My daughter in law

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Ch. 77: Reflections

We didn’t only go shopping. After checking off the most important things on Martina’s list of baby supplies and buying two large bags of baby clothes, we went to take a look at the three plots of land that could possibly end up being our new home. I’d already picked my favorite, which I held secret until Martina revealed hers. But then she made me aware that the closest neighbor seemed to be some kind of animal hoarder, and had at least thirteen dogs barking in the front yard. A couple of them looked like they would eat Sailor for lunch. So, no. My initial choice was obviously not the right one.

In addition to that, another neighbor came over to ask what we were doing. He was a middle-aged man who was scarily similar to a certain Mr. Richmond. Or ask? It was more an interrogation. He even started pointing out where the property boundary lines were, and that he wouldn’t accept fences anywhere near his garden because it would ruin his view. Nor did he want us to plant trees or tall bushes, which were included in our backyard plans. If we chose that place, we’d surely sign up for a dispute I already knew would end up in court.

We chose a place close to Pedro Point in Pacifica, a twenty-minute ride from the city. It was laying on a slope, which would increase the expenses leveling out the terrain, but we would manage somehow. Besides, a terraced garden would only add to the impression of the house and make it more wholesome. It was the closest one to my job and in walking distance to a brand-new daycare, plus it was perfect for hiking. It didn’t hurt that you could spot the ocean in the far distance as well.

Martina was right. It was perfect.

“How soon do you think we can start the building process?” Martina asked.

We were waiting for our food at the same restaurant that had the solid wooden door, which added to Martina’s eagerness. Her eyes sparkled, and I listened carefully to all the ideas she came up with to decorate the house. And there sure was a lot.

“As soon as the papers are ready and we’ve bought the land. I’ll call a few contractors tomorrow and get an estimate on the cost of the house. Then we’ll go for the lowest bidder, I guess.”

Martina beamed at me, and I loved the feeling her smile always seemed to trigger inside my chest.

“After doing some research to make sure they’ll do a good job,” I added with a mumble, and despite her young age it actually seemed like she knew what I was talking about. Projects that are ruined by a cracked budget because of useless contractors are never fun. Just ask Quentin.

“Are you ready to place your orders?” a green-eyed boy suddenly asked right next to me. We had been so consumed by our conversation that we didn’t even notice his approach. And I say boy because that’s what he was. I wasn’t even sure if he was old enough to be working as a waiter.

He was slim, had red, wavy hair, and grinned with a polite smile that showed off teeth that looked like they’d been thrown into his mouth. Despite that he seemed to have enough confidence for an entire army, and was probably used to charm his way into every girl’s panties, thanks to his billions of freckles.

I glared at his name tag.

“Well, Shawn... Ouch!”

Martina had kicked me under the table, and everything about her dared me to say another word. Anything insulting, at least.

“We’ll just have burgers and fries,” she said with a smile that was directed to the boy. I pursed my lips and sighed frustratedly through my nose.

She knows you too well, Aaron. And you promised her to tone that alpha male down a bit. Yeah. But that fucker…

“Right, Aaron?”

Martina’s raised eyebrows told me she expected answer to a question I didn’t get, but I just nodded and pretended to know anyway.

“Y-yeah. Uhm...”

“So, two burgers with cheese, two large fries, Fanta Exotic for you and Heineken for him?” the boy repeated, to make sure he got it right. And when Martina confirmed, he scurried off with his notebook and stupid freckles.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and expected to get scolded for my childish behavior. Instead she got up and made me scoot over to the next seat, before she sat down and leaned in to say something.

“How practical to get a table by the window once again,” she started, and her mischievous smirk made me nervous. My eyes darted from her face to her palm that suddenly was placed strategically on my thigh, but she managed to keep a calm face and was looking everywhere else but at me. That confused me.

“You know...” she whispered and stroked a couple of times up and down between my knee and crotch.

“I was thinking that we can have a follow up to our previous restaurant visit.”

This time she met my gaze, and together with what her hand did, her eyes sent a straight message to my lower regions. Then she bit her lip the way she knew drove me crazy, and cupped my bulge in her hand and squeezed just enough to make me let out a sharp breath through an open mouth.

“It’s adventure time,” she purred and leaned close, and I felt each word her lips formed against my ear-shell.

It took a lot to make me flustered, but right now I was. I was literally sweating. It was always me who took control in situations like these. Not the other way around. And when the woman in charge was Martina... Say no more.

“Too bad the tablecloth is too short to keep others from seeing me going down on you, don’t you think?”

I just gulped and shut my eyes because of the intense feeling that flushed like a tidal wave through my body.

