My long legs ate up the distance between our circle and the car in no time, and Cassie lashed out as soon as I climbed in. “Crying? Really, Thatcher? You made Georgia fluffing cry? None of this was even her fault! She was more of a victim than an accomplice!”
“You can go,” I told the driver, using all of my willpower to keep myself from smiling at my wife’s righteous indignation. One of the things I loved most about her was the endless depth of her heart. If you were in with Cassie Kelly, you were motherfluffing in.
As the car started to roll on my command, she shifted her attack. “He can go? Go where? Where the hell are we going? I didn’t even say goodbye to my son!”
I turned toward her and raised my eyebrows. She broke pretty quickly, which wasn’t characteristic of her. She must have been more upset about being in trouble than she was letting on.
“Okay, fine. I’m not really all that crushed that I didn’t get to say goodbye. He tends to punch me in the tit when I do. But, still.”
The image of my little son abusing her perfect chest was enough to crease the skin between my eyebrows.
“Yeah, I’ve got to have a serious talk with him about that. That goes against every single one of our house rules.”
“House rules?” she questioned, because, yeah, we didn’t have any house rules.
“Yes. It’s really only one rule, and it’s that your tits are religious. He’s practically assaulting a member of the clergy.”
“You still love my tits?” she asked hopefully, and finally, I cracked. Into a smile, out of the ruse, and into my absolute favorite slot in her heart.
Leaning forward, I quickly touched my lips to hers before settling my eyes back on the road. “If there ever comes a day that your tits aren’t on top for me, Crazy, you might as well put me in the ground.”
“They’re going to sag one day,” she hedged.
“The better to drape over myself,” I argued, and she laughed.
“So…you’re not mad at me?”
I shook my head and settled back into my seat. “I’m a little sad. I mean, you were off your game a little, honey.”
“Ugh!” she huffed. “It’s the pregnancy hormones.”
Just as she finished the sentence, we pulled up in front of Wes and Winnie’s place, and her gaze turned to the window.
“Thatch?” she questioned immediately, but her gaze stayed fixated on the bright color of each bouquet of roses that sat on the front porch of the house and glowed beneath the fading daylight.
“Twenty dozen,” I told her. “Every single one from my unbelievably talented dick. But I’m sure you’re not surprised, huh? This isn’t the first time he’s managed to send his favorite woman flowers.”
Her sobs were a mixture of laughter and tears as she pushed open the door and climbed down to the sidewalk.
I jumped out of my side and rounded the car, and with my hand pressed gently against my wife’s lower back, we moved closer to Wes and Winnie’s front porch.
She gasped once she spotted the real surprise. “Is that…” She paused, and her jaw damn near hit the sidewalk as she took in the most important part of the surprise. It sat inside a giant basket, and an even bigger pink bow was wrapped around it.
“Yep,” I touted. “That, right there, is—”
“A prototype of the Mother Fluffer,” she whispered. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and a gorgeous smile kissed her perfect mouth.
My crazy woman had a dream, folks.
A vibrator dream of epic proportions. The kind of vibrator that stimulated the clit, the pussy, the yeah, everything, and gave women the absolute most intense orgasm of their lives while making almost zero noise in the process.
And since she’s my wife, and my life’s mission is to make all of her dreams come true,
the Mother Fluffer is now a reality.
Although, it needs to be noted that I can still and always will be able to work Cassie’s body better than any vibrator, even the Mother Fluffer.
“That’s no prototype, honey,” I corrected with a smirk. “That’s post-production. All set to debut in Sextopia and Sure Romance next week.”
“But…why?”
Why today? was what she was really asking. Why would I reward her with a gift of boning proportions on the day she’d attempted to make my life a living hell? Well, for one, nothing my wife had done today was any kind of surprise.
“Because this vibrator is your dream, and I couldn’t think of any better time to debut it than Mother’s Day. She’s just as quiet and every bit as intense as you wanted.”
And two, I’d been planning a Mother’s Day reveal from the beginning. Granted, the original execution was altogether different and within the privacy of our own home, but quite frankly, this was better.