Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“Dinner will get cold if we don’t eat soon,” I say to them. “Little sis won’t be happy if we feed her cold food.”
Kaitlyn finds this amusing and giggles.
Dinner is a playful affair as per usual. Kaitlyn regales us with her summertime adventures outside. Her daddy tells her interesting stories about work that leave both me and Kaitlyn on the edge of our seats, rapt with attention. Within a few months, we’ll add another to the mix. I try to imagine holding my infant in my arms.
If only I could remember what it felt like to hold Kaitlyn.
I’d brought it up once, and I’d been met by my husband’s disappointment. He even took me in to see the doctor.
And then…
Well, I don’t remember what exactly happened, but I know it was something I shouldn’t bring up again.
I don’t like seeing disappointment on his handsome face.
I prefer to see pleasure at what a good wife and mother I am.
After dinner, we all clean the kitchen together and then eat the pineapple upside down cake I’d made earlier. They both praise me for my efforts and by the end of dessert, I’m beaming with pride.
Each day, our routine is essentially the same. I take care of bath time for Kaitlyn and then her daddy reads her several bedtime stories. And when she finally goes to sleep, it’s when I get to spend time with him, having him all to myself.
“I need you,” I tell him as soon as our bedroom door is closed. “I’ve missed you.”
His eyes turn feral as I strip out of my summer dress. Sometimes I feel fat, but he never sees me that way. It’s as if my carrying his child turns him on. I glance down at his chinos and note that his cock is bulging against the material.
I unhook my bra, toss it away, and then push down my underwear. He watches me like a lion watches a gazelle, eager to pounce. Since my belly is getting bigger, I have to gently lower myself onto the bed. I stretch out, waiting for him to come to me.
He wastes no time pulling off his sea-foam-colored Polo. I one time got confused when I didn’t see his tattoos. Another disappointing look.
My husband doesn’t have tattoos. He has an incredible amount of chest hair and a cute, rounded stomach. I like to tease him it’s from all my good cooking. He doesn’t argue.
He undoes his belt, unfastens his pants, and then pushes them down. His tight brief underwear shows the evidence of his arousal. Then he pushes that down as well. His cock bobs in front of him, nestled in a bush of overgrown hair.
Has it always been so…unkempt?
He’s a hairy man, so it’s inevitable, I suppose.
I pull him to me, wanting him to kiss me. My head is starting to throb and thoughts I don’t like are teasing the edges of my mind. His lips quickly make me forget.
“I’ve wanted to do this all damn day,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Ready for my big dick, Romy?”
He pokes at my entrance. It’s always rough at first. I think pregnancy makes me dry. Sometimes I bleed and cry until a few strokes begin to lubricate his cock. Then it’s okay.
“Hey,” he says, not entering me just yet. “I asked you a question.”
“Yes,” I murmur quickly. “I’m ready.”
It’s not big like he says. In fact, it often feels like it’s not enough. Like I’m not full like I ought to be. Something is missing. Again, I don’t dare say that to him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.
Sharp pain burns my insides as he pushes his cock inside me. Once he gets all five inches inside me, I can breathe again.
“You’re so tight,” he growls. “My cock is so big, I know it hurts, but you like it, don’t you?”
I like when he talks dirty. It reminds me of… I don’t know what. I just like it.
“I love it,” I purr. “Kiss me.”
He kisses me while rutting against me. My mind drifts to a recurring dream I have. I’m in a hotel room with a dark, mysterious man. He ravishes me with desperation. His cock is enormous.
Pleasure builds in my core.
Whenever I think of this fantasy or dream or whatever it is, I’m turned on. I think of the man’s mouth between my thighs.
A quiver of need ripples through me.
“That’s it, love,” he rasps against my mouth. “Come all over my fat cock.”
He always speaks of my coming, but the only time I’ve been able to come is with my fingers in the shower. It’s a filthy secret of mine. Once, I tried to touch my clit during sex and he was crushed, even shed tears about how emasculating that was.
I’ve faked it ever since.
I don’t want to hurt him.