Grinding against her, I lift the loose silky fabric to her waist. “If you promise to wear this dress, I think I could be convinced to go to mass every day.”
“Kill me now.” She unbuckles my belt, loosens my tie, and untucks my shirt.
When her fingers wrap around my thick cock, I groan and pull her deeper into the room. “Wish our bed was in here.”
“I’m sure we can make do.” Slipping out of her panties, she wraps her long legs around my waist and slides her folds over my tip.
As the simmering pilot light of our desire flares to full heat, I turn her to the wall and reach for her jellybean. Slick liquids reward my stroking and when her knees go weak, I swivel her and devour her mouth.
Her ankles locked behind my back, I reach between us, and caress her nub. As she falls apart, I thrust up, entering fully.
Thighs tight, nails digging into the back of my neck, she holds on while we buck against the wall. In and out, faster and faster, I climb toward heaven.
“Fuck, oh fuck.” My balls fill, my body coils, and in a final surge, my juices explode inside her.
Boneless and high on our orgasms, we shudder through the tremors and aftershocks, then float down to reality.
She stretches one toe to the floor but I’m not ready to face the real world. “Mmm. No. Stay put.”
“We need to go.” Her hands slide up the back of my head and my cock stirs inside her.
“Damn, if we had a bed, I’d go another round.” I pull out fully and as she trembles, her brown eyes, flecked with gold, capture mine.
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.” Hell, those four letters don’t even begin to describe how I feel for her but there isn’t enough time to show her.
After we clean up in the bathroom, my wife steps into her undies, straightens my tie, and tucks me in.
As we gaze at each other in the mirror, she shakes her head. “Everyone is going to know what we were up too.”
“What? We were trying out our new house. See if it fits.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Got a better idea?”
“Nope. And if Nona’s sweet bread is all gone, you are getting the recipe from her and making me some.”
“Yes ma’am.” Outside, I walk her down the sunny sidewalk and whistle the funny tune my niece made up a few weeks back.
“Seriously Suds? Penis-weenis?” At Sam’s mock horror, I grin.
“Under the circumstances, it seems appropriate.”
“Well, don’t let her hear it. She’ll start up again and Joey will make us speak to her teacher again. Sister Dorothy will never be the same.”
Laughing, we intertwine fingers and as we stroll to brunch, I count my blessings. I’ve gone from severe PTSD to private eye, and now, I’m a happy homeowner, blue balls behind me.
As I kiss my sugar’s swollen lips and wrap my arm around her waist, I breathe out a happy sigh.It don’t get much better than this.
The End
Epilogue
Dashiell Montclair
Boasting caterers, a jumpy castle for kids, and a tent for dancing, Grayson Patten’s backyard barbeque rivals any found in Hollywood. The only thing missing is the paparazzi which at this point, I’d welcome if they could help me find Landy.
