Page 2 of Make Me Whole

“What about it?” I asked innocently, taking a step closer so that my hand lightly grazed the hardened bulge in his pants.

“It was TBD. I think we should D it.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “We have some chocolate sauce and caramel in the kitchen. How about some of that?”

“Like in a spoon?” he asked, voice as slick with desire as I was.

Biting my lips, I pressed my palm harder against his denim covered cock and shook my head. “Nope.”

He hissed a sharp breath and leaned forward to kiss me. The good Lord knew how I wanted him to. I wanted him to kiss all parts of me, but Ella called him from the kids’ room, breaking our moment.

“See you in a bit,” I whispered, breathless and still cupping his cock, then walked away, sashaying my hips like Shakira.

In the master bathroom, I took off my clothes, tied my hair up, and got under the steamy water. My muscles relaxed and my mind wandered. First to how safe, beautiful, and desired Max made me feel, then to my plans for the evening.

Despite having thought about this all day and being confident about my plan, I still had butterflies in my stomach. Things between us had changed a lot in the past two days, but it was still hard to tell my secret lover and my dad’s best friend that, despite our agreement to keep things casual and strings-free, I had gotten pregnant with his baby and kept it a secret for nearly a month.

Fear gripped my insides at the uncertainty of how he’d react. We had talked about many things, but never babies. He adored Ella and was an exceptional dad to his son, but a new baby was an enormous commitment. One I wasn't sure he wanted at fifty years old.

“Trust the promises he made these past few days and stick to the plan, Skylar. It’ll all work out,” I told myself, trying to shake my nerves.

With all my heart, I hoped that was true.

Worries pushed to the back of my mind as I closed my eyes and tilted my head back and enjoyed the water as it fell down my naked body. In the darkness behind my eyelids, it was easy to imagine that the tickling in my nipples was Max’s tongue and that the pressure of water running down my abdomen were his hands.

My heart raced as I imagined sliding my own hands down Max’s taut chest, down his washboard abs and down to his thick cock. I imagined dropping to my knees in front of him and touching my lips to his tip, tongue lapping a bead of precum just before taking him into my mouth, all the way to the back of my throat. The fantasy was so strong and all-consuming that I could almost feel the swollen length press down my tongue.

I dropped the soap and brought my hands to my body, wishing more than anything they were his. I imitated the way he tweaked my nipples, elongating and pinching them just hard enough to make me gasp, while my other hand skimmed down my narrow waist, flaring over my rounded hips until it reached the top of my thigh.

As I circled around to my drenched middle, fantasy-me had her mouth full of cock, and I’d never been more jealous. My juices ran down my legs, coating my fingers as I brought them to my clit.

I circled the nub a few times, massaging it in a way that when combined with the thought of feeling Max’s dick fill my mouth and throat, was so powerful and erotic that I saw stars. I continued to pleasure myself as I imagined his hand on my hair, guiding my head up and down his length, my lips stretching to accommodate his girth while my cheeks milked him for all I wanted.

The fantasy was so vivid I could hear him moan my name as I sucked in breaths as hard as I wanted to suck him. My fingers moved faster and harder against my clit to where my legs felt like giving up. My chest heaved with labored breaths, and my heart pounded in the same rhythm as my pussy.

Pleasure oozed out of me in waves of desire, but as good as it felt, it wasn’t nearly good enough. In the past, my fantasies had always been better than the real thing, but after knowing Max and what a real man could do to a girl like me, they could never satisfy me the way he did. There was magic in him, in his touch, in his kiss, in his cock, and in all the naughty parts I wanted for myself.

As aroused as I was, I refused to give in to a subpar orgasm. I wanted him, and nothing else. I wanted to orgasm for my baby daddy, for my secret lover, for my haven, for this man who had become my world. I wanted Max so badly it hurt and was determined that when I finally gave in to my pleasure, it would be on his mouth or mounted on his cock. Hopefully, I’d have experienced both and more before I was ready for sleep.

Frustration instantly hit me as I released my nipple and pulled my hand from my clit. However, I promised myself to make our night the best, wildest, sexiest night of Max’s life. Considering the nights we’d been having, that would be a feat. Then, I would try to make it one of the most meaningful as well.

With a hopeful heart and a naughty mind, I dried myself and went to the bedroom. I quickly stashed the onesie I bought for the big reveal in one of the bedside tables and then donned the new lingerie I'd bought especially for tonight.

The black lace pushed my ample tits up to the heavens, accentuated my full curves and tiny waist, and made my pale skin look pearlescent. I finished the look with thigh-high stockings, black pumps that were so high I was mildly afraid I’d tip over, and the flimsiest see-through robe the store carried. The thing wasn’t good for covering anything, but the belt gave me all sorts of fun ideas.

When I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt sexy, empowered, and beautiful enough to deserve this man and the life I wanted to build with him. I took a deep breath and brought my hands to my lower belly just as a soft knock came from the bedroom door.

I looked over my shoulder, heart pounding at a million miles per hour. His voice echoed from the opening door. “Ready for dessert, Babe?”

A salacious smile spread across my lips, and I slowly turned around as he entered the room. “You have no idea how ready I am.”

Max’s jaw dropped as he took me in. His expression of awe and lust made me fearful for the wellbeing of the caramel and chocolate sauces in his hands.

“Holy mother of sexy shit. You’re gonna give me a heart attack, woman.”

I laughed as he pushed the door closed and turned the lock. Shaking my head, I slowly walked toward him.

“You’re old, but not that old,” I teased.

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