Chapter 19
CATARINA
“So this will be your room,” Mamaw said, and I looked a little puzzledly at her.
“Uh, Mamaw, we’re married,” Dustin said. “So she’ll stay in my old room with me.”
“Oh, that’s right. I keep forgetting! It happened so fast. The marriage, I mean.”
“Oh come on. You and Papaw didn’t get married until after your second kid.”
She shrugged. “Got me there. I’ll give you two some time to settle in, and then are you all ready for the big bowling outing tonight?”
“Bowling outing?” I asked reflexively. I glanced at Dustin for confirmation.
“Are we going to Rolling Pins?”
Mamaw smiled a big smile. “Yes. We rented out half the lanes in the place tonight and we invited your old friends when we found out you two were coming. That okay with you? Of course, it is! It’ll be absolutely lovely.
I’ll leave you two to get ready . . . or do whatever it is newlyweds do!
” She winked. “Catarina, I can’t wait to make your acquaintance. Neither can the rest of Middletown.”
Dustin nodded. “Thanks, Mamaw. You’re the best. We’ll get situated and be down shortly.”
Mamaw left, and I heard her feet creaking down the old stairs. Dustin set our suitcases next to each other on a desk, then heaved a sigh as he looked out the window.
“You okay?” I asked, rubbing his back.
He nodded. “Fine.”
“You don’t seem fine. Can I do anything?”
“It’s not you. I just get stressed out coming back home.”
“How come?”
He turned to me and ran his hand along my shoulder. “Childhood stress. I’m not saying I had a tough upbringing necessarily, but there were just some things.”
“What things?”
“Let’s just head down, shall we? Do you need to change?”
“Yes,” I said. “I just want to shower off and throw on a dress after that long plane ride.”
“Sounds good. Mind if I join you?”
“It’s your shower, babe.”
“Sure.”
We both stripped down and I brought in some of the kiwi shampoo I had transported, using a little bottle.
I stood behind Dustin in his bathroom as he turned the water on and put his hand in to check the temperature.
“Is it warm yet?” I asked.
“A little impatient, are we?” he teased.
I showed him the little bottle. “I’m just all about efficiency.”
“So cute. That’s one of the reasons I married you,” he said. He turned his head and checked me out over his shoulder.
I leaned into his back, pressing my chest against him and wrapping my hand around his abdomen. “So you’re admitting there’s a reason you married me . . . aside from these?”
I playfully brushed my nipples against his back as I slid my hand down his chest, teasing the area of his midsection just above his cock.
He let out a low groan. “I was joking about that. You know.”
“You were joking?” I whispered, getting on my tippy toes. “So you mean to say you don’t like my tits?”
He froze.
“Freudian slips don’t just happen randomly. You said that for a reason,” I spoke softly. “You said you like tit.”
The only sound from Dustin was low breaths as I inched my hand tauntingly close to his cock, which I could see was throbbing and straightening as it hardened.
He reciprocated by reaching a hand behind him and cupping my ass. My skin was hot, and heat was rapidly pooling between my legs.
“Now that’s just a deliberate misunderstanding of what I said,” he growled. “And I’ll not have my wife acting like that.”
I rested my chin on him. “What are you going to do about it?” I whispered.
He pulled me into the shower, and the water was hot as it splayed down my back. “On your knees,” he said. I kneeled down on the rubber mat, my heart pounding and my insides throbbing with need.
He wrapped my wet hair into a ponytail, and paused for a moment, looking down at me. “Open your mouth, Wife.”
I did as he said, and took him in my mouth. By now he had hardened all the way. I ran my lips over his slick cock as he turned me into an instrument of his pleasure, fucking my face.
I loved the sensation of the hot water crawling over my back as I tasted his salty tip with my tongue. I gagged a few times, breathless, and felt how hot I was getting between my legs. I ached for relief. But when I slipped a hand down to touch myself, he chuckled and grabbed my arms.
“I don’t think so, Cat,” he said, and a chill rolled up my spine.
He had me put my arms behind my back, and I felt the full force of him in my mouth again.
“Please, Dustin,” I said breathlessly when I had a chance, but the sound of the shower seemed to drown out my voice.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I want to feel you inside me.”
“Oh?” he pumped his cock into my mouth and took it out. “Like that?”
“No,” I mewled.
“Where, then?”
“I want to feel you in my pussy.”
He smirked. “Sounds like someone needs to be a little more specific with their words.”
He pulled me up to my feet, kissed me, and turned me around.
I pressed my hands against the tile, and he slowly entered me, his flesh rubbing up against my clit as he did.
“Oh, fuck yes,” I purred.
“You’re already ready,” he said, and I felt his hands rubbing my back, and moving around to my hips. “Good Wife.”
He thrust in and out slowly at first, and then he fucked me deep and hard and good, and I wondered where this had been all my life.
The warm water hit somewhere on my back, but I wasn’t sure where the nozzle was anymore, or for that matter what was up or down or sideways. His hips rocked into me and my eyes rolled to the back of my head as I clenched up and came hard.
He bucked me like wild and all I could do was whisper softly.
“Yes. Yes. Yes. Fuck me, Husband.”
And then I felt his cock twitch and he reached and rubbed my breasts as he leaned forward.
“Where do you want me to come?” he growled.
“Wherever you want,” I purred back.
He pulled out and came on my ass, and we stood there for a few moments with our chests heaving as the water streamed down, rinsing us. Finally, I let my hands off the wall, my arms tired from using them for leverage.
He spun me around, grabbed me by the hips, and brought me in for a kiss in the rain.
Or, the shower, whatever.
“I feel kind of like I’m in The Notebook right now,” I giggled. “You know, that scene where Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams kiss in the rain.”
He ran a hand through my hair. “You’re funny.”
“I mean, obviously we’re in a shower. But a girl can dream.”
“Why would you want to dream about The Notebook?”
“Doesn’t every girl?”
He shrugged and picked up the little bottle of kiwi shampoo.
“I’m pretty sure they don’t have sex this hot in The Notebook.”