Twelve Months – May by PrimalDual

Twelve Months – May by PrimalDual

Looking for a steamy adult sex story to heat up your May? Check out "Twelve Months - May" for an erotic tale that will leave you wanting more.<br/>
Katey’s Cootchie

Twelve Months: Saturday, May 1

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“If I wrote a book, would you buy it?”

“Shrimp? Could you at least let me get in the door, and get my coat off, before you bombard me with crazy questions?”

Katey was not put off by the remark from her boyfriend and resumed preparing the spaghetti she had planned for dinner. The side salad was already made, both salad dressings he liked were on the table, as were the plates and silverware and wine glasses and a bottle of red. She was trying so hard to make it perfect for him, and now she regretted not having started boiling the water for the pasta sooner, because she could have used the time while it was heating up to do these other preparations. Oh well, she thought, live and don’t learn – that was the dismissive way he often phrased it to her.

Mitch eventually made his way into the spacious kitchen, after a quick visit to the bathroom and then a look at the day’s mail Katey had placed on the tray for him by the front door. “Dinner running late?” he asked evenly.

“Sorry. Almost ready.”

He approached her at the center island, as she stirred in the last of the seasonings the recipe on her phone called for and wrapped his arms around her waist. She responded by using her free left hand to try to guide his hands up to her medium-large breasts, but he left them at navel level and then let go entirely. “Stop it,” she giggled flirtatiously, as though he had groped her, even as she crouched slightly to allow the knob of the cabinet door to graze her Venus mound while she continued stirring the pot. Setting the utensil down, she turned and reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck. He towered over her by nearly a foot, but she leaned in, aiming to kiss his lips. He turned his head, and she pecked his cheek instead. “Aw,” she pouted, “can’t *wait* until we get to stop using rubbers again.” The sound of the tomato sauce bubbling and threatening to get out of control made her break their embrace and turn back around. “Now see what you made me do?” she accused playfully, as she dabbed up a couple of red blotches on the marble counter. “I made a wet spot.”

He gave her a little space and moved to her right. “I shouldn’t have started anything. We both know it can’t lead anywhere.”

“Don’t say that. There’s always *something*.” She rubbed against the cabinet door again, for emphasis.

He changed the subject back. “So, what’s this about becoming a best-selling author, Shrimp? Too late for an April Fool’s joke. This is *May* First. Mayday, Mayday!”

She stopped grinding and turned her head, though still stirring the sauce. “No. I’m serious. I went down and saw Brittany for lunch today, and….”

“You drove? Today? The road was a little icy at the top. Winter just won’t quit, this year. Saw two cars spun out at Deadman’s. You be careful when driving to El Cuenca, okay? You don’t know that road like I do. I thought the whole idea of you quitting your job was that you didn’t want to drive it, anyway. Especially when there’s weather.”

“I didn’t want to have to be at the DMV by 7:45 every morning, was what. That was the point. It’s a lot farther, starting from here. And in the dark, in the winter anyway. And you know they weren’t paying that well. Wasn’t hardly worth it. Anyway I don’t mind the drive, at least in daylight. It was fine. C’mon, my Audi is safe.”

“*My* Audi.”

“Your Audi. Didn’t have a bit of trouble. I never knew what a difference four-wheel drive made, until I met you. I was back before the snow even got heavy again. Anyway, Brit said that I…”

“Brittany. She’s the one with the tits, right?”

Katey looked away from the cooking pan and toward him. “*All* my friends have tits, duh. I don’t have any guy friends. Not anymore. You said. Just you.” She stopped stirring, turned off the gas to the burner, and pivoted entirely toward him.

“I was just joking. But you have to admit…”

“I know.” She undid the second and third buttons of her floral print blouse and ceremoniously undid the front clasp of her bra, pushing the two cups aside, revealing her oversize areolas, more pinkish than medium brown, nicely darker than the surrounding pale skin. “But I do too, baby.”

“Not like hers. But you don’t have the long face and the weird chin that she does, either. But don’t distract me. I’m starving,” he said with a forced smile. “Cover back up, would you?”

She rebuttoned one, just enough to barely cover her guns. “Yeah, but I’m saving it for later, baby. At least I can maybe make you forget about Brit.”

“Her tits make my dick hard, what can I say. But then, so do yours.” Katey’s blouse wasn’t transparent, but the fabric was thin enough to reveal the contour of her erect nipples with the bra out of the way.

“More so. I hope!” She reached over to try to fondle his crotch, but he stepped back just out of range and turned toward the table.

“Yes, and more so. More so than Bethany, for sure,” he said.

