“Right back at ya, Caveman.”
She clings to me as I fuck her, and nothing beats this. Feeling my wife’s walls hug my cock as I take her is nirvana. No matter how many times we’ve done this over the years, every time feels more incredible than the last.
I know we’re lucky.
I know not everyone experiences this.
It only makes me more protective of her and this life we’ve built.
Abby’s nails dig into my shoulders, and I feel her clamping around me as my balls tighten and tingles emanate from my lower spine. “Hold on tight,” I grunt, picking up my pace and pounding into her as I become a slave to my need.
When she’s close, I rub her clit in time to my thrusts, and we shatter into bliss together, panting and moaning in unison.
“I needed that,” Abby rasps, unfurling her legs from around me.
“I’m not even close to done,” I warn, carefully setting her down.
“Good.” She playfully bites one of my nipples. “My need for you is at an all-time high right now.”
We quickly shampoo and rinse our hair, and I drag a cloth with shower gel all over her gorgeous body. After a quick blow-dry, we fall into bed in a jumble of limbs as our lips collide. Our hands explore familiar terrain as we kiss, and I don’t object when Abby climbs on top of me, grinding against my hard-on before she impales herself on it. She rides me skillfully, slamming up and down while I toy with her clit and play with her tits.
After, I pull her up on her knees and take her from behind, but my need still isn’t slaked. Flipping her onto her back, I push her knees up to her chest and angle her hips before plunging inside, groaning at the exquisite feel of her inner walls squeezing my dick. I purposely slow down after the first few thrusts, making sweet love to her as she undulates underneath me. My hands are worshipful, my lips adoring, as I stare at the woman who has given me the most incredible life.
Sometime after four a.m., we finally succumb to sleep.
A persistent tapping on the door rouses me from slumber. Abby is still passed out. I fucked her good, and I’m glad she appears to be in a deep sleep. Being careful not to wake my wife, I crawl out of bed and grab a pair of sweatpants, hurriedly pulling them on.
Opening the door, I’m not surprised to discover Amelia. Our youngest has always been an early riser. “Hey, Mellie.” I tousle her hair, and she scowls.
“Dad.” She drags out the word, swatting my hand away and smoothing out her dark hair so there isn’t a strand out of place. She cut it into a bob last week, ahead of starting high school in August. New school, new look apparently. “You’re so annoying.”
I crack a grin. “It’s part of the job,” I retort, messing up her hair again.
“Ugh, Dad!”
“Shush. Mom’s still sleeping.”
“Maybe stop being so annoying then, huh?” She levels me with a look as she plants her hands on her hips, and the expression takes me back in time. Our youngest might favor me in looks, but her personality is all her mother’s.
“What’s up, young Padawan?” I close the door and start walking.
“Oh, my gawd, Dad! Now you sound like Uncle Xavi.” Our youngest keeps stride with me.
“Blasphemy,” I tease, slapping a hand over my bare chest.
When we walk into the kitchen, I slam to a halt at the sight of our other children seated around the table eating breakfast. “You’re all up early.”
Oli ignores me, dipping his head as he shovels cereal into his mouth.
Talia chuckles. “It’s eleven a.m., Dad. Your inner clock malfunctioning today?”
Damn. I can’t remember the last time we slept so late. Guess stress and nocturnal activities will do that to you. “Huh,” I say, grabbing a mug from the cabinet.
“I need a ride to Rhonda’s house,” Amelia says, finally revealing the reason for her wake-up call. “A bunch of us are going to the beach.”
“Okay, let me?—”
“I’ll take her.” Oli’s chair scrapes across the floor as he hops up. “I’ll drop her on the way.”
