Double Lines

The drive home from the restaurant was quiet but pleasant. The radio played softly in the background as I stared out the window while Ethan drove. When we stopped at the lights, Ethan would take my hand and squeeze it affectionately, making me smile. I love it when he does that to me. It’s like he’s telling me he cares for me.

We get home and I follow Ethan up the stairs to the living area.

“You want a drink, tea?” Ethan asks as I scan the room.

“No,” I reply, catching his eyes as I look at him, “I want something else,” I grin.

“Really?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup. Catch me!” I yell, running past him and taking the stairs two at a time to the top floor.

I’m surprised that I don’t twist my ankle and fall over wearing my heels. Being on my feet all day, I prefer to wear sneakers or flats, so I’m not used to walking in shoes with any sort of a raise in height. When I get to the room, I kick my heels off and then attempt to close the door on Ethan, giggling the whole time.

I’m not successful though, and Etham slams the door open, a man on a mission. The expression on his face, his determination, makes me laugh harder. Ethan grabs me and throws me over his shoulder, making me squeal.

“Ethan! I think I’m going to throw up!” I lie, hitting his bum with my fists.

Ethan lowers me to the ground, my body rubbing against his as I go. Already I can feel the bulge in his pants, and I grin, smug with my ability to arouse him.

“Are you still on your period?” Ethan asks.

“Yup,” I reply. My shop is closed tonight.

“Dam. I could always wear the Dolmio grin…” he suggests, giving me a smouldering look. I furrow my brows, wondering what he means by saying he could wear the Dolmio grin, and then it hits me. When I was a child there was an ad for Dolmio tomato pasta sauce. At the end of the ad, the father figure has tomato sauce on his face, and the company’s catch-phrase is played, ‘we put the good things in, so you’ll wear the Dolmio grin.’

“Ew!” I cry, smacking Ethan’s chest, making him laugh.

“We can just go to bed,” Ethan suggests.

“What about this?” I say, grabbing Ethan’s cock through his clothes.

“What are you thinking?”

“Hmm,” I state, kissing Ethan on the lips, “what am I thinking?”

I rub my hands down the front of his shirt, pressing over the chiseled bumps. How he maintains these while working at an office, I’ll never know. I bring my hands up again and begin to undo his buttons, making a line of kisses down his chest as I go.

“That’s it beautiful. On your knees,” Ethan says huskily. I smile, I love it when Ethan takes control and tells me what to do. I love being totally dominated by him in bed. I get down on my knees one at a time, palming the material on either side of his bulge. Ethan continues to unbutton his shirt, one by one as I watch. It is agonisingly slow.

I lean forward and kiss his cock through the material.

“Mikaela, fuck,” Ethan shudders. As he takes his shirt off completely, I fumble at his belt.

“I’ll do it,” Ethan says, placing his hands on mine. I watch as he quickly unbuckles himself and zips down him pants, releasing his cock from the first layer of material. In one swoop, Ethan pulls down both his pants and underwear, revealing his fat cock to me.

“You’re going to suck me off,” Ethan states as if it’s a given (which it is). Enthusiastically, I nod. That is exactly what I want to do. I lick my lips and grab the girth of his shaft with my right hand, pumping it up and down.

I lick the tip of his penis, exploring the hills and cleft with my tongue. I pump his shaft once, then again, as I tease him and take part of his head into my mouth. He groans when inside me, my tongue furiously flicking around his head. I place the whole head into my mouth, sucking it as I pump my hand up and down his shaft. When Ethan moans, I take this cue and release him from my mouth with a slurp, making him whimper.

Quietly chuckling, I make open mouth wet kisses down the side of his shaft, slurping and attempting to make his cock wet with my saliva. Ethan’s cock pulses, and I grin. My mouth reaches his balls, which I give a quick lick to before placing one in my mouth. I love the way his testicle rolls in my mouth, his ball-sack loose around the hard centre. I move to his next testicle, his pubic hair scratching my lips. I roll the hard ball in my mouth, humming in pleasure.

