Page 13 of Claiming His Wife
I change the angle that I’m holding my phone so that my cock comes into view. She moans when she sees my hand shuttling up and down my length. “Is this what you want?”
“Yessss…”
“Put your fingers in your pussy. I want you to fuck yourself.”
Her eyes are glued to my cock as she slips two fingers into her tight hole. I imagine what the clasp of her pussy feels like. So wet and hot as she squeezes down on my length. I stroke myself harder, twisting my hand up over the head of my cock, spreading my pre-come as I do.
“Another finger. Stretch that pussy.”
Mallory groans and I nearly come seeing her pussy stretched over her dainty fingers. She can take more. I know she can. “Another.”
“I can’t… oh God… Scott… it’s too much.”
“You can. You will. Do it… stretch that pussy. Get it good and ready for my cock.”
Just like I knew they would, my words inflame her and within seconds of adding the fourth finger her body pulls taut like a bowstring, and she’s moaning her release. “Don’t stop. Keep fucking that pussy.” My cock is leaking profusely, I’m on the edge of my own climax, but I know she’s got another orgasm in her. If she keeps going, she’ll come harder than ever. “You’re going to come so hard, aren’t you?”
Beyond words, she nods her head rapidly. Her breasts heave with her heavy panting. Then she’s screaming as her pussy fucking gushes. My balls draw up tight, and I spill my release all over my hand, my stomach, my chest. My release is never-ending as I come more than I ever have. I pull my boxers off the rest of the way and use them to clean up my mess.
Mallory is collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily, her eyes closed as she recovers. Her hand is still between her legs, and she twitches every so often. If I was there, I’d lick her fingers clean. I’m filled with bitterness at the reminder that that privilege is no longer mine.
As if she can sense my mood change, Mallory’s eyes blink open, and a slow smile spreads over her lips. “That was… wow.”
And those three words lighten my mood. I can’t help but chuckle. “Wow is a bit of an understatement.”
Mallory’s cheeks flush; this time it’s not from desire but from shyness. She’s a juxtaposition of sex kitten and shy, good girl. Even after all these years, she still blushes, and I love it. I never want her to lose that sweet innocence.
We lay in our beds, miles apart, just watching each other. There are so many things to be said between us, but we are both content to just be with each other in this moment. Our problems will still be there tomorrow. It’s only when she yawns one of her jaw-cracking yawns that I reluctantly let her go with a promise to see her tomorrow.
* * *
“Dude what doyou mean you’re leaving early?” Neil doesn’t even try to hide his disapproval.
“It’s called delegation. Chuck is in charge of this campaign. I have a date with my wife.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Why bother? The bitch left you.”
Before I even realize I’ve done it, I have Neil by the collar of his shirt and shoved against the door to my office. “Watch your fucking tone. Never call my wife a bitch again. In fact, never speak of her again.”
Neil’s eyes are wide as saucers, and he stutters out his apology. I release him with a little shove.
“Jesus, dude, chill the fuck out.”
“Get out,” I growl, anger still riding me. I want nothing more than to punch the little prick, but I’ve already pushed the lines of professionalism and lost my cool which is entirely out of character for me.
Neil leaves without another word, and I quickly clear off my desk and shut down my computer. Time to woo my wife.
* * *
“Where are you taking me?”Mallory asks for the dozenth time since we left the restaurant. I don’t even try to hide my smile because I know she hates surprises. Well, she claims to hate surprises, but she actually loves them. Which is why I haven’t told her we are going to the aquarium. She loves the aquarium, and I can’t wait to see her happy smiles.
“You’ll see...”
She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest and pretends to pout, but she can’t hide the small pleased smile that keeps slipping through.
“The aquarium!?” she practically squeals bouncing excitedly in her seat as we pull into the parking lot. Then her pert little nose scrunches up, and she looks at me with consternation. “You don’t like the aquarium. Last time I suggested it you said, ‘you’ve been a half a dozen times, what more is there to see.’”
God, I’m a bastard. “I was an idiot. You love coming here, and I love being with you. Now let’s go see some fish.”