, and you are such a charmer, Adam," she beamed a broad smile and flicked her one hip towards me as a curtsy.
"You might get extra dessert with a mouth like that," she added with a pout.
We got busy preparing what appeared to be, a massive feast. Another round of tequila was done before she brought me a bag of carrots, asking me to peel it all. While I was busy with this, she stepped up behind me and put her hand on my shoulder.
"Could you be a doll and julienne those for me?" She leaned forward to pull a paring knife from the drawer and in doing so, pushed her breasts against my side. I felt my cock twitch.
She walked over to the fridge and took out a bowl which she brought over to me.
"Dip your finger in there, honey," she instructed. I complied and licked the red cherry sauce from my finger while she watched me intently.
"Well? Do you think my pie will be... moist enough?" She asked with a deadpan face.
"Hmmm, wow. It's delicious, Cecile," I replied, grinning at her words.
"Well, we can't have a dry pie now, can we?" She smiled again and bumped my hip with hers.
She proceeded to roll out the puff pastry in front of me, working on the opposite side of the granite island workspace.
"I left it in the fridge too long. It's so hard," she emphasised 'hard' while pushing the roller pin forward. As it flattened out, she would lean her weight forward and drop her shoulders which made her top flap open. I could not help myself staring at her fine rack. She glanced up at me, obvious to my glares, and her lips pouted again. A groan accompanied the next forward roll. Her top was slipping off her one shoulder and I got a full view of her dark, brown nipples.