Whale Song:
Earlier than expected, Kat arrived home fuming and cursing like a sailor.
"God damn mother fucking assholes...!"
"What's wrong?" I asked as she actually pushed passed me, stalked up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door shut.
"Kat," Petra called up her face a mask of unbridled fear.
I imagine when living in the witness protection any break from the norm was a cause for terror. I thought about going upstairs and decided letting her cool off was the better part of valor.
"I think she needs some alone time," I said to Petra.
The dull pounding sound began before the last syllable left my mouth.
"Or not," Petra offered.
"I have an idea," I said and walked up the stairs.
I knocked on her door and Kat screamed from the other side of the door.
"Fuck off mom!"
"It's me..."
Click!
"Oh Nick... I'm sorry..." she apologized and I saw tears flowing down her beautiful face.
I cupped her head in my hand and she closed her eyes and leaned into my touch.
"I have a secret to share with you... will you follow me upstairs?" I asked.
"A secret, what kind of secret?" she asked her curiosity overriding her pain.
"A good secret but it has to stay between just us."
"Okay... I like us having a secret." Kat said gripping my arm and leaning on me.
"Take off your shoes," I said when we reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Of course lover," she said dreamily.
Barefoot we walked up the stairs and I led her to the middle closet. I hesitated for a moment and turned to tell her what this place was.
"My dad built this for me as an oasis, a quiet place for me to get away and I hope when this door is closed you respect that."
"Door?" she asked.
I pushed the switch and the door slid inwards. Kat let out a gasp of surprise and followed me into the dojo. I opened the shoji door to the gym and pointed at the heavy punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Instantly she made the connection. I handed her protective gloves for her to wear and told her the proper technique for punching the bag without hurting herself. Ten minutes later Kat body was covered in a fine layer of sweat and her work clothes clung to her enticingly. She stopped punching to take a break.
"And to think I thought you were going to drag me up here so I could fuck the anger out," she said smiling.
"We have all the time in the world for that; you need a creative outlet for your anger now."
"Thank you for sharing your secret," Kat said leaning over and kissing my neck, "I won't take advantage of it; dad built it for you after all... goose bumps!"
"And one big bump down below... but I have to finish cooking dinner... my treat for how well you two have welcomed me into your home..."
"...our home, that includes you now." Kat shot back.
"You look just like your mother when you get miffed."
"Mom got angry with you?" Kat asked.
"Oh yeah... I put cardboard in the regular trash can."
"Eep! She is a stickler when it comes to recycling, so you think I look sexy when I'm miffed?"
"Very sexy," I moaned in her ear.
"So you think my mom is hot too?"
Busted! I couldn't hide the guilty look but to my shock she waved me off.
"S'ok... where do you think I get my stunning good looks from?"
"And modest too..."
"Modest hell, if I didn't think mom would freak out I'd blow you right in front of her..."
"That would be an interesting conversation... sorry Petra I can explain why Kat's lips are currently wrapped around my cock..."
"Grrr..."
"What did I say this time?"
"I hate it when you call her Petra... she hates it too... can't you try and call her mom?"
"How long did it take you to call my father dad?"
"Point taken I'm sorry..."
"You and I have to come to the same agreement your mom and I have."
"What's that?"
"No more apologizing unless it is absolutely necessary... deal?"
"Deal... what did you say to her that needed an apology?"
"I think I smell my chicken burning... gotta run... close the door behind you when you leave."
While I was at the academy I was exposed to a lot of different guys from a variety of cultures. One of the unifying elements was food! When we had nothing to do we would talk about our favorite meals and on those rare outings away from the campus we went to different restaurants to share our cultural heritage. I have eaten Greek, Italian, Chinese, Mexican, German and French. I learned that what a family serves and what the customers ate were two different types of dishes often. So tonight I was fixing fried chicken using a recipe a friend from Georgia taught me. I hoped the 'girls' would like it and crossed my fingers when dinner time rolled around and we sat down to eat.
"Nicholas the food smells delicious!" Petra said licking her lips.
"I'm a little nervous I have never actually cooked this recipe before but I have it on great authority that it is to die for."
"Let's eat!" Kat chimed in as I got up and served them.
I walked around the table and let them take the chicken from the platter before moving to my seat and plopping two large pieces on my plate; I was starved! Then came the mashed potatoes, another southern recipe, and the home made gravy and the steamed vegetables and finally I poured Kat and I soda while Petra got a glass of wine.
"I love being waited on," Petra said and Kat just smiled.
"I like it when a man sees to my needs," Kat said grinning and laughing.
"What man could resist serving two women at the same time..." we all laughed and then ate in silence.
"Awk-ward..." Kat said breaking the silence.
"So how is the food?" I asked looking from mother to daughter.
"Excellent! I have never had fried chicken before," Petra said.
"No fucking way!" I blurted out but she shook her head.
"Nope, it has never touched my lips before today."
"Neither have I but I bet it will fill me up nicely."
"You two are killing me..." I said blushing.
"I agree with him," Kat offered, "he couldn't handle both of us."
"No man could sweetie." Petra chimed in grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
"Sounds like a challenge to me," I said and then closed my mouth and blushed furiously.
"Mmm mighty fine chicken," Kat said.
