18. Eighteen - Ahmad
Eighteen - Ahmad
J ameela was standing, with her back to me, at the kitchen sink, washing bottles, because she always emphatically stated how she didn’t trust the dishwasher to clean her baby’s bottles.
She had on her usual little ass boy shorts and tiny tank top. The baby monitor sat on the kitchen island, showing the image of our son fast asleep.
I was tired from a long sixteen-hour shift, but I was not about to miss this opportunity to bend her sexy ass over the kitchen sink.
Strolling up behind her, Jameela jumped when I reached around and stroked her breast.
“Hey, baby,” I said and kissed her on her neck.
She let out a little whimper and my dick jerked, trying to find its way home.
“How was work?” She asked as she grinded her ass back on my dick.
Yeah. She wanna get bent over.
“Work was fine, but that ain’t important. I wanna feel how much you missed me.”
I lowered my hands and found her plump, juicy lower lips through her tiny shorts and massaged them.
“Damn. You’re wet as shit. I can feel it through your shorts. You missed me?” I asked, slipping the material to the side and dipping a finger into her tight heat.
Jameela’s response was a low moan that caught in her throat as I circled her clit.
“Nah, baby. Let me hear it,” I ordered.
“I missed you so fucking much, Saeed. So much! ”
The desperation in her voice wrapped around my heart and squeezed.
I fucking love this woman.
The words were always on the tip of my tongue, but never came out.
Jameela has been at my house since my sister’s visit, and it felt perfect.
It was different from when we were at her place.
Her being in my space felt like it made our family real.
She cooked for me, took care of Ahmir, and even cut more of her hours.
Because even though she said she was part time, I always found her with work on her lap when she was supposed to be relaxing.
It was such a relief to see that she was now getting the proper rest she needed.
She didn’t know it yet, but I changed all my shit, and added her name to everything I have. I also opened a trust account for Ahmir… neither one of them would ever go without.
Jameela would definitely never go without my dick. I made it a point to love on her every chance I got. Days like this, I came in tired as hell from surgery after surgery, but as soon as I would lay eyes on her, the need to be buried deep in her walls consumed me and outweighed any fatigue I felt.
Letting my thoughts drift back to the moment, and focusing on Jameela’s juices dripping down my fingers, I whispered to her how much I missed her too.
“I need you, MiMi. Can I bend you over right here? Can I explore your pussy right now?”
I tugged on her earlobe and pressed my hard dick into her ass… letting her feel what she did to my body.
“You can have me when and wherever you like, baby. I’m yours.”
That was all I needed.
I ripped her tiny shorts from her ass and undid my slacks.
I bend her over, with her head damn near in the sink and slap her hard on the ass.
“You better be mine, MiMi,” I said before slamming into her in one long thrust.
“Yesss! Just like that.”
I’ve come to learn that Jameela liked it a little rough. She would randomly bring up how hard I fucked her the first night we were together.
And shit… my ass wasn’t one to disappoint.
I slapped Jameela again on the ass, harder than before, and attempted to reach beyond her womb with my strokes.
“You look so damn sexy like this, MiMi… bent over… ass bare and red with my handprint. I could have you like this every day for the rest of my fucking life.”
I know we were in the throes of passion, but I meant every word. I wanted her with me every day from here on out.
“I’m not going anywhere, baby.”
Her words, coupled with the pleasure from feeling her wrapped around me, had me firing off words, before I even realized what was coming out of my mouth.
“Marry me then.”
Jameela came so hard, squeezing me, and ripping my release straight from my body as if she held the control over it.
Shit, she does.
My heart beat pounded so hard that I could feel the throbbing in my ears, and my entire body shivers. I also felt Jameela’s shivers, and I don’t think she even heard my words.
I didn’t repeat them, for the slight fear of rejection.
We both leaned against the sink, heaving as we came down from our euphoric high.
After I cleaned the remnants of our sex, she turned and kissed me deeply.
“You want me to marry you?”
She did hear me.
“I do. I love you, Jameela. But it’s okay if you’re not ready for any of that. I also know that wasn’t the best way to ask you. Let me have a do over.”
I chuckled, because I was nervously rambling like a little damn kid.
“I never thought I would have a second chance at love,” she said, and stroked my face. “I love you too, Ahmad. And the answer to your question will always be yes. I know all of this happened fast and from a wild and reckless night, but I swear I would repeat it all again if it led to this moment.”
“I don’t know, I would have loved seeing my son grow in your belly and had the opportunity to wait on you hand and foot.”
She laughed.
“I was mean as shit when I was pregnant… ask Kennedy. You didn’t want to witness that. Plus, you’ve been doing nothing but waiting on me and taking care of me since you came back into my life. I love you deeply for that.”
I leaned down to kiss her, then lifted her in my arms and carried her off to bed.
Now that Ahmir was a little older, he slept much longer, and I got more opportunities to make love to Jameela.