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The Reconnect


It’s Christmas Eve, and everyone is coming over to have brunch and then kick it for the day. Yadira and Shanell decided that we would all make ugly sweaters and wear them tomorrow for Christmas. Yadira bought crew neck sweaters in the typical holiday colors -- red, green, black, and white -- for everyone. Nell was in charge of getting the decorations for all the shirts.

I wasn’t in the mood for any of that this year, though. I really wanted some alone time with my wife. I missed her. Yea, we sleep next to each other at night, but with Truth in the middle; and that was basically my fault, it’s not the same.

Yadira was adamant about her not co-sleeping, but because I had missed this phase with Nova and Yahari, I let her sleep in our bed the whole first year of her life. Not being able to roll over and slide inside Sweetness in the morning like I used to when she was pregnant didn’t start affecting me until recently.

I was hoping now that we had gotten Truth on a schedule and sleeping in her room, that I would be able to enjoy my wife like I once had. But by night’s end, we’re both way too tired for anything other than twelve strokes, or “lazy booty,” as Yadira calls it.

I didn’t want any more lazy booty from my wife. Yesterday morning, I could sense the frustration and anger coming from her when Truth woke up. I knew she needed a release, hell I did too. It had been weeks since the last time I felt her warmth.

I was really tempted to pull her to the side, take her upstairs or outside, and wear her ass out. I needed to fuck and make love to my woman like I needed my next breath.

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, nor did I notice that everyone had moved from the dining room and into the family room.

“Tahir Henry Attmore, you don’t hear me talking to you?” Yadira snapped.

“I’m sorry, bae. I didn’t. What’s up?” I asked, wiping my hand down my face and looking at her.

“Forget it,” she said before walking out of the dining room.

I grunted, chuckled, and then knocked on the table. A tell-tale sign that I was pissed off. I stood from my seat and followed behind my wife, snatching her up before she could make it to the family room.

“We’ll be right back, family.”

I picked Yadira up and threw her bratty ass over my shoulder and took the steps two at a time upstairs. My size thirteen-feet helped with making this a quick trip. Once we were in our bathroom, I closed and locked the door, sat her on the counter, and began pulling her clothes off.

After literally pulling her clothes off, I fumbled around on the counter for the remote to the stereo I had installed just for this purpose. When “All I Want for Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey began playing, I smiled at her.

“Do you remember this song?”

“I do. It was playing when I sat next to you in Lake Vera eight years ago.”

“This song still applies now.”

“You got me, Cas.”

“Nah, we’ve been existing, and I want more than that, Sweetness,” I said, resting my forehead against hers. “We both deserve more than that. I know having three kids and working are taking up our everyday lives, but we have to start making time for each other. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Cas. I miss you so damn much. I’m sorry I was a brat downstairs. You didn’t deserve that. I’m just…”

“Horny,” I cut her off. “You’re not the only one, baby. But that’s not how we handle each other, and you know that.”

“I do, Cas. Again I’m sorry, baby. You forgive me?” she asked while stroking me through my jeans.

“Show me why I should.”

Yadira bit her bottom lip and slid her naked ass off the counter and onto her knees on the floor in front of me. She quickly undid my belt, unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, and then I pushed my jeans and boxer briefs down my legs. Once I was free from the confines of my clothes, Yadira took my dick into her hand and started jacking me slowly.

It had been at least two months since the last time she gave me some top, and I was beyond ready for her to be my personal Supahead. Before she could get my dick in her mouth, there was a knock on our bathroom door.

“I know you fuckin’ lyin’,” I spat.

“Both of y’all bring y’all nasty asses out of there. Come downstairs and finish family night,” my mother said.

And just like that, my dick was flaccid as fuck, and I wanted to Spartan kick my own mama for fucking up what I knew was about to some of the best sex I’ve had lately.

“I know y’all hear me,” my mama said while knocking on the door again.

Yadira stood and picked up her clothes from the floor and began getting dressed. I stuffed my now soft dick back into my boxer briefs, pulled up my jeans, and then buckled my belt.

When we were put back together, I opened the door, and my mama was still standing there with her arms folded across her chest and her lips pursed in a scowl.

“Bring y’all’s asses on. Got a house full of people and think you can sneak off and put ya’ hands in the cookie jar.”


Yadira snickered.

“Don’t ma me, boy. Now come on so we can do what we came to do, and everybody can go home and then maybe you can dip in the cookie jar later.”

“Ma, come on.”

I was thoroughly disgusted with my Mama referring to me dipping in the cookie jar. When I said it to Yadira, it was fine, but it seemed so damn dirty when Ma said it. I grimaced but followed Ma and Yadira downstairs and into the family room.

I could see my Dad, Tee, and Dennis fighting to hold in their laughter. I was going to remember this the next time he and Nell tried to sneak off. We decorated these damn sweaters and spent time together as a family for the rest of the night.