My gosh, it’s a bunch of horny women in here! I’ve already told y’all that there was a baby born from my story some years ago… Ya better watch ya’selves!
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I do not own Fifty Shades Trilogy, or the characters. They belong to E. L. James. I am only exercising my right to exploit, abuse, and mangle the characters to MY discretion in MY story in MY interpretation as a fan. If something that I say displeases you, please, just leave. If you don’t like this story or me, please don’t spoil this experience for everyone. Just go away. For the rest of you, the saga continues…
Chapter 65—Letting Off Some Steam
I’m in the shower, washing off the grime of the day. The children have been fed and all I can think about is the promise that Christian made to have me tonight. I don’t know what he has planned, but my clit has been pulsing in anticipation for hours.
Once I’ve finished my shower, I dry my skin and put on my half robe before going back out to our room. I find him sitting on the edge of our bed.
“There you are,” he says, rising like a panther and stalking over to me. He grabs me and kisses me deeply. “I need to taste you.”
Shit! He’s grinding against me hard as a rock! I’m in fucking agony here.
“Mmmmm!” he groans again in my ear, grasping my breast and thrusting his rigid erection against me. Fuck!
“Christian… you’re so hard. You know we can’t…”
“I know… I know… we won’t… just let me taste you, baby. I’ve got the rest. I’m going to try something new.” God, Christian, if you bring that thing anywhere near me, I won’t be responsible for my actions.
“Okay,” I breathe before his mouth closes over mine.
I’m lying on our bed, naked, waiting for Christian. He’s in his bathroom and has told me that he’ll be right back. Now, I’m anticipating what’s about to happen. When he comes out, he’s wrapped in a bath blanket. It’s not doing much to hide his erection as I can see it clearly from behind the terrycloth.
“Christian…” I warn.
“I know,” he whispers. “You don’t want to see it or you’ll want it. I can’t do much about it yet, but I want you too much. So close your eyes.” I do as I’m told and he lays something over my eyes. It’s only temporary—not meant to stay. I feel him on the bed between my legs, moving something, situating something… pillows I think? After a few minutes, I ask, “What are you doing?”
“When I bought the Tenga eggs, I also bought a Tenga Flip. Yes, it’s a masturbator, but I’ve looked up a way to use it hands-free so that I can feast on this delicious pussy and relieve myself at the same time.”
Now, why does that sound so fucking hot?
“I don’t get to watch?” I say, my throat dry.
“We’ll see,” he says, his voice heavy with arousal. The next thing I know, he’s over me, kissing me deeply and making me hot. I moan into his mouth. Shit! His tongue moves to my cheek, my ear, my neck and then he’s straddling me… naked.
“No fair,” I breathe.
“You can’t see me,” he says, his voice thick with sex. “Hands above your head, just for now…” I obey, and I feel his hand on me, hot and oily, right at my breasts. He massages them thoroughly, coating the mound up to the nipples, then pinching them repeatedly between his finger and thumb until they pebble, sending fiery shocks straight to my core.
“Christian,” I whine almost incoherently.
“Mm, you like that, baby? I like it, too.” I feel him move up my body and moments later, his rock hard penis is between my breasts. I can feel every single vein and see him in my mind’s eye—red and oily from my breasts, sliding between the copious mounds of meat.
“Christian!” I cry out, tortured that he’s not inside me.
“I know!” he pants. “I’m sorry. I had to feel your skin just once.” He immediately moves his penis, but continues the torturous massage of my breast. God, I’m mindless in needing him, in needing to feel some part of him. Maxie’s warning comes to mind about babies born ten months apart. I’d bear a set of triplets if he would just fuck me right now!
I feel his oily dick slide down my body and he gently takes one pebbled nipple in his mouth.
“Ah!” I cry out as the feeling once again shoots right to my core. He continues the manipulation, sucking and pinching, and as the twins have already emptied me, I’m nothing but nerves and sensation.
“Christian… please…” I squeak as the pressure builds in my pelvis.
“Sshh,” he says, now pressing his pelvis hard against mine, but not moving—no friction, it’s just… there, and I’m immobilized, while he sucks and pinches my tender nipples.
“Christian!” I plead. He doesn’t stop. The heat is unbearable, He presses harder against me, nothing moving, just pressure—building on the inside and pushing from the outside. I’m going to explode.
“Chri… stain…” I whimper as the unbelievable pressure finally reaches its mark and causes me to tremble.
“Um-hmm,” Christian says, his mouth full. He gives my nipple one final hard pinch and sucks the other one with massive pressure. I explode into volcanic eruptions and he grinds hard into my pelvis, no friction—just repeated pressure to push my orgasm deep, deep into me… fucking me without fucking me. Holy Christ. My legs open, unable to move, my hands above my head, my husband riding me and pressing me hard into the bed, my breath is snatched from my body with the one feral cry I can release as my orgasm rips my pussy and my breasts to shreds and I try to do the same thing to the sheets over my head. My makeshift blindfold has long since slid off my face.
“That’s right,” he groans. “Give me those juices, baby.” He finally releases my pelvis from its prison and it’s pulsing violently like we just fucked. How the hell did he do that? He slides from my body and after I catch my breath, I can see that he’s on his knees between my legs, his hands are both oily and he’s looking… where?
I have to focus for a moment. He’s on his knees and there are two pillows propped between my legs. He has his rock-hard, unforgiving erection in his oily hand and he’s pumping it feverishly, looking at… my pussy!
Shit, that’s hot!
“Christian,” I whine. He had to give me an orgasm first… a huge one, so that he could look at me and get himself ready.
“I know, baby,” he says, his voice tortured and aroused. “I won’t bring it near you… I don’t… want… to hurt you.” He’s so hungry, so needy… and he looks so good. He strokes himself a few more times. God, I don’t know how it turns me on so much watching him stroke himself. It’s only now that I realize that the Tenga Flip must be situated between the pillows, because that’s where he inserts his dick stroking two or three times and moaning. I’m almost jealous, until he lies flat on the pillows grabs my hips, bringing my pussy to him and eying it like a feast. He licks his lips deliciously before he licks mine.
“Ah!” I cry out at the initial contact. It feels like it’s been forever! He licks it again, and I cry out again. Fuck! I just came a minute ago! What the fuck! He moans deep and licks deeper and I think I’m going to pass out. Fucking hell! I grind into his face as much as I can, whimper and crying. He’s pushing me hard and fast, moaning into my pussy and it’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen… felt… heard. Hell, I don’t know. He moves his head from side to side to get deeper in my lips and…
“Oh God!” I can’t stand it. He’s got hold of that bundle of nerves that controls my every thought in moments like this. His tongue rims the opening of my vagina and just breaches it slightly—not too far—to collect the juices from my prior orgasm.
“Christian,” I squeak, so much pleasure lancing through me that I can hardly get the word out of my mouth.
“You can move your hands,” he speaks into my pussy and I can’t hear the words, but I know what he said. I reach down and grab his hair so that I can more easily grind into his mouth. He groans loudly and I feel the bed moving rhythmically. I look down at his body and his finely sculpted hips are grinding deliciously into those pillows.
