Page 24

24

Andre

“Y ou held my therapist at gunpoint?” Stella exclaims when she charges into the apartment. Today she’s wearing a cream sweater dress that hits mid-thigh and sexy knee-high brown leather boots. It takes me several seconds to remember how to speak at the sight of her. I’m also happy to see one of the coats I bought her tossed on the ground with her purse before she barrels toward me at the dining table.

Oh, and she is seriously pissed too. I should’ve known the bookish-looking therapist would tell her everything.

“Hello to you, too, wife,” I reply from my seat at the head of the table, where I was waiting for her to get home before tasting a single bite. Franco texted she was headed back to the apartment ten minutes ago.

Before I can say another word, Stella shouts in my face, “You had no right!” Leaning over, her arm sweeps my plate of baked ziti, bowl of salad, and bottle of beer clear off the table where it all clatters against the nearby wall, causing tomato sauce and yellow fizz to ooze down the beige paint.

Okay, then. Guess dinner will have to wait a little longer.

“I had every fucking right. What if she was a mouthy bitch who would sell you out for a few bucks? If you want to throw a fit, fine. It’s sexy as hell.” Pointing my finger at the mess, my voice lowers when I tell her, “But when this argument is over, you are going to clean every drop of that shit up and make me something else to eat for dinner.”

A scoff mixed with non-humorous laughter leaves her beautiful mouth as she straightens and stares down at me. Her eyes are full of venom and a bit of something else I can’t put my finger on. “Oh, I’ll give you something to fucking eat.”

In a moment that feels like I’m in a wet dream, so un-fucking-believable I’m certain this is just a fantasy playing in my mind, Stella slips into the tight space between me and the table. Her fingernails scratch down the sides of my beard as her lips crash against mine. I eagerly open my mouth for her, shocked she’s initiating a kiss. Not just any kiss, one so hot that her urgent thrusting tongue makes me instantly hard. I tightly clutch the arms of the chair on either side of me, desperate to touch her, but knowing to keep them off her before she gives me permission.

A moment later, Stella hops on the table, her ass sitting right at the edge in her short dress. Her legs spread so wide I can see her pretty blue and white lace panties. While I’m distracted by the sight, she fists my tie, pulling me forward and half-choking me. I nearly come in my pants right then when her other palm cups the back of my head, shoving my face between her thighs.

God, yes. I know exactly what she’s asking for.

No, not asking.

Demanding.

I breathe her in, rubbing my nose over the crotch of her panties, as her inner thighs hold my head hostage. I swipe my tongue over the rough lace, making Stella gasp as her hips jerk forward.

“Can I take your panties off and touch you?” My fingers are about to break the chair arms.

“Hell yes,” she shouts, and I take action. Rubbing up the outside of her legs with both hands, I grab the string of her panties with my fingertips and jerk them down her thighs. Stella doesn’t close her legs, and I hear a rip as I stretch the material to get them over her shoes and off.

“God, I love your tall boots.” I slide my palms up the smooth leather.

“Shut up and lick me,” my wife huffs impatiently. Yanking on my tie she directs my face again to her now bare pussy.

While I can’t wait to taste her, I take a moment to tease her, turning my head to kiss her inner thigh on one side, then the other as she grumbles in annoyance. Before I begin devouring her, I lift her left knee over my shoulder, then the right, settling in for at least a three-course meal. Three orgasms, no less tonight. I want her limp and fully sated, laid out on our dining table still shaking when I’m done.

And hopefully, so blissed out she lets me fuck her.

I lick her up and down her slit, groaning at how wet she is, how good she tastes, before fluttering my tongue over her clit.

“Oh, god!” she cries out as I get part of my wish. Stella’s arched back hits the table, taking my tie with her until it’s so snug I can barely swallow. I’m too turned on to care.

Her fingers fist in my hair, pressing my mouth closer to her body as her pelvis lifts off the table, seeking more of my tongue like she missed the hell out of it.

Stella comes so damn fast from me rapidly flicking my tongue. I don’t let up, though. Instead, while her thighs are still trembling, I shove a finger inside of her and curl it as I keep licking her.

A moment later, she’s coming again, this time screaming my name. My finger pumps in and out of her as her spasms ebb.

“Mmm,” she moans and squirms while trying to pull my head away from her pussy. “I-I need…”

“You need to come on my tongue again.” I blow on her clit before resuming my ministrations, adding a finger so I’m fucking her with two. Each time I barely touch the tip of my tongue to her sensitive flesh, her hips jerk. She shouts and moans louder and louder, the sweetest music to my ears.

She finally lets my tie go as her head falls back, leaving the silk over her bare stomach when she tugs her dress up and over her head. She wrenches down the lace cups of her bra, which match her blue and white panties. As her hips roll toward me, her hands squeeze her bare tits which is so damn hot I know without a doubt my boxer briefs must be getting damp.

* * *

Stella

My entire body is on fire in the best way possible. God, how does this man know exactly how to touch me, to lick me, to make me lose my damn mind?

I’ve always had a temper, but there’s something about arguing with Andre that turns my anger into lust. I shouldn’t find it hot he threatened my therapist. I was jealous he went to see Annie.

Which is ridiculous.

Even if I don’t trust him completely, I trust her not to screw around with my husband.

And my jealously and anger combined, apparently, turn me into a nympho.

Not that Andre seems to mind as his tongue continues licking me, his fingers curling in that perfect way to make me explode again on the dining table. My arousal is, no doubt, dripping onto the spot where Andre’s dinner was set.

While I enjoy making him pleasure me without offering him anything in return, I still find myself saying, “I need you, Andre.” I want more than his mouth and fingers.

