Chapter 6
MADDOX
Ididn’t understand it.
My first sexual failure.
This had literally never happened. Never! No matter how tired I was, how much I wasn’t really that into her, how many times I had already gone that day, I had always been able to get it up.
I was seething behind the wheel as I drove home, still burning with the humiliation of my escape from Gwen’s.
I had tried to pull myself together as much as possible, and failed.
When I at last slunk out of the bathroom, I found her busily texting her next backup guy.
I apologetically claimed food poisoning while fumbling around for my scattered clothes.
She occasionally flicked her eyes in my direction with a look of bored disgust.
As I awkwardly hopped into my pants, she answered an incoming call.
“Hey Jeremy,” she moaned seductively into the phone.
“You want to tell the wife you have a work emergency and get over here? Yeah, I was supposed to see someone else tonight, but something didn’t come up with him.
” She stared straight at my crotch, malevolent rage in her eyes.
“Sorry, I’m sorry, my lunch just isn’t agreeing with me,” I had mumbled pathetically while struggling with my shirt buttons.
When I’d finally made it back to my car, I had just roared in frustration and punched the steering wheel over and over before I could even get back on the road.
Maybe one night like this was inevitable? Wasn’t that the line I’d heard in dumb comedies with erectile dysfunction plotlines? “It happens to everyone!”
But I was not everyone! I was Maddox Lockwood! This dick was special!
Gwen’s parting look flashed into my mind. I suspected the contempt in her cold eyes would haunt me for the rest of my life.
And judging by that look, my affair with her had probably come to an end. I wasn’t optimistic about getting a chance to prove to her what a once-in-a-lifetime outlier this had been.
I tried to console myself with reminders that there was always going to be another Gwen out there. Maybe not as exciting and sexually inexhaustible as she was, but they’d have their own selling points.
And of course there was always Callie. On a night as rough as this one, there was something incredible about having someone like her to come home to.
I felt a wave of appreciation for my wife.
Whatever she lacked in newness, she compensated for in her caring nature and her steadfast predictability.
And, most importantly, she loved to indulge me.
Whenever I was in a mood, she was always ready and waiting to give me whatever I needed to feel better.
And this was one of the worst moods I had ever been in. I needed a pick me up, badly.
I really had to make sure to appreciate Callie more. And not only with more sex.
I should also get her some flowers. I made a note to tell my assistant to send her some tomorrow.
These thoughts of Callie finally released some of the tension from my body. The tightness of my grip on the steering wheel loosened. I relaxed back into the supple leather of the seat.
It was funny to be reminded of it, but when we’d gotten married, I really had believed I could be a one-woman man. For her, it had seemed possible.
She had definitely fallen for me first, and it had taken me longer to get there.
But once I fell for her, I had felt so complete being her man.
Taking her to the farmer’s market every Sunday morning and keeping my arm around her so everyone knew she was mine.
Cuddling through our weekly movie nights, trading off between my bad action movies and her bad rom-coms.
Time with her had been more than enough…
for a year or two. And then those old urges started popping up again.
My dad had always said real men could never limit themselves to one woman, and in those newlywed days with Callie, I’d thought he was full of it.
But as the months turned into years, I learned what he meant.
A man had to always be hunting for a new conquest to feel alive.
Well, not always. On nights like tonight, you went home to the good woman you married.
Whatever had been ailing my dick earlier, I was sure he was over that by now. A fluke occurrence. He would be happy with Callie when we got home.
Maybe tonight I would have her blow me. I bet she would like that.
* * *
I opened my front door to music with heavy, thumping bass shaking the ceiling, just as that track ended and another began. I immediately recognized those songs in that order. This was my favorite sex playlist!
Callie had the sex playlist going while she waited for me to get home from my “important client drinks.” All right. That was a good sign.
“Callie?” I called out.
“I’m in the bedroom,” came the seductive reply. Not just the sex playlist, but the sex voice too!
Okay, I liked the way this was going. Forget earlier. Let’s go.
As a spring returned to my step, I bounded up the stairs and hustled down the hall. I slowed down as I approached the bedroom. I couldn’t bust in too eagerly. That was weak. I needed to give her that slow, confident swagger I knew she liked.
As I stepped into the bedroom, was I ever pleased with the vision that greeted me.
Callie was reclining on the bed, wearing the skimpiest lingerie and the hottest come-hither smile.
The lights were low, and she’d lit a few flickering candles around the room.
She trailed a hand invitingly down her body, caressing those exquisite tits as she went.
As her hand reached her pussy, my cock sprang back to life with enough force that I was surprised it didn’t rip through my pants.
All right, man! Back in the game as quickly as we were called out!
My hands hastily went to work getting out of my clothes, stripping as fast as I could without looking too hungry.
Callie arched her back, sending her beautiful breasts rising enticingly. “Were the clients impressed with you?”
She was laying it on thick, and I liked it. How did she always know just what I needed?
I was across the room and on her like a panther.
The heat of her body radiated up at me. Her compliant smile was exactly what I wanted to see.
All this woman wanted to do was please me.
Her whole life was about making me happy.
It was what got her out of bed in the morning… and now back into bed at night.
I could not wait to fuck my wife.
Before I could do anything, her hand was on my cock. Her stroke was expert. She knew just how I liked to be touched. I savored the intense waves of pleasure she sent shuddering through me.
“My god, your dick,” she gasped. “It’s really something, isn’t it?”
I loved how awed she sounded. She knew to honor my dick as the prize it was. And I wanted to hear more of it.
“Tell me how much you want it,” I growled.
She lifted her head, bringing her mouth close to my ear. Her aroused breathing got me even harder, if that were possible. If I let myself, I could burst right then just from the rhythm of her breathing synced with the perfection of her soft fingers on my cock.
And then, in her most beguiling tone, she whispered, “What I want is…”
Her other hand cupped my nuts. Huh. She usually focused on the shaft. Ball play was rare for her. Which was maybe why she was squeezing them in a way that was not comfortable. I coughed. “Um, babe—”
The pressure on my nuts increased as she snarled her next words. “What I want is to have you by the balls, you cheating piece of shit.”