Page 19 of The Facilitator, Part 2

I was sure Mackenzie would have some expensive chip fryer somewhere that used minimal fat, but there was nothing like double-cooked chips in a saucepan.

Twice I had to wave a tea towel over the heat sensor when it went off, but just as he came through the door, I had managed to have everything under control.

“What are you doing?” he said, with a laugh.

I was standing in just my bra and jeans, the heat of the hob and running around trying to waft air around the room had me sweating. The front of my shirt had also become victim to a too hot chip pan that spat in protest at the cold wet potato slices.

“Cooking you dinner for a change. Now, take a seat. I wasn’t sure what wine went best with ham, eggs, and chips but I like this one, so that’s what we’ve got,” I said, waving a spatula at the glass of red.

“Ham, eggs, and chips, my favourite,” he said.

“Liar, but it is mine.”

I plated the meal and placed them on the breakfast bar. I blew some hair from my eyes as I sat.

“I wonder if you might want to tuck that tea towel over your gorgeous tits. I’d hate for them to get burned if you dropped something,” he said.

He had a point. I grabbed the tea towel and wrapped it around myself. As I ate, I told him about my day and how funny it had been. He laughed at our antics in the clothes store and even harder at my amusement with the rubber cat suit. We had finished eating before we got to mention the email.

“I don’t know who sent it, of course. I think it’s obvious, though, and I can only imagine Addison just wants us to know how well her and Jerry are getting on.”

“I don’t know that’s her style, to be honest. I can’t see any point to it. Jerry told you he’s in love, so why the picture? It’s not news to us.”

“You have a point, I guess. If Jerry had sent it, he’d be gushing about being in the press, so I know it wasn’t him.”

“Do we need to worry about it?” he asked. It wasn’t necessarily a question he didn’t know the answer to, of course.

“No, I guess not. Like we’ve said, I can’t do any more than I have, and I’m not getting involved in her games. Whoever sent it will reveal themselves at some point.”

I stood to clear the dishes.

“Let me do that,” he said. “You cooked.”

I sat and twirled the stem of my glass in my fingers. Mackenzie pulled the tea towel I still had tucked in my bra straps and pretended to flick me with it.

“Don’t, I might ask you to do that harder,” I teased.

“Anytime, Miss Perry, anytime.”

I heard the freezer door open and before I could turn to see what he was doing, I felt something very cold drip onto my breast. It slid under the material, and I sucked in a breath as the ice cream seeped to my nipple.

Mackenzie dropped another blob, then another.

He coated my breasts with vanilla before he turned me to face him.

I held his head as he lowered his face to lick the ice cream from my body.

He sucked my nipple through the lace material, using his teeth to pull it hard.

I threaded my fingers through his hair, and dug my nails into his scalp, as he licked and sucked my skin, leaving a trail of marks.

When he raised his head, ice cream was smeared over his chin.

It was my turn to lick that from his body.

“I think I preferred dessert,” he said, as he stood tall.

“So did I. I wonder what cock and vanilla tastes like.”

Mackenzie stared at me, not quite open-mouthed but not far off. He turned and opened the freezer, grabbed the tub and a spoon, then my hand, and dragged me upstairs to the bedroom.

I was laughing as I fell onto the bed. Mackenzie was in such a rush, he hopped around the room removing his shoes, socks, and trousers.

The buttons on his shirt popped off as he dragged it over his head.

When he was naked, he flung himself on the bed, hands behind his head and smiled up at me.

He was already sporting a rather impressive hard-on.

I slid my jeans off, unhooked my bra, and holding the tub and spoon, I sat astride his thighs.

At first, I dipped the spoon into the ice cream, licking the underside of the delicious cream.

When I thought I’d warmed the spoon enough with my tongue, I dipped again.

I held the spoon over his cock and watched the ice cream melt and drip onto it.

One drip landed on the tip and slowly slid down the side.

I repeated the process until all sides of his rigid, pulsing cock were coated.

He hissed out a breath as I lowered myself and took him in my cold mouth.

“Fuck, Lauren,” he said, through gritted teeth.

His moans only served to make me suck harder.

