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She stretches to place her lips against mine and sucks my bottom lip into her mouth. “I’m going to make you feel so damn good.”
She moves her mouth down the side of my neck. “You’re definitely moving in the right direction.”
“Getting warmer, huh?”
“Aye.”
She loosens the knot of my tie and lifts it over my head. She pulls the bottom of my shirt from my pants and begins unbuttoning it, starting at the top. When it’s open, I sit up and she pushes it from my shoulders before tossing it over the arm of the sofa.
She places her palms on my chest and pushes me so my back is pressed against the sofa. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”
“Whatever you say.”
She kisses the center of my chest while tracing the tips of her thumbs around my nipples. They harden and she pinches them, sending a tingle straight to my cock. Or maybe her mouth moving down my stomach is the culprit.
Bleu reaches the waistband of my trousers and tugs the button open before lowering the zipper. Her hand reaches inside and frees me. She looks up at me and licks her lips. “Am I getting warmer?”
“Definitely.”
She lowers her mouth and presses her tongue just above my balls, dragging it in a slow, upward motion along my length. She reaches the head and sucks it into her mouth, swirling her tongue back and forth across the tip while holding the base.
She looks up and we make eye contact. “Still just warm?”
“No.” I suck air through clenched teeth. “You’re on-fucking-fire.”
She smiles before taking me back into her mouth in what I’m predicting will be the best blow job ever.
I lace my fingers through her hair as her head bobs up and down over my cock. Her hand cups my scrotum and she gently rolls my balls. This kind of massaging, I can stand. She can do it any time she wants. “Mmm … you’re making me feel so damn good, just like you said you would.”
I’m going to come very soon. I’m not sure how Bleu prefers that to happen. But I know how I feel about it. She’s my wife, not one of my previous conquests. I don’t plan to treat her as such. “Bonny. I’m about to come. I don’t want to do it in your mouth.”
Her head lifts but she’s still close enough I feel her warm breath on my dick when she speaks. “It’s okay.”
No. It’s really not.
I’ve done it plenty of times and it was always with one thing in mind—to convey to the woman I was with that she was nothing more than an object I was using for my own gratification. I don’t want that for my Bonny Bleu.
I caress my hand over her hair. “Stop, baby.”
She does as I ask and looks up at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Not a thing in the world.”
I tug on her hands—willing her to stand—and she follows my cue. I unfasten the bottom button of her shirt and work my way up. She’s wearing a pink-and-white-striped bra, trimmed in black lace. Something about it reminds me of Paris. “Ooh la la.”
She trails two fingers down her breastbone between her tits. “Do you like it?”
“Aye. So well I think you should keep it on a while longer. I like the way you’re all stacked up there.”
When I’m finished, her shirt joins mine on the couch and I go to work on her trousers. Her shoes are already off so she kicks out of her pants.
She’s wearing matching knickers. No surprise there. My lass always wears paired sexies for me.
I grasp her arse cheeks in my hands and pull her forward, pressing my nose against the satiny triangle barely covering her. I inhale deeply. “You smell like the best kind of aphrodisiac. I can never get enough.”
I slip my finger into her elastic waistband and pull back, dipping my nose inside. “I like these knickers very much but I’d prefer seeing them on the floor.”
She pushes her fingers through my hair. “I think you’ve mastered all the ways to make that happen.”
“I’m sure there’s always room for improvement.”
I glide my hands over the arse of her knickers and hook my fingers over the back waistband. I scrunch them in my fisted hands and drag them down her legs. She steps out and I crumple them against my nose. I breathe in Bleu’s aroma. “I could very well develop a panty fetish because of your scent, my dear Mrs. Breckenridge. It’s divine.”
“Then I’d have to call you a weirdo. Or sex fiend. That’s probably more appropriate.”
“I assure you I’ve been called much worse.”
I grasp her behind her knee and place her foot on the sofa so I have better access to what I want. She grasps my shoulders for balance as she stands on a single foot.
My hand palm side up, I slip it between her legs. I push my fingers through her slit and bring them forward, barely grazing her sensitive nub. I do it again, softly and slowly. Deliberate. I want her to yearn for more. “Do you like it when I do that?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
I stroke her again. “Then you’d like more of this?”
“You know I do.”
“How badly do you want it?”
“Desperately.”
“Then ask me for it.”
“Touch me.”
“I don’t think that’s exactly what you want. A simple touch will never make you come. Tell me what it is you really want.”
“Stroke me.” She takes one of her hands from my shoulder and places on top of mine. She rocks her hips back and forth. “Right here.”
“Stroke here until you what?”
“Until I come.”
I move my fingers back and forth. “Like this?”
“Mmm … hmm.”
She’s holding my hand with hers, moving her hips against my fingers. Faster and harder. It isn’t long before I’m seeing the cues she’s close to climax. “I want to be inside you when you come.”
I grasp the back of her leg, the one she’s still standing on. “Hold onto my shoulders.”
I pull her so her legs are straddling me. I guide my rock-hard cock to her entrance. She sinks over me until I’m deep inside. “Ohh,” she gasps.
She wraps her arms around my shoulders and begins moving with me. I move my fingers to that sen
sitive spot above our union and continue stroking her sensitive zone. “This is where I want to come. Inside you—here.” Never in her mouth like the others. Never in the mouth she’ll use to kiss our children.
“It’s starting,” she says while slowing to ride me with more deliberate motion. And she’s right. The muscular contractions squeeze tightly around my cock. It’s all I need to start the onset of my own climax.
“I feel it.” I grasp her hips tightly, digging my fingertips into her flesh. I pull her down hard and plunge deep, meeting her thrust for thrust.
“Ohh … ohh,” she groans. It’s her patented noise every time she comes. It’s a glorious sound to hear. It means I’ve given my wife another orgasm. I’m still the only man who’s ever done that for her.
It’s a carefully orchestrated act to bring together. And worth every bit of effort. There’s nothing else like it in this world.
When we’re both satiated, she relaxes against me, resting her cheek against my shoulder. I’m still inside her. I want to keep it that way so I put my arms around her waist to hold her in place.
I thought making love might take her mind off the baby stuff but I don’t think it has. “You’re still there.”
She pulls away to look at my face. “I’m still where?”
“That place your mind went after we left the fertility clinic this morning.”
“I’m sorry.” I’m happy she isn’t pretending she doesn’t know what I mean.
“It’s okay. I’m in the same place.” And I want to be there together.
“It scares me.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.” She presses her forehead to mine. “I’m terrified it won’t work. I’m petrified it will.”
I rub my hands up and down her back. “I think all first-time parents have these kinds of fears.”
“But mine are different. They consist of more than how I’ll care for a baby.”
I want to know and understand the things causing her angst. “Tell me about it.”