“Don’t be mean. She can’t help it.”

“Anyway, what about Brittany?”

“She was saying that I should write a book.”

“And that I should buy it? You mean all the copies, so it can be a bestseller? Or just one to read?” He sat down at his side of the table.

“Just one, silly. That’s what I was asking.” She lifted the pot of meat sauce from the stove and began to carry it over to the dining nook.

“Well, if you made it sexy enough. Not some watered-down romance novel. Those books always promise steamy action, but the sex scenes are pure crap every time. Ocean waves and heaving bosoms and fireworks and, well, crap. Every. Time.”

“Not all of them. Lotta them have dicks and boobs and cootchies at least in one chapter somewhere in the middle. I think it’s so the censors won’t find it.” She chuckled to reinforce the intended humor.

“Well, not that you’d ever catch me reading one, to be honest. I’ve just heard.”

“Yeah, and I’d rather watch porn than read those either, to be honest. No, I was talking about… thinking… something else. Not that kind of book. Not made up. A How To book, maybe, or something.”

“What do you know how to do?” he asked rhetorically, pausing as if to ponder. “What do you know how to do? Oh wait, I know! You can write a book on how to suck a cock!”

She snickered and came back to the stove. “Maaaaybe,” she said leadingly. “I could do some, you know, *personal* research on that right now.”

“Slow your roll, Midget. You know what the doctor said,” he reminded. “Four more days, then another test. The test is what’s important, more than the days on a calendar.”

She picked up the pot of vermicelli and drained the hot water into the colander sitting in the sink. “Spoilsport. Anyway, speaking of that, Brit said I could do a book about our trip to Cabo, for instance.”

Mitch paused to ponder, this time for real. “Wait, you *told* her?”

“Why not? It happened.” She shook the colander to get rid of the last of the liquid still clinging.

“We only got to be there for, well basically, a day,” he said. “You didn’t even get to sit at the beach… but, you didn’t tell her about… you know, *all* about it? Did you?”

Katey brought the colander over to the table where he was waiting. “Of course I did. Sure. She’s my friend. And she’s not as conservative as Bethany. You can’t shock Brit with much of anything. I knew she wouldn’t freak out.”

“So, um, what was her reaction?”

“She said I should write a book. Come on, serve yourself. Let’s eat. You said you were starving.”

“Oh. Right. The book. Look, for about the twentieth time… I’m sorry. Really, really, sorry. Okay? I never had a, well, an idea that went so wr-…, so out of control, you know? It’s not like I’m some super experienced drug merchant.”

“I know, baby. It was *my* fault. You were doing it for *me*. Live and don’t learn, right?”

Mitch abruptly stood up and went back to the kitchen where he retrieved a corkscrew. He returned and opened the wine bottle, reminding her while doing so that it really was better if it was opened fifteen minutes prior to serving. He poured a generous amount for each of them. Despite his attempt to deliver the point gently, she looked hurt but merely nodded in agreement.

He went back to his thought from a minute earlier. “Mexico. I mean, in retrospect, duh. I never tried in a foreign country before. I’m just glad that…”

“It happened. Can’t change the past. I’m over it.”

“Well… good. Let’s talk about something else.” He picked up a forkful of lettuce and a cherry tomato in one stab. “Uh, is Brittany still fighting with her boyfriend?”

“It sounds like they made up, again. They fight, just so they can have make-up sex, I always think.”

Mitch spun his fork in the spaghetti, to wrap some pasta while picking up the sauce, which was pretty clumpy even though whole tomatoes or even diced had not been used. “What was the source of conflict this time?”

“He’s still looking for a better job. But at least he promised not to look back home. In Utah.”

“Yeah, those Morm-… ugh, what is this?” He fished something out of his mouth and held it on his index finger for her to diagnose.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. What *is* it?”

He looked a second time. “I think it’s a piece of garlic peel. Ugh. It’s like paper. You’re supposed to peel that part off, before you cut it.”

Katey looked almost ready to cry. None of the increasingly frequent sexual humiliations ever really fazed her because she treated them like a game. But direct and genuine criticism often caused her to lose composure in a flash. “I’m sorry. The recipe didn’t say! Just ‘slice one clove of garlic.'”

He looked closer at the sauce. “Looks like more than one clove. What, did you use a whole bulb?”

“What’s the difference?”

“You’ve really nev-…” he began to ask, then stopped. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Live and don’t learn, didn’t you just say?” He tried to smile reassuringly.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll remember.”

He fished around on his plate a bit and came up with another unpalatable morsel. “You should cut off the root ends, too,” he said, displaying a rough tentacled bit.