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My tone changes instantly, “Husband is always looking for a way to make all of this even bigger for us. On some millionaire shit.”

“And you will, baby. But learn to live in the moment. Focus on the now. Look around. This house, our lifestyle, us, this is already the dream. You’ve done so much already in a short amount of time. Mr. Shepherd Express award winner,” we stop to kiss before the affirmations continue, “Magazine feature star. Cafe owner. Big dick dom. You’re everything, Damien.”

Shorty could be a motivational speaker if she chose to. Her words strike a chord, reminding me again why she’s the one. She's always been the one. Just like that, I’m thinking back to our wedding day. Morgan in that beautiful white gown, sauntering down the aisle while a rare stream of tears floods my eyes. One of the few times in my life that I’ve ever blubbered

unapologetically. Her vows to me will stand the test of time. The last line in particular really hit the soul. I vow to be here through thick and thin, until the end. Sick or hurt, I vow that you’ve got me. Until the air in my body becomes too difficult to maintain.

It runs through my mind as she’s pulled close to me, unifying our body heat. My hands find the small of her back in no time, as if I know the exact curve of her waist. Her head resting on my shoulder is the most comforting weight to ever carry. I kiss her forehead twice more, letting the endorphin rush from her encouragement fully sink in.

The water bottle is somewhere on the floor. Or the counter. Fuck if I care. Who can really remember? Of all the joys in the world- hitting a big parlay, cheap gas, buttercream frosting on a marble cake- the moments where I can just hold my wife in my arms tops them all. Without question. We’re so close together, her heartbeat can be felt speeding against mine.

“You make me everything,” I admit, staring as deeply into her eyes as I plan to be in her, “Don’t ever forget about yourself, Ms. Bar Owner. You are an endless vacation from the bullshit life can bring. On everything I love, I love you.”

Her stare transitions from innocent admiration to total seduction. Mutuality is scary sometimes. Maybe it’s the YSL cologne. Ever since I switched from my previous scent, she’s really been stuck to my skin. Her hands roam around my waist, slowly trailing down to my dick. It stiffens in a heartbeat just from her simple touch. My hardness quickly brings a smile that only wicked women can produce.

“Hmm. It’s still awake for me, huh?” She’s caressing it harder, sliding her hand towards my waistline again. This time, she’s going for home base. As quick as it takes to blink, they’re snuggled inside the shorts. Dancing around my dick with an almost shy nature. The skin-to-skin contact wakes me completely. Just what she hoped for.

“Always for you. So…what do you plan on doing about that?”

Her robe immediately drops to the floor, “What I always do…make it shoot for me. So, sit yo’ fine ass down.”

She doesn’t have to ask twice. As if she was asking at all anyway. A chair is swiftly pulled from the table, positioned right in the center of the kitchen. Morgan immediately straddles my waist, kissing all over me at a maniacal pace. My hands run down her back as I’m sucking both titties. Her face ends up by the crook of my neck, licking her way up towards my earlobe. She nibbles on it to follow up, turning me on even more. Something I didn’t even think was possible with her.

“I can’t wait to have you inside me again,” she whispers flirtatiously, plunging her tongue into my ear hole. I’m in a frenzy as she eases me inside her safe place. Her pussy feels so fuckin’ good. It’s like being inside of a jacuzzi after a long day. A wet relief of anguish. She widens her legs, fucking me at an inhibited pace. My mind is somewhere floating between the Moon and constellations. The chair is barely stable underneath us, fighting for its life not to break under our weight. Morgan doesn’t give a fuck. She’s riding me like our 401k depends on it.

“You’re so warm and tight,” I’m clenching her ass with my left hand, stimulating her clit with the right, “This pussy is royalty. Just like you.”

That’s like telling her Summer Walker tickets are on sale for only five dollars. Or that Dunkin brought back the Biscoff cookie cold foam. She’s overdosing on elation, moaning my name with an impending climax rising in her voice. Her nails embed the skin on my shoulders while my dick pulsates energetically. I’m close to exploding myself. Her first, though.

“Ready to cum for me?” She kisses me with force.

“I’m ready to cum with you.”

My tongue trails down her neck. Then back up again before I’m reconnected to the base of her ear.

“You deserve this dick,” I say inside it, “You know that? You’re the fuckin’ greatest.”

“Keep going…” she begs through whimpers, her body contracting around me. I’m slow fucking her from underneath with added aggression in my thrusts.

“I’m wealthy just from being in your presence.”

Thrust. Thrust. “Bae…ooh bae…”

“You’re my greatest investment. Worth more than an undiscovered diamond.”

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. “Fuck…”

I have her on the edge now. This is her moment. The spotlight is completely on her with no supporting actress to share the Oscar with. All she needs is that extra push of motivation.

“Yeah, that’s right. Give yourself up to Big Daddy. I’m right here. This is a safe place. Squirt as much as you want. Make me proud like you always do. Demonstrate how much you love me all over my dick. Be a good listener for your husband.”

She trembles through her final full-strength gyrations, holding me dead tight. It feels like we’re on a roller coaster, seconds from taking the big breathtaking drop. Her elated cry of sensual finality reverberates through the kitchen. I’m right behind her, racing toward the finish line. I let out a lion's roar, emptying the tank before our bodies go rigid from gratification. I needed this shit. Badly. The calm arrives soon after the end of the storm. We’re like two basketball players during a timeout, silent and heaving. We both burst into laughter to disguise our shame, filling the room with some type of noise until we remember how to properly use words.

“You good?” Morgan struggles to say, still waiting for her legs to recover.

I’m sitting back in the chair, numb as if my entire body was injected with Novocaine. She’s wearing the effects too, hobbling around like she landed bad on her ankle after finally climbing off me.

“I’m great.”