“Shocking, you haven’t bragged about this yet,” Mabel remarks, a smirk across her face.
“Don’t want to make anyone feel bad, being so versatile at so many things,” I jest back.
“Where Kiara only wanted singing lessons. No need to buy any extra equipment for her to do that.” Dad smiles.
“Yes, she had a wonderful voice.” Mum looks at Mabel with a smile. “But ended up getting such terrible stage fright in her teens.”
“I have heard that is a really common occurrence,” Mabel validates.
“That’s what her singing teacher told us all, too. She was happy doing the lessons and singing around the house. Good enough for us. As long as she was happy,” Mum adds wistfully.
Our server arrives to clear up our plates, and we ask to settle the bill before heading up to our hotel rooms from the hotel’s restaurant. We stop outside Mabel’s hotel room as she hugs Dad and Mum.
“So wonderful to meet you both. I look forward to the next laptop call,” Mabel declares.
“It was a pleasure,” Dad replies.
“We’ll look at availabilities for the last race and organise a dinner. We went to a wonderful place in Brisbane last year that Kiara loved. I’m sure you’ll be a fan, too.” Mum comes in for a second hug with Mabel.
“Sounds great. I look forward to it,” Mabel replies.
They part and start heading towards my room.
“See you later,” I remark and flash Mabel a knowing smirk.
“See you later,” she returns with her wicked smile that I am looking forward to turning into a lip bite very soon.
The minutes tick by agonisingly slow as Mum and Dad settle in for the night.
Long, unnecessary conversations about who someone is in the show they are currently watching. Who was going to jump in the shower after I went in after dinner? Did I want to go out for breakfast tomorrow when we were on the cusp of wrapping up the evening and Mum was making her way into their bedroom?
As I waited in my room, Mabel sends through a few teasing selfies from the next hotel room.
I crack my bedroom door and wait a moment. Sensing the sounds in the room. I can hear the muffled sounds of both of my parents snoring behind their closed door, signalling they are asleep.
Tiptoeing through the room to the door is delicate work to ensure I am not tripping over furniture or creaking the door as I open and shut it silently behind me.
Mabel texted me that she’d leave the door unlocked so I could get in without knocking, so I turn her doorknob as quietly as possible and slip in.
As soon as I enter, the kitchen is directly to my side. And sitting on the counter is an already naked Mabel. Her elbows prop her up, causing the long lines of her torso to strain and flex, the only light on is an overhead in the kitchen.
“‘Bout time.” She raises a can of whipped cream. “Hope you’re not too full?”
“Not at all.”
“Good boy,” she coos and my dick loves the praise.
She raises the can’s nozzle to her breasts and dots two peaks of cream on her nipples.
“Are you waiting for an invitation, hotshot?” she cheekily asks when I am frozen in spot, unable to redirect a small portion of blood away from my dick to my legs.
“Nope. Just admiring,” I say as I move towards her.
She opens her legs for me to stand between them. My hands are on the counter on either side of her hips. Playfulness and yearning dancing in her eyes as she tracks my approach.
Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I dip my head down and lick the cream from one nipple, and then move to the next. Her eyes stay connected to mine, starting to hood. While she’s distracted, my hands meet the can and I lift it triumphantly in the air.
“Thief,” she injects.