When I finally pop his testicle from my mouth, I slowly run my tongue up the ridges of his length, until I get to the hard cut of his head. I loll my tongue around this line, before taking his whole head back into my mouth. I don’t know if I’m any good at this, but Ethan doesn’t complain, and I certainly enjoy it.

Slowly I take more of Ethan’s penis into my mouth, unable to help my teeth to not scrape on his wide girth. There’s no more room for my tongue to move as I continue to suck more in, pumping my hand up and down his remaining length. I gag when Ethan reaches a certain spot, but Ethan knows to ignore me and let me endure.

“Oh god, Mikaela,” Ethan moans, grabbing the back of my head and fisting my hair. I struggle to breathe, concentrating on the task in my mouth, when Ethan purposely pulls out of my mouth partway before sliding back in. He hits the back of my throat, and I gag again, but I don’t care. I want this.

“Uh,” Ethan grunts, picking up the pace as I furiously try to suck and breath at the same time.

“Uh,” Ethan cries again a hot liquid hitting the back of my throat this time. Ethan spurts into my mouth three more times before pulling out, saliva and cum dripping down my chin as he does.

“Oh god, Mikaela, how did I get so lucky?” Ethan sighs, stepping back. I watch him, his body looking like it’s going to collapse, and I feel a surge of pride run through me. Slowly I stand up, wiping the dribble from my chin.

“Thank you, beautiful,” Ethan says, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and kissing the top of my head. I smile, enjoying the warmth of his body. I think I’m beginning to fall for him.

//\\///\\\//\\

The week goes by quickly, and before you know it, it’s Saturday again. I’m standing in the kitchen with Ethan, making Tyler his bowl of coco pops while Ethan makes us both coffee. The doorbell rings, indicating that Adele and Declan are here.

“I’ll get it,” Ethan says, kissing me on the cheek as he walks past.

I place Tyler’s breakfast in front of him and hand him a glass of milk.

“This is our home,” I hear Ethan say as he reaches the floor. I smile at that statement. I know he has his own house, but love it when he calls my home ours.

“It’s cozy,” Adele says, looking around.

“Who’s that mummy?” Tyler asks, getting off his chair and wrapping his little arms around my leg.

“Hi,” I greet when Declan and Adele walk towards us.

“I love your place, it’s homely,” Adele says, giving me a hug.

“Thank you.”

“Yes. Small, but nice,” Declan adds. I nod. The place may appear small to them, but I never thought it was.

“I like it,” I state, giving Declan a defying look.

“And who is this?” Adele asks, looking at Tyler, who has been watching intently. As soon as the attention is drawn to him, he immediately goes back to hiding his face in my leg.

“Cute!” Adele laughs.

“That’s Tyler, our son,” Ethan replies proudly.

“He looks like you, man,” Declan comments, giving Ethan a slap on the shoulder.

“I know.”

“Poor kid,” Declan adds, making me laugh.

“Leave him, Declan. Now, will you two be alright on your own?” Adele asks. Both men nod.

“Good, because we’re going. I hope you haven’t had your breakfast yet,” Adele says, taking my hand.

“Not yet,” I reply, making her smile.

I give Tyler a kiss on the head and tell him to be good before saying goodbye to Ethan.

“Here,” Ethan says, shoving a wad of cash in my hand.

“What is this?”

“Just in case,” he says with a wink. I try to give it back, but Ethan shoves his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t want your money, Ethan,” I tell him, attempting again. When he refuses, I try giving the money to Declan.

“Uh uh. Keep me out of it,” Declan states, his hands up in surrender.

“Fine,” I grumble, placing the cash in my wallet and giving him a look when I can’t close it.

“You might as well get yourself a new wallet while you’re at it,” Ethan teases, making me roll my eyes.

“That was so cute,” Adele comments as we drive away from my apartment.

“He’s never given me money before,” I complain.

“That’s because you’ve never asked, have you?”

“No. I’m not with Ethan for the money.”

“You’re the first. It’s hard making friends when you come from money. They expect you to pay for everything. But Lincoln adores you, you know? You’re not like any of the girls who’ve thrown themselves at him in the past.”

