Page 24 of Still Made For You

“Oh, yes, daddy!” Wisdom held me by the waist as he fucked me senseless. My stomach tightened and I embraced the feelings washing over me. Since I’ve been pregnant, I felt insatiable at times. The moment I woke up in the morning, I craved him in the worst way.

“Am I too deep, love or do you want me to go deeper?” My juices dripped down my inner thigh in response to him hitting the spot that drove me crazy.

“Go deeper!” I moaned, clearly on the brink of insanity. I’d promise him the world as long as he kept fucking me.

“Let me in then, mamas. Arch that fuckin’ back the way I like it.” He smacked my ass, then spread both cheeks apart. I bit down on the pillow in front of me to mask my screams.

“Tell me how this dick feels, pretty. You want me to pull out some or are you going to take this dick for me?” My juices dripped down my thighs to the point I almost thought my water may have broken.

“Ugh! Ima take it, baby. I promise!” My stomach muscles tightened as I rained all over him.

“That’s my girl, I want it all.” I panted, enjoying the pleasure my husband delivered to my core. This man has the type of dick that will have you hiding in bushes, and I swear if he ever gave it away, I’d cut the shit off.

We made love for a few more moments before we were cumming together. My energy level hasn’t been the greatest since I’ve been pregnant and sex with him made it even worse. Wise carried me to the bathroom then sat me on the counter while he ran the water for our shower.

My husband still worked out faithfully and it showed in the definition of his muscles. My mouth watered making me want to lick him like an ice cream cone.

“Close your mouth. I’m not even about to play with you. I still have a few stops I need to make and if you keep staring at me, we’ll both be passed out in the bed.” I personally thought it sounded like the perfect plan.

“I love you, Pretty. Do you know that?” Wisdom stood in front of me with his hands placed on both sides of me.

“Yes, you make sure to tell me every single day.” It took a while to get used to his affectionate ways, but now I couldn’t get enough. If he went too long without telling me he loved me throughout the day, it made me sad. I’m addicted to his love in the worst way. I craved his love and attention like an addict.

“And I’ll continue to do so for the rest of our lives. You’re the greatest gift God’s ever given to me outside of our children. It’s my job to remind you how much of a blessing you truly are. Don’t you ever forget that,” he insisted, kissing my forehead while I cried silently. The way he gave love overwhelmed me at times because it’s something I’m not used to.

“Don’t cry, baby. You know I don’t like seeing you upset.” He hooked my chin with his index finger, placing a kiss on my lips. The moment Wise’s soft lips pressed against mine, I relaxed in his hold.

“Your babies have made me an even bigger crybaby than I already was. I love you so much, Wisdom. I’m grateful to be going on this journey with you. There’s no one else I’d want to share these moments with. Thank you for loving me the way you do. Even when I give you a hard time, you never give up on me.”

“And I won’t. You and these little ones in here own my heart. You’re mine forever; I’ll protect what we have with my life.” My heart leaped as I stared into my husband’s eyes. He found a way to make me love him more and more each day.

After he helped me wash up in the shower, he redressed the bed for me to sleep. Wise has always been incredibly helpful, but now that I’m pregnant, I’ll admit that I have milked it for all it was worth.

At this point, I didn’t even put on my own shoes anymore. My plan was to take a nap for a few hours to rest my body, but my ringing phone had other plans. Looking at the clock on my phone, I realized I’d only been asleep for about 45 minutes. That in itself gave me a straight attitude because I hated my sleep being interrupted.

“Hello,” I answer the phone groggily.

“Hey, baby girl, are you at home?” a shocked expression flashed across my face when I realized who was the other than the line. My father had gotten a little bit better when it came to communication, however, he still didn’t call as often as I would’ve liked him to. Honestly, he didn’t bother me too much because I was used to it by now. Something would never change.

“Yes, I’m here. Why, what’s up?” I asked, reaching over to the nightstand to turn on my lamp.

“I’m outside, Can you open the door for me?” I glanced around the room, skeptically as if he could see me.

“You mean you’re outside of my house?” Very rarely did my father make pop-ups, especially because we live so much further out than he did. He visited the house a few times since he moved, but not very often.

“Yes, I tried to call you earlier, but you didn’t answer, so I thought I’d show up. I wanted to talk to you about something.” My nerves started getting the best of me. Whatever he wanted to talk about might be something serious, which scared me even more. I prayed to God he wasn’t about to tell me he was dying or something like that. The last thing I needed right now was added stress or bad news.

“I’m on my way down,” I informed him, before he could reply. Swinging my legs over the bed, I slid my feet into my house slippers. I said a silent prayer that whatever he had to tell me wasn’t too bad.

By the time I made it towards the door, I felt winded. These babies were wreaking havoc on my body already, and we were barely halfway through this pregnancy. The minute I pulled back the door, I examined him from head to toe. He appeared to be in good health from the outside, so I can only assume that this was either an emotional or internal issue.

“Hey, daddy,” I greeted him with a hug, then stepped back to allow him to enter. He didn’t break up alcohol, which was also another good sign. Lately, it seemed that he was either drunk or high whenever we did cross paths. My mom moving out had really taken a toll on him, but I didn’t feel bad at all. He brought this on himself, and he had no one else to blame.

“Hey, baby girl. I’m sorry for waking you up but I really need to talk to you.” I followed him into the living room before taking a seat on the sectional. My feet were slightly swollen from the walking. I had done it earlier today, so I propped my feet up on the couch.

“What’s going on? It sounded like an emergency. Are you okay?” I fired off a series of questions.

“I don’t know. This whole thing with your mom has really got me stressed out. Every time I try to sit down and talk with her, she makes an excuse to avoid me. I thought if I let her leave for a few days or even a week, she would have a chance to calm down, but now she’s acting like she’s never coming back home,” he stressed, dragging his hand down his chin. A part of me wanted to laugh, but I knew this wasn’t the time for that.

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