I imagine that it’s me down there, being relentlessly drilled by his hard, throbbing cock. Another moan and a thrust tells me that my pussy feels… er, tastes good to him and I lift my knees and legs in the air, still gripping his hair. He groans loudly, sucking my clit and one of my lips into his mouth, his tongue lapping at my opening, and I have another screaming orgasm in his mouth. He holds my hips down, pumping violently into his Tenga Flip until he groans loudly again and stills, his hip muscles pushed firmly into the pillows. I remain still as I catch my breath, my fingers still in his hair, waiting. He’s panting into my pussy, but his tongue starts to move again, gently, slowly.
“Christian,” I protest softly. “I’m tender…”
“Um-hmm,” he says, without raising his head, but continuing the slow, gentle tasting of my genitals, careful to steer clear of my clit. I let my legs rest back on his shoulders, and he tastes my arousal from my opening again. It sends chills through me. My God, what this man does to me. His hands move from my hips to my pelvis and my stomach… and the pressure is hot.
“Oooooo,” I say involuntarily, as he continues to explore my lips, my opening, my hood. His hips begin to move again, and I realize that he’s not finished. Between the pressure on my pelvis, the not-quite stimulation of my core, and the sexy movement of his hips, I’m getting hot again.
“Christian,” I keen. He raises his eyes to me, his tongue still tasting my vagina. The way that he has me angled with my butt just at the top of the pillow, I can see his tongue liking the hood of my clit. What I see is even hotter than what I feel.
“Hold it open,” he says, his voice powerful and thick with lust. I do what he says and use my hands to separate my lips. He allows his tongue to explore the full area of my lips, clit and core while I watch. Seeing his tongue glide hard over my exposed clitoris sends delicious chills through me.
“Don’t let go,” he says, “even if you come… especially if you come.”
His tongue continues its rhythmic journey around my lips and over my clit and I watch, helplessly trembling in his mouth as his tongue runs torture over my tender clit—over and over and over again. He moans as he continues to lick, continues to thrust, his hips moving deliciously around those pillows in the same motion that his tongue moves deliciously over my clit. I’m trying to hold on, trying to hold it open, but my hands start to tremble.
His hips and tongue move slightly faster and I groan in my throat. I can’t take it. I can’t hold it open. I throw my head back, absorbing the pleasure just a bit as I try to keep my hips still and feel his mouth on me. When I raise my head, I can see my clit. It’s gotten slightly bigger, slightly redder, and it looks like the hood pulled back and right at that moment, he closes his mouth and suckles.
“Fuck!” I can’t help it. I grab his hair, close my eyes, thrust my hips forward and ride out this orgasm. It’s so intense, watching myself come in his mouth, looking in his eyes while he sucks me off. His hands clamp hard on my breasts and he’s thrusting feverishly—hard and violent, chasing his orgasm. He’s fucking that thing so hard that I don’t know how the hell it’s staying in place. He pulls me harder into his mouth, suckling deeply from the last orgasm, not letting me escape.
“Christian!” I breathe. It’s tender—still swollen and engorged. It hurts, but he’s primal, and he can’t stop. I close my eyes to bear it… try to find my subspace, but soon, the pain fades and is replaced again with pleasure. He’s still holding me down by my breasts, his fingers digging painfully into the tender meat. He’s still suckling my clit, searching for that last orgasm hiding in my loins, and pumping like a madman into those pillows and that Tenga, searching for his.
I don’t call his name anymore. He’s lost in his primal passion, sucking the juice out of me while the Tenga sucks the juice out of him. He pulls those breasts with each stroke, like he’s pulling me into him instead of this inanimate object milking his dick. His suckle is rhythm with each stroke—suck, release, suck, release, suck, release. Our primal grunts, whines, whimpers, and cries now mimic other as my fingers tangle tight in his hair and my legs clamp around his back and neck. It’s coming and it’s huge. He’s going to suck it right out of me and I can’t stop it and when it hits, I’m going to float the fuck right out of here if I don’t hold on.
His is coming, too, and he clamps down, suckles hard with maximum pressure and pinches those nipples mercilessly. No more rhythm, just constant pressure and I’m a fucking goner.
My body is shredded and thrashed in every possible direction as my pussy, breasts, and brain are mangled by an orgasm that truly rocks the foundations of the universe. I can’t see, hear, or speak and I think I interpret screaming somewhere, animal grunting, growling, howling, I don’t know. I feel bolts of electricity flowing through me, shocking me, jerking me uncontrollably. I feel high, like I have no control over time or space, and I have no idea how much time has passed when I float back down to myself and I’m crying, lying flat on the bed unable to move. My tormentor is lying beside me, holding me close and kissing my face over and over again, using words like, “amazing,” “beautiful,” and “unbelievable,” and all I can say is “please… please, no more… no more, please…”
“You are deliciously radiant, Mrs. Grey.”
We’re snuggled on the chaise in my sitting room looking out over the lake. It’s overcast and rainy, but I can’t feel it while basking in the warmth of my husband and our microfiber robes. I’m wrapped in his arms and legs on a lazy Sunday morning and he kisses my neck and shoulder after pulling my robe back to expose it a bit.
“Last night was incredible,” he says, “but I want us to wait now.’ I look over my shoulder at him
“Wait for what?” I ask.
“No more playing… no more orgasms until we have sex,” he says. “It’s only a week, but I don’t want to feel anything else until I feel you again. I want you tight, sensitive, and ready when I enter you. I want you aching for me to be inside you as much as I ache to be inside you.” I sigh heavily.
“It’s going to be hard, Mr. Grey,” I say, turning slightly in his arms and between his legs. “You turn me on so much. You just walk into a room and I want you.” I gently caress his sideburns while planting a quick, but deep kiss on his mouth, pulling his bottom lip gently between my teeth when our mouths part. “But the idea seems so titillating, I’m all for it. I think it’ll make our experience that much more explosive and exciting.” He rubs my hips and ass through the robe.
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” he says, licking my lips with the tips of his tongue and I groan lightly.
“I’m not going to make it deliberately harder,” I vow, “but I don’t promise to avoid you or keep my hands off of you.” I suck his tongue into my mouth and caress it with my own before closing my lips over his in a wet kiss, eliciting a soft moan from him. “… Or my mouth.” The hand on my ass squeezes deliberately.
“Yeah, you’re going to make this hard for me,” he whispers against my lips.
“Not any wetter than you’re going to make it for me,” I reply, absorbing his kisses as he cups my face to claim my lips.
After spending a somewhat lazy Sunday making out with my husband—nothing past second base—and taking care of our beautiful growing twins, we plot out the course of our week. Monday, we’ll be meeting with Broadmoor and the couple that hopes to sponsor us. I haven’t informed Christian, but Tuesday, I’ll be having my six-week check-up—two days early, yes, but I need to get the IUD inserted so that it will be in place when we finally consummate the birth of our children.
We’ve decided to wait until this weekend—Friday, to be exact—for that particular consummation. We’re taking a weekend away to reconnect and refresh, but we haven’t decided where we’re going yet. We know that there will be lots of wild sex and no matter how I try to ignore it, if that two-way goes off with my cooing children, all bets are off. So Luma has agreed to bring the girls over on Friday and spend the weekend helping Gail with the twins. Grace will be on call to assist if there are any problems and wherever Christian and I are, we’ll only be a phone call away. I couldn’t thank Luma enough for being willing to give up her weekend to help with the twins. She assures me that being able to spend the weekend at the Crossing with all of its amenities is more than payment enough for being able to take care of “those beautiful babies.”
