Three hours later, we are lying on the couch watching some fucking reality show that Lori has been obsessed with. You would think being a mom to a one-year-old would slow her television time, but not her.
Not one to let the opportunity to grope my wife pass me by, I slide my hand up Marissa's shirt to cup her tits. Fuck, still a handful. I roll her nipple and still after all this time she moans.
My hand slides down her still flat stomach into her shorts, then right into her slit. She's already wet and primed. "So fucking wet for me already," I tell her, shifting so she could spread open for me.
"Hmmmm. I played with myself in the shower," she says, and I know she isn't lying.
"Did you?" I ask, sliding one finger in her and then two. "What were you thinking about?" I finger her harder while she snakes her hand into my basketball shorts, her hand gripping my cock, squeezing it and matching the way I finger her.
"I was thinking about the time you bent me over while I was wearing my five-inch heels with my garter belt on." The memory makes my cock even harder. "You ate my pussy from the back."
I curve my finger up while pumping her pussy.
"Then you got up and fucked me hard," She starts gasping. "Fucked me so deep, remember? You even lifted me up a little. Balls hitting my clit so much it was starting to swell."
I moan in her neck, her hand fisting me fast.
"Then when I was about to come you played with my ass."
Fuck, that was a dream come true to me. My hips thrust up in her hand while I take my fingers out, licking them then sliding my tongue into her mouth so she tastes herself on me. She stops talking but only to suck my tongue into her mouth. She sucks my tongue the way she would suck my cock.
I rip her hand off my cock, pushing her off of me. I get up, kicking the shorts off me, my cock springing out. She falls to her knees in front of me, taking me deep in her throat, all the way to the back while her tongue twirls around me.
I let her have her fun for two minutes then I yank her up, pulling her shorts off. Her pussy is wet and waiting. I turn her around, bending her over the arm of the couch. She puts her knees on the arms and then bends over. I love the sight of her like this, open and waiting for me. I lean down, licking like I did that day she was talking about. From her clit to her opening where I slide my tongue into her. I fuck her with my tongue while she plays with her clit. I join her finger on her clit, playing along with her, dragging it on. Till I feel her muscle start to tremble on my tongue. I get up and plunge inside of her. She grabs the cushion on the couch to scream into. In this position, I'm deep and it's fucking tight.
I grab her hips while I pound into her. It takes two pumps before she comes all over my cock, her juices coming fast, leaking down my balls. My girl can come. I make sure my piercing rubs her G-spot each time I come out. Her pussy quivers again, and right before she comes again I suck my finger and stick it in her ass the next time I go balls deep. Her pussy gets even tighter with my finger in her ass. I work her ass the same time I work her pussy. "Fuck, babe, you're fucking soaking me," I tell her, my balls starting to draw up. "Next time I think I should fuck your ass." The thought of fucking her ass is just too much for both of us because I plant myself deep in her and empty myself the same time her pussy clenches and unclenches. The same time her head falls forward and she comes again and again. We stay like that till our breathing comes back to normal.
"Does it ever get bad?" she says later that night after we locked up and made sure the kids were okay.
I climb in after her, grabbing her in my arms and kissing her neck, smelling the strawberry soap she has on her. "Nope, not when you're touching pieces of heaven."
The Fucking End
Other titles from Natasha Madison
Hell And Back
Prologue
Walking into the bare room, I look around. A small dresser with three drawers sits up against the plain white wall.
A couple of shorts, shirts, and some socks fill the drawers, but most are empty. The small toddler bed lies in the middle of the room.
Two nails hold up a dusty sheet in the window to block out the light. It used to be navy, but the years of wear have turned it to baby blue.
I look down at my three-year-old daughter curled up into a small ball. Almost like she is guarding or protecting herself from whatever evil is lurking around us. She's seen enough blackness in her three years to last a lifetime.
She cried enough tears and heard enough sobs to fill twenty years' worth of scary movies.