I wanted to milk the cum from his balls with my mouth.

I wanted to taste his saltiness as he wept onto my tongue.

I could see his hands fist into the duvet and the muscles on his stomach tighten with want.

It was nice to see I could produce those reactions in him.

His breathing sped up and he dragged in air through his nose.

He raised his hips, gently pumping his cock in and out of my mouth, fucking it.

I lifted my head. He opened his eyes to look at me as I placed the ice-cream-coated spoon on my tongue.

I held it there before lowering again. That time it was his balls I wanted to taste.

He cried out as I licked and sucked one ball into my mouth. I rolled it around using my tongue while my fingers trailed over the skin behind. I could feel his cock against the side of my face and I could smell his arousal, and mine.

I ran my tongue the length of his shaft until I covered the tip. I closed my lips once again around him and lowered my head as deep as I could before I choked. He held my head and I breathed in deep through my nose, relaxed every muscle I could, and waited for him to fuck my mouth.

With tears coursing down my cheeks from holding back my gag reflex, he finally came. Spurting his cum to the back of my throat, I swallowed as quickly as I could, sucking hard at the same time. He shouted out expletives, and I wanted to smile had I not had a mouthful of his salty fluid.

“Oh, fuck, Lauren…” He didn’t finish his sentence.

Before I could get my bearings, he sat and grabbed my face.

I swallowed quick as I was rolled to my back.

His lips crashed down on mine and I fought him to remove my panties.

He won, the tear of material echoed around the room.

I had no time to prepare, not that I wasn’t as hot as fuck anyway, before he was inside and he pummelled me into that bed.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and took it all.

Vanilla-coated cock soon topped my list of favourite flavoured ice cream.

“Every day you manage to surprise me,” I heard.

We hadn’t moved from the bed for a couple of hours. We lay tangled in the duvet and in each other’s arms.

“However long ago it was, you’d done nothing but please one man who didn’t have the foresight to know what he had. Now look at you.” Mackenzie chuckled softly.

I turned on my side so I was facing him. I traced my fingers down his cheek.

“I am what you’ve helped me to be,” I replied.

“Do you love yourself now, Lauren?” he asked.

“I’m getting there.”

“Good. I’m pleased.”

“What happens when your work is done?” I asked, I was teasing until I’d actually said the words, then that annoying pang of self-doubt hit me.

He frowned not understanding. I could have backed out just then.

“What happens when your work on me is done?” I said.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Are you doubting my love for you?”

“No, of course not. I don't want us to get…bored, I guess.”

He shuffled up the bed and propped himself on his elbow.

“I want us to get old and bored together, and I want us to fight and realise the problem because then we can think up new ways to unbore each other. Maybe you didn’t have up and downs with Scott, perhaps the staleness you experienced is what you think our relationship will be like, but it won’t, Lauren. ”

“How do you know?”

“Because I don’t do stale, and you know what? Neither do you. No more talk of doom, you’ll wish it enough and it will happen.”

“I don’t think we’ll bore each other. Sometimes I get scared because I love you so much,” I confessed.

“It’s that fear that will always keep us exciting.”

I snuggled into his chest and we lay for a little while longer.

“I think I might have a bath,” I said, stretching my body as I spoke.

Mackenzie checked his watch. “I need to call my dad,” he said.

He called his father once every other week.

I gathered his father had hearing problems by the repetition and shouting.

He’d handed the phone to me a couple of times to speak with his father, and I was always asked when I was going to visit.

It seemed Gabriella’s mother took the time to check on him and he had a companion.

Mackenzie made sure he didn’t go without, and the sadness that often clouded his features made me unsure about his relationship with his dad.

I wasn’t convinced it was because he missed him.

There was a deeper fracture in their relationship than he’d confessed to, I thought.

“You know, you should Skype with him, or go and visit. Is he well enough to travel? Could he come here for a holiday?” I asked.

“No, his heart isn’t up to it, and to be honest, he wouldn’t want to. He likes his new condo; it’s on a complex with other old folks he knows from the old days, so he can play dominoes or cards. He gets out, one day it might be a trip to the library, another to a store or a restaurant.”