Playing Married House Game II

"I think we need to do some shopping first," she said.

"Supermarket's just down the road, right?" Kael asked.

"Yeah," Kelly said, "Let's get moving."

Kael led the way downstairs, grabbing his jacket from the hook by the door. Kelly slipped on a light coat, buttoning it over her blouse, and they stepped outside.

Kael unlocked the car, and slid into the driver's seat, Kelly climbed in beside him, buckling her seatbelt, "Turn left at the end of the street," she said, pointing ahead. He followed her directions.

The supermarket loomed up fast, a big, boxy building with bright signs, parking lot half-full of cars.

He grabbed a trolley from the row by the entrance, as he pushed it inside. Kelly walked ahead. They spent an hour wandering, her tossing stuff into the cart, him steering it behind her.

She grabbed bread, a loaf with a crusty top, dropping it in with a soft thud. Then milk carton sloshing as she set it down, eggs in a cardboard tray, a pack of chicken thighs, some potatoes in a mesh bag. "Gonna cook tonight," she said, holding up a jar of herbs, shaking it so the flakes rattled inside. Kael nodded, adding a block of cheese and a stick of butter, his hands brushing hers when they reached for the same shelf.

She paused by the snacks, picking up a bag of chips, salt and vinegar, crinkling plastic and tossed it in. "For later," she said, grinning. They moved to the checkout, the line short, just an old guy with a basket ahead of them. Kelly unloaded the trolley onto the belt, beep after beep as the cashier scanned and Kael swiped his card, the machine chirping as it cleared.

She packed the bags, hands quick, stuffing bread and eggs into one, chicken and potatoes into another. He grabbed the heavier ones, hauling them out to the car, popping the trunk and loading them in, the bags rustling against each other.

Back at the house, Kael carried the bags inside, his arms full, the handles digging into his palms. Kelly followed, kicking the door shut behind her, and they dumped everything on the kitchen counter.

She started unpacking, bread into a wooden box by the stove, milk and eggs into the fridge, its hum loud as she opened the door. Potatoes went into a bin under the sink, chicken into the freezer, the cold air puffing out as she shoved it in. Kael leaned against the counter, watching her move, her skirt swishing around her knees, her blouse pulling tight across her shoulders.

She pulled out the chicken again, setting it on the counter with the herbs and some garlic from a basket.

"Dinner," she said, grabbing a knife from a drawer, the blade glinting under the kitchen lights. She started chopping garlic first, the sharp smell hitting the air, then potatoes, cubes piling up on a cutting board.

Kael stepped up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist, pressing his chest to her back. He buried his face in her hair, clean, fragrant from the shower, a mix of apple shampoo and her own warm scent. The herbs on the stove, rosemary, thyme, mingled with it, filling his nose as she stirred a pan, oil sizzling soft.

"This feels real," he said, his voice low against her ear, his hands resting flat on her stomach. "If I had to pick a moment where this whole 'married' thing clicks, it's right here."

Kelly smiled, turning her head just enough to catch his eye, her hands still on the knife. "I get it," she said, chopping a carrot now, the crunch loud. "But the best part's still coming."

Keal recall the John's memories, and although he had loving relationship with Sarah, they didn't spent this type of time together. Moreover, for Keal, it's first time, and he began to feel affection for Kelly. He looked at her as she was cooking.

The food cooked slow, chicken sizzling in the pan, potatoes boiling in a pot, steam rising thick. She plated it up when it was done, golden chicken, soft potatoes, a sprinkle of herbs on top and they carried it to the kitchen table, sitting across from each other on wooden chairs. Kael took a bite, the chicken hot and juicy, flavors popping on his tongue. "This is damn good," he said, his mouth full, fork hovering over his plate.

Kelly grinned, spearing a potato with her fork. "Wonder if bad cooking's why so many couples split," she said, chewing slow.

Kael snorted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "If it is, you're safe as hell, no one's leaving over this."

They finished eating, plates scraped clean, and Kael stood, stacking them in the sink. He turned on the tap, water rushing hot, and scrubbed the dishes, soap suds bubbling up, the sponge rough in his hand.

