Page 70 of Dirty Husband

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I nod.

She stares back at me, waiting.

I like making her wait.

I let my eyes roam her body. I haven't seen her like this in years.

She's older now. A woman, not a girl. Still, as she'd say, a ruler. But curvier. Her breasts are bigger, her hips are rounder, her ass is fuller.

Her hair is shorter now. Usually, it's in a straight line at her shoulders. Right now, it's pinned back. That shiny clip is keeping her dark strands out of her face.

Perfect.

I take a step backward. Bring my eyes to hers.

She shudders. Her tongue slides over her lips. Her chest heaves with anticipation.

"What do you want, princess?" I ask.

Her nails scrape her hips.

"Do you want to come on my hand? Or maybe you'd like me to carry you to my bed, tie you to the frame, and fuck you until you beg me to stop?"

Her chest heaves with her inhale.

I sit on the beige couch. The fabric is too plastic, comfort sacrificed for water resistance, but it serves its purpose well.

I take an extra cushion. Place it on the ground in front of me.

Her eyes follow the green fabric.

"Kneel," I say.

"Kneel?"

"Don't make me ask twice, princess."

"Or?"

My head fills with thoughts of punishing her. Pulling her into my lap. Spanking her until her ass is red and her cunt is dripping.

I will.

But not yet. Not today.

"Or you won't get what you want," I say.

"And what do I want?"

I motion to the cushion. "On your knees."

She practically falls onto the cushion. Then sits back on her heels and looks up at me, waiting for her next order.

"This is what you want, isn't it, princess?"

Her eyes go wide.

"You want my cock."

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