Geoff and Marie’s Good Life: Part 15

The Live Sex Show

Geoffrey performs in public.

Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

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We
were sitting cuddling together on the sofa when Colin arrived, with Mia
in tow. Angie had offered to cook that afternoon and we were trying to
decide what we fancied. I suggested a chilli con carne with rice. Angie
decided otherwise.

"Kids," she called. They wandered in from the kitchen with glasses of milk and a chocolate biscuit each.

"If
I go shopping for ingredients, would you two help me cook tea tonight?"
The two teens shared a look and agreed. "Right," she announced,
standing up. "Go and sort out your homework with grandad; I'll go
shopping."

I
stood and went to get my wallet. She glared at me. "Go on. Do it," she
challenged me. "I bloody dare you to offer me money to get food for the
people I care about."

I
carefully closed the drawer and apologized for my insensitivity. "I
just don't want you to think that we take you for granted," I explained.

Her
expression softened. "And if I ever feel that way, I'll say something,
but right now it's my turn to give. Please allow me that."

I went and pulled her into a hug. "Sorry Angie. You know I wouldn't deliberately upset you. Am I forgiven?"

She returned my hug. "You were never in trouble. I was just reminding you that we're family now and I want to contribute too."

She
gave me another squeeze, a brief kiss and she left. I turned to the
kids, who had watched our exchange, fascinated. "What?" I asked.

Colin
shook his head. "Not sure about this whole adult relationship stuff,"
he griped. "They are all weird." Mia smiled at his comment, but didn't
argue. To be fair, the lad had a point.

"Okay." I clapped my hands. "Homework?"

It
turned out that they were studying climate change. Their teacher had
given the class three questions and they were free to choose which one
to answer. I suggested that Colin and Mia avoided answering the same
question so they weren't accused of copying, and sent them off to the
study.

Angie
was back and in the kitchen laying out her ingredients when the teens
finally reappeared. Colin, ever the gentleman, had allowed Mia to use
our laptop for her slides, while he had used my tablet. That was fine;
it wasn't as though we regularly used our devices to cruise porn sites.
Besides, I had made sure that Marie knew to use private tabs if she was
viewing adult content. The kids were old enough to start learning about
relationships. Images of explicit sex were not on their agenda for some
years to come.

I
sent them in to the kitchen and, with their permission, went to check
over their homework. I was reassured. If I had seen job applications
written that thoughtfully, they both definitely would have qualified for
an interview.

I
joined the others in the kitchen, only to find that I was redundant.
Colin was slicing an onion, Mia was chopping mushrooms and Angie was
trimming what looked like a pork fillet. She looked up and shook he
head, smiling. "The sous chefs are doing fine," she explained. "I want
them to feel confident that they can work without being micro-managed."

I
watched Colin. He was doing well. Slow, perhaps, but careful. Mia was
taking equal care to have all the slices of mushroom a similar
thickness.

"Shall I set the table then?" I suggested. The consensus was that yes, I could perhaps make myself useful that way.

"Set for a starter, main and dessert, please," Angie advised me. "We have a full menu planned."

"Wine?"

"A
nice white, maybe an oaked chardonnay," suggested Colin. "I checked on
my phone," he explained, in response to my surprised expression.

I
grunted and went to set about my assigned tasks, and that was how Marie
found me when she returned from work. "That's my job when you're the
cook," she observed.

"I have been supplanted by our wicked betrothed and her evil teen minions," I sulked.

"That's nice, dear," she said, absently, as she bustled about putting her coat away.

We
went into the kitchen together once I had finished. My wife walked up
behind Angie and gave her a big hug. "Geoffrey is feeling emasculated,"
she told her friend. The minions looked on in amusement.

Angie gave a derisive snort. "It's my turn to cook with the kids because I'm here today. Geoff can take his turn any day."

"There
you go, Geoff," my wife reassured me. "We still enjoy your cooking,
it's just that Angie gets less opportunity." Seeing as how I was only
pretending to be upset, it was easy to pretend that all was forgiven. I
accepted the explanation with a kiss for both of my girls and went off
in search of a bottle of wine.

I
sat and red, while Marie and Angie caught up in the kitchen. Marie
joined me ten minutes later. "Angie's bursting to tell me about her day,
but all she dare say in front of the kids is that you and she had a
pleasant afternoon."

I
glanced at the door. "I don't think we should have this conversation
here and now. If one of the youngsters walks in, the guilty silence will
just be uncomfortable for everyone. So how was your day?"

And
so we sat and I listened to her accounts of generous donors, sweet
natured old ladies and the occasional twat who tried to bargain down the
price on the ticket. For Fuck's sake! It's a charity shop. And Marie
was clear; the worst offenders were most obviously not short of change.
They were just tight bastards. Not that my beloved ever capitulated. She
would just smile sweetly and remind them where they were, pointing out
that they were welcome to try the same approach in John Lewis with her
full support.

We
made the occasional foray to the kitchen but our offers of help were
politely, but firmly, rebuffed. To be fair, the atmosphere was relaxed. I
asked about the menu and, after looking to the chef for approval, Mia
ran through it. "We are starting with cubes of baked breaded brie on a
bed of salad with a lingonberry relish. Then there is pork stroganoff
with green vegetables and rice. For dessert we are having individual
warm pear frangipane tartlets with chocolate sauce and vanilla ice
cream." She paused. "Oh, yes," she continued. "If anyone is still hungry
there's a selection of cheeses as well as olives, and some nice bread
to go with dipping oils and vinegars."

I
did a quick calculation in my head. "At today’s prices, I reckon that
meal would come in at about £50 plus per head just in a country pub."
Mia just grinned at me. I carried on. "Can I afford to get used to
eating like this?"

I
looked around the kitchen brigade and saw three unreasonably happy
cooks. Angie was obviously less demanding of the children and seemed
thrilled to be able to pass on her knowledge. Colin just loved cooking
and Mia seemed to be determined to learn so that she could help her mum.

I turned to Angie. "This all smells wonderful. Wendy and Linda should both be here well before six. Is that okay, Chef?"

Angie looked at her team. "Starters on the pass for six o'clock."

"Yes Chef!" They shouted in unison. We shook our heads and left them to it.

Wendy
arrived first. Mia had sent her a text to say that they were eating at
our place again. Wendy tried to apologize for intruding but we,
particularly Marie, were having none of it. "We love having Mia with us.
I know she's very mature but, as Colin is here anyway, it makes no
sense for her to be at home, alone," my wife told her. "In addition,
Angie is doing a cookery masterclass and she is way more tolerant of the
kids than she is with me, so it's easier just to let them get on with
it."

Mia
must have heard her mum's voice because she left the kitchen, briefly,
to give her mum a hug before apologizing. "Sorry mum, but I need to turn
the tarts so they brown evenly." And, with that, she dashed back to the
kitchen. We led a bemused Wendy to the living room, sat her down and
asked about her day. Her eyes filled as she explained just how grateful
she was not to come home to have to start cooking a meal, even just for
one night. She had a decent job in the Civil Service so money wasn't too
much of a problem. She just struggled finding time to be the wage
earner, housekeeper and mum. She felt guilty too that Mia seemed to feel
obliged to sacrifice her spare time to help around the house rather
than being a teenager.

Marie
glanced at me. We're not telepathic but I was certain we were thinking
the same thing. Wendy was so caught up in being the