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I wanted to tell her that surprise had long passed when she revealed that information on our wedding day, but I knew better than to irritate the pregnancy-hormone-riddled bear.
Ready to move on with this weirdness, I stepped forward, the Supercock aching and downright fluffing confused that I was currently cutting a goddamn bakery treat instead of taking off the sexy little sundress my wife was currently wearing, and forced another smile to my lips as I pushed the knife into the cake.
Once a slice was cut, I slid it out to reveal…white cake and white icing.
What the fluff?
I glanced over my shoulder to find Cassie staring down at the cake, her head tilted to the side.
“Well, that’s strange,” she mused. “I wonder if they got my order wrong?”
“Baby, I don’t know who you talked to at these places, but it’s apparent they really dropped the ball.”
I searched her face, carefully waiting for the big gender re-reveal fail to hit, but to my surprise, it never came.
No tears. Or sad pout. Not even a threat of murdering me.
Instead, Cass looked…happy.
What in the hell is going on?
I started to get worried that whatever appointment she’d had was actually a frontal lobe removal she forgot to tell me about, but when she turned one of the dining chairs around and told me to take a seat, my confusion reached an all-time high.
“Thatcher,” she demanded. “Sit your ass down.”
On a sigh, I set the knife back on the table and did as she asked, even though I hadn’t a fucking clue what she was going to do next.
“You know,” she said and paced back and forth in front of my chair. “I think I might’ve gotten a little mixed up.”
I just sat there and kept my mouth shut. I knew better than to make any sarcastic comments right now.
“What do you think, honey?” she questioned and met my eyes. “Do you think that maybe I…have something else planned?”
“Uh…I don’t know… But I do know that whatever you have planned, I’ll fluffing love.”
“You’re such a liar,” she said through a snort. “You are so fucking confused right now, and I’m loving every second of it.”
I tilted my head to the side. “What are you trying to say, Crazy?”
“I’m saying that the real gender reveal is about to start right now,” she said, her voice dropping to the sexy kind of level that made the Supercock take notice again. Discreetly, without revealing anything, she reached up under her dress and slid her panties down her thighs, kicking them off and right toward my head.
I caught them in my hand and smirked.
She wasn’t done, though.Nope.Her pink-painted fingertips grazed down the front of her sexy little sundress, over her full breasts, and didn’t stop until they gripped the edge of the flowy material resting at her upper thighs. “The real gender reveal is actuallyright under here.”
“Right there?” I asked, my eyes fixated on the way her hands ever-so-slightly started to lift up her dress.
“Uh-huh.” She nodded. Bit her lip. Smirked like a fucking seductress.
It was all the Supercock needed to go from half-mast to full-on flagpole.
I watched on as my wife moved her dress up her thighs, and I was thankful she didn’t stop until she removed it from her body completely.
Standing there, completely naked, Cassie looked like a fucking goddess.
And when I slowly moved my eyes down her body, over my favorite set of tits on the planet, I didn’t stop until I reached the apex of her thighs.
Holy. Fluffing. Shit.
