I Think He Knows

𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿, 𝗼𝗸𝗮𝘆?

A̸𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗿 D̸𝗮𝘃𝗶𝘀
𝟮𝟰
☾

I sat on the cupboard next to where he was mixing up homemade pancakes, my eyes were glued to the veins that showed through his pale skin as he held the whisk in hand. I didn't think I had a hand fetish until I saw the way the veins ran down his forearm and through his fingers like roots from his heart as the muscles flexed, for some odd reason it was extremely seductive. The first thought popping into my mind was how I wanted to know if that was how his hand looked gripping something much different than a kitchen utensil. I guess you could call it my private whisk, aka Lil Ash™️.

I'll have to pay more attention if we ever do the dirty again in the future.

When he turned around taking a step- because that was all it took to get to anything in this tiny ass kitchen- to the stove I watched his ass instead, thoroughly enjoying myself. I raised my leg up and poked his ass cheek earning myself a glare from the hottie himself and smiled. "Do you want coffee?" I asked.

"Yes please," He smiled back politely and looked back at the pan. Once I hopped off the counter I smacked his ass on the way toward the Keurig, "pervert."

"Bubble butt," I shot back and he chuckled at the name not offended in the least. It was honestly a compliment, I wished I could have an ass like his. I'm always the one taking it up the ass I should have the best one.

"Thank you," He said with a smooth wink.

Please sex me in my cardboard shaped ass, please Mason.

"You're welcome," I replied sarcastically. I stuck in the K-cup and recalled the way he used to stick his dick in me too. He was the K-cup to my Keurig, the whisk in my bowl, the runny pancake batter to my pan. I'm such a poet.

"Hey, Asher," Elliott called from the dining table on the other side of the cupboards. "Louis, Penny, Bowie, and Jesse are coming in an hour. Is that okay?"

I crouched down to look through the space between the cupboards and counter, seeing Elliott, Thomas, and Jake on the other side, and nodded, "yeah that's fine. No mom?" I asked and Elliott's eyes softened as he shook his head.

"No, I don't think she's coming," He informed me and I tried to hide the fact it hurt me. I wished she would apologize to me, that's all I wanted was a simple 'I'm sorry Asher' for ruining my birthday.

"Well fuck you too then mother," I mumbled under my breath, Mason must've heard since he looked over at me with worry written across his features. "Okay," I said louder to Elliott.

"I'm sorry Ash," Elliott told me in a saddened voice.

"You're not the one who should be sorry El," I told him. "And I'm okay with it, can't be disappointed when you're not surprised."

The coffee maker had been dripping the last few drops into the medium-sized mug, all of our dinnerware I had sculpted. I picked out the frog cup for Mason, not for any specific reason other than I thought he'd like it. "How do you like your coffee? Any cream or sugar or whatever?" I asked him.

"Just a little creamer," He said with a look of concern over the issue with my mom still on his face.

"Okay," I replied in a cheery voice so that he would quit looking at me like that. "Ha cream," I chuckled just to push the fact that I was okay. Then I sat the mug next to the stove, and smiled up at him, "I made this cup by the way."