Kelly rinsed, her fingers brushing his as she took each plate, setting them in a rack to dry, water dripping onto a towel. She grabbed a kettle next, filling it from the sink, the splash loud, and set it to boil. Coffee grounds went into a pot, dark, earthy smell filling the air and she poured it out when it was ready, two mugs steaming on the counter. They carried them to the living room, settling on the sofa, the cushions sinking under them.

It was getting dark outside, the windows turning black, but Kelly didn't flip on the light. She leaned against him instead, her shoulder pressing his, her mug warm in her hands as she sipped, the coffee bitter and strong. Kael set his mug on the table, his arm sliding around her, pulling her closer, her hair brushing his cheek in the dim half-light.

"Housework's done, shopping's in, we've eaten, dishes are clean," Kelly said, her voice soft, "What else do we need before bed?"

Kael rubbed her arm, thinking it over, his fingers tracing her sleeve. "If we're playing real married life, I'd probably be fixing something leaky faucet, loose shelf. Or we'd be talking about redecorating, picking out new furniture, all that crap I do with Sarah."

She grinned, setting her mug down, turning to face him. "Nah, we can skip that shit," she said, her eyes bright. "Come on, let's go upstairs."

She stood, reaching out both hands, playful, and tugged him up, her fingers strong around his. Kael followed as she walked to the stairs, her skirt swaying, her ass moving under the fabric, tempting him with every step. She glanced back, smirking, making sure he was right behind her, and he was.

They stepped into her bedroom, their "married" space now and Kelly turned to him, hands on her hips. "Time to get ready for bed," she said. "How's that go?"

Kael leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "I'd watch you undress," he said, "then you'd put on your nightdress."

She smirked, a quick laugh slipping out, and he caught it, she didn't wear one, never had. "Then I'd change," he added, "And we'd climb into bed."

"Alright," Kelly said, stepping closer, facing him full-on. She reached down, unbuttoning her skirt, slow, one snap at a time, letting it drop to the floor, a soft pile around her feet. She laid it over a chair, then started on her blouse, fingers working the buttons from top to bottom, peeling it open. The fabric parted, showing her surprise. The white lacy knickers hugging her hips, a bustier lifting her breasts high, straps clipped to sheer stockings running up her legs.

"Fuck," Kael said, "Any guy'd feel damn lucky seeing this before bed."

Kelly grinned, bending one leg to unclip her stockings, snap, snap, sliding them off slow, as she pulled them free, adding them to the chair.

"Help me with the hooks," she said, turning her back to him, her ass round under the knickers. Kael stepped up, his fingers brushing her skin, unhooking the bustier one by one, metal clips popping loose, fabric slackening 'til it fell away. She shrugged it off, and he couldn't stop himself, his hands slid around her waist, up to her breasts, cupping them, feeling their weight, her nipples hard against his palms.

"Hey, that's cheating," she said, laughing, twisting in his grip. "We're supposed to change, then bed, then…"

"You're right," Kael said, pulling his hands back slow, reluctant, his cock stirring in his jeans. "Couldn't help it."

She turned to face him, naked now except for the knickers, her breasts bare, nipples stiff. She watched his face, her eyes glinting, and hooked her thumbs into the lace, sliding the knickers down her legs, stepping out, leaving them on the floor. Her pussy was bare, a faint shadow of hair above it, and she stood there a second, letting him look.

Then she opened a dresser drawer, pulling out a long T-shirt, gray, faded, tugging it over her head. It fell past her hips, covering her, a makeshift nightdress.

"Your turn," she said, crossing her arms, leaning against the bed. Kael stripped fast, shirt off, jeans down, but let the boxers kicked aside laying them over the chair with her stuff. His cock hung half-hard, swaying as he moved.

"What're you wearing?" Kelly asked, tilting her head, curious.

Kael had brought his T-shirt and shorts in the room before going out for shopping. After putting them he said, "All set."

Kelly nodded, climbing into bed, picking the right side, facing away from him. The mattress dipped under her, sheets rustling as she settled. Kael slid in behind her, close, pulling blanket over them. He wrapped his arms around her, his chest pressing her back, his hands resting on her stomach through the T-shirt, holding her tight, her hair tickling his chin.