Geren wanted to debate the topic but decided he would rather make better use of their time alone together. He wondered if this was the same Tempest that had talked trash about Dvontè the night before, calling him every foul name in the book while he was trying to get some sleep.
Tempest started drying the dishes and putting them away. Geren neatly folded the paper and went over to help. He took the towel away from her and dried the dishes as she handed them to him.
“You notice anything strange?” he asked, licking his lips.
“Strange like what?”
“We’re alone.”
“So it seems.” Tempest giggled, beginning to read his mind. “You aren’t afraid I might take advantage of you, are you?”
“Afraid? Hell, naw!” They both chuckled. “In fact, I’m praying like all hell you will molest my ass something terrible.”
Tempest put the salad bowl she was holding back into the dish drainer. “Is that right?” she asked, caressing Geren’s dick with her right hand.
He threw the towel down on the counter. “That’s right!” He palmed one of her breasts and then suckled on her bottom lip. “We never officially christened this house. Just our bedroom and the basement steps. Don’t you think it’s about time we took care of the rest of the house?”
“What do you have in mind?” Tempest stuck her tongue into his left ear and then nibbled on his earlobe.
“I say we get busy in every room. Make some freaky memories to reminisce about in our old age. So that when we’re sitting on the front porch with the grandkids on our laps, we can look at each other and play them back in our minds.”
Tempest laughed. “Why, Mr. Kincaid, I love that idea!”
“Why, Mrs. Kincaid, what hard nipples you have!” Geren proclaimed, unbuttoning the front of her cotton oxford shirt and letting it fall down off her shoulders so he could get a frontal view of her breasts.
She started to unbuckle his khaki trousers. “So what room do you want to get freaky in first?”
“I vote for the family room. I can think of a few kinky things I want to do to you with the Ping-Pong paddles.”
“Oh, my!” Tempest exclaimed. “Sounds promising!”
“It is,” Geren assured her, taking one of her areolas into his mouth. “Very promising!”
“In that case,” Tempest said, pulling away and running through the kitchen to the family room in the rear of the house. “Last one on the Ping-Pong table is a rotten egg!”
Up Close and Personal