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Tradition.
Cue Fiddler on the Roof soundtrack.
There were many things I wanted to instill in my child, and eating dinner as a family was one of them.
With the stone set, I placed the ring to the side, cleaned off my work area, and headed home to my girls. I had to smile a little when I opened the door to my car—the first car I ever bought for myself. It wasn’t extravagant, just a mid-sized sedan with a car seat strapped into the middle of the backseat, but it was mine. My commute was short, and as soon as I walked in the door, they were there.
“Daddy!”
Like it always did, my pulse quickened as I heard my daughter call for me. A moment later, she was flinging herself into my arms. Right behind her was her mother, beautiful and covered in flour and cookie dough. Dessert came before dinner—just like it always did on Friday nights.
Tradition.
Though I still followed many of the traditions begun by my father, I favored those we had made up ourselves. Katie seemed to think all traditions should involve some sort of sweets, but we tried to have some practical ones as well.
Well, Tria did. I kind of liked the dessert-related ones.
Katie ran to her room as soon as dinner was over and was out three minutes later, dressed in her tiny dobok with the green belt wrapped around her waist. I swore she decided to start with Taekwondo because she loved to kick me, and she was already a natural.
Tria had been pissed when I first brought it up—she didn’t want Katie learning to fight. Once I went over all the ways she would be able to defend herself, and Katie gave her a serious amount of pouty face, Tria gave in and allowed it. Once I started training with my little girl, the real benefits became obvious to my wife.
Once we were done training, Katie was exhausted and would be in bed and out like a light by eight in the evening. I’d kiss her forehead, make sure her iPod was playing Chopin, and quietly close her door. Then I would tiptoe across the hall where my wife would be in our bed, ready to start working on Katie’s little brother or sister.
Like most evenings when Katie dropped off early, Tria was ready for me—no doubt about that. She was splayed out in the center of the king-size bed, wearing absolutely nothing at all. She was on her back, legs spread, and her little fingers were playing around with her luscious pussy.
“Vixen,” I growled. I pulled my shirt over my head as I approached her. “I can’t wait to get inside you. You already look so warm and wet…”
“Ready for your cock,” she replied softly.
“Oh, you know what that dirty talk does to me.”
Tria giggled, and I quickly pulled open my pants and let them drop around my ankles. As I crawled over her, I kicked off my boots, pants, and boxers, and watched them fall to the floor next to the bed.
I was still a bit of a slob when it came to laundry.
I moved my hands over my wife’s thighs, past her hips, and all the way up her body. I cupped her face as I kissed her lightly on the lips a few times. When I pulled back, I gazed down at her for a moment, smiling at—but not mentioning—the little bit of cookie dough in her hair.
Tria ran her fingers over my chest, tracing the scripted words there.
the reason my heart beats
Tria, Katie
“Time to work on that third name,” I told her.
“Hmm…” I kissed her finger as she reached up and ran her fingers over the side of my face, stopping at my lips. I could taste her on her own fingers, which made my cock throb.
“You’re so fucking sexy, you drive me insane,” I informed her.
She wrapped her legs around my waist and brought me to her warm core. Lips and tongues reacquainted themselves with each other as our bodies merged. She was as warm and wet inside as she had appeared, and I slid home effortlessly.
“Yeah, baby…that’s it…you feel so right!”
Tria just moaned and nipped at my neck as her hips matched my rhythm. I placed kisses down the front of her throat and between her tits. I tilted my head to one side, captured a nipple in my mouth, and then moved over to the other one. Once they had their attention, I moved back to seize her mouth with mine.
“You love that, don’t you?” I mumbled against her lips. “You love my cock in you.”
More moans.
