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“That’s really sweet of you and all, but I’m seven months pregnant, Thatch,” I said in slight disbelief. “There is no way that my pussy, or any place on my body for that matter, is looking anything remotely close to beautiful.”
He looked up at me and locked his gaze with mine. “You’re beautiful, Cassie,” he said, and I couldn’t deny that my husband’s heart was definitely in his eyes. “Pregnant, not pregnant, it doesn’t fucking matter. You are my everything. My best friend. My partner in crime. My lover. My wife. The mother of my children. You will always be the most beautiful woman in my eyes.”
God, I’m so in love with this man.
Every day, it felt like I only fell in love with him more. Thatch was the only man who had my heart. The only man who would ever have my heart.
“Even when I’m ninety and I can tuck my tits into my shoes?” I teased as I blinked past the tears filling my eyes.
“Especially then,” he said with a wink. “And I call dibs on helping you tie your shoes. I gotta make sure my favorite girls don’t get injured.”
I laughed at that.
“I love you, Crazy,” he said and I smiled.
“I love you, too.”
“Pussy pleasure time?” he asked and I nodded. Hell, I think my vagina even nodded. She’d been painfully sitting through chitchat, while all she wanted was Thatch’s attention.
“Yes, please.”
“Yes, please?” He quirked a brow and I smiled.
“Yes, please, Daddy.”
“Good girl.”
As it turned out, there was more than one Mother Fluffer this Mother’s Day. But as exciting as the synthetic one was, this one—Thatcher Kelly, the man of my dreams—was indisputably my favorite.
