Page 22 of Croc Food

Chad pulled off that tie, exposing a long, strong throat and sculptured chest.

“I’ve been hired by a billionaire to be your personal sexbot,” he said.

And if we’d been in a better place, I would have thought this was pretty funny.

“Whatever you say, dear.”

Again, he hesitated, looking almost vulnerable now.

“You want this?”

“I want everything that pleases you.”

He frowned at that, but kept going, pulling off his shirt so I could see his long limbs, the ridge of muscles across his back.

Then his fingers were on that long, girthy dick that hung between his legs like a freaking 10 pound weight, unzipping his pants slowly, letting them drop on the floor.

“Very nice,” I said.

This seemed to really turn him on, and he dropped to one knee in front of me.

“Oh, please forgive me, I’m begging here, Bitsy.”

He was stroking his cock, as he always did for this sexy dance, but those dark eyes were fixed on me, long lashes, that sinfully sexy cologne.

“I want us back. I want you back. All of you.”

“You’re getting exactly the parts of me you wanted back,” I said. “The sweet lil housewife parts.”

He dropped his jaw, but I shifted from one side to the other and his eyes got wide when he got the tiniest glimpse of my thighs as the skirt stretched up.

“Shit, shit, that’s so hot.”

He pointed his dick up at the last second, exploding all over his belly and splattering his cum all the way up to his chin.

“Shit, I came a little early,” he gasped as cum dripped down his chest. “I—guess I was a little pent up. And you’re driving me crazy with how hot you look, baby.”

I politely said nothing.

“Do you—want me to go down on you?” he asked, wiping his hands off on a towel. “I’d freaking love to. I’m freaking pumped about that.”

“No, thank you,” I said politely. “Maybe another day.”

Maybe when hell freezes over.

He stuffed his dick back in his boxers, then fell to his knees in front of me, gripping me tightly around the legs with a fierce look on his face.

“Bitsy, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. I’m doing what you asked for.”

“What did I ask for? I didn’t ask for this!”

He looked so sad with his big, puppydog eyes. But I wasn’t tempted to change my mind.

“Yes, you did. You asked for me to be more submissive. Quieter. More of a traditional wife. Well, that’s what you’re getting.”

“Wait, I didn’t really mean that! That was a dumb thing of me to say.”