Chapter 8
My wife and I leave the restaurant first. I head for the car. She stops, and I follow her gaze toward the mall across the street. “Yes?” I prompt.
“Do you mind if we go for a walk in the mall?”
“For what purpose?”
“Strolling. Maybe shopping.” She taps her purse.
“You can shop online.”
“I’m tired of buying online. I’m tired of doing everything online. I want to wear a dress before I buy it. I want to see people, the pretty things they sell, and I want to buy them and carry bags of them home.”
“You want to buy people and carry them in bags. Are they in pieces or whole?”
Benny’s eyes go wide, and then she smiles. “Pieces. Leather bags. They don’t leak.”
I’m officially in love. I can joke about violence with my wife. “I thought plastic was best suited for that.”
“Plastic-lined leather bags. Duh.” She punches me in the shoulder. “It’s the mall. Walk, shop, eat a slice of pizza.”
“Are you still hungry?”
“Not yet.” She winks and takes my hand, interlacing our fingers. Hers feel small in my large hand.
I give in. “I haven’t been to the mall since college.”
“All the more reason to go now.”
“It’s getting late.”
“It’s four in the afternoon.”
I assess her attire again. She even has a ring though her belly. A hoop with a dangling heart. It’s sexy as hell. The trench coat I thought up earlier sounds promising now.
“What do you want to do?” she asks. “It’s your day off.”
“What all men want to do with their wives, Princess. Fuck.”
She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’ve never been to a mall.”
I frown. “How is it even possible?” For a girl your age, I want to add, but don’t. I’ve had enough reminders of our age difference for one day, fuck you very much, universe.
“Daddy thinks it’s too dangerous for me.”
“Are you prone to reckless endangerment in the mall?”
She chuckles. “Public places, he said, aren’t safe for me.”
This must be the “family” thing, and now I can’t deny her the mall. I tug her hand, and we cross the street. Inside the mall, my princess shivers as the air-conditioning hits her body.
“Would you like a coat?” I prompt.
“Nah, I’ll be fine.”
“T-shirt, perhaps? Oh, look.” I point. “Personalized T-shirts.”
“Nah.”
“Get one,” I order.
She side-eyes me. “Why?”
“No reason.”
“Are you trying to cover me up?”
“No.”
“You are.”
“Am not.”
Benny steps onto my shoes and then goes up on her toes, and I bend my head.
We’re standing at the mall entrance, and people curse as they walk around us to get inside.
I don’t care about their bitching, because my wife wants to kiss me.
I grab the back of her head and peck her lips. “Should’ve gone home.”
“Maybe.”
“We can still leave.”
“We can do it in the dressing room,” she says.
“Not the first time.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I do.”
A man bumps into me, and I stumble forward, barely able to steady us before we fall. Snapping my head in his direction, I catch sight of a leather jacket with white stitching as he gets lost in the crowd. Little bitch hole.
We move with the people and walk around the first floor, second, third, and there Benny seems to have found a clothing store she really likes, because I’m sitting outside the dressing room on a little pink chair trying (and failing) to look comfortable.
The chair’s shaped like a woman’s shoes, narrow and without armrests. Yeah, one of those.
Half an hour later, my wife walks out wearing lingerie. It’s red, lacy, and makes me hard. The woman at the counter approaches her. “I love that on you.”
All in agreement, please raise your hand. I raise mine. “Me too.”
The girls giggle, and the woman steps back as I stand and circle my wife.
I brush her hip with the tip of my finger, then tuck my finger under the lace and pull it back.
It snaps. “Would you give us half an hour?” I pin the woman with the look I know is gonna make her say yes.
It’s got nothing to do with ego and everything to do with knowing people and knowing myself.
Age does come with wisdom, and I’ve spent my life people watching and learning how to persuade them to get what I what.
“Sure,” the woman says and grabs her purse. On her way out, she dims the lights and pulls down the store blinds.
I stand before my wife.
Her brown eyes are hazel now, and that’s lust reflecting in her gaze. I wouldn’t be surprised if her new panties are wet.
She’s looking up at me, lips slightly parted, though her fisted hands make me pause.
“Relax your fists.” I walk behind the desk and grab two large rubber bands, pause, then snatch another in case one breaks. Back with my wife, I run a finger over the swell of her breasts. “Your tits are beautiful,” I say.
Her eyes light up because praise goes a long way.
“Are you wet for me?”
She nods.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’m not lying, s—”
“Is ‘sir’ at the tip of your tongue?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. If you’re not wet, I’ll be disappointed.”
“Oh, I’m wet.”
I shrug. “We’ll see.” I tuck the lace under one breast, leaving the other covered. The nipple is already perked. Before I touch it, I trace my thumb over my wife’s lips and push it inside so her tongue wets my finger. She sucks on it for a bit, and my erection twitches.
My balls are going to explode, but if I continue with this spontaneous mini scene, I’ll get Benny worked up for when we get home.
That tight, wet pussy’s gonna glide right over my cock.
I need it to slide and hurt less when it does.
Not that I’m averse to inflicting pain if the pain makes her hornier. Let’s see if it does.
