“It’s not bullshit,” she bites out, throwing her dress off, revealing black lace tights, long black shaper pants, and a black satiny maternity bra. “Look at me. Seriously, with your rose tinted everything-is-greatLeoglasses off, andlook at me,dickface.”
“What do you think I fuckingdoevery single day?! I burst out, and she shuts up. “I stare at you, several times, twenty four seven, and think,holy freaking shit, how did I get so lucky?! How is my wife so stupidly gorgeous just brushing her teeth?! And I’ll be watching you be our daughter’s mother, and seriously, you’re doing agreatjob, by the way, andwhenI’m watching you, I’m simultaneously gettingpainfully hardat how much of a damn MILF you are, and counting the motherfucking days until I can get inside you again.” I pull on my hair in frustration. “Christ alive, woman…” I walk towards her, backing her up against the wall and grabbing her hand again. Her eyes fly really wide open as I press it against my crotch, which,surprisesurprise, is like concrete for the woman I love more than my own life. “This is what you do to me, then, now, and always, whether you’re pristine or covered with the roadmap of your life, the marks that show you’velived,” I say to her, slowly and clearly. “I fuckingwantyou, and I’ve got the blue balls of a teenage virgin reading his dad’sPlayboys. But if you’re not ready, say no more, it’s one hundred percent OK, I’ll jerk myself off in the shower like I’ve doneevery single dayfor the past six weeks. Butfor fuck’s sake, don’t say no because you think I don’t like your body just as it is now. Just as it was then, and whatever it wants to become.” I drop to my knees, relishing the way she clutches my hair as a sign she believes I’m telling the truth, and pull the knickers that are holding her post-baby belly in until the stretch marks she so reviles are revealed to me.
How can anyone anywhere think these are ugly?I kiss one. Then another. Then another. “This is where you kept my daughter safe and sound for nine months. And if you think I care that the process left marks behind, or that I don’t freakin’cherishwhat they symbolise, thenyouare the dickface here.”
I look her dead in the eye, and my heart pulls as I see the tears pouring down her face. “I will lay you down on that bed and go no further than kissing every mark, every lump and bump, and consider it my life’s big privilege. Or, I’ll throw you down on there and fuck you to kingdom come. But either way, I love you a genuinely insane amount. And I willnothave you talking shit about my wife, or acting like she’s not sex on legs at any shape or size.”
I grunt a little as she tugs me up by my hair roots, and I can taste her tears as she yanks me to her for a hard, furious kiss. I groan, mostly because I can’t help it, but also to make it even clearer to her that I am fuckinginto this.
My shirt is suddenly stifling, and it’s like she reads my mind because she rips it open, scattering buttons everywhere andsending them clacking to the floor. I pull her closer, but her bra, her tights, her fucking Spanx, they’re in the way. I can’t feel her skin against mine, and abruptly, I find that fact intolerable.
“Fuckinghell, woman,” I say against her lips as I pull them off, tearing the lace of her hosiery, “can’t you see…you make meweak at the knees.”
“Shut up and do me,” she snarls, and there. There she is. My fierce Boudicca, radiating the same power that made me fall for her damn near instantly.
“You got it,” I snarl back, and shove her back on the bed, making her squeal in surprise. As I look down at her body, so abundantly curvy and full of life, my dick surges so hard that I don’t think I’d need more than a couple of jerks to release all over her. Less than a couple if it was her hand instead of mine doing the stroking.
“Get naked,” she orders me, “unless you’re all talk?” She gives me a challenging look.
“Will you stop fucking talking like that,” I growl, obeying her as quickly as I can and then pouncing on top of her, grabbing her jaw. “You. Are.Mine.” I kiss her brutally, wanting to steal her breath, wanting to bruise her lips with my own.
She clings to me, whimpering happily and rubbing her wet core against my poor, barely-hanging-on-as-it-is cock. “Yours,” she agrees, the word muffled against my mouth.
Baseball… That time I had strepthroat… Click taking a dump when I take him for a walk… The payroll spreadsheets… All the killers in every shitty horror film she’s ever made me sit through…
When I’m sure I’m back under control enough not to embarrass myself and put a premature end to this amazing date night, I roll us over so she’s on top. The longer she straddles me, the more her self-assuredness grows until she’s meeting my eye with the same smart-ass confidence she used to have.
“You know what to do,” I whisper, willing her to read my mind and do exactly what I’m thinking. The reverse coital alignment technique is one of her preferred positions, on top of me, our legs parallel, grinding away until she peaks. It has never yet failed to get her off, and I usually follow quickly behind because penetration this way issnug.
She smirks, teasing me at first by notching mejustat her entrance, just the first inch, circling her hips and making mefrantic, until she slams down mercilessly. I shout, and she groans, and we slam together over and over. But just a second before my balls tighten to the point of no return, she stops. Her hips are still, and I shudder under her, crazy with need for the friction again, but she runs her fingers gently over my face, soothing me. “Shhhh,” she whispers, soft as candy floss, before straightening out her legs like I wanted her to, keeping me inside her. It makes me breathless, dizzy, as she writhes on top of me, and I slap her ass repeatedly until she’s crying out as well.
She circles her hips over and over, and when we come together, it’s so hard and sobrutal, almost, that my fingers dig into her and hers into me as we clutch each other for dear life while we ride it out. My head is spinning pleasantly, my temples are pounding painlessly, and I’m seeing spots, and I’m so fucking happy and satisfied that I start chuckling.
“Wow,” she says, lifting off me and settling at my side, her chin resting on my pec. “I missed that.”
I take her hand and cover her fingers with kisses. “Me too.” I brush a lock of hair out of her face, enjoying how flushed and sparky she is in the aftermath. “How did it feel? Are you doing OK?” I’m assuming so, given that I deliberately let her set the pace once I was inside her.
“Yeah, it was…reassuringly the same.” She grins. “And I’m sore in agoodway, not a need-more-stitches way.”
We lie there together, catching our breath, soft touches and affectionate caresses keeping us in our bubble of intimacy for long moments.
“Not to be that person,” I begin once we’ve fully relaxed again, “but I’m starting to miss my other favourite girl.”
“Ditto,” she says instantly, and we beam at each other at the prospect of taking our baby daughter home and rocking her to sleep.
As she puts her clothes back on, her just-fucked hair looking as sexy as hell, she grins and points at the night stand. “I remember one time when I stayed here overnight, back in the day. I saw an empty condom wrapper, and it made me laugh.”
One side of my mouth pulls up in a grin. “Back in my man slut days, while you were keeping me waiting.”
“Now you’remyman slut,” she says, walking towards me and reaching around to pinch my butt.”
“Fuck, yes, I am,” I agree.
I was then.
I am now.
And that’s exactly what I always will be.
