Sex Retreat(98)

Brock spanked her as he rode her from behind, smoothing his palm across her globes before popping her bottom once again. Her ass burned, but the scorching heat inside her pussy was far hotter than any strike she might endure.

She wanted another and then one more. She longed to experience everything they had to give.

Mitch pulled at his cock, the dark cloud of eroticism stamping its place on his beautiful masculine face. “Come, sub.”

Rory nipped at her earlobe. “You go when I go.”

“Then it better be now,” she teased, squeezing his cock with pulsing vibrations.

Brock held her hair and rode her like a well-bred mare, trained for show, groomed for pleasure. And she didn’t mind her own easy comparison.

As her climax took her to the brink of pleasure, she screamed out in satisfaction, shimmying her body as she tried to move closer to Rory while encouraging Brock to follow right behind. And as the room resounded with moans, grunts, and all the sounds of sex, Mitch came, too.

She knew he’d come in his hand by the multiple jolts and the sudden collapse against the pillows stacked behind him. And she couldn’t help but wonder, would he always feel like an outsider or would he somehow come to terms with the truth? He’d always held a very special place in her heart, and in their home.



* * * *



“Who’s he, Mommy?” Cazeron asked the next morning at breakfast.

“Honey, you’ve heard us talk about Mitch, our friend from Virginia.”

Cazeron watched him carefully and Mitch felt as if he had fallen under intense scrutiny. “What’s a Mitch doin’ here?”

“A Mitch?” Trixie asked.

“Uh-huh. Until we know somebody we say they are a stranger and I don’t know him so he’s a Mitch.” Cazeron studied him with a crooked smile. “Do you like frosted cereal?”

“I do,” Mitch replied.

“I’ll fix you some,” Cazeron offered.

Brock and Rory entered the kitchen then. They took a seat at the table and acted as if Mitch’s presence there was the norm, nothing at all out of the ordinary.

Brock picked up a silver baby spoon and fed Winter. Rory skimmed over the front page of the newspaper. Seconds later, he set aside the periodical. Apparently, their daily lives were far more interesting than the local news.

Cazeron served Mitch a bowl, spoon, and box of cereal. “Hang on.” He ran to the refrigerator, swung open the door, grabbed a carton of milk, and returned to the table.

“Thank you,” Mitch said.

“He likes you,” Trixie said. “He doesn’t wait on anyone. Not even me.”

Mitch grinned. “I like him, too.”

Cazeron dumped cereal in his bowl, stuck his hand in the middle of the flakes, grabbed a few of the frosted squares, popped them in his mouth, and splashed some milk over the cereal. “There you go, a Mitch.”

“Uh.” Mitch stared into the bowl.

“What’s wrong?” Cazeron asked.

Brock chuckled. “Afraid he didn’t wash his hands?”

“Caz, did you stick your fingers in Mitch’s bowl?” Trixie scolded him.

“It’s fine,” Mitch said, picking up his spoon and taking a hearty bite. “In fact this is the best cereal I’ve ever tasted.”

Cazeron gleefully skipped out of the kitchen. Winter reached for her other ‘Dada’ and Trixie sat down on Mitch’s lap, hooking her arm around his neck. “You like it here.”

“I like it here,” he agreed.

“So you won’t leave?”

Brock and Rory looked up as if they, too, were very interested in his reply.

“Well?” she pressed.

He shrugged. “You never know what the future holds.”

Brock laughed. “I have a pretty good idea.”

“Me, too,” Rory said.

“Don’t tease me.” Trixie watched Mitch as if she expected a solid commitment. And thank God, he was prepared to give her one.

“I wouldn’t do that, baby,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Do you want promises, Trixie?”

“Yes, Mitch. I want promises.”

“Then how about I promise you forever?”

“Really?”

“Really,” he said, kissing her lips. “I promise you forever, baby.”

“It’s about damn time.” Brock winked at Trixie. “Now you have everything you want, baby.”

“Well,” she drawled, hopping up on the counter and crossing one leg over the other. “I do have a few fantasies I still need fulfilled.”

Laughter filled the kitchen.

“Call Ansley,” Brock said. “Tell her we need her to babysit for a few days.”

Trixie copped a smile. “Can we take an adult vacation and maybe go to a lifestyle club?”