I have to admit that motherhood has, so far, not been the trial that I thought it would. Granted, I really have a lot of help and I’m just getting started, but I truly prepared myself for the very worst right out of the gate and it just hasn’t happened yet, knock on wood. The babies’ one-month check-up went without a hitch a couple of weeks ago. Their feeding schedules are fairly normal as are their weight, height and head circumference, although Mikey is still a little smaller than his sister. Dr. Nahabedian tells us not to be concerned about that since his birth weight was small to begin with. He’s not unhealthy and that’s what we’re concerned about. Heart, lungs, reflexes, joints, ears, eyes, mouth, and genitals all look normal, and the umbilical stump fell off for Mikey by the time of the appointment. Minnie’s fell off a few days later.
Their fontanels are developing just fine, although Minnie’s head is still shaped a little weirdly. Once again, Dr. Nahabedian says that it will come into its own normal shape soon enough. After careful research and talking to Grace and De. Nahabedian, we’re sticking with our decision not to have Michael circumcised. We feel like there are far more health concerns involved with having it done than there are with not having it done. As long as we teach him proper hygiene practices, we’re assured that the extra foreskin shouldn’t cause him problems. Yes, my Christian upbringing is a bit at odds with this decision, but in this day and age, I think I’ve made the best decision for my son.
We’ve decided to take a trip to a small cabin resort in Oregon called Five Pine Lodge. We’ll take Charlie Tango out on Friday evening to avoid the long drive. Chance and Chuck will come with us to be on call since Jason was on call for the last trip. We won’t be doing much mingling anyway—we’ll probably only have one activity involving other people for the entire weekend, maybe one other dinner and a spa visit or something. Other than that, this time will be all about us and it’s only a couple of days to decompress as we have to come back and face the Pedophile in court that following Monday. I’m not looking forward to her trial, to dredging up all the shit that she put us through. My memories may be a little cloudy on some things, but when it comes down to her and the hell she caused, it’s as clear as a fucking bell!
I still recall the first day I met that monstrous woman. She had the nerve to show up at Christian’s apartment in that ridiculous outfit on a fucking Sunday morning! He was a full-on Dom at the time with no submissive qualities at the time. What the hell was she trying to prove? But when she later found out that he allowed me to dominate him and not her anymore, oh, she could have shit bricks. I thought she was going to give birth to a real live baby elephant right there on Grace’s lawn!
She’s been nothing but horror and pain since the day I learned of her existence. Her malfeasances are too many to list and she has the nerve to be using some sort of diminished capacity as a defense for having someone break into my apartment, steal my gun, and then try to kill the love of my life with it right before my very eyes.
And I have to go to court and recount this shit… as if living through David’s trial wasn’t enough.
It’ll be different this time, though. Whatever her attorney throws at me, I’m going to throw right back at his ass. I’ll make no apologies and I won’t censor what I say about that horrible, wretched woman. I don’t care how many times they object! I will only stop with the threat of being held in contempt of court, but everything I know about her will be put out on display. I know they’re going to try to suppress any discussion about her “other crimes,” but they’re not going to be able to, because they directly relate to this case.
I wonder how far Christian is going to go to make sure she gets a conviction?
“Elliot is sending his crew over today to start the en suite for the playroom… playpen, whatever we choose to call it,” Christian says as we’re on our way to Broadmoor. He’s driving the one of the Audi SUV’s and Ben and Chuck are following behind in one of the others. “Jason will supervise since—let’s face it, he knows everything that’s gone on in my life for nearly a decade.” I shrug.
“I never thought in a million years that I would be involved in an alternative sexual lifestyle, much less have a third party know about it and be comfortable with it,” I comment.
“We’re as discreet as we can be under the circumstances,” he says. He pauses for a minute. “Elliot said that he couldn’t oversee the renovations himself because he’s taking Valerie to the doctor today.” I turn to face him.
“What’s wrong with her?” I ask.
“He doesn’t know,” Christian says. “He wants to rule out pregnancy.” I look at him incredulously and count on my fingers.
“Since before my birthday?” I say in disbelief. “She’d know by now.” He shrugs.
“Hey, I don’t know. I just know that my brother is at the end of his rope. I’m certain that Valerie’s not seeing anybody else, but something’s wrong. Her social life is nil; he says her health is questionable; and now her job is in jeopardy. He had to give her an ultimatum to get her to go to the doctor, and he wouldn’t let her go alone because he doesn’t trust her to do it. If the general practitioner or the shrink can’t figure out what’s wrong with her, this relationship is over. I just thought you should know.”
And then she’ll have nobody. I don’t want that for her, but she won’t let me in. So I don’t know that there’s much that I can do about it.
“He’ll keep you posted?” I ask.
“So he says.” I sigh. I guess I’ll just wait.
“So about the bathroom—any idea how long it’ll take?” I change the subject.
“I told him it needs to be ready in two weeks before the furniture arrives. I figure it’ll be done while we’re away. That’s one of the reasons I decided to take Chuck and Williams with us this time, not to mention that Jason was pulling his hair out on the last trip. I had to give him a task with that asshole to keep him from losing his mind.”
“I hope the fellas have something to do this weekend because I plan to keep you to myself as much as possible,” I say.
“I like the sound of that, Mrs. Grey,” he says.
Ilene Claiborne is a bit friendlier with my husband than I like when we get to Broadmoor. She’s not overbearing or inappropriate. She just a little giddier than she should be. I have to remember that my husband’s presence is more commanding when you meet him in person—he’s a beautiful man with a beautiful body and a beautiful voice and he reeks of power and charm. Not a lot of women can withstand that even if they try. I feel a little sorry for her because his behavior of me is extremely possessive from the moment we walk into the club. He leads me around my cupping my elbow or the small of my back or by holding my hand. He sits very close to me, often with his arm on the back of my chair. His eyes are usually on documents, some focal point in the club, or me—very rarely on Ilene, and only when she’s speaking directly to him alone to not appear rude.
It’s no use; she still a puddle of goo, but she tries to camouflage it as much as possible. I have to give her credit for that and I dare not call her on it. It’s obvious that she’s doing the best that she can.
Her relief is palpable when we are joined by the couple that will be sponsoring us. Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy. We sit down to lunch to discuss the intricacies of country club membership and exactly what sponsorship means. Our standing as members won’t be diminished in any way; we just couldn’t join without sponsors since we weren’t residents of the community. Eugene and Josephine Kennedy will be our mentors, so to speak, which I plan to utilize, but if I know Christian, he’ll take those reins on for himself once we’re members.
Overall, the lunch goes very well and my initial impression of our sponsors is positive. Like us, they are a fairly young couple, with three children instead of two. Josephine and I have a brief discussion of the possible woes of a newborn as her youngest is eight months old. She sympathizes with me that I have two at once, but sings the praises of having a good nanny and staff. She admits to being more of a stay-at-home mom with a few other projects as well, but admits that she wouldn’t be able to juggle all of the tasks of being a wife and a mother to three small children without help.
I like her; she seems very genuine. It’s obvious from her conversation that she loves her husband and children very much and takes her role as wife and mother very seriously. She will not be besmirched for not working outside of the home or for needing help even though she stays at home. I don’t blame her. I don’t think stay-at-home mothers get enough credit for the work that they do to raise healthy, happy children and keep a stable home.
