“Are you disappointed that he’s not your son?” Dior’s question annoyed me at first, but then I really pondered what she was asking. I never thought about being a father. I can’t exactly say I’m disappointed, but I wondered whether I truly wanted to be a father. Would I even be good at being responsible for a little human? I was emotionally unavailable most of the time. Yeah, I’d suck at being somebody’s dad.
“Nope. Catalina seems to be a good mother, and Enzo is a great kid. He doesn’t need somebody coming in between what his mother built from scratch, all by herself.” I felt Dior’s eyes on me as I answered her question.
“Where are they now? Catalina and Enzo, where did they go?”
“They’ll be flying back to Italy today.” After answering her question, we sat in silence for about a minute.
“Did Victoria know that Enzo wasn’t your son all along?” Dior asked with a thoughtful look. I do believe she was beginning to realize the kind of woman my mother was.
“Yup, she did. Way before Enzo was even born, my mother knew Catalina was pregnant. She gave her some money and made her promise to stay away from me,” I explained further. I can’t say I was mad at my mother; she did what she thought was the right thing. She was always very protective of her cubs like a momma bear.
“Damn, your mother’s good. I would have never guessed she was playing me all this time,” Dior said, shaking her head. I took in her messy hair and reached over to brush a wild strand away from her cheek.
“Did you even try not to look like a hobo before you left the house?” I cracked, happy that we were no longer mad with each other. Looking down at her attire, Dior laughed a little and then touched her hair.
“Shit, I must look a fucking mess,” she shook her head.
“How did you even get here?” I asked.
“Sofia lent me her Mercedes. She’s always very nice to me,” Dior fiddled with her fingers on her lap.
“Then, I guess we’ll have to get you your own car so you’ll stop using Sofia’s. By the way, you don’t look a mess,” I reassured her, using my hand to gently caress her cheek. Dior turned to me and smiled shyly.
“Are you coming home today? Or do you need another night away from me?” She made a face as though she wanted to cry. Her sad face was cute as fuck.
“You missed me that much, huh?” I teased, causing her to roll her eyes to the back of her head.
“No, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t up in this mothafucka with another female. I’m too cute to go to prison,you know.” I laughed at what she said because if anybody deserved the nickname,petardo. It was definitely Dior; she kept me on my toes.
“Yeah, you definitely missed me.” I reached over and playfully squeezed her breast. She lightly tapped my hand away, giving me an annoyed look as if she didn’t enjoy what I did.
“Come show me how much you missed your husband,” I told her. My body had already begun to respond to her. My dick started to come to life.
“I really shouldn’t because I’m still mad at you.” Even as she said those words, she got to her feet and stood in front of me. I licked my lips as she hooked her fingers in her baggy sweatpants and slowly pulled them down.
“You didn’t even call me. You let me sleep in that big bed all alone. By the way, Lotus slept in your spot to keep me company,” I made a face because she knew I didn’t like Lotus sleeping on my bed; she had her own bed. I tilted my head as I admired the plain black cotton panties she was wearing. Nothing overly sexy with lace trimmings. Just a normal pair of panties that covered everything. That shit was so fucking sexy to me, my dick turned to cement.
“These granny panties are sexier than a mothafucka,” I told her, reaching over so I could run my finger over the front.
“Yeah, you like these?” Dior asked, rolling them down from her body. I smiled, enjoying the playful striptease. Once they were completely off, she threw them at my face. I caught those big ass draws and sniffed them, closing my eyes as Dior’s natural scent invaded my nostrils. When she reached for the tank top, I stopped her.
“Nah, leave that on and come here,” I summoned her over with my index finger. Lifting my ass off the bed, I pulled my boxers down just enough to free my dick that was standing at attention.
Dior wasted no time. Walking over, she placed her knees on either side of me and straddled my body.
“Let me feel that pretty pussy,” I told her, putting my three fingers to my mouth, and I spit on them. Using my saliva, I pasted it on her clit and rubbed it slowly in a circular motion.
“Mmmm,” Dior moaned, closing her eyes. I loved the way her hips undulated against my fingers. I plunged my index and middle fingers inside of her wetness and smiled when her walls clenched. Sucking me in, holding my fingers hostage.
“Let me see you play with your nipples as you fuck my fingers.” I lifted her top just enough for her bare breasts to peek out. I loved Dior’s breasts; they were big, juicy, firm, yet bouncy.
Looking right at me, she reached up with both hands and began squeezing her breasts as she pinched her nipples.
“You like that? You like the way my nipples get so hard, and my pussy gets so fucking wet,” Dior said, her hips making slow circles, rocking on my fingers buried inside her.
“You got all that fucking mouth. Let me see you take every inch of this big mothafucka,” I pulled my hand out and held my dick, inviting her to come sit on it.
“Think I’m scared?” she asked, talking shit as she wrapped her warm fingers around my dick. I smiled when she positioned herself over me. Getting ready for me to plunge inside of her and stretch her walls until she felt like she would split in two.
