Chapter 5
My wife is on the thinner side. It suits her well. She’s got a small frame, maybe five foot two, but her hips are quite wide with a gap between her thighs. She doesn’t look sickly thin. She looks just right.
From the amount of food she consumed during breakfast, which is very little, I don’t think she works hard to keep her body thin.
I think it might be genes. Her mother, in her late sixties, wore an outfit from one of Blake’s collections and got approached by a soap maker for a commercial gig. The looks run in the family.
I wonder how that went. Maybe I’ll find out later, but now I’m too busy seething at my wife for what transpired while she lived in my (our) house alone.
Back in the kitchen, I throw the laptop on the table and corner her at the counter.
I’m mad at her. I am. Images of her kissing a man that’s not me assault my brain, and I grab her by her hips and lift her on the counter.
Princess throws her arms over my shoulders.
I grab her chin. Not too hard because I’m not going to hurt my wife, but only enough to make her pay attention.
“I have given you freedoms that I’ll be taking back,” I say.
Her expression becomes alarmed. “What do you mean?”
“You are under the impression you’re single and can do whatever you want. You are not and will never be again. What you are, Benedetta, is my wife, and my wife doesn’t have men I don’t know inside my house unless the house is on fire and the men are fighting the fire.”
She smiles. “Firefighters are kind of hot. What do you do, then?”
“Let it burn.”
Her eyes ping-pong between my mouth and my eyes. I think she might kiss me. I will not fold. I’m mad at her. “Most people call me Benny. It’s easier to say.”
“I’m not most people to you, so I’ll call you whatever I want. Were you with another man while I was gone?”
Benny’s (There. It is easier to pronounce, but only in my head.) eyes are like saucers. “No.”
I pause to assess her the way I assess my business associates for lies. I don’t think she’s lying, but I can’t trust her because I don’t know her yet. I want to get to know her, which is why I’m going to resort to drastic measures.
I grab her hips and pull her in, pressing her wet slit against my hard cock. Benny licks her lips. “I bet your little pussy is throbbing.”
Benny leans in to kiss me, and I lift my face, not giving her access. She kisses my Adam’s apple. Fuck, that’s sexy. She’s gentle and reluctant, but if I make a move first, she gets brave and forward. I like this about her. I can’t quite predict what she’ll do. It’s nice for a change.
I’m the head of marketing. It’s my job to predict the market so that by the time we launch, we blaze a trail with a product everyone wants to buy or, at the very least, enter a booming market already there with a better product than everyone else’s.
It’s my job to predict what that product looks like, and I do that by reading the customers.
I can’t quite read my wife.
“You smell great, Hudson,” she whispers. My name from her lips sounds like a kiss on my balls, a lick, a tug. My cock twitches. I want to fuck her like this over the counter, raw and fast. I want to fuck her like an animal, and I’m gonna do that. Later.
Today, I want her to get better acquainted with my body, particularly my dick. “Do you want to touch me?” I reach for the top button of my jeans.
Benny nods.
“You can touch me any time you like. You need no permission to do so.”
Benny beams and places her palms against my chest, then slides them up and down my torso. I make sure my muscles are tight and responsive for her. Her gaze drops to my abs and lower yet, where my hand lingers. She strokes my forearm with a finger. “I have a thing for man hands. Yours are sexy.”
When I asked if she wanted to touch me, I was thinking about my dick, not my hands, but if we’re sharing… “I have a thing for obedience.”
“I’ve noticed.”
I move a stray lock of hair from her neck and kiss that soft spot under her ear, then touch my lips over her earlobe, and whisper, “Are you going to be my good little princess? Do what I say at all times?”
“But if I’m the princess, don’t I get to rule?”
I chuckle and kiss her shoulder. “When the king isn’t around.”
“I’m teasing you, Hudson.”
“I know.” I trace my fingers under her dress.
Her breath hitches while I keep kissing her neck.
Her head tilts back and she braces, her palms on the counter.
So much for her stroking my dick. Maybe next time.
I’m happy to give pleasure today, but I gotta know one thing.
“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I tap her mound.
Benny doesn’t answer, so I lift my head and lock eyes with hers. I’m happy when I see hers are glossy. She swallows, looking uncomfortable, then chuckles. “I’m so aware of our age difference right now, it’s not even funny,” she says.
“Was it ever funny?”
“Nah, it’s just a saying.”
“Answer me.”
Benny shakes her head. “Nobody has.”
“This pleases me.”
“It might disappoint.”
My turn to shake my head. “Nah, I’ll train you just the way I like it, and you’ll be sitting on my face in no time, I’m sure. Because you’re a brat like that.” Do I even like brats? Not really. But I like my wife. She can be anything she wants to be, and I’d like her anyway.
There’s something seductive about her. She’s a walking sex magnet, and I can only imagine how many men she’s attracted and dumped as her Dad guarded her innocence.
Only to sell it to me. A man he doesn’t even know.