Eugene is a bank executive and mentioned knowing Ethan, and not liking his father very much. That immediately fared well with Christian as he doesn’t like Ethan’s father very much either. Eugene has good things to say about Ethan and his presence in the financial community, things that Christian apparently already knew, but he admits that it’s good to hear since Ethan will be marrying his little sister pretty soon. The gentlemen comment about it being a small world and make other small talk over lunch. Their connection was not as solid as mine and Josephine’s, but knowing my husband, I didn’t think it would be. In fact, it was about as good as can be expected.
We left the country club with our application intact, having paid our dues with Christian’s Amex Black. We are now the newest members of the Broadmoor Country Club. Although we have immediate access to the facilities, we’ll be notified of the next new member Meet-and-Greet.
Tuesday, I don’t want to wave the flag that I’m going to see Dr. Culley for my check-up and to get my IUD inserted, so I quietly sneak out of the house with just Chuck and leave a message with Gail that if His Highness asks where I am, tell him that I went shopping. It’s not a lie—I am going to get new lingerie for our trip and poor Chuck is going to have to stand by while I shop at Agent Provocateur. But first, the six-week check-up.
“Have you only been doing yoga?” Dr. Culley says when she sees me. I nod.
“Basic and some intermediate,” I tell her. “Nothing too strenuous. I was afraid.” She frowns.
“I don’t doubt you, it’s just…” She looks at my chart, flipping through the pages. “Ana, you’ve lost all but seven pounds of your baby weight, which is probably all milk. I think your stomach is smaller than it was before you got pregnant, unless it’s just disproportionate to your breasts and your hips.”
“That’s a definite possibility,” I tell her.
“Have you been dieting?” she asks. I shake my head.
“I’ve never been a huge eater, Dr. Culley, and you know throughout the pregnancy, I couldn’t eat beef. So it’s always been basically chicken and vegetables. I did as much as I could throughout my pregnancy to try to keep my body in shape and after the babies were born, I went straight to the belly belt and then to the essential oils and the belly binding. Not only that, I’ve got two breastfeeding babies, but let’s face it.” I point conspicuously at my stomach. “There were two people in there and they’re gone now!” Dr. Culley laughs.
“This is true. It’s just that it’s just extremely rare that I see women shrink as quickly as this without doing something unhealthy. I have to ask.”
“Well, run whatever tests you need, because the real exercising is going start as soon as you clear me. Christian likes my ass, but I feel a bit like a Kardashian.” She shakes her head.
“Trust me, you don’t look like that. Because of your small frame, I will concede that you need to tone a bit, but you look nothing like that.” She looks at my chart. “IUD?”
“No penetrative sex for the last six weeks?”
“No, and I’m losing my mind!” I admit. “It’s been more like two months. Remember, I couldn’t have sex after the babies dropped.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” she says, looking through my chart further. “The urine test was negative. Have you had a period?”
“No,” I reply. She nods.
“That’s to be expected with breastfeeding.” She checks some things off my chart.
“I have a question about that. Is it true that breastfeeding can be used as a form of birth control?” I ask.
“Continuous breastfeeding, yes. In laymen’s terms. The hormones being used to produce the egg are being used to produce milk, so you don’t ovulate. However, if for some reason, you don’t keep a steady regimen of breastfeeding and your body does ovulate…” She snaps her fingers to indicate that boom—you’re possibly pregnant.
“But why wouldn’t someone keep a steady regimen of breastfeeding?” I ask. “I mean, the baby has to be fed every day.”
“If the baby is being weaned or if the baby is drinking from breast and bottle; if the baby is moving to solid foods or her eating habits change for any other reason—she sleeps more as she gets older, so she’s not feeding as regularly; or if Mom goes on a trip or plans to ingest alcohol or medication, so she stops breastfeeding for a day or so.”
“That’s too many variables,” I say. “Do you know of any women who have ever used breastfeeding as a sole form of birth control?” She ponders the question.
“I’ve heard of women doing it and again, it you stay on top of it, it works. I wouldn’t trust it though.” I nod once.
“IUD for me, doc!” I say, lying down on the table. She laughs.
“Good. Let’s get started.”
“I’ve talked to Sophie every day,” Jason tells me. “She says that Shalane has been around, but still pretty much ignores her. I know she’s been served with the papers that I’m suing her for custody, so I don’t know if that has to do with her hanging around or what. I don’t know what the hell druggies do between binges.”
It’s been so long since I was with my crack-whore mother and I was so young, I couldn’t even shed any light on this subject for him.
“Well, as you know, surveillance reports say that Shalane has been primarily at the house. Either she’s detoxing, or unfortunately, she using there. Sophie’s had to see her—do they just not speak?” Jason shrugs.
“I’ll see if I can get any other information out of her. I think she doesn’t really want to talk about it.”
“It can’t be avoided,” I tell him. “There’s a custody battle ensuing.”
“I know,” he says, scratching his head. “I really don’t want to put her in the middle of it—you know, pit her against her mother, but right now she’s the only one who can tell me what Shalane is doing and she’s pretty mum.” I nod. “And the way she spoke to Shalane before she left… she’s never spoken to her that way. It was like Sophie was the adult and Shalane was the child.”
“I noticed that, too,” I say. “Shalane looked at her for a moment like they were standing off or something. Sophie hasn’t indicated anything is wrong when you speak to her?” He shakes his head.
“She sounds fine. Except for the fact that she and Shalane don’t really speak, which is nothing different, she’s the same old Sophie. She hasn’t missed any school and she calls me every day.” We’ve both confirmed through the security reports that over the course of the last week, Sophie has, in fact, attended school every day.
“Al says that you can request that she takes a drug test based on the suspicion.”
“Not if she detoxes before we get to court!” Jason says. “I should tell you that I’m doing a little experiment.”
“And that is?” I ask.
“I stopped paying child support.” I frown deeply.
“Jason, you can’t do that. That’ll fuck up your case, not to mention you can get arrested!” I warn.
“Keep your shirt on!” he says. “I can catch up in a day, you know that. Here’s the thing. We think Shalane is using. I don’t know that she has any other source of income, but even with that small fortune that I’m paying her, her cell phones are disconnected. If I’m not paying her, she’s got to be getting that money from somewhere. If she doesn’t, she’ll be knocking on this door again. If she’s using, she’ll be jonesing for a fix and I’m not beyond blackmail to get my daughter out of that situation.” I shake my head.
“I don’t know, Jason, that’s risky.”
“Yes, it is, but if I’m wrong, I’ll pay the money to the court and call it a day. If I’m not, at least I have a bargaining chip.” I shrug.
“If you think it’ll work…”
“I don’t know if it will or not, but at this point, I’m willing to try anything. The only thing keeping me from going over there and taking Sophie from that house is the fact that I talk to her every day. I’m scared to death that something’s going to happen to her, but I don’t have any proof that Shalane is using and without a court order, I can’t make her piss in a cup. So I’ll just have to play it by ear and see where it goes.”
“Well, you know you’ve got my support.” He nods.
“Thanks, Boss, I really need it right now.” There’s silence.
“How’s the en suite coming?” I ask. He nods.
“Like you said, it’ll probably be finished when you guys get back. Have you heard from your brother?”
“No,” I say. “So that means that either he’s somewhere moping or that he and Valerie have made up and he hasn’t come up for air.”
“Maybe you should call him,” Jason says. I shrug. After a beat, I pull out my phone and dial his number. He said he would call and keep me up to speed. That was Monday. It’s Friday now and I’m about to board Charlie Tango in an hour to take my wife out of town. I’ve heard nothing. As far as I’m concerned, no news is good news. His phone goes to voice mail.
