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I looked down to see that my cock was growing. “My, look at that, you do seem to have a very green thumb.”
Laughing, she adjusted the nozzle and finished the watering. After rolling the hose back on its reel, I saw her at the patio door, shaking her head.
“We are going to track mud all through the house.”
“Then let’s at least minimize the damage,” I said, scooping her up into my arms and not setting her down until we reached our master bath. Stripping her, I dropped my pants and joined her in the shower.
“Hands on the seat, legs spread,” I instructed, turning her to face away from me. Once she’d planted her hands and shifted her feet, I thrust into her. She moaned and then yelped when I swatted her right cheek. I let her know this wasn’t punishment by rubbing the sting away. Her pussy spasmed as I added a matching handprint to her left buttock. Pumping and swatting, as she pushed back against me, it didn’t take long before I was close to coming. “Play with your clit,” I said, wrapping an arm around her waist so she wouldn’t feel unstable with only one hand to brace herself.
The sight of her fingers sliding over her clit each time I withdrew was a gift. Every time she’d bent over to pat dirt around a plant, I’d gotten glimpses of her pink pussy lips. I gentled my swats and my thrusts, giving her time to get to the point where she was begging.
“May I come, sir?”
“We’ll come together,” I said, driving deep. It didn’t take but a few strokes before she came, the walls of her cunt squeezing along the length of my shaft, drawing my own release. Pulling her up, my cock still inside her, I kissed the curve of her neck.
“Like I said, absolutely gorgeous.”
We washed each other, hands roaming, fingers stroking. I shampooed her hair, loving her purrs of pleasure as I massaged her scalp.
The water was cooling by the time we stepped out. I wrapped a towel around my waist.
“I’ll clean up the mess,” I said, wetting a washcloth in the sink.
“No, I can do that,” she protested, wrapping the ends of her towel above her breasts.
“You go ahead and dry your hair, babe,” I countered, running a hand over mine which, being short, took no time at all to dry.
“Thanks.”
Giving her a quick kiss, I left the bathroom. By the time I returned, she was wearing a sky-blue nightgown and her hair was laying in soft waves down her back. Despite her nap, she was looking a bit beat.
I pulled on a clean pair of sweat pants. “How about a sandwich and some soup?”
“I’m not really hungry, but I’ll make you one.”
“I can make it myself. Why don’t you pick a movie and curl up on the couch?”
I chuckled when I brought my plate into the living room. It seemed my little recruit had a tendency to twist my commands while still obeying them. She was curled up on the couch, sound asleep; the video she’d chosen was tucked in the hand that also cradled her cheek. Setting down my plate, I scooped her up and carried her to bed. She never stirred as I tucked her in and bent to kiss her cheek. Though it was relatively early, her day had not only started hours earlier than was normal for her, she’d exercised, run a mile, spent several hours planting her container garden, not to mention the incredible sex we’d shared. I couldn’t fault her for crashing.
Eating my dinner, I watched the rest of a ballgame and then clicked off the TV and locked up the house. I slid into bed, moving to spoon against my wife, cupping her breast and loving the soft sound of pleasure she made even in slumber. Nuzzling my lips against her shoulder, I thought about the fact that while she’d had a bit of piss and vinegar throughout the day, she reminded me of the plants in her garden. The seed of our dynamic had been planted and would take both nurturing and pruning to coax it to blossom. But, the fruit of that labor would be beautiful. I was not about to let another month, much less another year pass watching her become stressed, unhappy, and so very lost. Putting the blame where it belonged, I vowed again to become the man she needed.
