Page 32 of A One Woman Job

“Night,” I call back, putting out my cigar when Meg waves goodbye to her family at the gate, then changes course to join me where I now sit in a deck chair by the pool.

Good God.

I can’t even watch her approach, because the combination of hunger and happiness is too much. Seeing her outlined in the sunset like that, skin glowing, her face jubilant from a nice night with her family. Someone might as well drag a rake through my chest. My breathing is compromised, pulse going crazy in myneck, wrists, everywhere. What my wife does to me isn’t normal. It’s outrageous.I live for this burn. I live for her.

“Hi there,” she purrs, letting her hair down when she reaches me, shaking out the dark locks that reach all the way to her ass now. “Doing your nightly security check?”

I respond in a voice already thick with need. “Keep you safe,” I manage, her scent rearranging my senses. “I’m always going to keep you safe.”

“I know,” she murmurs, stepping in front of me and sliding all ten of her fingers into my hair, drawing tiny circles with her fingernails on my scalp.

I drop the cigar, wrapping both hands around the backs of her knees and dragging her as close as possible, my groan loud in the backyard when my face finds the small valley between her plump, little tits and I confirm with two swipes of my tongue that she’s not wearing a bra. “Sit on my lap, baby,” I rasp, trailing my tongue up to her ear and kissing the skin there, razing my teeth against it and feeling her shiver. “Sit on the cock you make hard just by breathing. Play on it until I’m done playing.”

“You’re always done playing,” she says, settling into a straddle, lowering herself slowly, biting her lip when my erection meets the wet, swollen crotch of her panties.

“Are you saying I don’t give you enough foreplay?” I ask.

“I’m definitely not saying that.”

“If you want me to eat some pussy, just ask.” I drag my tongue along my bottom lip. “I always leave room for dessert.”

“No…” She bites her own lip teasingly, her hips pressing down, applying light pressure to my dick, flicking up and back gently. Too gently.Fuck. “You always leavetheroom for dessert. You’re never there when the meal ends. Why?”

“I can only be in the same room with you for so long before the ache is out of control, Meg. You know that. I smell you, I see you, I need to be buried in you.” With a growl, I reach beneathher dress and take tight hold of her butt cheeks, giving one a hard smack. “Hump my fucking cock.Hump it.”

This angel grips my shoulders, looks me in the eye and starts to work her hips.

My head immediately drops back on a moan.

As incredibly as she moved as an inexperienced eighteen-year-old, at twenty-three, she has talent beyond my wildest dreams. She can make me come in my pants with the right pattern—and she has, many, many times. As recently as yesterday, right there in my office chair. She brought me an afternoon coffee in a mini skirt and heels and…

If I keep thinking about it, there’s going to be a replay.

My breathing is erratic now and I want nothing more than to let her work, work, work my dick until I blow, but I’ve been fantasizing all night about licking her clit, too, and I need the taste of hernow.With a groan of pure, male pain, I flip our positions, putting Meg on her back and I don’t waste a second shoving up the hem of her sundress, cursing raggedly over the sodden state of her panties.

“Message received,” I say, snatching off her underwear, pressing her knees open and perusing what’s mine, giving every inch of her naked sex my attention before lowering my mouth and kissing it reverently. “You ached during dinner, too.”

“I ache for you constantly,” she whispers, another round of moisture coating her flesh right before my eyes. “Maybe I’m just better at hiding it.”

“Only until I lift up your dress, little girl.” I undulate my tongue on top of her clit and her hands fly out, gripping my hair and the edge of the cushioned chair. I stay in that spot for a full two minutes, watching the arousal transform her body, making it rosy, puckering her nipples, glazing her hazel eyes. She loves having her clit seen to, but she won’t come until I put at least two fingers in her cunt. Something tells me she wants my cock rightaway, tonight, though. Something about the way she’s looking at me. “What is it, Meg?”

When she doesn’t answer right away, I grow alarmed, rising up over her, pinning her down and pressing our foreheads together.

“Am I not making you happy?”

“W-what?” It calms me slightly when she looks supremely baffled by the question. “You make me happier than I ever knew was possible. Not only that…you’ve…you’ve…” A little sob escapes her lips. “You’ve changed everything for the better. You’ve spoiled me, made me the most loved and cherished girl on this earth. And what you’ve done for my family…” I can barely withstand the pressure in my chest when she looks at me like this, like she loves me beyond human comprehension, the way I love her, but I sense she is in the middle of something important, so I focus on her beautiful eyes. “When I saw you standing here tonight, smoking your cigar and looking at the sunset, I thought…I thought…”

“You thought what, Meg?”

“I want to give you sons,” she finishes in a hurry. “You have so much good to teach a son. Or a daughter. I don’t want to deprive the world of that.”

I stare at her for a long moment, reeling. We’ve never spoken of having children.

We’ve had a business to establish and her siblings to raise, although they are getting older. More self-sufficient.

When I think of my wife with my child in her stomach, I have to reach down and unzip my pants, because the sudden pressure in my cock is overwhelming. “Oh God. Oh fuck.” I grit my teeth, the imminent eruption making me shudder. “Get you…pregnant?”

She nods shyly and drops her thighs open wider.

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