Page 30 of The Holy Grail

Waffles

After sleeping remarkably well, Malcom woke up the next morning to find himself alone in bed.

At first, he was filled with disappointment, but it quickly dissipated when he heard the obvious sounds of someone in his kitchen.

He got out of bed, took care of business in the bathroom, then threw on a clean T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and headed downstairs.

To his amusement, he found Jules in the process of making waffles. Normally it would have bothered him to see his kitchen in disarray, but for once it didn’t bother him, nor did the fact Dawn Corleone was stretched out on the island, licking one of her paws and washing her ear with it.

Instead, with a huge smile on his face, he discreetly watched Jules in her panties and the shirt he’d been wearing the night before, as she measured out the dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt), then mixed them in with the wet ingredients (milk, melted butter, sour cream, and eggs).

As she used the small hand mixer, she moved her hips a little and hummed what sounded like Donna Summer’s “Bad Girls”.

He was impressed she seemed to be doing everything from memory, and after she poured the first bit of batter into the waffle iron, he came forward and pressed himself against her back, hands on her hips. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she returned, before pointing a thumb in the direction of his Breville Barista Touch espresso machine, which she figured had likely cost an arm and a leg.

“I would have made coffee, or espresso, or whatever, but I couldn’t figure out how that thing worked.

I assume it was designed by engineers at NASA? ”

“That’s okay. I’ll make it.”

However, instead of going over and doing so, he slid his hands under the hem of her shirt, then up until he was cupping her breasts. He felt a shiver go through her and it made his cock grow even harder than it had been watching her make waffles.

“I like you in my kitchen,” he murmured, lightly grinding.

“Me, too. You have all the fancy gadgets and stuff—even your cooking utensils are fancy. Where did you—” she broke off with a moan as he pinched her nipples, with just enough pressure to send tingles through her body.

“Where did I what?”

“Where did you, um …” One of his hands was now down the front of her panties, his fingers finding her clit with lightning accuracy. “Get them?”

“Get what?”

For the life of her she couldn’t remember what they’d been talking about ten seconds ago, but what did it matter, really? “Never mind. It’s not important.”

He pressed the length of his erection against the crease of her ass and leaned in to whisper in her ear, “If you don’t want this to go any further, tell me now.”

Instead of verbally answering, she shoved her panties down to where gravity took over and they dropped to the floor. Then, she lay forward on the granite countertop and spread her legs a little.

The sight of her laid out in front of him, with her cheek resting on her hands and her hair in disarray, as well as her bare ass and long legs on display, had Malcom swallowing hard.

Barely conscious of what he was doing, he pushed his sweatpants and briefs down and took his cock in hand.

It wasn’t until he was lining himself up for entry that he remembered he wasn’t wearing a condom.

With a heavy sigh, he stepped back a few inches. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.”

Jules glanced back at him. “Where are you going?”

“Upstairs to get a condom. I don’t keep any here in the kitchen.”

“Why not? You should have them in every room in the house.”

“Every room? What if my mom comes to visit and goes to get a spoon and finds condoms in the drawer?”

“Well, you obviously wouldn’t put them in the silverware drawer. They’d be in an out-of-the-way drawer … you know, one she’d never look in.” She pointed toward the ot her side of the kitchen, where a row of drawers flanked the pantry door. “Like your junk drawer over there.”

“How do you know which one is my junk drawer?”

“I may have found it when I was snooping earlier,” she said. “And by the way, you don’t have very much junk in there, so it’s not even a very good junk drawer.”

Amused, he shook his head, then patted her ass cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t.” She reached out to stop him, almost shocking herself, when she added, “It’s fine. I’m on birth control.”

He hesitated. “Are you sure? I mean, we haven’t even discussed this—”

“I know, but we’re both clean. And … I think I’d like to try it bare.”

He was really turned on by the thought of going in bare, especially since he knew he’d be her first, but … “I’m not trying to talk you out of it, but it can be, you know, messy.”

“It’s fine, really,” she insisted. “And we’re in the kitchen, so there’s probably a bunch of cleaning products around, right?”

Despite the smothered laugh that escaped him (because was he supposed to wipe her down with antibacterial counter spray when they were done?), he got back into position, and yet as he lined up, he couldn’t help but pause to savor the moment.

“Are you okay back there?” Jules asked. “What’s going on?”

He cleared his throat in semi-embarrassment. “I was just savoring the moment.”

“This probably won’t be the only time we do it like this, you know.”

“I know, but this is kind of a big moment because it’s the first time.”

She couldn’t help but smile, because there were moments when he was just so damn adorable.

At the first push in, she groaned at the sensation of his penetration without the artificial layer of latex between them. He must have liked it, too, as his groan followed hers.

He found her above-average height to be really helpful, so he didn’t have to bend very much, especially when she was on her tip toes.

He also liked the view of her ass while he was pushing in and out of her, and it made his thoughts drift to anal, and the question was out before he could stop himself. “Have you ever had, um … anal sex?”

“No.”

“Have you ever—”

“Wanted to? No,” she said, her words coming out in time with his thrusts. “My back door is exit only. ”

They had just started to get into a really good rhythm, with Jules working to get herself off with one hand, while Malcom thrust into her from behind, when the waffle iron started to smoke a little.

At the burning smell, they both looked toward the waffle maker and saw what was happening.

“Oh, shit, it’s burning!” Jules cried out.

Galvanized into action, Malcom reached over and flipped the power switch, turning the waffle maker off. He then lifted the top part up, and that’s when the fire alarm start blaring overhead in a robotic voice.

“Fire! Fire! Fire!”

At the almost ear-piercing noise, Dawn Corleone raced out of the room, adding to the chaotic moment.

“Jesus Christ, that’s loud,” Jules complained, only able to cover one ear because the other one was busy between her legs.

“It’s supposed to be loud, so everyone in the house can hear it,” Malcom said, raising his voice to be heard.

“Do you think your neighbors can hear it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Would they be the type to come over and check on you … or call the fire department?”

“I doubt it. I’ve never even met any of them.”

“How long will it keep doing that?”

“I don’t know. It’s never gone off before. Shit, maybe I should try and turn it off.”

Since the alarm was in the ceiling just above the island, Jules knew Malcom would have to get up onto the counter to do that, which meant he would have to pull out of her, and what they were currently doing would stop, and she didn’t want that. “No. Do you know how close I am to coming?”

“How close?”

“ Close. ”

They began moving again, and her claim proved to be true, as she came soon after, with him right behind.

Spent, he blanketed her body with his, and kissed her as she turned her head.

The fire alarm was still going off, but it had slowed down and wasn’t as loud as before.

When it tapered off and stopped, the sudden quiet was deafening.

They chuckled softly, only to have it interrupted a few seconds later by loud, insistent knocking at the front door .

“Shit,” they said at the same time, and froze, as they looked at one another with flustered panic.

There was more knocking, this time louder. “Is everything all right in there?” a man yelled through the door.

Relieved it obviously wasn’t the fire department, they nonetheless began scrambling, with Jules pushing against Malcom, who quickly pulled out of her, bringing a rush of fluid with him. He then yanked up his briefs and sweatpants, not bothering to clean himself off.

Another round of knocking at the door had Jules grabbing a nearby kitchen towel with one hand to wipe down her thighs, while impatiently waving in the direction of the front door with the other. “Go.”

He hesitated. “Does it look like I was just having sex?”

It was clearly something he was worried about, but there wasn’t time for that. “No, you don’t,” she told him, hating to lie, even though it was necessary to get him moving. “Now, go meet one of your neighbors.”