“You’d like that, don’t you? Me sitting on my knees between your legs, while I’m looking up at you with your dick in my mouth?”

“Oh, my God,” was my response to her seductive whisper. I knew she could see the changes in me. My shallow breathing, the heat burning in my cheeks and the massive erection that was growing in my pants. And I knew she enjoyed it just as much as I loved doing this to her. The only difference is that she could hide her state. I couldn’t. So when the young boy came back with our drinks, I instantly removed her hand and tried to cross my legs. When that didn’t work, I leaned forward with my elbows on the table and gave him an awkward nod. Martina just giggled and thanked him. But as soon as he walked off, she continued her sweet torture.

“My pussy is so wet,” she stated, just as she started to stroke me outside my jeans again.

“She wants your big dick to fill her up until your balls get squeezed between us.”

“Holy fuck, Bambi,” I groaned silently. I struggled so hard to pretend like nothing, and I wanted so desperately to return what she was doing to me, that I frowned like I was in pain. But I didn’t dare. This was risky enough.

“To feel you pound all those inches into me until you can’t hold back anymore.”

She started pulling at the button on my jeans, but failed.

“Open them,” she ordered, and my paranoia shot through the roof. Still, after some discreet fumbling with trembling hands, I finally felt her soft skin and gentle fingers cool around my cock.

“Mmm... You’re leaking precum,” she hummed and smirked. I felt her thumb circle lightly around the tip, spreading the sticky fluid, followed by one slow, firm stroke that made my eyes roll back. I knew I had to cum fast, but if she chose to keep teasing me like that, I wouldn’t manage. At least not before Mr. Freckles returned with our food.

For a moment I contemplated whether or not to pull Martina into one of the toilets and fuck her up against the wall, but eventually I decided against it. It would draw too much attention if I suddenly started stuffing my boner back into my pants, and then dragged her from the table right before the food was served. Instead I placed my hand on hers and made her stroke a little faster.

“You’re so thick. Especially at the root,” she complimented, and a quick glance at her face showed a blush that I knew came from arousal. Her panties were probably drenched.

“Holy fuck. You’re going to kill me.”

She giggled quietly at my obvious desperation.

“Let’s call it payback for last time, then.”

Despite my attempt to make her stroke faster, she actually slowed down. But she kept squeezing hard enough to push me closer to the edge.

“I didn’t order any dip for my fries, because I thought you could fix that for me.”

I wanted to chuckle at that, but she increased the speed again and made it hard to breathe without panting.

“Do you think you can do that? Just a little extra spice that I can lick off my fingers when you’re done?”

The image of her lips around my thumb the first time we gave into our desires that time in the kitchen, played in my head in slow motion. Then the memory of her doing exactly what she’d done several times before; lapping up my cum from her hand before it became too messy.

I nodded quickly and held my breath. I was close.

“Imagine your dick pushing down my throat until I gag.”

Oh, I had no problem doing that.

“Or me sitting on top of you... Shit.”

Her hand disappeared, and I let out a frustrated gasp for not being able to finish. Then I realized how embarrassing it would be to cum right in front of the young waiter, who fortunately was naive enough not to notice anything out of the ordinary. Martina covered me the best she could by turning her entire torso toward him, and I was quick to cover myself with my t-shirt.

“Holy Moses, that was close,” she giggled when he left.

“Tell me about it,” I muttered sourly, which caused Martina to pout innocently.

“Now you know how I felt that day.”

I stuffed a couple of fries into my mouth and chewed, and she did the same. At least nobody had noticed us. But when I started tucking my annoying piece of wood back in my boxers, she stopped me.

“I didn’t get my dip yet,” she said with a hushed voice. Her eyes had that teasing glow again, and her hand went back to doing exactly what I needed.

“I swear, you’re gonna be the death of me one day.”

She just giggled. Luckily, she seemed to be done teasing. After rubbing more precum around the tip, she kept a firm grip while she stroked in a rhythm that brought me rapidly back to my desired peak. I just hoped we didn’t draw attention. I tried to keep a relaxed face, but it was hard to refrain from squeezing my eyes shut and visually reveal the pleasure I felt right at that moment. Instead I clenched my jaw closed so hard it hurt, while my uneven breath made my nose wings vibrate.

“Don’t hold back,” she coaxed, and I strangled a moan.

“You have no idea how much I want you to cum in my mouth right now.”

“Fuck,” I groaned, grateful for the buzzing from people talking and laughing around us. I could literally feel her lips around my cock and how her head bobbed up and down. It was insane. And just as I knew it was too late to stop, she even stepped it up a notch. She simply dropped her fork to the floor and pretended to reach for it, while she in reality did exactly what I was fantasizing about.

