Page 89 of Buckled in Barbwire

“Is this for me?” Her breathy tone strokes my dick.

“All yours,” I confirm as precum seeps from the tip. “Every inch.”

She stretches her hand along my shaft, which doesn’t cover the length. “Has to be more than seven.”

“Nine last I checked.”

“Wow.” She sighs while ogling my cock like a foot-long with all the fixings.

My thumb roams the shape of her jaw. “Hungry?”

“I could eat.” She smacks her lips, preparing for a meal.

Desperate need tightens my balls and I wrestle the demand to fuck her before fulfilling her request. “Gotta hose you down first.”

Baby blues fling to my face. The naughty gleam sparks all sorts of filthy ideas. There’s time for that under the spray.

“Up you go.” After I’ve kicked away the shed layers, I heft Paisley in my arms and turn for the bathroom.

She giggles, kicking her feet. “My legs are good for more than spreading.”

“This is where you belong.” I drop my mouth onto hers, nibbling before licking at the inflicted bite.

“The least I can do is turn on the light.” She flips the switch, revealing that her interior design influence spread here as well.

More girly shit is stacked all over the countertop. Pink towels and mats to match. The list goes on. I ignore what looks like a crochet penis proudly displayed in the basket of washcloths.

“Totally worth it,” I mumble while setting her down in front of the half wall.

Paisley is busy gawking at the custom shower that occupies a third of the large space. The doorless walk-in is worthy of admiration but the digital controls are the bestfeature. I only have to tap once for my saved settings to kick on.

“Three rain spouts?” Her eyes bulge at the overhead faucets.

“You just need the one.” I stroke a fist over my cock.

She nods obediently while watching me. “Yes, that’s all I need.”

“Get in,” I command with a lift of my chin.

Her fingers fumble to unclasp her bra. I’m mesmerized as her breasts bounce from the cups. Her nipples tighten, begging for my mouth. A quick downward swoop latches me onto one. Paisley squeaks, fingers spearing into my hair. A slight tug at the roots trails down to my dick and I nudge the insistence for more against her. She bows into me on command. I clamp down on her skin before wrenching myself away. If I don’t stop, we’ll never get clean.

Steam quickly gathers and billows toward us. The center head pours a heavy stream, beckoning to my wife. It’s large enough to fit both of us underneath.

Paisley stumbles backward with me hot on her toes. Whatever she sees in my gaze has her reversing faster. I stalk her until the water hits her ass and she jolts. The fact that she’s skittish pumps me full of the desire to be in control.

“Am I still the boss?”

“Yes,” my wife states automatically.

I duck under the spray and yank her flush against me. Our wet bodies slide together like gentle waves. One of my hands cuffs her wrists behind her back. The other trails along her stomach before palming her breast. She bends back and thrusts into my touch. A pinch to her nipple has her gasping, clutching onto me like she might fall.

“You’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like.” It’s not a request.

“Should we use a safe word?” Paisley sounds entirely too excited about that possibility to refuse her.

“Just call meold man. I really hate that and I’ll stop on principle alone.” Then a more desirable outcome sprouts. “Or want to punish you.” I release her from the restraint to swat at her ass.

Her freed palms rub along my abs, gliding higher to rest against my neck. “My husband is very dominant.”

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