I think about Chance, even though I try to think about mixing the right tones for this girl. Unfortunately, that doesn’t take me long enough to figure out, doesn’t hold my attention for more than a few seconds, and my mind drifts back to him.
I think about all that’s good about him. How sweet he is. How caring. Howwillinghe is to do anything and everything our family needs. He doesn’t make me feel like it’s my job to parent while he makes the money, even though he does make the big bucks, his wagesdoallow me to not need to work (these days, I just do it because I want to, but we didn’t always have that liberty). But he does whatever is needed around the house without complaining about it, ever. This weirdo treats it like it’s fun for him.
Helping with homework. Feeding the kids. Playing with them. Bathing them, putting them to bed, helping to dress them or get them ready for the day.
Taking care of the dog, his feedings, all the trips outside in all hours and all weather.
Sometimes he makes dinner, sometimes he goes to pick up dinner for us if we decide fuck it and opt for take-out.
It’s actually like he is justhappyliving life with the six of us. Whatever that looks like. However mundane.
He’s so fucking pure when I look at it like this.
He never asks for anything. Isn’t that weird? He never wants to spend money, to buy anything large for himself. I guess he got the Xbox, but that was years ago at this point. He doesn’t even ask for anything from me, really.
Another thing is he lets me spend as much money as I want. Not in the sense that I need his permission to spend it, but he never tries to talk me out of something I really want, or tell me it’s a waste of money to buy the newest makeup, or that gorgeous bra, or some shoes I’ve been dying for. Never tries to restrict or restrain me. (Unless it’s with silk ties and I’m asking for it, ayy-oh.)I know I’ve been lucky in a lot of ways with him. I listen to Lola, to Ellie, even Roxanne, who’s still madly in love with her husband Eli, but he’s got ED now and their sex life is nothing like it used to be. None of my friends have the kind of stories I do about the hot shit my man does to me.
I know those have been few and far between recently, but he has been trying. If I could only get over whatever is left of this fiery monster inside me and what I saw that night, drop that final barrier between us and let him back in…I know it’ll be good between us again, physically. My last two (failed) attempts at keeping him out of my pants already proved there’s still that hunger, that chemistry between us that we’ve always thrived off of.
I just…don’t know if I can. I feel myself shutter up against him every time I get close.
On my way out, I stop by Roxanne’s office in the back to say hi. Haven’t seen her around much lately, but I miss her face. For being one of my closest friends, I really don’t put in the work, or enough time with her to earn that title in return. I think I want to try to again.
As I give her a kiss on the cheek and head toward the Tahoe outside—Chance kept the minivan today, as usual, another adorably sweet thing he does without complaint—something Roxanne told me about her own marriage years ago comes back to me.
It was right after Chance and I got married, so about eleven years ago? I was renting a station from her, a little booth, and we’d just started getting close.
As she was handing me a card with a very generous check in it for our wedding present, she said something that buried itself deep into my memory banks. Something that was only just unearthed when I walked out of her office just now, the scenery so similar to that day, that her words were triggered. I can still hear them echoing in my head, how she imparted them with such kindness, such wisdom, speaking from experience.
“When you marry someone, you take all the best parts of them, and all the worst parts of them. And they take all of yours, too. And together, you hope that each other’s good makes the other’s bad a little less, and you try like hell to make sure each other survives as best as possible, and if you’re lucky, you have a lot of fun along the way.”
And that’s when I realize. Chance really doesn’t have very much bad in him. And I haven’t been giving him enough of the good in me, or even helping him thrive like I could be. And we sure as hell haven’t been having enough fun along the way.
I think it’s timeItry to change that.
SEVENTEEN
CHANCE
My wife hasn’t admitted she was wrong once in her damn life, I’m sure of that fact.
But her lips wrapped around my dick before my eyes even open this morning, that’s her form of an admission. As close to an apology as I’ll get from her. And fuck if it’s not good enough for me.
“Mmm,” is all my vocal cords can manage within three seconds of waking, so it’s what I give her.
My eyes open just in time to see her tiny little head bob down, my cock disappearing inside of one of its favorite places to be, and that wakes me up a lot fucking faster. My hips buck in response, and I don’t mean to gag her before the sun is even up, but fuck, that magic tongue of hers… I have no control when she wields it on me.
She splays her hands on my hip bones, palms wrapped around me right below where that V used to be once upon a time, holding me down as she continues to move up and down my length, moaning as she goes.
Best Monday morning of my fucking life right here.
My arms go up to rest behind my head, and I enjoy my second favorite view. Her pussy stretching around me takes top place, but damn this is gorgeous, too.
Nice try, Mother Nature, but the Bob Ross-esque sunrise you’re working on has got nothing on this beauty.
I’m not in full control of my mental faculties at the minute, but even if I were, I don’t think I could tell you the last time she went down on me, much less the last time she woke me up like this.
Not that she’s stingy with her mouth. But you’ve been with us, you know what it’s been like. I don’t need to beat a dead horse.