“You’ve reached Elliot Grey of Grey Construction. Please leave me a message and I’ll get back to you as quickly as possible. Thanks.”
“Elliot, it’s Christian. Just calling to see if everything’s okay. Call me.” I end the call.
“No answer?” Jason asks. I shake my head.
“Nope. Maybe she is pregnant.” Jason rolls his eyes.
“I feel sorry for the kid if she is. She’s a real goddamn harpy.”
“Tell me about it,” I respond. Jason shakes his head, then says, “I never thought I’d see the day you became a father.”
“Me, either,” I tell him. “I never even imagined. Now those two little lives and… my wife…” I sigh and drop my head. “I can’t remember my life before them… before her. I can’t see what it was.” I look up at him. “Does that make any sense?” He shrugs.
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” he says. “I’m here to tell you that your life was pretty goddamn shitty before her… and you were a real fucking asshole. You’re an asshole now, but you were a real fucking asshole then.”
“And you never spoke to me that way before her,” I point out. He twists his lips.
“No, I didn’t,” he said, “but I never took a bullet for you before her either.” We’re silent for a moment again.
“Would you have taken a bullet for me before her?” I ask.
“No,” he says without pausing. A sharp pain goes through my chest and I have to push down immediate anger as I frown at him.
“What?” I ask incredulously.
“Before you met her, I was just your bodyguard. It was my job to protect you. I could have done that without taking that bullet, but you still might have gotten hit—maybe not fatally, but you would have gotten hit. I might’ve have taken a bullet for you as my employer, the guy who pays my paychecks, but last March, that’s not the guy I took the bullet for.”
“When I knew that gun was going to go off, I knew you were going to get hit. There was no doubt. You would not have been able to time the dodge fast enough—you were standing still. A moving target is harder to hit, so whichever one of us she hit, she most likely wasn’t going to get a kill shot… but I couldn’t stand there and let her shoot my friend. So although I may or may not have taken a shot for my employer, the answer is no, I wouldn’t have taken a shot for my friend before Ana, because before Ana, you weren’t my friend. But if it happened again, I’d do it again.”
I twist my lips, then bite my bottom lip to rein in my emotions a bit.
“Pussy,” I hiss, and Jason bursts out into laughter.
I have been waiting for this day all fucking week. The last time I’ve had any release was the Tenga Flip a week ago, but it’s still not the inside of my wife. Shit, if I’m honest, I’ve been waiting for this day for months! She put my mind at ease by telling me that she had her IUD inserted when she went in for her six-week check-up. That had to be Tuesday as I don’t remember her leaving the house any other time. However, I have to do my best to concentrate on everything that needs to be done—like flying Charlie Tango to Sisters, Oregon to our resort cabin—and on not fucking my wife like a goddamn rubber doll once I’m finally inside her.
She’s not making it easy for me, either. She loves these goddamn wraparound shirts and the one that she’s wearing today is a full wine shirt with slit sleeves and the damn thing plunges so deep that her tits are on full display. Luckily, she closes a leather jacket and scarf over it, but fuck—I know what’s under that thing. And what does she wear as bottoms? A pair of spandex and leather pants that grab her ass and wobble with every move. Did I mention the stilettos with heels so narrow I don’t know how she’s walking on them? Fuck a compass to get us to Oregon; my dick will point us in the right direction!
God help me.
We leave from the roof of Escala to avoid any unwanted publicity. The word is going to be out soon that the Pedophile’s trial is Monday, so I don’t doubt we’ll have to deal with that stigma soon. We’ve gone unscathed for the entire week, so we count it a true blessing that we were able to get out of Seattle without incident.
An hour later, we land at Roberts Airport in Redmond and house Charlie Tango in a rented bay there for the next two days. After retrieving a Suburban SUV from Enterprise, we’re on our way down the 126 to Sisters, Oregon and Five Pine Lodge. I can’t keep my hands off of her for the thirty minutes it takes for us to get to the resort. I have no idea how I’m going to be able to contain myself through the evening.
Once we check in, we are given the keys to the Romance Cabin which is all the way in the back of the resort, purposely placed for privacy. Butterfly walks around the cozy space while I pull Chuck aside in the cabin’s entry area.
“Just giving you fair warning,” I tell him. “You or Williams may be on food duty once we’re locked down, but for now, we have reservations at Latigo in an hour. We won’t be late because the sooner we leave, the sooner we get back.” Chuck smiles knowingly and shakes his head.
“Duly noted,” he says, leaving the cabin and closing the door behind him. I walk over to my wife and put my arms around her waist from behind.
“How do you like it?” I ask.
“It’s very nice,” she says. There’s a king sized bed to the right of us and a sitting area with two chairs facing a fireplace to the left of us. Next to the fireplace is a sunken tub for two with jets surrounded by rustic rocks, one of which shoots water into the tub like a fountain. Yeah, we’ll sure as hell be using that. The full bathroom is off the bedroom with a full wall vanity and shower. I move my hands from my wife’s tiny waist up to her ample breasts.
“No kids for two days,” I say, placing open-mouthed kisses on her neck. “Will you be okay?”
“I’ll be anxious every now and again,” she admits, “but I’m looking forward to this time alone with my husband.”
“These will be very full,” I warn.
“I know,” she says.
“We’ll manage,” I whisper. She turns her face to me over her shoulder and I kiss her solidly. She puts her hands over mine and squeezes her own breasts with my hands. I groan in her mouth.
“God, you are so hot,” I say against her lips.
“You make me that way,” she breathes. I move my hand down to her spandex clad ass and squeeze before grinding into her, kissing her deeply once more.
“We have dinner reservations,” I tell her. “We need to go so that we can get back.” She sighs deeply.
“Okay,” she breathes, cupping my face and kissing me again before she breaks away from me. She grabs a duffle bag, her overnight case, and a garment bag and goes to the en suite. I fall backwards on the bed and commence to talking down this painful boner. Just as I do, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to find a text from Elliot.
**I’m alive, Bro. We’ll talk later. Enjoy your vacay. **
Forty minutes later, I’m comfortable in a pair of black wool slacks and a charcoal gray cashmere sweater and just as I’m about to check my wife’s progress, she emerges in a simple black turtleneck sweater dress with a thin belt double-looped at the hip and a pair of platform black stiletto boots garnished with gold buckles across the foot, the back of the leg and the heel. The ensemble is so simple, yet her curves make her look so hot. Her hair is in that swooping, messy bun and she’s wearing soft make-up and nude lip-gloss.
“I’m sorry I took so long,” she says. “I needed to pump.” I take her hand.
“Don’t apologize. You look beautiful.”
“You’re biased,” she says. I take her in my arms.
“I am,” I say, brushing my lips against her cheek, “and you’re still beautiful.” I plant a soft kiss on her cheek and there’s a knock at the door, no doubt Chuck signaling us that it’s time for dinner. “Shall we?” She smiles.
“We shall.” I hold her coat open and help her into it before slipping into mine and we leave for the restaurant.
This little area of the world prides itself on the “quaint,” and Latigo is no exception. Most likely considered one of the high end restaurants of the area, but quaint nonetheless with a cozy and inviting atmosphere. We’re seated immediately as the establishment is less than a mile away from the lodge and we are right on time for our reservation. We’re seated across from each other. However, we forgo decorum and I move my seat so that I can sit directly to her left, allowing me to hold her hand, gaze into her eyes, and whisper sweetly in her ear. Her soft giggle is my reward and we have captured the attention of more than one patron in the restaurant.
