He fucks me like a punishment. The brutal snaps of his hips have me bouncing on my toes, slamming me into the wall. He hits my cervix and I yelp, the ache soothed into lust as he changes his angle, hitting that sweet spot inside me.
It’s ridiculous, but to my hazy mind the noise of slapping flesh sounds like a beat. Our moans are like a half-formed melody.
His movements turn erratic. “Fuck, I don’t think I can last long… your pussy is pure heaven.”
“I’m close, too,” I getout.
His free hand wanders to my clit, hovering over the swollen nub. “Does my pretty girl want an orgasm?”
“Please, I need to come!”
He lets out a low chuckle, his tongue sliding along the shell of my ear as he whispers, “But does my perfect girldeserveto come? Or should I keep you squirming on the brink? Should I make you beg and plead for relief?”
My entire body is taut like a tightrope on fire. An orgasm is so close I can almost let go and drop into that bottomless pool of pleasure.
“I thought you weren’t gonna make me beg,” I pant.
Rust growls. With one hand around my throat and one between my legs, he has me under complete control. “I changed my mind.”
“Please, please let me come!”
“Say.”Thrust.“My.”Thrust.“Name.”Thrust.
My pussy quivers and I can barely speak. “Please Rust… please I need to come on your cock.”
“Good girl.”
He pinches my clit, rolling it between his fingers. An instant orgasm barrels through me while his hot cum floods my inner walls, every pulse of his thick dick pumping more into my stretched cunt.
I would happily stay in this little bubble of ignorance and serotonin, but then he has to go and ruin it all.
“Fuck, Tally, I missed you so much…” he whispers.
Suddenly, I’m stone-cold sober with a fresh melody playing in my head and my fingers itching to pluck the strings of my guitar.
Shit, I just slept with my ex-husband. But on the upside, I think he fucked the songwriter’s block right out of me.
12
RUST
Humming alongto George Strait on the radio, I crack four eggs into the bacon grease in the skillet.
I’m tempted to compare the sensation in my chest to the buzz I get from one too many beers, but alcohol doesn’t come close to how Tally makes me feel. She’s the best high I ever had. I know the crash will be devastating, but right now I’m too happy to care.
After getting out of the shower, I dropped Tally’s bag off in the bathroom to let her do her curly hair routine. Soon, my rumbling stomach reminded me that we haven’t eaten yet. That’s why I’m fixing us a nice late breakfast. Or rather, early lunch.
Slow steps pad down the stairs, drawing closer. Tally appears in the doorway. She’s barefoot and wearing one of my old black T-shirts with a faded muscle car print as a mini dress. She must’ve stolen it from my closet in the master bedroom.
My heart skips while my cock gives a standing ovation.
Freshly fucked and wearing my clothes she doesn’t just look hot. She looks like mine again.My wife.
I let out a whistle, but she doesn’t seem to hear me. A damp curl is pinched between her kiss-swollen lips as she writes in a notebook. A long moment passes before she looks up, blinking.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
I laugh. “Nothing important. You still like your eggs over easy?”
