Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 22647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Which only made her laugh harder.
I felt my balls tighten up, and I knew I wasn’t going to last.
Not this time. Maybe next time. Or possibly the next.
This time, though, was a no go.
Sitting back, I pulled all the way out before thrusting back in hard. She gasped in surprise, but I didn’t let that stop me.
Repeating the process, I withdrew my dick until it was just kissing the inside of her heat before thrusting forward once more.
I felt come boil in my balls, and knew it wouldn’t be much longer.
With every single bit of strength I had left, I pulled out, and immediately replaced my cock with three fingers, thrusting them inside of her hard and curling up, eliciting a surprised groan from her lips.
When she threw her head back, I bent down and latched onto her nipple, pulling and sucking hard while I worked her with my fingers.
My raging cock rested against the crease of her panty line, raging like an angry monster, wanting nothing more than to get back inside of her.
“Hurry,” I pleaded, letting go of her nipple only long enough to get those words out before I latched back on, curling my tongue around the peak.
With two more thrusts and a curl of my fingers, she came hard, clamping down on my fingers. Hard.
With a low groan, I lost the battle with my own release and spurted hot come onto her leg and pussy.
My abs tightened with each spurt, demanding the closure of my eyes as I threw my head back and relished in the feeling of my wife’s pussy still fastened down hard on my fingers.
As the aftershocks coursed through her body, I reluctantly withdrew my fingers, then lifted them up to my mouth where I proceeded to lick each and every one clean, all the while her eyes stayed locked on the sight.
“That was a different dance than what I’d had in mind,” I said lightly.
She grinned.
“You’re naughty,” she finally said, shaking her head.
“You wouldn’t take me any other way,” I teased as I backed away, helping her down off the counter.
“Now,” I said giving her ass a smack. “Get dressed so we can go decorate our tree.”
She looked at me wide eyed before walking out into the living room naked, taking in all that I’d done while she slept.
She turned to me once she was done, and then ran into my arms.
She hit me like a tiny battering ram, making me take a single step back before I caught my balance.
“Thank you, Ellie-bellie,” she cooed.
I smacked her ass again, a little bit harder this time. “That’s not my name.”
She kissed my cheek, then retreated so she could look into my eyes. “Elles Belles?”
I shook my head.
“Snookums?” She tried.
I looked at her warningly.
“Peaches. Sugar bunch?” She offered.
I smiled and leaned down. “You can call me E, or Elliott. Possibly Master. Nothing else, though.”
She giggled. “You’re such a goober.”
Chapter 8
How come when your wife is pregnant, everyone rubs her belly and says, “Congratulations;” yet no one rubs your balls and says, “Good job?”
-E-card
Blaine
Christmas number 5
I stared at the little stick, my heart in my throat.
Pregnant.
I didn’t know if I could handle it.
It’d been eight months, and five days since I had my miscarriage.
Eight months and five long days.
Something inside me died when I lost our child. Something that Elliott had tried his hardest to replace day after day.
He hadn’t fully succeeded. The months since it happened had been torture.
Especially watching one of my best friends have two of the most adorable babies in the universe.
Cheyenne was a wonderful person. She and Sam deserved to have healthy children. That didn’t make it any easier on me, though. Every time I saw her two babies, I thought about my own that I’d lost. The way Elliott had watched those two girls with such longing made my heart nearly tear in two.
That night had been horrible. So horrible.
I’d woken up during the middle of the night with cramping and pain in my lower abdomen.
I hadn’t realized until I’d gotten to the bathroom just what was going on.
Blood had been everywhere, and I looked like a massacre victim.
Elliott had been on a job with a few of the other men, so I’d written a note and drove myself to the hospital, praying that everything would be all right. In my heart, I’d known that it wouldn’t be. Not with that much blood.
I’d gotten to the hospital where the doctor performed an ultrasound, confirming my fears.
Our baby had died.
From there, I’d been taken into surgery to have a D&C.
I’d woken up to a distraught Elliott at my bedside, his head bent over my hand while he spoke to me about why he loved me.
We never told any of the others.
I hadn’t wanted them to look at me any differently.
They never even knew I was pregnant, either. I’d been waiting until we knew the sex of our child so I could reveal it all at once, and I never got the chance.
Staring down at the stick that confirmed I was pregnant again, I prayed that this one would be okay.
Don’t do this to me again. I can’t handle it. Elliott doesn’t deserve to have to go through this twice.
We hadn’t been trying to have a baby. In fact, we were actively trying not to have a baby. I’d been on birth control, and he’d been using condoms since my miscarriage. How could this have happened? I wasn’t ready.
“Blaine, baby, where are you?” Elliott called from the living room.
Picking up the stick with shaking hands, I left the bathroom in search of my husband. I found him in the kitchen with his head stuck into the fridge.
“Hey,” I said softly.
“I know we’re having dinner with our parents in an hour, but I’m fuckin’ starving. I need something. Do you think some Ramen Noodles will be too…what’s wrong?” He asked in alarm when he finally looked at me.
I smiled tightly at him and held up the stick.
He looked at it as if I was holding a stick of dynamite, too scared to hope.