“People are staring,” she says softly.
“Let them stare,” I say, kissing her hand gently. “We’re doing nothing inappropriate. I’m simply admiring my beautiful wife.” Our server comes over to the table and kindly asks what we would like to start.
“Well,” I say, “my beautiful wife recently gave birth to twins and this is our first night out in over a month. So, she can have whatever she wants.” The petite blonde raises her eyes to Butterfly.
“Congratulations,” she says. “Can I interest you in some champagne?”
“I would really love a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon if you have it,” Butterfly says, wistfully.
“We do,” the server says with a smile.
“What vintage?” I ask.
“2012 Hogue Reserve,” she says and I frown. Toilet water. Catching my expression, Butterfly says,
“It’s fine… it’s Cabernet.” She desperately wants a glass. I’m certain we can do better than that. They have to have something from the Valley.
“What other vintages do you have?” I probe. “Anything from Brandlin? Cade? Stag’s?”
“We do have Stag’s,” she stops me. “Also 2012, I think.”
“If you have the Stag’s, we’ll take the bottle.” She smiles.
“I’ll check,” she says and moves off from the table.
“I won’t be able to drink an entire bottle of Cabernet, Christian,” Butterfly says with a coy smile.
“I’ll help, but you can only buy Stag’s by the bottle.” Her mouth forms an “O” and she nods.
“Is this another $1500 bottle of wine?” she giggles. I smile.
“You remember,” I say kissing her hand.
“It’s kind of hard to forget.”
“No, it’s not, but it is about $200. The stuff she wanted to give you before was about $6 a bottle.” She makes a face.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” she says.
Moments later, our server returns with another woman and a 2012 bottle of Stag’s Leap District Napa Valley Cask 23 Cabernet Sauvignon.
“Hello,” the woman says. “I’m Sucy, one of the owners here and I wanted to personally welcome you to Latigo. Sharon tells me that this is your first night out since the birth of your twins.”
“Yes,” Butterfly says sweetly. “We’ve been looking forward to it for weeks.”
“I certainly understand,” she says. “I have two sets of twins.” Butterfly’s eyes grow large.
“You’re kidding!” she whispers. Sucy gestures demurely to Sharon to show me the bottle of wine while she engages Butterfly in conversation. I examine the vintage and nod, gesturing for her to serve my wife. Sucy continues that her twins are 12 and 4, causing Butterfly to gasp.
“Two sets… yikes.”
“If I may say, you look fantastic. How old are your twins?”
“Six weeks.” Sucy’s eyes grow large.
“Really?” she says. Butterfly nods. “Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up. You look great.” Butterfly smiles and takes the glass with the small amount of wine in it. After swirling it around the glass a bit, she takes a sip. Closing her eyes, she sighs appreciatively.
“That’s divine,” she breathes. Sucy smiles.
“I’m so glad you’re pleased. Sharon will get you anything you need and be sure to let me know if I can be of any further assistance to you. Again, my congratulations to you both.”
“Thank you,” I say sincerely. She nods once and leaves the table. No doubt, it’s customary to greet the patrons personally who order a $200 bottle of wine… and it’s good business.
“Sir?” Sharon gestures to me with the bottle after she has poured Butterfly’s glass.
“Please, thank you.” She pours the adequate amount and sets the bottle on the table.
“What can I get for you to eat?” she says with a warm smile.
Butterfly and I feast on Dungeness crab cakes with lemon saffron aioli; soup du jour—which happened to be salmon chowder that day; salads with chopped artisan lettuces, shallots, feta, roasted macadamia nuts, apples, radish, and a creamy pinot noir vinaigrette; filet mignon with wild mushroom and port butter sauce, gratin dauphinoise, green beans and heirloom tomatoes; banana fritters with gelato; white chocolate & cherry terrine; and salted caramel. Although we are anxious to taste of each other, we savor our meal, feeding each other off of our plates and enjoying the wine and the attention given to us by the staff. The experience was well worth the visit and the money and once we have had our fill, I’m sure to thank the chef—who happens to be Sucy’s husband—and to leave a generous tip.
Thank God the resort is less than a mile away, because I can barely wait to get my hands on this woman. I tell Chuck to be prepared to get breakfast for us in the morning, but that I may want to go to the gym in the afternoon before I dismiss him and Williams for the evening. When I turn around, Butterfly has already disappeared into the en suite again.
“Butterfly, are you okay?” I call through the door.
“I’m fine, Baby. I’ll be out in just a minute,” she says sweetly. She sounds okay, so I proceed to get undressed. I take off my sweater and T-shirt and sit down to remove my shoes and socks. Just as I get my socks off, I hear the bathroom door open. When she said she would only be a minute, she meant that she would only be a minute… but I have no idea how she did this in a minute…
“Oh. My. God.”
Agent Provocateur has never looked so good. She’s wearing this beautiful black kimono with lace trim, falling demurely over her curves like you wouldn’t believe. No Butterfly ensemble would be complete without the Louboutin platform stilettos—black patent leather with red bottoms, of course. She’s wearing red thigh high stockings that tie the red bottoms of the shoes to the robe. Thank God I’m sitting down. My knees might buckle beneath me if I weren’t.
“Come here,” I breathe. She walks shyly over to me. She’s so beautiful, I don’t know where to start. Maybe I should start by unwrapping my gift. I pull the sash on the robe only to discover that there’s another prize underneath.
“Fuck…” I breathe. She’s trying to kill me.
The red stockings were not to compliment the red bottoms. Underneath the black kimono is a short, red slip of a nighty that fits her like a second skin. God, she is so sexy. Standing there in front of me, her eyes locked with mine, she pushes the kimono off her shoulders and lets it fall to the floor.
“You are exquisite.” I whisper. Starting from her calves, I rub both hands up the back of her legs—slowly, savoring the feeling of her skin clad in fine silk stockings with back seams against the palm of my hands. My breath catches and she shivers. As I get to the top of the stockings and the bare skin of her thigh, I stand so that my journey doesn’t end. I cup her ass, caressing it softly under the short slip, thrilled to discover that she’s not wearing any underwear… not even a thong. I linger there for a moment before moving my hands over the silk of the nighty to caress her body—her hips, her back, her stomach, and her breasts. Her breathing quickens and I have to fight every urge inside of me to just take her now. I want to… I know she’ll be tight, but if I don’t prepare her, she’ll be too tight, and I might hurt her. It’s been too long.
“Undress me,” I say. There’s nothing left but my pants and boxer briefs, but I want her to remove them. Dexterously, she undoes my belt and the button of my pants. She unzips them, but doesn’t allow them to just fall to the floor. She pushes her hands into my pants, cupping my ass and very slowly, pushes them down my legs, just as slowly as I traveled up hers a moment ago. I almost can’t breathe as she squats at the same speed that she removes my slacks until she’s nearly on the floor in front of me. Looking salaciously at my crotch, she grasps my boxer briefs at the waistband and just as slowly—if not slower—drags them down and off my legs. I swallow hard as my erection springs free. She kisses up my legs, alternating from one to the other—open-mouthed… three kisses on this one, then three on that one, then one on this one, two on that one… Fuck, she’s driving me mad! When she gets to my dick, she continues the kisses… all the way up to the head until I groan in agony.