I nod but don’t reply.

“But he’s only ever had eyes for one person. You,” Adele continues when I don’t say anything. She parks her car outside a café in uptown Brunswick.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” I say before getting out of the car.

“It is. I’ve tried setting up with my friends in the past, but he’s not been interested,” Adele tells me when we walk in.

The café is large, with lots of seating inside. It looks very upmarket, and I’m surprised when there isn’t a hostess to greet us at the door. I follow Adele to a booth along one side of the room and sit opposite her.

“This place has table service,” Adele comments when I look around the room to see if there are any menus displayed on the wall. I nod and smile at her, wondering what to say when a waitress appears before us, saving me from future embarrassment.

“Hello, welcome to Gloria Teas. My name is Dianna. This is our menu. I’ll come back with water and glasses,” the young girl nervously tells us.

“Thank you,” both Adele and I reply.

“You’re very polite, aren’t you?” Adele muses after Dianna leaves.

“It’s how I was raised,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders.

“I like it. It’s refreshing. Most of my girlfriends aren’t like that.”

“I guess I’m not much like the people you socialise with,” I comment.

“No, you’re not. Which is why I think I’m going to like you. Like I said, refreshing,” Adele smiles.

Our waitress returns with a jug of water and long glasses and takes our orders.

“So how was your week?” Adele asks me.

“It was good. There is always something happening in the support unit; no day is the same. One of my boys went up a level in his reading, and I actually managed to get Chantel to trace her name,” I grin. Some children who are neurodiverse take longer than neurotypical children to accomplish tasks. But when they do, especially the ones they’ve been practicing for months, it’s a huge achievement.

“How old is she? Chantel?”

“She’s six.”

“And she can’t write her name yet?”

“No. We’ve been practicing her fine motor skills. Plus she’s a bit lazy,” I admit.

“I guess it was satisfying to see her finally able to trace her name,” Adele smiles.

“It was, Paula, my teacher’s aid and I were cheering and…” I begin.

“Hello, Mikaela. Fancy seeing you here,” Sofia interrupts me. I turn and see Sofia standing at our table, looking at us. She’s dressed up in brown slacks and a pink blouse, it’s a familiar outfit but I can’t place where I’ve seen it before.

“What are you doing in Uptown Brunswick? It seems out of place for you,” Sofia smirks.

“I’m having breakfast with my friend Adele…” I begin, waving my hand towards Adele.

“Hi, I’m Ad” Adele begins, offering her hand.

“Is that a Five handbag?” Sofia asks, pointing to Adele.

“Uh, yes…” Adele states, sounding unsure.

“Hey!” Adele then cries when Sofia picks it up.

“Oh shush,” Sofia says, looking at the bag carefully. Adele’s handbag is a pastel blue colour, with the numeral five pressed into the blue vinyl covering in a pattern. The bag has a cream trim and a long strap so you can carry it over your shoulder.

“Hmm. It’s a pretty good knock-off,” Sofia states, handing the bag back to Adele. Adele looks at me, as if to say ‘What the hell?’

“Uh, thanks…” Adele replies.

“You know they’re getting really good these days,” Sofia comments.

“Who?” I ask.

“The people who make these knock offs. This isn’t a genuine Five bag,” Sofia explains.

“And how would you know that?” Adele asks, folding her arms.

“I work for Brand Bags. We have all the latest designer bags, and this, is not one of them. Five has never sold handbags that look like that,” Sofia states smugly.

“It’s actually a new line, it’s called the pastel collection…” Adele tries to explain, looking at me.

“Oh, sorry. I just heard my name. I’m working today, and I promised the girls I’d bring them coffee. See you next week in playgroup, Mikaela. Toodles!” Sofia smiles, turning on her heel and walking away.

“Who the heck was that?” Adele whispers loudly once Sofia has walked away.

“One of the mums from playgroup. We met at the pre-natal group before Tyler was born. She’s a nasty piece of work,” I explain.

“My god. What. A. Bitch.”