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“Those are cracks!” Wyett yelled.
“Those are veins.” Six shook her head. “And that’s a dickhead. That right there is the frenulum.”
“You’re fucking insane.” Wyett shook her head. “I was drawing that lighthouse right there.”
The lighthouse was white, not blue. And the sky was bright blue with a sun.
“And that?” I teased. “Are those supposed to be balls, or double suns?”
Wyett whirled around and glared. “They’re the sun and the sun’s shadow.”
“I don’t even know what to say,” Trouper drawled. “But that’s the most realistic dick I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“It’s a lighthouse!” she cried. “I swear to God.”
“Babe,” Lynn drawled. “That’s a dick.”
And it was.
There was no other way for it not to be a dick.
“We were talking about Hunt’s dick… maybe you got distracted and forgot what you were drawing,” Six teased.
“Painting.” Wyett sighed. “And I was thinking about my husband’s dick. I was thinking about how it was curved to the left… or so he says. But if anything, this one curves to the right.”
“It’s a matter of perspective,” Six said. “It curves to his left, but your right. When you’re down on your knees in front of him, you’re looking at his right. Not his left. Or whatever. This is why you’re not allowed to get drunk.”
That reminded me.
“Why aren’t you allowed to get drunk?” I found myself asking the woman that was beginning to mean a whole freakin’ lot to me.
A woman that I was fairly sure, after my reaction to the thought of her having a hit on her, I was in love with so irrevocably that I wasn’t quite sane when it came to her.
“Because she’s argumentative,” Six said as my wife came to me, paint streaking her face, as she pressed her body into me like a needy cat. “She likes to argue until she’s blue in the face, and the damn woman has no clue how to be appropriate. Like drawing dicks instead of lighthouses. We decided it was in our best interest to not allow her to get drunk so she could not get fired from her job.”
That made sense.
But…
Wyett once again started to move, her fingers doing the exploring this time.
“Just take her phone away from her,” I suggested. “She can still get drunk.”
“There’s another reason,” Six said, looking at me with a small smirk forming on her face.
“What?” I asked, catching Wyett’s hand before she could do anything inappropriate like touching my dick in front of the men.
Six wiggled her brows suggestively. “You’re still in the dark?”
I opened my mouth to tell her that yes, I was still very much in the dark, when Wyett moved like a ninja.
One second she was next to me with my hand holding one of hers, the next she was crouching down to her knees and reaching for my zipper with her free hand.
It took her all of three seconds to get the zipper down, and she had her hand buried in the spread of my fly before I could even put two coherent thoughts together.
“How about now?” Six asked.
I stepped back and Wyett’s arm came with me.
“Though, I have to say, Wyett is being quite a bit more forward than usual.” Six watched on with amusement. “I think that’s likely because you’re her husband. When she groped me back in the day, it was only a boob here and there.”
“She groped you?” Sin asked with amusement lacing his tone.
I gently disentangled Wyett’s hand from the fly of my jeans and zipped back up.
Though, this time my cock was much bigger and it was harder to zip up than when it’d been to let down.
The idea of taking a drunk Wyett was making me harder than a rock.
The only thing stopping me was the fact that the room was full of people that we had to see a lot, and I knew that sober Wyett wouldn’t find this anywhere near as amusing.
“Hunt!” Wyett cried when I helped her to her feet. “Why don’t you ever let me do bad things to you?”
Amusement lilted my voice as I replied. “Because you make me lose control. And a man like me needs control. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Prison had done bad things to me.
I’d always leaned toward a little bit more of non-vanilla kind of sex.
But since I’d gotten out, I’d seen no reason to hide those urges when it came to sex.
Only, I didn’t want to scare Wyett off. So, I had to go slow with her as to make her think she had control.
Make her have a sense of security before I started to do things to her that she wouldn’t know how to react to at first.
Like public sex.
When we were in that campground, and I was fucking her in the showers with Sin and Zach in there, as well as that weirdo who didn’t want to admit how much he liked hearing us have sex, it’d been downright erotic.