Her trail continues up my stomach, my torso, my chest, until she’s standing before me again—big, sexy, fuck-me blue orbs staring at me while I’m trying to catch my breath and rein in my libido.
“We’ll leave these on!” I say of her lingerie and shoes, my voice raspy, my soul starving for her. I grab her by the ass and press her hard against me, bruising her lips with hungry kisses. She moans into my mouth and thrusts her hands into my hair, so ready for me to take her—but not yet. I’ll hurt you; I know I will. My dick is pulsing so hard in anticipation that I know I’ll rip that poor little pussy to shreds! I lift her by her ass and lay her down, her head near the foot of the bed, and I start to travel down her body with my lips and tongue. She squirms impatiently, moaning in protest that I won’t just take her. I suck her already taut nipple into my mouth and she cries out.
“Christian, please!” she begs. Not yet, love. Patience.
I suck and bite her other nipple and her tortured sounds imitate sobs. Her body starts to tremble almost immediately and I’m nearly set off by her responsiveness.
“Oh, God, Christian!” she cries as I move down her torso, pushing her slip up her body so that I can taste the rest of her skin. She’s too impatient. She can’t wait. Her first one will be quick. I bring my mouth down to her pelvic line and kiss and lick the tender skin there. The smell of her arousal assaults my senses and ignites that uncontrollable blazing fire inside me.
“Baby, I’m trying to take my time, but I want to devour you!” I roll her over on top of me so that I’m on my back and her pussy falls in my face. I slowly and gently begin to tantalize that clit. Once she gets over the surprise, she starts to grind my face. I’m rubbing her back and her ass, lapping her juices as they slide into my mouth and suddenly, she realizes where she is and clamps hungrily down on my aching dick.
“Aw, fuck!” I groan into her pussy. She’s on a goddamn mission. She either wants to make me want her or make me come before she does. I wrap my arms around her body and hug her close to me. Opening my legs, I fuck her mouth deeply—her hot, insatiable mouth. She wraps her arms around my thighs, grasping one thigh firmly with one hand and caressing my balls with the other. I groan again, deep and hard into her pussy and she meets me with an answering moan, grinding her hips and riding my tongue. She tastes fucking divine. I watch her luscious ass roll as her vaginal lips swell against my mouth and her clit pulses against my tongue.
Fuck, this feels so good. This looks so good and tastes so good. We’re primal—fucking and making love to each other’s mouths at the same time. I lose myself in her for a moment… in how fucking fabulous this feels and my wife’s incomparable oral skills. I hold her hard against my body and tongue that pussy like I’m probing my wife’s hungry mouth, pressing her shoulders against my hips to get deeper penetration into her mouth. She meets my challenge, fucking me with deep, hard sucks and strokes of her jaws and tongue until I groan into her pussy once more. I reach up and squeeze her ass firmly with both hands, pressing her deep against my mouth and lapping her with my tongue until she moans hard against my dick causing a violent vibration to reverberate through my legs and tingle in my toes. I’m lost in the immeasurable pleasure before I come back to myself and realize that I don’t intend to come this way. It’s agonizing and heartbreaking to have to halt her infallible effort to tantalize me to a magnificent and impeccable orgasm, but I have to concentrate—hard! Really hard!
With my arms wrapped around her luscious hips and her juicy ass, I use my fingers to part her lips from behind and open her pussy to lavish concentrated flicks on that delicate clit. Her core gets wetter right before my eyes as I hold her hostage against my mouth, concentrating my efforts on massaging her clit around and around and around. She tries to move away from me, to give the sensitive bundle of nerves a slight bit of respite, but I have her locked in place. She can only rock her hips forward against my unforgiving tongue. She groans against my dick again, but I’m transfixed on her clit now and able to refocus some of the attention away from my throbbing, burning rod and the pleasure she’s bringing me. She tries to keep her rhythm, tries to maintain control, but I can feel her falter as her clit begins to throb harder in my mouth.
That’s it, baby. You know you want to give it to me.
Since my mouth has her fully exposed and open to me, I move my hand to her ass and open those cheeks, allowing me to play with that lovely little rosette. She withstands the pleasure as long as she can before she starts to tremble and moan, then clamps harder down on my dick.
Oh, God, this is a motherfucking battle! She’s groans on my erection again and this time, the vibration sends shivers through my whole goddamn body. Fucking hell, I’m not going to make it! Time to bring out the heavy artillery.
I move my left arm around her waist, clamping her to my body and keeping her immobilized. While still relentlessly licking that clit, I bring my right arm up between her legs so that her left leg is now bent and pinned under my arm. Now, not only is her pussy wide open, but so is her ass and her rosette is fully exposed to me, I suckle that tender clit masterfully, tickling the rosette and occasionally sticking just the tip of my finger inside to make it sensitive and heighten her pleasure. Once she starts to pant and her breathing becomes erratic, I know that she’s rising. I know that I can stick my finger in her ass and have her exploding madly, but I decide to do something to blow her mind instead.
With the pads of all four fingers on my right hand, I pop that rosette directly, hard and fast.
She gasps and freezes her assault, trembling wildly. Although she’s still clamped down on my dick, she can’t move. Her body is dead weight on mine and she’s trying to process what she just felt. Before she has the chance, I pop her again. She wails hard in her throat on my dick, her clit throbbing madly in my mouth and her thighs trembling ferociously.
Victory is mine!
I pop her again… and again… and again… and again.
She yelps with every smack, involuntarily jumping at the sensation before she abandons her prior task completely, pushing her body up and away from mine and crying out in unfettered passion.
Yes, baby! I’ve got you now! Resistance is futile!
I pop her again… and again… and again… and again…
She arches her back forward and cranes her neck like a wolf howling to the moon, screeching a soul-felt painful cry from her stomach. Her whole body stiffens for several moments at first and then she’s writhing, crying out and trying to get away from the torment of my mouth. I clamp my arms down onto her body and suck deep, pulling that orgasm out of her and allowing her juices to saturate and coat her inner walls so that she’s ready for me when I slide into her, because I’m sure as fuck ready for her…
Dammit! I thought sure I would make him erupt before he made me come, especially when he started pumping in my mouth and getting so hard. It was so erotic that I couldn’t stand it anymore. I would have been panting and coming even if he weren’t licking my clit so exquisitely.
But that shit he did with my asshole… fuck! Fucking hell! Never in my life! Goddammit! I can’t see! I can’t think! Motherfuckinghell!
I’m still gasping for air and my pussy is still pulsing in pain and pleasure as he moves with speed and agility, situating me face down on the bed and shoving a pillow under my pelvis so my ass is up in the air. Seconds later, he has pushed my legs apart and has thrust himself inside of me. I cry out at the glorious intrusion, breaching my aching but hungry walls, so long left unoccupied.
“Fffffffffffuck!” he hisses deeply as he buries himself in me, swaying from side to side so that his dick hits every wall of my core. He’s hard as a rock and big as a goddamn watermelon! “You’re so fucking wet!” Well, yeah, I just came! Using my hips for leverage, he begins a grind—not too fast and not too slow, but I can feel his hips roll. I imagine him watching his swollen veiny dick sliding around my ass and in and out of my core, pink and purple with his barely contained arousal, wet and shiny—coated with the evidence of mine.
“Oh, fuck, baby!” he groans animalistically, his hips rolling more sensually, his dick hitting all the right places and causing me to rise again.
