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But Anabelle’s a pleaser. She’s also a martyr, always willing to sacrifice for those around her.
“They couldn’t stop smiling all night,” Anabelle muses. “Remember when we were like that?”
“Baby, I smile every time you walk in the room.” We both know it’s a lie but Anabelle would never call me out on it.
Straddling my legs, she pulls my cock from my boxers. I flick the TV off and I lean toward my nightstand to turn out the light. From the break in our blinds, I spot the guest cottage. Dimly lit. Cozy. Romantic. My jaw tenses and my mind is flurried with a dozen worrisome concerns and a side of unexpected jealousy.
Never in a million years did I expect to see Sophie Bristol again.
Never in a trillion years did I think she’d be the one showing up on Trey’s arm today.
It took all the strength I had not to come unglued. But no good could have come from acting out on my emotions. Anabelle would’ve noticed something was off and she’d have asked questions. And Sophie would’ve had the satisfaction of getting a rise out of me. It was better to play dumb, to stare through her like she meant nothing to me while doting on sweet Anabelle.
My wife takes me in her mouth. I close my eyes. Lean back. Try to concentrate. But I’m not getting hard.
This has never happened before.
Ana’s vigor and enthusiasm tells me she notices …
Eyes clenched tighter, I narrow my concentration, envisioning the redhead in that office porn video I watched earlier this morning when the kids were with the nanny and Ana was on one of her two-hour marathon jogs.
Still nothing …
I glance toward the guest cottage again.
Trey and Sophie are probably in there christening the place from top to bottom—and I can only imagine the pleasure she’s deriving from all of this.
The thought of Sophie prancing around naked mere yards from this very room, wrapping her curved thighs around a man I couldn’t have competed with in my best of years … sends a simmer to my blood and a circuitous heat to my skin.
I rip my t-shirt off and toss it across the room.
My cock throbs, but it’s only slightly more swollen than before.
Anabelle sucks and circles harder, faster. The sooner I come, the sooner this will be over for her, but part of me wants to enjoy this bizarre little cocktail of sensations lacing my veins. One second I’m furious, jaw clenched and fists gripping the sheets. The next minute my cock expands so fast it fucking burns.
Sophie was dynamite in bed, always. She had no inhibitions. No insecurities. Willing to try anything to please me. And she was exceedingly generous with an unrivaled, insatiable libido.
At the time, I was convinced she was a phase.
I was always going to marry Ana … we were just waiting for stars to align. I never wanted children. She did. Deep down we both knew one of us would succumb to the other’s wishes eventually.
The stars aligned when Sophie discovered she was pregnant.
The way I saw it, I had two options—lose Ana forever and become the laughingstock of the Ames name when word got out that I’d knocked up a high school girl … or buy Sophie off and create the family Ana dreamed of so she’d finally agree to marry me.
The latter seemed like a win-win situation for everyone.
So while I hurt Sophie—deeply, I’m sure—in the end, it was in the best interest of all involved. Sasha is thriving and loved and she’ll never have to want for anything so long as she lives. Sophie wouldn’t have been able to give her that. She could’ve given her love. Maybe a leaking roof over her head and a handful of used books from the thrift shop. A questionable public school education. Ten hours a day at a mediocre daycare center. Store brand macaroni and cheese and processed hot dogs for dinner.
But my child deserved more than that—even if she’ll never know I’m her biological father.
I could never risk Ana finding out …
I’d have lost her for good.
My wife’s lithe body is hunched over me as she coaxes me to the edge as she’s done a thousand times before …
… but this time it’s different.
The lights go out at the cottage.
An image flashes in my head—Trey driving himself deep inside Sophie, the excitement of new love, the insatiable sex drive of a relationship not yet marred by commitment and fatherhood. And then I think of those long weekends holed up in a Chicago hotel room, Sophie worshipping my body as I feasted on hers, content with fine diners, sweet nothings, and empty promises.
My cock hardens, my body stiffens, and molten jealousy in the form of cum shoots into my wife’s throat. She swallows in one gulp and wears a smile tinged in exhausted relief before trotting off to the bathroom to clean up.
