“You’re making me waffles?” Cassie asks, impressed. “I didn’t even know I had a waffle iron.”
“You didn’t. Okay, off to bed again, wench!” I cry, brandishing my spatula.
Cassie looks down to between my legs, licking her lips. “As long as you don’t burn my dessert,” she says, turning around and giving me a peek at her ass that proves she’s not wearing anything under that football jersey.
I take my time, making sure everything is perfect on the plate before setting it on the towel-covered cookie sheet. Cassie sadly lacks any sort of TV tray. I carry it into the bedroom, where Cassie is leaning back against the pillow-covered headboard, the jersey pushed up dangerously high.
“Damn, woman, you’re gonna make me balance this tray with three body parts if you sit around like that.”
“Like what? This old thing?” and with a pouty lip, she slowly swirls the hem up higher and higher on her legs, just teasing me with a hint of her sweet bare pussy.
I groan, getting closer to the bed. “My lady.” I offer the makeshift tray.
“Breakfast in bed?” Cassie squeals, clapping her hands. “I thought you were going to call me out to the living room.”
“Well, special occasions call for special efforts,” I reply, carefully setting the tray on her lap. “Now, gimme a minute to go get my food and we can dig in.”
Breakfast is delicious, waffles drowned in butter and maple syrup, nearly half a slab of bacon each, and instead of coffee, I made chocolate milk. “Well, not what I expected,” Cassie says as she sets her glass down, smacking her lips, “but I have to say, it goes well with it.”
“I got the idea when I came in early to Mindy’s Place the night after that bad storm last year. Front window was busted out so she closed the place, and she was experimenting,” I reply. “Cookies n’ cream frappe, which was great when they reopened. I helped with cleanup and the window, and Mindy gave me one with a bacon and egg sandwich, since she had to use the bacon before it went over. Best damn breakfast I’d had in a year.”
“I’ll have to thank her then,” Cassie says, sighing happily. “So you say a special occasion, huh?”
“Well, saying I love you, our being an official couple, all that . . . yeah, waffles and chocolate milk.”
We finish up our breakfast, and when I come back from dropping the dishes into the sink, Cassie’s looking shy, like doubts might be starting to creep into her mind. Wanting to make her smile, I jump on the bed, pinning her and tickling her. She screeches and starts flailing crazily, and it’s game on, tickle fight. We toss and turn, discovering each other’s spots and laughing loudly.
Unfortunately, I should know Cassie better. She hates to lose and never fights fair. When I find that the backs of her knees are ticklish, she shoves her ass in my face while at the same time grabbing my cock, distracting me long enough for her to bury her lips on my belly button and blow a huge belly fart that leaves me gasping for breath. Finally, I cry out. “Truce, truce!”
Cassie stops. I’ve got her foot while she’s got her other foot in my armpit, and I see her big true smile that fills my heart. “You called for it first, so the winner, AND STILL champion, Cassie ‘Snow’ WHIIIIIIITE!” She makes an echo sound like a distant crowd cheering, and I let it go on for a moment before making a honking sound like a horn interrupting. “What?”
“By the agreed-upon rules of the Marquis of Ticklesbury, when one party calls for a truce and it is accepted, only for the other party to renege on that truce, that party is henceforth disqualified. So, in fact, your true champion is Caleb ‘Crusher’ Strong!”
I give her a little jostle and she lightly slaps at my chest, and with a big sigh, we snuggle. Cassie nestles against my chest, sighing happily. “I’m gonna call for my rematch someday though. The Tickle Belt is defended under the twenty-four/seven rule, you know.”
“I know,” I joke, kissing the top of her head. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“So, uh . . . now what? I’m your girlfriend for now, but what about—” Cassie asks, her worries only momentarily sidetracked by our tickle fight. I interrupt her before she can finish with a big kiss that shuts her up like a switch has been thrown.
“Cassie, you’re my everything for as long as you want to be. Remember, I didn’t run on you.”
“What about that time I came by the house and you were acting all weird on me?”
I shrug. “Okay, point taken. But Cassie, I was trying to figure out what was happening. I mean, it wasn’t long before that when we both said this was just a fuck buddy arrangement, and I realized the night I stayed here the last time that I was falling for you, and it scared the shit out of me, especially when I thought it was only on my side.”
Cassie sighs. “This is all sorts of fucked up, you know that?”
I nod and turn to look her in the eyes. “Look, we’ve both got some issues, but I’m willing to trust that you won’t stomp my heart if you’re willing to trust that I’m not swimming away at the first available opportunity. I love you, Cass.”
“I love you too,” she says as she stretches up to meet my lips in a soft kiss, pulling back after a moment. “Deal. No swimming, no stomping,” she says, pointing first at me, then at herself. “Now that’s settled, what about the house?” Cassie asks. “I mean, you said you gave your house to Oliver as part of the payment for 614 Douglas.”
“What about it?” I ask. “Cassie,