“Ah… Christian!” I cry when his grind starts to burn—so quickly after my first orgasm! I don’t stand a fucking chance! He feels so good! It’s been so goddamn long…
“Yes, baby!” he growls, his weight holding me down so that I can’t move, and he pushes me with purpose. “Oh, fuck, yes, baby!” The restraint and the probing, both are pushing me quickly to a second release. I grab the sheets with both hands and try to resist, but my body is screaming and won’t be denied.
“Aw, shit!” he hisses, and I hear the wetness from my juices as he slides in and out of me. Combined with the friction, his masterful stroke, and him holding me down so that I can’t move, I detonate in a hot, fiery, pulsing, wet orgasm around him, clinging to the sheets and crying out like a wounded animal.
“Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fucking hell!” he growls through gritted teeth, then stills, pulsing hard against my inner walls. He holds the position for several moments, emptying hard inside of me. When he’s done, he collapses on my back and we both lay there, trying to catch our breath, but his erection doesn’t wane. I’m sweating and my body is on fire! The explosions he made me feel were astronomical and my brain is having a hard time focusing. Once he has caught his breath, he drapes my hair over the bed and away from my neck, then covers my back with sweet, sensual kisses. We’ve been affectionate during our wait, but we’ve both been anticipating this coupling for far too long.
Fuck, his dick! His dick feels so good. I’ve missed it inside of me so much. I can still feel my muscles clenching and my walls tightening around him. My body shivers involuntarily and my breath comes in short as I try to control the contractions. His lips move to my neck and then my earlobe and I whimper with sensual longing. The sound shoots straight to his shaft and I feel him rising and thumping again inside of me. Oh, God, can I take this again? He tangles his fingers in mine and pushes my legs further open with his knees. He’s going to test that theory.
“Christian… no…” I whimper, no fight left in me. Part of me wants his dick in me so badly. The other part isn’t sure that I can take anymore right now.
“Yes, baby,” he whispers as he slowly begins to move, gently thrusting into me again and again. “Can’t you feel that?” he breathes directly in my ear. “Your body is still restless. You’re still clamping around me, making me hard. You did this to me. You still want me… still need me as much as I need you. You’ve got another one, baby. You’ve got to give it to me.”
Oh, God, he’s going to kill me. He’s so goddamn hot. I just want him to fuck me and hold me and talk to me and love me. I close my eyes and raise up, leaning back into his body. He turns his face into my neck and thrusts deeper. At first, I’m a little tender. Two massive orgasms will do that to you. After just a little while, a few minutes maybe, the slow burn starts again. I start to sweat immediately.
“My God, you are so sexy,” he groans, clasping my hands tighter and using them for leverage to grind deeper into me. “This red… this red is driving me fucking crazy!” I raise my head in hopes to get some more air.
“So good,” I pant, “so good…”
“Sssssssssssss, fuck!” he hisses. He moves like lightening and scoops me up in his arms, never releasing my hands and his dick never leaving my body. Somehow, we end up on our knees, him sitting on his feet and me sitting on his lap. Both our arms are wrapped around my body and his fingers are still entwined with mine. He’s holding me powerfully and possessively against him, drilling up and into me and claiming what belongs to him. I moan and keen shamelessly with each stroke, my hair falling over my face like a mask. Again, I am unable to move and must absorb every thrust, every kiss, every bite, and every tortured moan from my husband.
I swear I’m levitating… floating in a state of carnal bliss where my husband and lover has me protectively cocooned in a sphere of never-ending pleasure and bliss. His arms around me, his sensual moans in my ear, his passionate kisses and bites on my neck and shoulders, his helpless declarations of love and ecstasy—I’m helpless, totally at his mercy and completely at risk of being shattered into a million pieces when this extraterrestrial ride ends.
I have spent quite some time in immeasurable pleasure, rising so wildly and so intensely that my body breaks into the most unladylike, uncontrollable sweat. My throat hurts from several minutes of involuntary moaning and I’m exhausted from the unrestrained ecstasy that my husband has inflicted upon me. My hair is drenched and sticking to my face and body as is Christian’s and I am reduced to quiet panting and keening. The nightie that I was wearing has somehow been removed and tossed to the four winds somewhere and I’m still on his lap in my thigh-highs and stilettos. I don’t know how this has happened as I don’t remember him releasing me from his possessive embrace, and he continues to drive into me—deeply, steadily, deliciously. After an eternity of nearly unbearable pleasure and passion, the fire, friction, and stimulation begin to culminate into that familiar pull in my thighs and stomach that signal the beginning of a massive orgasm.
“Christian,” I whine, almost afraid of what this one will do to me. He doesn’t stop. His stroke becomes more earnest and he begins to grunt and groan primally in my ear in response to my tightening core, rising a little higher with each thrust to ensure maximum penetration on his upstroke as he holds my body tighter against his.
“Oh, God!” I lament as the sensation rises through my thighs and travels simultaneously from my stomach down to my pelvis. My body knows him, responds to his movements and his earnest. He rises even higher up on his knees, taking me with him and thrusting harder and deeper into me, pulling the two sensations together at my core until…
“Aaaaaaaaaaahaaaaaaahaaaaaaaahhaaaaaaaaa!” I’m trembling and crying, unable to hold anything together anymore as I cry out through the orgasm of the century. Christian’s hips don’t stop as I pant, wheeze, and suffer through an eternity of torture, pleasure, pain, passion, and tears. After what feels like forever, he groans loudly, holding me hard against him, stilling at first as he empties into me, then pumping deeply twice to complete his climax. He lays his head forward on my shoulder, never releasing me from his captive grasp, breathing heavily as he comes down from his climax. I lay my head back on his shoulder, weeping and panting helplessly in the aftermath of mine.
He’s shivering violently, holding me so tight in his arms that my body shakes with his shivers. I’m still weeping, wrung from my orgasms as he coughs air into his lungs. I don’t get it. We’ve gone without sex before and it was good when we came back together, but not like this. Never like this! Our bodies completely shattered, we fall over onto the bed as one. Christian’s arms are still clenched around me and he’s still inside of me. He’s still trembling and I’m still crying. Our bodies are fit together like a puzzle and as I continue to weep, his trembling begins to subside and he’s kissing me on my neck, shoulders, ears and back. That’s what I remember as I drift off to sleep.
I awake sometime during the night, still wrapped in Christian Grey—his legs now wrapped around mine. I’m a bit disoriented because we’re not in our own bed. However, an involuntary shuddering breath brings recognition back to me while simultaneously causing Christian to stir. He pulls me closer to him and tightens his grip on me, clasping tighter to my hands and kissing my back in his sleep. It’s like an instant tranquilizer dart and I’m gone again.
A/N: Useless information—their pediatrician’s name is pronounced Nah-hah-BEE-dee-an. That was my son’s pediatrician 28 years ago; I just felt the need for honorable mention.
Creative license used in this chapter as Latigo wasn’t open yet at the time that Christian and Ana visited Sisters, OR.
FYI, this may be TMI, but I’m sharing anyway. That last move with 69 that had Anastasia screaming, my husband did that to me! Y’all should really try that shit!
This is only part one of the hot sex, by the way. Remember, there’s a whole weekend going on, here.
Pictures of places, cars, fashion, etc., can be found at https://www.pinterest.com/ladeeceo/becoming-dr-grey/
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Love and handcuffs