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I know I’m in good shape. I work out every morning, sixty minutes of intense weight training, followed by thirty minutes of cardio. I have the chef make me macro-portioned meals so I ensure the perfect protein, carb, and fat intake. All of that has led to a well-muscled physique with a solid six-pack.
Aida’s eyes linger over my abs, and the member continuing to swell under her gaze. It’s standing out from my body now.
“See something you like?” I ask her.
“No,” she says, stubborn as ever.
“You fucking liar.”
I step closer to her, so my erect cock brushes against her bare hip. My thigh slides between hers, slippery with soap. I thrust one hand into her thick, dark hair, wrapping the wet rope of hair around my palm and then tugging her head back so she has to look up at me.
“You fucked up our wedding night,” I tell her. “You know we’re not actually married until we sleep together.”
“I know that,” she says.
“You haven’t been eating anything else poisonous, have you?”
Before she can answer, I press my lips hard against hers once more.
When I kissed Aida at the church, it was only to finish that stupid ceremony. Now I’m kissing her because I want to taste her mouth again. I want to press my whole body against hers and run my hands over that silky tan skin.
She’s incredibly soft. I don’t know how someone with the personality of a cactus can have the softest lips, shoulders, and breasts that I’ve ever touched. I want to run my hands over every inch of her.
At first, she’s stiff and unyielding, not wanting to respond to me. But as my thigh grinds against her bare little cunt, and as I take her breasts in my hands, she gasps and her lips part, allowing me to slide my tongue inside her mouth.
Now she’s pressing back on me, grinding her pussy against my leg. She’s kissing me back, deep enough that I can taste the lingering tang of chlorine on her lips.
I slide my hand down her belly, all the way down to her bald pussy. I rub my fingers over the perfectly smooth lips, loving how bare and exposed she is. Then I part her folds and find the tiny nub of her clit, swollen from the heat of the shower. I circle my middle finger around it, reaching down to test how wet it’s making her, then returning again to the most sensitive spot.
She gasps when I touch her there and squeezes her thighs around mine, rubbing and pressing against my palm with her cunt.
I slip a finger inside of her, making her moan. She moans right into my mouth, a deep and helpless sound.
I knew it. She’s a horny little slut. She likes sex as much as I do.
That’s perfect. Because if she wants it, if she needs it, then she has to come to me. And that’s one more way I can control her.
I rub her and finger her until I can feel her legs starting to shake. Her breath quickens, and her thighs squeeze tight as she gets closer and closer to climax.
Right when she’s at the edge, I stop touching her and withdraw my hand.
“Don’t stop!” she gasps, opening her eyes and glaring at me.
“If you want to cum, then suck my cock first,” I demand.
She looks down at my cock, so hard that it juts straight out from my body.
“Fuck no,” she says. “I’ll just do it myself.”
She leans back against the shower wall, putting her hand between her thighs. Her fingers slide between her pussy lips, and she exhales softly. I grab her by the wrist and yank her hand away.
“Hey!” she shouts, eyes flashing open again.
“Suck me off, or I’m not letting you cum,” I tell her.
She glares at me, cheeks flushed from heat and from the denied orgasm. I know it’s boiling inside of her, spinning around like a cyclone. I’m sure it’s nagging at her, making her ache and throb, and hopefully feel desperate enough to do as I demand.
I put my hand on her shoulder and push her down to her knees.