“Fuck, yes. I need you too, baby.” He stands from his chair, towering over me with his facial hair around his lips glistening. His hands go to his belt, undoing it in a hurry. “I’m going to bend you over this table and fuck you so damn good.”

I’m so enthralled, watching as he lowers his zipper to free his long dick, that it takes longer than usual for his words to sink in. When they do, I respond with one word. “No.”

“No, I can’t fuck you?”

Sitting up on the edge of the table, I fist his swollen shaft, stroking it a few times until his eyes slam closed in pleasure. Then, I line him up with my entrance. After he slides in the first inch, the discussion about positions is officially over. Andre won’t pull out again until I’ve milked every drop from him. The thought of him being inside me again as he finishes turns me on like nothing else and has my walls clenching around him as I lie back.

“Jesus, Stella,” Andre groans. He leans over me, claiming my mouth and tasting like my arousal, as he works his way in and out of my body. Once he’s fully sheathed, he groans and swears against my lips. My arms wrap around his back, hands clutching him through his button-down shirt, pulling him closer and wanting more of his weight pressing down on me. He slams inside me faster and faster, his tongue in my mouth keeping the same pace. Each deep stroke is harder than the previous one, and it feels so fucking good.

When our lips break apart so we can both suck in some much-needed air, I whisper, panting against his ear, “I want you…to come so hard…that you drip from me for days.”

“Fuck yes,” Andre growls, his thrusts losing their rhythm for a moment as if he’s already about to blow.

Enjoying how easily I can make him lose control, I go on. “I love how thick and hot your cum feels…pulsing so deep inside me.”

“Oh fuck!” he shouts as he does exactly what I said, filling me up so good, setting off yet another orgasm for me.

I’ve lost count. Is that the fourth one today?

After the tremors stop, and Andre is no longer twitching from the pleasure, he pushes himself up and slowly pulls out of me. I instantly miss his warm, heavy body on and inside me.

Looking between my legs with his bearded jaw clenched tight, his fingertips tickle along my slit, then just barely penetrate me over and over again. It takes me a moment to realize he’s trying to push his leaking cum back inside me.

God, he must really want to knock me up. What I don’t understand is why? Is he really in such a hurry to become a father?

“I’m probably not ovulating anymore,” I tell him, so he knows he’s wasting his time.

“But you might be.” Andre presses his fingers to my entrance and leaving them there, as if walling off his sperm’s escape. He slowly leans over, his weight returning to me while he kisses me. He keeps his hand in place the whole time, the heel pressing against my clit.

So, it’s not really a surprise when I come, yet again, on his hand while we kiss.

I pull my mouth from his on a harsh gasp. Andre’s chuckle is one of pure masculine pride before his damp lips find my neck. “That’s right, baby. Your pussy wants to pull my cum so deep it never leaves you.”

“Mmm,” I agree.

“They should make a cork for pussies,” he remarks, causing me to blink at him with a smile.

“What?”

“Like a cork to hold the cum inside.”

“Oh my god,” I mutter, scrubbing my palms over my face.

“I have an idea. Stay right there.” Andre stalks off down the hall, holding up his pants while he fastens them.

Lying here is fine with me, since I’m not sure my legs are capable of standing yet. I do fix the cups of my bra, embarrassed I got so turned on I played with my breasts.

When Andre returns, I can’t see what he’s carrying in his fist.

From the end of the table, he smirks at me, then I feel the pressure of something being shoved in me.

“What the…” Knocking his hands away, I sit up and feel around down there. It takes several seconds for me to realize what he stuffed into my entrance. “You put in my diva cup?”

“It’s the only thing I could think of that’s meant to be inside you and keep everything in there…”

“You’re insane.”

But I don’t remove it.

“Why are you in such a hurry to knock me up?” I ask him as I find my dress and pull it back on.

“So that every man who sees your growing belly knows you’re mine. Once you have my baby, there’s no getting rid of me.”

My jaw drops. “You want to get me pregnant to tie me to you for the rest of my life?”

“That’s why I married you too.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Did you really think I would let you walk away from me with my kid?”

Before I can respond, Andre grips the back of my neck and kisses me. His tongue is like magic, making my limbs weak and my mind go blank as I physically melt for him.

With him standing between my legs, it doesn’t take long to feel another bulge in his pants. God, he’s ready to go again? And will I ever get used to how big he is at full mast? Probably not. No wonder my husband insists on oral before trying to ram it into me.

Andre keeps hold of my neck, and his other arm bands against my back, hauling me off the table. I guess we’re going to continue this in the bedroom.

I don’t have a chance to wrap my legs around his waist or grab his neck before he lowers my feet down to the floor. I’m confused for a moment. My legs are so wobbly that when Andre squeezes my nape and pushes me down, I quickly drop to my knees before him.

I wet my lips in anticipation of what I assume he wants from me. But then he releases my neck and steps away, out of reach. “When you’re finished cleaning up the mess you made and have dinner ready, let me know. I’ll be in my office.” He turns and walks away.

What. The. Fuck.

“Wait,” I say, making his feet pause in the hallway. “How about you clean it up after you fuck my mouth?”

My husband chuckles. “Nice try, but that’s not how you make a baby. I’d rather save up another load for your pussy. I couldn’t resist filling your belly in my office, but now, I’ll hold out until you’re either pregnant or it’s that time of the month.” With that, he strolls down the hall, undoing his tie.

Well, shit.

I never thought I’d rather have Andre in my mouth than cook and clean for him.

Or he’d refuse a blowjob.

This marriage of ours is not turning out how I expected.