Bonus Chapter #3
A devilish grin stretches my lips, and I help her take off my jeans and underwear by lifting myself.
In the past decade, I’ve lost count of how many times she’s sucked my cock.
We haven’t lost our keen desire to please each other, finding great satisfaction in one another’s pleasure.
Still, I can never get over my freckled little wife getting on her knees like this, ready to sacrifice oxygen for my own gratification.
As she welcomes my resting length in her mouth, a purr rolls in her throat, vibrating through me. I harden remarkably fast, and before long, she’s skillfully deepthroating me, ripping moans out of me.
“Ah, fuck … just like that, yes …”
With a hand, she fondles my sack below, squeezing it just right.
Every time I look down with a cavernous gaze, I meet her submissive eyes, wet with tears of discomfort.
Fucking hell … She got even better at this over the years, and although I’ve gotten better at holding back, I’m still in awe of her skills.
Because of her heavy belly, I don’t want to cause her any discomfort by delaying my climax.
So, when she doubles down on her efforts, sucks harder, takes me deeper, I let myself enjoy it.
My hands grab her head, and I press her down on me with a savage roar, cum spurting down her throat in powerful jets.
She stays down as I moan her name and pant, waiting for the last drop to come out. When I release her, she lets me slip out of her mouth but doesn’t appear done with me yet, giving my softening cock long, playful licks, looking up at me with pride and mischief.
“Fuck, Andrea … It never gets old.”
“For me, either.” She kisses the sensitive spot right below my head and gives it a small lick. When I shiver from the teasing, she can’t hold back a delighted grin.
Still not finished, she circles the base of my dick with her index and thumb, then tightens the hold before moving all the way up. It squeezes out another drop of cum, and she licks it clean as it rolls down my glistening tip.
“You were always such a hungry slut for my cum,” I say with appreciation, smirking.
“Now I even look the part.”
My perfect fucking wife … I grab a fistful of hair at the back of her head and pull her toward me to ravage her with a deep kiss. We share my taste, my tongue scraping hers for remnants of my pleasure. When I let her go, she’s all flushed and panting.
I pull my jeans up and fasten them. “Get on the desk,” I order, helping her stand on her feet. I quickly rearrange my things so she can not only sit on it but also lean back. Once it’s done, I lift her and sit her in the freed space.
With impatient moves, I undo the knot of her robe’s belt to push the fluffy fabric aside.
She helps me get rid of her sweatpants and underwear, and giggles when I eagerly tug her T-shirt up to reveal her round stomach and full breasts.
I never minded their original size, but I also like this a lot. More matter to play with.
As always, seeing her like this, witnessing the miracle of life in my wife, is surreal. This, in there, is my child. My daughter. Andrea gave that to me. A family to call my own. Children. Everything.
“Do you have any idea how much I adore seeing you like this?” I ask, eyes roaming over every bare inch of her.
“It’s this primal thing that takes over my brain, and I feel so fucking proud to see you full of my child like this.
” My hands graze the taut skin, triggering our daughter below to give a small kick.
“When we’re outside with the boys, I feel like I’m on top of the world.
People see us, they see you, and they know I did this to you.
They know you’re having my child for the third time.
That we created life together. Of all the men out there, I’m the one you chose. ”
“I could say the same,” she replies, visibly emotional. “I’m Alexander Coleman’s baby mama. Life doesn’t get better than this, does it?”
“Alexander Walker.”
With my hands framing her face, I pull her in for another bone-melting kiss.
She shivers as I drag my lips down her throat.
I make my way down her fertile body, teasing each nipple as I pass them, kissing the dark line in the middle of her stomach, which she’s had for all three pregnancies.
I’ll miss this little detail. When I arrive below her navel, she lets out an approving moan and leans back on the desk.
I drag my tongue between her pussy lips, parting them to sample her with determination. Her flavor explodes in my mouth, and I can’t hold back an approving moan. This, too, I’ll miss.
Since we have so much time ahead of us before the others come back, I don’t rush it, comfortably seated on my desk chair as I devour her.
Her feet are on the armrests, so there will be no straining on my part.
I can do this for hours. My hands at her hips travel up, around her belly, all the way to her swollen tits.
I fondle them, ripping a low moan out of her, then pinch and twist her tender nipples with deft fingers.
