Page 11 of Love on the Rocks

“That’s it, baby. Come on my cock. Squeeze it just like I like and I’ll reward you with my cum.”

Her entire body starts to tremble. “No more. I can’t take anymore. It’s too much.”

“You can, and you will. You can come one more time for me,” I demand as I let myself seek my relief. She always orgasms when I come inside of her. It’s something we discovered when we stopped using condoms.

Just thinking about it sends me over the edge. I bury myself deep inside of her and hold her tight to me as my cock swells and jerks inside of her as I unload hot jets of my seed inside of her. As I predicted she tightens around me one more time and releases one more long, low groan as she orgasms again.

Once we’re both spent, I collapse on top of her, without enough energy to even pull myself free of her body. We remain like this for a few minutes until our breathing evens out, and rational thought returns.

I slip my semi-hard cock free from her body and tuck myself away. I’m a mess but in much better shape than my wife. The only clothes she has would only bring us right back here. For the second time tonight, I pull my shirt over my head and slip it over hers. Then I lift her into my arms. “Let’s go home and get you cleaned up.”

Bess hums in agreement, lays her head against my chest, and closes her eyes.

8

Bess

My body isboth sated and sore. But it’s a delicious kind of pain. The kind that reminds you that your body has been well used, or that you used it well. Although in my case the former is true. My eyes crack open just as Donovan pulls his car into the garage.

“I was wondering when you were going to wake up,” he says. He’s looking at me with a mixture of awe and adoration. It’s quite a heady thing, and I could get addicted to it.

“You wore me out,” I answer with a yawn.

“And I look forward to doing it again.”

I’m in that delirious state of exhaustion where I don’t run my thoughts all the way through my brain before they exit through my mouth. “Mmm, count me in. Next time I want to be your captive. You can be like a reclusive mountain man or something.”

Donovan grabs my chin and turns my face to look at him. I blink my eyes open several times, but they feel like sandpaper scraping over my tender irises. “Do you mean that?”

I cover my mouth with the back of my hand while I yawn. “Mean what?”

He lets go of my face. “Never mind. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Donovan carries me into the house. I drift in and out of sleep as he runs a bath and joins me in our large soaking tub. It feels good to have my skin washed clean of our combined sweat and the stickiness of his cum.

“That’s right, sweetheart, I’ve got you. Sleep now,” he murmurs as he lifts me from the tub. Then he wraps a fluffy towel around me and dries me off before tucking me into bed. I fall deeply asleep as he wraps his arms around me and holds me tight against his chest.

It feels like only minutes have passed the next time my eyes open, but there’s light streaming in through the slats in my blinds, and the scent of vanilla and sugar comes from the kitchen. I pull back the covers and find myself completely nude.

I sigh. “Of course, he would put me to bed naked.” I prefer to sleep in at least a T-shirt and underwear. I’ve never been able to sleep completely nude, at least not without being completely exhausted.

Opening one of his dresser drawers I pull out one of his oldest t-shirts. One he’s worn so many times it’s nearly threadbare in spots and seems to always have the smell of his aftershave in the fibers no matter how many times I wash it. He’s so much taller than me his shirt hangs to my knees. I grab a pair of boy shorts from my drawer and pull them on under his shirt.

In the kitchen I find my boys hanging around the island. Donovan stands in front of the stove with a spatula flipping pancakes on the griddle. He’s got a well-worn pair of pale bluedenim jeans on that hang low on his narrow hips displaying that delicious Adonis belt that makes me salivate.

He’s shirtless, and I would lecture him about cooking safety, but I’m enjoying the view too much. He was the most stunning man I’d ever seen in real life ten years ago, and he seems to get better every year. Over the years, he’s bulked up even more, and now every time he takes his shirt off I have the urge to pet him. Or maybe rub myself against him as if I were a cat.

“Hi, Mommy! Daddy is making us pancakes. Isn’t that great?” Jack asks excitedly.

“Very great, sweetheart. How was your night with Aunt Wren and Uncle Griffin? Did you have fun playing with the twins?” I ask him.

Jack enthusiastically describes the hours of video games, board games, and playing outside he did with Clark and Logan. It’s very convenient how close in age all of our kids are. The twins are only a year older than Jack, and since he’s an only child he’s very mature for his age. The three of them are thick as thieves and just as mischievous.

“Did you have a good Valentine’s Day? Clark said it’s a kissing holiday and that his dad usually gives his mom a baby. Did you give mom a baby?” Jack asks Donovan.

Unfortunately, Donovan had just taken a sip of his coffee and begins choking on it. Donovan looks at me like I will somehow know what to say to our son.

I bite my lip to hold back the hysterical laugh working its way up my chest. “No, your dad didn’t give me a baby.”

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