I could’ve been a complete psycho and destroyed this woman on sight.
I’ll never understand her father, but I am lucky he called me.
I sneak a hand inside her panties, and when Benny closes her eyes, I order her to open them. “You will watch me now. I don’t care if you find it uncomfortable or too intimate. You will do it anyway.”
“Yes, sir.”
I smile.
“Hudson,” she corrects.
“I didn’t mind ‘sir’ in this context.” I trace her labia and groan inwardly at the feel of her small lips and the wetness coating them.
My God, this untouched pussy must look fucking beautiful.
I slide my finger over her entrance, and her eyes flutter, wanting to close, her lips parting slightly.
I circle her clit. The bud’s swelling under my thumb, and I put pressure on it while slowly sliding one finger inside her.
Benny closes her eyes, even leans her head back, mouth open and moaning.
I grab her throat. That gets her attention. “Eyes on me,” I say and slide my finger in and out of her little pussy. “You’re so tight. Does it hurt?”
“A little.”
“Let’s make it hurt a little more, then.
” I insert a second finger, and Benny winces.
I kiss her open mouth, sliding my tongue inside to give her something to do so she’s not so hyperaware of the pain from my fingers penetrating her small fuckhole.
“It only hurts the first time,” I say. “Later, like I said, you’ll be climbing on my face, begging me to finger fuck your little hole and lick it at the same time. ”
“Would you?” she asks.
“Mmhm. Especially in the morning.” I move my fingers a bit faster now, kissing her in earnest. She moans into my mouth while I groan as my balls grow heavier, my dick twitchier, leaking precum into my boxers, wanting to fuck her hole, put some babies inside her womb, secure his best asset forever and ever. Amen, cock. I want that too.
I circle her clit and keep moving my fingers, and the noise her wet pussy makes as I finger fuck it is music to my ears. Through hooded eyes, Benny’s watching me as I kiss her slowly, sometimes moving my tongue at the same pace as my fingers.
I see the moment she’s close. Her hips lift and seek my fingers, and she starts kissing me frantically. I release the hold on her throat and let her do whatever she wants with my body.
I did tell her she could touch me anywhere, anytime. And I meant it. I want my wife to be free to approach me and not fear me or think she needs permission to get her sexy on.
Benny grabs my hair and hooks her legs around my hips. “Hudson, I need you inside me.”
I pump her with my fingers. “You will spend the night in our bedroom, then.”
“Yes,” she says. “Yes, anything.” She’s sliding her body on the counter now, chasing her orgasm.
I grab her throat again, and she freezes.
Inside her pussy, I stop pumping. Instead, I start flicking my fingers up and down inside her, massaging her inner walls.
She’s so fucking wet, I’m gonna make her squirt even if she’s not a squirter.
Benny’s moaning loudly, and I squeeze her throat slightly, making blood rush to her face. “Come on my fingers now. Do it.” I press her clit.
Benny screams, her body convulsing, and I steady my fingers inside so I can feel her channel tremble before her shoulders slump.
I bring her to my chest as I remove my fingers. I lift them up and see a streak of blood. I smear it on my face like war paint.
Benny hugs my middle. Her small hands stroke my back first, then slide right inside my jeans.
She grabs my ass, and just when I think she’ll squeeze and let go, she seems content to stay like this for a bit longer.
I stroke her hair, already losing the bliss of this moment because my fast brain has already moved on to the next thing, whatever I’ll find on the security footage, which I intend to forward to a data geek.
I’ll tell him to give me a summary of whatever he might consider of interest to me.
But before that, I want to ask my wife about what I’ll find in the footage.
I want to ask, but I don’t. Because what’s better than that is having a bit more time with her like this, living in blissful ignorance of the fact she might actually be a faker.
A liar, here only because she’s better off with me than with the man who almost married her.
Second best doesn’t sit well with me. I’m in want of a genuine relationship shared by two happily married people who are in love.
And I want this yesterday. I want it three weeks ago when I fucked up and left for a business trip.
At the time, I thought she’d appreciate my absence, sort out her feelings, and get to know the house. I regret that now.
I wish I’d stayed.
I wish I’d taken her to lunch, to dinner. Gone on a honeymoon.
“Benny?”
“Hm?”
“Get dressed, Princess. We’re leaving.”
She lifts her head. “Okay. Um, is there an emergency that just ran through your head?”
“No, but there will be if you’re not ready in one hour. I’ll wait. I love waiting.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t.” I step away from the counter so she can hop off, fix her hair, and look up at me.
“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?” She bites her lip.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Good or bad surprise?”
I tilt my head. “What are you afraid of?”
Benny pauses, then I see the moment when she decides she’ll tell me, likely against her better judgment. “That you’ll be all great now, but in a month, you’ll surely get bored, and by then, I’m gonna be left not just alone in the house, but also heartbroken.”
“That’s not the kind of man I am.”
Benny walks away, mumbling, “Will see, won’t we?”