“Aah, shit …” she cries out with an involuntary jolt.
When my tongue enters her as deeply as it can reach while I give her nipples a harsher tug, she curses and arches against the desk. How can I still draw so much satisfaction from this? Hundreds of hours of eating this woman out, and I’m still as eager as the first time I did it.
“You like that, freckles?” I drawl.
“You know I do. Don’t stop.”
“You want me to make you come?” The pointed tip of my tongue circles her clit, close enough to bring pleasure, but far enough to keep it mild.
“Yes …”
“Say the magic word, then.”
“Please, Alexander … Please, please, please …”
“What a good little wife you are,” I approve with a chuckle.
“That’s because I have such a good little husband.”
As a reward, I push two fingers into her.
“Aah, yes! Fuck …”
Her hands clutch my hair as she climbs and climbs, her orgasm nearing. The wet, rhythmic sounds of my fingers fucking her come to my ears, as well as the touch of my tongue flicking intensely over her clit. Shit, I might need another go after this.
I’m dead set on making her come fast so we can have a quickie before everyone returns, when the door opens, and her father’s voice replaces all other sounds. “We’re ba—Oh my God! I’m so sorry—”
Before I can even comprehend what’s happening, the door is slammed shut as fast as it was opened. I stop my ministrations instantly, and I sit up at once. Andrea does the same, struggling a little as she pulls her T-shirt down. What the—
The way her face turns crimson has nothing to do with the pending orgasm anymore. “What the fuck just happened?!” she asks, refusing to believe it.
“I think your dad just walked in on us.”
Mortified, she buries her face in her hands. “Jesus fucking Christ …” she whimpers. Then she lets her hands down and says, “Go get a shovel.”
“Are we killing your dad to make sure he never tells anyone?”
“No, you’re digging a hole in the backyard so I can crawl in it and spend the rest of my life there.”
“I’ll make it big enough for two. Maybe the kids will pay us a visit now and then.”
“This isn’t funny, Lex!”
“Believe me, I know. Fuck, why didn’t you lock the door?”
“We had an hour! It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes. Oh my God … I can’t go back out there.”
I take a moment to assess the situation, my hands caressing her naked thighs in a soothing manner.
I definitely prefer him catching us now than moments ago, when she was on her knees and pleasuring me.
At least I pass as a good, devoted husband in this scenario.
Still, not being caught at all would have been the better outcome.
“Come on, your dad knows we have sex,” I point out, nodding at her belly, the very evident proof of our active sex life.
“Not like that … That was like … a naughty little midday treat. Nothing like procreative sex.”
When a laugh bubbles in my chest, I press my lips on her stomach to muffle it. “It’ll be okay,” I promise.
“No, it won’t. I can’t believe I successfully never walked in on my parents, only to have this happen! I’m thirty-seven, Lex! I’m too old for this shit.”
I stand between her parted thighs and gently frame her face, forcing her to look into my eyes. “It’ll be fine, my love. We weren’t doing anything forbidden. So what if your father knows you have a loving marriage and a worshipping husband? There’s nothing wrong with that.”
That wins her over a little, and she looks up with a pout that reminds me of our sons. I kiss her pursed lips and say, “Come on, freckles. You’ve been too much of a badass in your life to let this take you down.”
“The blue ovaries are what’ll take me down.”
“Do you want me to finish you off real quick?”
“Hell no, that ship has sailed,” she refuses, pushing me away so she can get down from the desk. She cleans herself with a couple of tissues, then brings her pants up.
When we return to the main space, they’re all here.
Isabella is busy in the kitchen, the kids are working on the Legos, and Michael is overseeing that.
Andrea walks to the kitchen to see if her mom needs help, and I go to my father-in-law.
I stand next to him, crossing my arms as I watch my sons do their thing.
“So, you didn’t go to the park,” I say.
“We meant to, but Newt was cold, and Gabriel wanted to return to the Legos.”
“I see …”
A long and awkward silence follows, which he breaks first. “I’m sorry I interru—”
“We don’t have to talk about it,” I quickly cut him off. “Ever. Especially don’t mention it to Andrea.”
“Yes, fair.”
“It’s weird. It happened. And now we move on and pretend it never did.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“Good.”
For a moment, we watch the kids. Michael helps when Newt can’t get two pieces apart, then he returns next to me.