Chapter 13: Kitchen

Words : 1573 Updated : Sep 18th, 2025

It was the only time he'd ever seen Mckenzie Looske in a dress. To call it a dress was generous; it was a wisp of gauze shaped like a dress. The veil was powdery pink, so sheer it was nearly transparent. Floating over her skin, it gave her a dreamy, soft-focus glow. Mckenzie turned her head. A telltale blush flickered across her cheeks, then receded. "Mr. Walker, I don't even know if you'll like what I made…" "I will…" Nixon Walker replied, dazed, his gaze fixed on her. She wore nothing beneath-bare under that thin pink veil. Through the sheer fabric, her desire was plain, as if a hundred little hands were beckoning him closer. He drifted toward her as if pulled, and before he closed the last bit of distance, he reached back and latched the kitchen door. "Mckenzie, you are gorgeous." Nixon lifted a hand and began to stroke her over the gauze. The fabric wasn't silky but faintly stiff. As he fondled her through it, the gauze rasped against her skin. A prickle of pleasure sparked where his hand touched her, then shivered outward until her knees weakened. He glanced at the stove. The dishes were already done; only a pot of chicken soup still burbled on low. "I made dinner ahead of time today…" Mckenzie said, slowly lifting her skirt. "Don't." Nixon pressed her hand down and guided it to his waist. Then he slid both arms around her from behind and pinned her against the counter by the stove. His heat rolled over her, head to toe. The moment she saw Nixon, her breath had gone shallow and quick, and now it quickened again. His hands traveled down. When they slid between her legs, he felt something unexpected. "What's this…" He understood in an instant. A toy. She had pushed it almost all the way inside, leaving just the tiniest bit outside-enough that he had felt it. He slid his hand around to her front. He pressed lightly. "Mmm-" A small, helpless sound slipped from her. There was something inside, indeed. "So there's something else in there. How are you keeping it from falling out?" "Just… clench. It's been inside me for a long time. When you didn't come, I felt parched and aching there. Now that you're here, I can finally take it out." Last night, even as she lay down to rest, her mind kept replaying what had happened with Nixon Walker. It had been the most satisfying time she'd known in years; even as she tried to sleep, her body begged for more. So, in the dark, she'd taken from the cabinet a toy she hadn't used in ages and slept with it in all night. In the morning, her daughter had asked why she was walking funny. Mckenzie had only blushed and said nothing. Nixon smiled, and heat pooled low in her belly. She was so wet she nearly lost it. She reached to pull it out, but Nixon caught her hand again. "Leave it. Just like that. Let's make a game of it…" At that, Mckenzie drew her hands back and folded them in front of her. She lowered her head, lifted her eyes, and couldn't hold his gaze. She wasn't some shy girl or a newlywed. She'd thought shame no longer lived in her. Yet with him, she was shy at every turn. "Mr. Walker… are you not satisfied?" "No, no." Nixon gathered her close again and murmured at her ear, "I'm more than satisfied. You're so damn hot." Reassured, she laughed with him, light and breathless. Play turned swiftly into something else. Nixon turned her around and laid her across the counter, then started spanking her over the gauze, one measured swat at a time. Because the gauze stood between his palm and her skin, there was no sharp crack. The sound was low and muffled, a restrained thud that made her tremble harder. She had never known this kind of play. With her late husband, everything had been by the book, as if he'd only wanted a child, while she had wanted more. Nixon kept it controlled-precise, enough to thrill without hurting. "Does it hurt?" he asked, punctuating the question with another controlled smack. "Mmm… don't…" Mckenzie lifted her head, shook it wildly, and gulped for air. Reading her, Nixon stopped. He drew back, denied her his touch, left her empty. "Since you don't want it, I won't spank you." "No!" Without looking back, she reached behind her, fumbling for him. Nixon offered his hand just then. "What is it, Mckenzie?" he asked, grinning, wicked and patient. "Hit me… baby." "I don't understand." He rested his hand on her and stroked, gentle as a tease, refusing to deliver the blow. The more she begged, the stiller he held. "Please… don't tease me," Mckenzie whispered, a tiny sob threading through her voice. Her eyes had gone hazy and luminous, glazed with a thin film of tears. He held firm. Driven to the edge, she finally gave in and blurted, voice breaking, "Do it. Spank me. I want it. Hard… ah!" Smack!

Chapter 13: Kitchen

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