Page 22 of Learning to Change

After I made the eggs.

I heard a kissing sound from the living room, but before I could get distracted, Tate made it clear what was happening. “Go get dressed. No underwear but you can put on whatever regular clothes you feel like.”

Oh, I liked that order…it was teasing for everybody.

“Why didn’t I get to kiss you, Master?” Yes, he was definitely still Master if he was giving orders. “I’m feeling neglected.”

Communication was so important.

“Brat.” Maybe, but his happy tone said I didn’t have to worry about the consequences of my choice of communication styles. “I’m going to give you a bigger one once you’re not sticky.”

“I like big ones.” I didn’t realize what I’d said until Tate snorted out a laugh. “Okay, I think I’ll like big ones of those too.”

Hmm.

“Big ones. Little ones. Fat ones. Skinny ones. They’re all amazing.” Yes, I could appreciate all of them under the right circumstances.

The problem was figuring out my circumstances.

“Are you talking about penises or pastries, naughty boy?” Tate came up behind me and looked over my shoulder at the bowl of eggs. “What smells so good?”

“Chocolate croissants and the potatoes that I’m frying and possibly the fruit I cut up.” Hmm. “I’m kind of hungry.”

And they’d been in the bathroom for longer than they thought.

“Orgasms will do that to a naughty boy.” Kissing my neck, Tate stroked my sides and rocked his erection against my ass. “Thank you for making us breakfast.”

“That’s…” Wow. “That’s a really good way to say thank you.”

Tate made a naughty, pleased sound. “I’ll remember that, and I’m also going to remember that I owe you some attention and I want to orgasm with you at some point.”

That was a wonderful plan.

“Yes, please.” Pushing my ass back, I wiggled and clenched my cheeks. “I won’t let you forget the plan.”

Chuckling, he squeezed my hips just hard enough to help me remember who was in control. “Don’t make me come yet, slut. I want to be able to enjoy you.”

Even better plan.

“How do you want to enjoy me?” It was a very good question, but he got distracted kissing my neck. And my ear. And then back on my neck. “You’re messing with me.”

Tate nearly giggled before he stepped back and spanked my bottom lightly. “You’re such a smart cutie. But food first. Dirty talk second.”

“I can multitask. Honest.” I could try at the very least.

I looked over my shoulder to see Tate rolling his eyes.

Okay, maybe I didn’t multitask well all the time. But I wouldn’t know about how dirty talk would change things until I’d gotten to do it.

“Well, I have to figure out if I can dirty talk and cook at some point, so there’s no time like the present.” I shrugged and went back to whisking the eggs. “You’re preventing me from figuring out how successful I’ll be.”

“You’re juggling like five different things in the kitchen right now, so forgive me if I want you to think about what you’re doing.” Tate went over to the cabinet that held the plates and grabbed three down for us. “But let’s go back to the dirty talk aspect of this. You put that you liked it on your list, but I can’t remember if you mentioned how much practice you’ve had.”

Hmm.

“I don’t remember if we talked about that or not. If it was after the second round of juice then that memory will be very vague.” BSJ would’ve been a different story. Before second juice, I could’ve remembered a lot more. ASJ the timeline was fuzzier.

“Yeah, we need more sober conversations.” Tate walked by and kissed my shoulder. “Juice, water, or coffee?”

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