The warmth of her mouth enveloping my tip came at the exact same second as I felt the first twitch. Her hand kept stroking, and her tongue and lips created a little vacuum that brought me to a higher climax than expected, and my hand gripped her hair to hold her there. Spurt after spurt pumped up my shaft and filled her mouth, and I could hear her struggle to swallow fast enough. I almost forgot where we were for a moment, until she pulled away while licking her lips clean. It was first then we noticed the middle-aged couple next to us.

I wasn’t sure if they’d figured out what just happened, but their attention was definitely not on their food.

Fuck. You probably moaned or some shit, Aaron. They know. They have to. Or do they?

By impulse I stuffed my face with fries while simultaneously covering myself up with my t-shirt. Then I moaned loudly, and this time to draw attention on purpose.

“Yowly phrief ey’ve goph hewe,” I mumbled, with my mouth so full that a couple of fries actually fell out. Martina started laughing and picked up one of them. Then she followed my example and stuffed her mouth full too, while moaning and rubbing her belly.

“Weavy gooph,” she said, and tried not to inhale her food. But our distraction worked. The woman rolled her eyes and gave her husband a look that spoke in clear letters of how disgusting we were. Then they went back to minding their own business, while we cracked up in fits of laughter.

Martina got a new fork and finished her burger in a more decent way than I did; handheld and gobbling it down like I was the frigging cookie monster. Not because I didn’t have manners. I just didn’t use them. I was too high from my orgasm to really care. Besides, I loved the way Martina struggled to keep from laughing, and the clear secondhand embarrassment that constantly kept her cheeks glowing red. But eventually we calmed down and shared a banana split for dessert.

“Bambi?”

“Mhm?”

I watched another spoon of vanilla ice-cream with chocolate sauce disappear into her mouth and smiled to myself. I was still pleasantly numb from what that mouth did merely half an hour ago. Not that it stopped me from appreciating the sight of the pink tip of her tongue when she licked her lips, though. But I wanted to know.

“You didn’t mean anything about the depression part, did you?”

She looked surprised.

“Are you...?”

“No, I’m not depressed, baby.”

I loved when she called me that, but I needed to be convinced.

“But it sounded so real.”

“Good acting skills,” she snickered, but turned serious again.

“My mom had it. She was severely depressed both before and after she had me, and she was on meds for a few years after. That’s why I don’t have any siblings.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah. She’s doing well now though, but after I found out that I was pregnant, I read about it in case it happened to me. And I actually started to think that I was, until I realized that it was because I was missing you so much.”

We smiled at each other, and both felt the emotions behind those words. And when she leaned against my shoulder, I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her in for a hug. But just as I kissed her temple, we heard someone clearing their throat discreetly. It was the red head again.

“Did the food taste good?”

We looked at each other and giggled a bit.

“It sure was. May we have the bill?”

“Certainly, sir.”

Only minutes after, we’d paid and got ready to leave. Martina was happy when I included a nice tip for Mr. Freckles, and I was happy because she was.

Don’t forget the other reason too, Aaron. As if that was possible.

It was dark when the door closed behind us, and the dim city lights made San Francisco glow with its typical night gown. Since it was in the middle of the week, the party factor was pretty mellow, but there was still something magical about it. About this night. Or more specifically; the woman next to me. So I stopped her.

“Oh, my God! Don’t move,” I exclaimed with drama in my voice, and she immediately froze in her tracks.

“What?” she asked, confused and wide-eyed.

“I just saw the prettiest woman I’ve seen all my life.”

She frowned and I could see that she wanted to look around.

“Ohhh. I bet she’s tired of people staring at her all the time, because she’s really beautiful,” I continued, and smirked when I saw a growing annoyance in her. But I kept on.

“Don’t look right away, just slowly turn to your left.”

Her eyes flickered with insecurity.

“A little more,” I urged, but she didn’t understand why I made her turn toward the building we walked past on our way to the car.

“More.”

“Aaron...” she started, until the realization slowly dawned on her. She was looking at her own reflection in the dark window of something that looked like a huge storage.

“Do you see her?”

“You goof,” she giggled, but I could see it hit home with her because her eyes got glossy. So I wrapped my arms around her from behind and hugged her tightly. And like always I inhaled through my nose and let myself get consumed by her lovely scent of wildflowers.

“She’s the nicest, prettiest and most loving woman I know. And do you know what’s the best thing about her?”

Martina sniffled, but the reflection was too dark to see if she was crying or not.

“That’s she’s mine.”

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