Page 27 of His Vengeful Tradwife

It wasn't remotely true. Because I knew if that wasTallulahon the couch in front of me, her thighs spread wide for me, Iwould have pole-fucking-vaulted over to howl as I sunk my cock inside her.

"No," I snapped. "I just don't see anything on display at the moment that particularly interests me."

Amanda's face darkened with anger.

"Whatever," she spat. "If you don't want to fuck me I guess you can stay and watch me fuck myself."

"No," I said, turning on my heel and headed out the door. "I'm going home."

The whole way back I was debating the most dignified way of telling Tallulah I had made a mistake.

When I got there, the kids were finishing up the last 15 minutes of a movie in the other room and Tallulah was canning pickles on the kitchen table.

"I'll take them all outside after that's done," I said. "Emmylou can go in the swing while I play soccer."

"OK," my wife said as she lined the jars up neatly.

"I didn't have sex with Amanda," I added into the stillness.

Tallulah flicked a disinterested glance over me, then turned away.

"Too bad," she said. "But it happens to a lot of men in your age bracket, you know. Better luck next time, tiger."

With one furious swipe, I knocked all her jars off the table, shattering them on the floor around me in an ear-splitting crash.

"Will you fucking look at me?" I roared.

Then I was grabbing my wife and pressing her up against the counter, loving the feel of her soft curves under my hands.

"Don't give me thatshit, Tallulah. It was barely two weeks ago I was fucking you right here in the kitchen and I didn't hear you complaining about how old I am then."

I knew she couldn't possibly miss how turned-on I was, how my cock, so limp and flaccid where Amanda was concerned, was now rock-hard and throbbing, digging into her soft little belly.

Two goddamn weeks ago she wouldn't have been able to resist me. She never could. All I had to do was lift a finger or pull her onto my lap, and her lips would be on mine, her legs wrapped around my waist.

I wanted that back so badly

My eyes burned as they bore into hers, my breath ragged and harsh in my chest.

"Tallulah, I’m sorry”

Why had I ever thought I could live without my wife?

I was going to fuckingdiebeing apart from her like this, shut out from her smiles, her kisses, her warmth, her love. Not having her was like getting denied air and water. I was starving without her.

For a moment I thought I saw her heartbeat race in her elegant neck, a hitch of her breath as I pressed against her lush, opulent curves, the precum soaking my pants.

Her plump pink lips parted, and I felt my cock throbbing in my pants, fucking aching to beinsideher.

I leaned forward eagerly.

Was she going to say she loved me?

That she forgave me?

"Hold on," she said, reaching her hand up under her thick fall of auburn hair to click on a little earbud I hadn't noticed. "My ex is making noise so I can't hear you."

Then she tossed her hair so that it fell all over my arm, sending delicious waves of scent searing through me, that mouth-watering mix of savory cooking, a touch of sugar, dandelions from the yard, and that magnetic pull that made her such a sensual unforgettable woman.

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