When the doctor placed her on my chest I vowed to love and protect her, but I've failed her. I've failed myself. But no more. From that fateful day I vowed to right all the wrongs I did to her.
I've escaped the horror we've endured. The bruises are starting to fade. The black and blues have now turned into a greenish yellow.
The scars will fade, too, but the terror, the memories … nothing will erase them.
I wake my girl up and grab her from her bed. "Momma, we habe to leabe again?"
"No, baby, I just want to show you the stars outside." I tuck her into my chest and make my way to the porch.
No one knows about this one-story house my grandmother left me. Which is why we are safe. For now.
The yard is overcome with weeds. Something I plan to rectify tomorrow. We've been here for the last seven days, staying inside. Trying not to bring attention to us. I've done my best not to be too jumpy, but every time I hear a car door slam shut, I hold my breath, hoping no one is coming up the steps that lead to the front door.
We haven't even opened the windows. It is almost like we're shuttering ourselves inside this temporary safe haven as if we don't even exist.
Opening up the screen door, the rusty springs make a loud squeaking noise in the dead of the night. Trying not to make it slam shut, I hold the handle till it shuts softly.
The sounds outside are quiet. Serene. No car sounds, no horns honking, no rushing, just crickets. I settle into the swing I know my grandfather hung to make sure my grandmother had somewhere she could sit and watch the stars.
For thirty-seven years, they did it all together until death came and took my grandfather in his sleep. Ten years later, he came and rescued her from the pain of ALS. Her knitting, cooking, cleaning, gardening, baking all came to a halt the minute her hands shook so badly she couldn't hold not even a fork to feed herself.
Settling myself into the swing, I fold one foot under me, pushing off with the other one.
"So many stars, Momma." My brown-eyed girl looks up, pointing to what looks like a million twinkling lights in the sky.
The darkness of the sky makes them sparkle like diamonds. Some are small, some are blinking. All are beautiful. It's peaceful. It's everything I remember it to be.
It's hope, hope for change. Hope for the future. Hope for the end of the nightmare I have been living the last four years. "Look, baby, a shooting star. Make a wish."
She closes her eyes, and I see her lips move, but no sound comes out of her mouth. I lean down kissing her forehead, making my own wish.
I do this for the next thirty minutes, maybe more, pushing myself on that swing with one foot. Once I know she is asleep in my arms, I get back up to go inside.
The whole time I never realized that the neighbor across the street has been sitting in his living room with the lights off just staring out the window at two broken girls sitting across the street.
Something So Right
Prologue
Giddy like a kid in a candy store, I skip up the front steps of the house. I haven't seen him since he skated off the ice this morning and left me squirming in the locker room. Who knew dirty talk could be downright titillating? This girl right here, that's who.
I should just walk in like I normally do, but the door is locked, so I ring the doorbell, glancing around at the other houses. It's so peaceful this time of day. Families getting ready to either go to the big football game or making dinner. The sound of footsteps draws my attention back to the door, with the goofiest smile I've ever had.
"Hey-" The words die in my throat as I see a blond girl with legs all the way up to her throat wearing the same T-shirt he had on today. This can't be happening. Heart pounding to an erratic rhythm, all the blood must have rushed to my head because I'm suddenly hot.
"Can I help you?" Barbie asks, all perky and shit.
"Ummm," I stumble, trying to find my words because all I can think about is getting out of there before I embarrass myself or better yet get arrested for attempted murder. I mean, he was just with me almost naked!
"I was looking for Coop. Is he here?" The words finally dislodge from my throat.
She twirls her hair in her hand. Of course she does. She's a fucking Barbie. "Yeah, he just stepped in the shower. Who are you?"
"Oh, um, I'm Parker, his rehab coach."
"Oh, I heard so much about you. I'm Monica, the fiancée," she says, flashing her five-carat ring.
How did I not notice that rock while she was twirling her fucking hair?
"Nice to meet you. I was just dropping by to let him know the hours have changed for practice tomorrow and that Tom will be there to assist him," I say flatly, proud of myself for not saying what's really on my mind.