AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My wife's arousal perfuming the steam around us does little to help with my sanity, making me slam over and over up inside her. She rolls her pelvis upward with each of my thrusts.
One of my strokes hits her sweet spot particularly hard, and Mia immediately starts to go off, her cunt milking my cock as her fingers dig into my back.
Her head lolls back, and my hand immediately goes to cradle her nape before she hits the tiles.
Her body wracks with spasms of pleasure as she clings to me and cries out my name like it's a mantra. I fucking love it.
I grunt, my balls pulling up.
Everything about her –the tightening of her muscles, the brushing of her nipples against my chest, and her breathy moans –is driving me into a frenzy.
I tap her left shoulder once to let her know that I’mthis closeto heaven.
She clutches me against her even tighter. “Me, too, baby… so, so good! Don’t stop! Oh, Carson!”
I growl, pushing and pulling her on and off my cock even harder, my balls slamming against the supple curve of her ass with each thrust.
I squeeze her left arm three times to let her know that I got her, and she climaxes, dragging me with her. Her sizzling walls clench around my throbbing length, making me hiss in pleasure-pain and ripping the breath from my lungs, and it’s just too much for me.
I veritably growl as I drive home one last time, pleasure nearly blinding me. I hold my ever-swelling cock deep inside her pussy and let go, a thick, hot stream of seed shooting hard in her quivering sheathe.
For a moment, we stay just like that, catching our breath, then I realize the water is starting to go luck-warm, and I pull her from the bench. She stumbles a little, her legs still too wobbly to hold her up, and I drag her into my chest under the spray.
We quickly wash off, then I turn off the water and the light system and step out of the stall, carrying her in my arms, her head resting on my shoulder. I set her on the fuzzy carpet and let my lips fall on hers as I reach for a towel.
She’s shivering a little and looks like she’s about to crash any second now. So I wrap her in the fluffy terrycloth and start to gently rub her down.
My wife takes a towel off the rack herself and begins to pat my chest and arms dry, yawning adorably as she goes.
I smile down at her as I pick her up again and walk us out of the en-suite bathroom and back to our bed.
We don’t even bother completely drying off and just drop on the mattress. My wife immediately cuddles to my side and goes to sleep, murmuring how much she loves me.
I stroke her face and then lift her head from her pillow to drape a towel over it before letting her rest back on it. I gather her wet hair in it and twist it around the way she taught me to make a turban of some kind so that the moisture doesn’t seep into the pillowcase and she can be comfortable.
Then I throw my arms around her, kissing her temple as I, too, lie down.
In the semi-darkness of the room, I grin, my lips still held against her skin. I feel perfectly content, and the world outside these walls ceases to matter as I keep her in the protective circle of my arms.
God, I love my woman so much. I love her like I didn’t even know I was capable of. I love her like I can’t wait for her to open her eyes again, even after a moment without seeing their light shining on me.
I didn’t even know this kind of love could exist, let alone thought I could ever deserve it, and yet here I am. Right here, right now.
This is life. This is bliss. This is all ours.
Epilogue 3
MIA
One year later…
Itiptoe to our bedroom door and crack it open to peer inside.
My husband is lying on our bed exactly as I left him more than six hours ago: face planted in the middle of my pillow, slightly titled to the side with one arm thrown on top of it and the other under it, the fingers of one hand —his strumming one– splayed against the upholstered headboard, large body diagonally spread over the wide expanse of the king-sized mattress that manages to look tiny and uncomfortable under his impressively tall and muscular nude frame, sheets tangled with his legs.
He hasn’t moved an inch, poor love.
The boys have definitely slowed down as promised, and they approach their tours in the healthiest way possible now, but no matter how careful and conscientious they are about it, life on the road is still tiring as hell and weighs heavily on their bodies. They schedule in as many breaks as possible and rest as much as they can, and they try not to overdo it, but they still have to perform on a stage for over two hours every two or three days top while touring the various venues. Then there are the sound checks, the rehearsals, the interviews backstage, and the actual traveling. And then there's the performance anxiety, the stress, and the release from these feelings after the show is done. All things that contribute to making my man and his best friends tired.