I pull back the rubber band and release it over the swell of her breasts. Benny winces and purses her lips. It wasn’t too hard, and I didn’t intend to hurt her either. Only a sting.
“I like the red spots on your skin,” I say.
“I like that you like it.”
I snap the rubber band over her nipple. Her abdominal muscles clench, and Benny seems to want to bend over and cover her chest, but she doesn’t. I snap the rubber hand over her other nipple, the one covered with lace. Benny covers her breasts.
“You can say no more. Or you can interlace your arms at the small of you back, fingers gripping the opposite elbows. Pick one.”
She puts her hands behind her.
I snort. “Mmhm. Go on and bend over the pink chair.”
I follow her to the chair, and because I can’t help it, I push her down as she bends over the seat, her hands resting on the back of the chair for leverage.
Her ass rubs my dick, and I press my hardness against her pussy and grab her hips, then rub my jeans-clad dick over her slit.
Benny moans and pushes back, and although I want to yank my cock out and bury it inside that virgin pussy, I step back, pull back the rubber band, and flick her clit.
“Oh my God.” Princess spreads her legs wide.
“There you go. Good girl.”
I find a purple star-shaped ottoman and sit right behind her.
Her reaction to the clit snap makes me think she enjoyed it a lot, but one can never be too sure. “Did you like that?”
“Yes, sir.”
Husband. But I don’t correct her. I’m okay with sir, god, whatever she wants to call me as long it’s said with respect and maybe some love. I’d like some love from her too.
Bending forward, I trace her lace-covered slit with my tongue. The taste of her is sweet and tangy, and she smells like cherry blossoms. I run my nose over her ass and inhale. “Did you take care to smell good for me today?”
“Yes, sir.”
That’s why she took two hours upstairs. Suddenly, I don’t mind lateness or waiting. She wanted to entice me, and that’s a great sign.
I lick the lace of her underwear before I pull, snap the rubber band on her clit again. Her knees join in that very cute girly way that makes me even harder.
I grab her ass and spank her. Not too hard. Not too long either. Only enough to make her skin burn and show me the finger marks. Then I part her ass cheeks, hook the panties with one thumb to remove them from her pussy, and rear back.
Hers is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, with medium-sized lips scrunched up a bit over a small slit. There’s a tiny hoop earring on her left labium. I flick the earring with my finger, and Benny moans.
Slowly, I use my tongue to part her lips, then move on to her pucker hole, where I linger and rim her because I’ll be fucking that hole as soon as I feel like fucking it. Benny’s quiet now, her body tense, and I pull back. “Has anyone ever done that to you?”
Her head is shaking, but I can’t hear anything. “Answer me.”
“No, Hudson.”
Hudson is okay too. “You’re going to come in my mouth. And I will lick and swallow everything, feast on this sweet little pussy.”
“You’re so dirty.”
I chuckle and peck her ass. “Not yet, but I’m getting there.” I stick out my big thick tongue and bury my face between her ass cheeks, licking her entire slit and clit, moving my face over it rapidly, holding her by her thighs so she doesn’t wiggle too much or fall forward and disrupt my feast.
My eyes roll to the back of my head when I hear her moaning loudly, and I reach into my pants (because I can’t stand the pressure in my balls anymore) and jerk off as I tongue fuck her pussy. Benny’s body goes taut.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she chants, and I stick my finger inside her and give her a bit of a fill. She impales herself on it and bites back a scream as her pussy flutters around my finger. Her strength leaves her, and she bends her knees, letting them drop to the chair.
I pat her ass, her back, her hair. then fist it and spin her around. She kneels before me, one breast out, the other barely covered with red lace. Her makeup is perfect, no sign of damage. I want to change that.
I tap my cock on her mouth, and she opens up.
I push inside and hold her there while she gags.
“Breathe through your nose the entire time. You’re doing great, and you’ll do even better if you cry.
Cry for me a little.” I push inside more, reach the back of her throat, and position myself inside so she sucks my cock the way I need in order to come.
Black eyeliner runs from the corners of her eyes, and I swipe it away with my thumb. “Good girl.”
I keep fucking her mouth, grunting like an animal until my balls tighten. Buried inside her mouth, I stop and hold her head. She’s gagging, but I don’t let up. “Breathe through your nose,” I mutter, then spill inside her throat, not letting her go until I’m empty.
I release her and stroke her cheek. “Well done.” I tuck myself inside my pants while Benny’s folded on the floor, looking at the tile, coming down off the spontaneous shit I did to her and trying to process what just happened.
Or perhaps she’s not thinking about it at all.
Perhaps her mind is blank, relaxed. Perhaps she doesn’t need me to coddle her. Perhaps she does.
I don’t know my wife as well as I’d like to. But I have a lifetime to get to know her.
Sitting on the chair, I stare at the mirror and catch the moment Benny grabs my leg and leans against it. There’s nothing quite as satisfying to me as this image. I pet her hair. “I’m gonna take care of you.”
“I believe you,” she says and catches my gaze in the mirror. If the image of her at my feet bothers her, Princess doesn’t show it. Instead, she smiles and sighs, resting her cheek back on my knee.