Chapter Five: (Not So) Easy Like Sunday Morning
I woke up that Sunday morning at around ten. Just woke up. I didn't have those few moments of
waking
up. I was asleep, then awake. More awake than I'd been in years.
I lay there completely stunned for a moment when I realized that my mind was quiet. I wasn't arguing with myself or anything. Just...quiet inside my head. Weird. I mean, my emotions were all a big fucking jumbled mess, and I'd think about that later. But for right then...I was otherwise at peace. Fucking weird.
I laid there and enjoyed everything for probably fifteen minutes. Then I got up and took a massive piss, took a shower, brushed my teeth - in the shower 'cause it saves time. You know, the usual morning stuff.
I got dressed in a pair of olive green cargo shorts and a black wife-beater. None of the girls had woken up yet, presumably, so I made sure to be as quiet as possible going down the stairs.
Smiling and humming happily to myself I set about making breakfast. I whipped up some batter, pulled out the old Hello Kitty waffle maker and started making some waffles. I had the bacon sizzling in the pan, some biscuits in the oven, and a full pot of coffee brewing when a pair of tiny hands encircled my waist and a firm pair of tits pressed up against my back.
"Mmm. Morning Bryce. Sleep well?"
"Yes I did, Mr. Crowley. How could I
not
sleep well after so many orgasms?" She giggled, kissed my back and disappeared. A moment later I heard Niagara falls rushing into the toilet.
I returned my attention to the cooking, only to be interrupted by a naked Chelsea entering the kitchen, snuggling into me and giving me a kiss. "Good Morning, Mr. Crowley. You throw a great party." She giggled and headed off to the stairs.
One after another, the parade of girls - all still naked - came into the kitchen and greeted me with a kiss and moved to other parts of the house. Even Nikki, the last one to wake, apparently, came into the kitchen in the raw. As soon as I noticed I focused very intently on not burning the bacon, and putting the last waffle in the griddle.
As I flipped a piece of bacon Nikki hugged me from behind. Her breasts squashed up against me and I could feel her nipples poking my back through the thin fabric of my shirt. She leaned in further and kissed me right behind the left ear. In
my spot
. The "turns me on instantly" spot.
FUUUUUUUUUUCK!
"Morning, Daddy."
I took a deep breath and let it out very slowly, and quietly bent my head down a little to suggest I was really,
really
focused on the bacon. And not hard enough to cut glass suddenly.
"M-morning, Muffin."
She kissed my spot again, longer this time. Nothing unseemly, but...longer. Much longer than a usual kiss between us. And was it my imagination, but were her lips slightly parted?
Son of a bitch!
She turned and left the kitchen, her hand trailing along my side until she was gone - the path her fingers had just taken now burning. Burning.
Burning! "Shit! The bacon!"
I managed to keep the last few pieces of bacon from burning too badly and got them onto the serving dish. I popped the last waffle out of the automatic griddle, then spent a minute leaning on the counter, my arms supporting my weight, my chin down on my chest.
Gaining hold of myself again - or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof - I hollered out, "Breakfast is ready! Clothing at the table is not, I repeat,
not
optional! Move your butts, ladies!"
I spent the next few minutes setting all the breakfast fixings on the table and getting out plates, silverware, glasses, and mugs.
Beth and Yelena entered the kitchen together and had apparently decided that wearing very skimpy, flimsy-looking bras and panties counted as being "dressed."
Opening my mouth to say something I thought,
They're as covered as if they were in bikinis, which they've eaten in at this table before
. I closed my mouth then smiled at the girls.
"Dig right in, ladies. You don't know how long everyone else is going to take."
"Not long, Mr. Crowley!" Bryce called as she slid by me into a chair and popped a piece of bacon into her mouth.
She'd
at least
actually
gotten dressed. Mostly. I could see she was braless by the very tight fit of her Halestorm crop-top and the might-not-have-even-bothered Daisy Dukes that did a very poor job covering her pussy and ass. Not that I was complaining.
Chelsea and Regina - both wearing more substantial shorts and simple t-shirts - joined the other ladies at the table and dug in, as well. I turned to holler out for Svetlana and Nikki but my yell died unvoiced as the two joined the rest of us. Nikki was in a black sports bra and matching running shorts while Svetlana had on a green Lycra workout top and black yoga pants.
All I could think of right then was Jayne from Firefly in the main room of the whorehouse talking about how there's "so much tasty here my John Thomas is like to pop off and fly around the room," or something like that.