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As I lathered my body, I thought on the many times he could’ve walked away but didn’t.

He had every opportunity to go and find someone else.

There wasn’t anyone better but still. I wasn’t and never would be the wife everyone wanted me to be.

I was his wife and knew exactly what he needed.

Our relationship was built of pure love and trust. Testing that wasn’t necessary.

Tristan was a man of security. He provided it for me, and I returned the energy. It was never a question on where we wanted to be after the gifts were exchanged because we knew where our hearts lied. He was the only nigga I would put my life on the line for, and I knew he would do the same for me.

Time passed and I was stepping out the shower moments later wrapped in a towel.

I proceeded to turn on the water for my husband's bath while I was next to it.

I then did a quick dry off before slipping into my robe and jogging back downstairs to check the food.

The cabbage had cooked down and was ready to go.

Opening the oven door, I inspected the macaroni and saw it was also done.

I slid it back in and turned off the oven.

His meal was complete and ready to be plated.

I was back upstairs within minutes moisturizing my skin. Tristan loved when I walked around in damn near nothing. He enjoyed the view and never hid his attraction. That was something that boosted my confidence daily. As long as I made him drool over me effortlessly, my heart was content.

No sooner than I slipped on my heels, I heard him call out for me.

I smiled and sashayed my way back downstairs to where he stood.

Tristan’s skin was just as dark, rich, and enticing.

With his beard being full along with his lips and brows, I couldn’t focus on just one thing.

My pussy jumped simply from the smell of him so taking him in from head to toe only made her do summersaults.

The second he was in reach, I threw my arms around his neck as his tightened around my waist. Whenever he held me, I found myself melting. It felt damned good being in his embrace. It was a feeling I could never forget.

We shared a kiss that caused my juice box to drip. His cologne was temporarily paralyzing while his roaming hands assisted my frozen state. There would never be a time another man could have me on the verge of cummin’ from a simple kiss. My husband had it like that.

“I missed you,” I softly spoke, giving his beard a light massage.

“Likewise.”

His face was planted against my neck and more soft kisses were administered. One thing I learned fast was his love language. Physical touch satisfied him better than any meal I fixed. As long as he could touch me, he was content and at peace.

Like I knew he would, he asked for some pussy, and I had to deny him a serving.

Being in the red zone was torture for us both but safer for me.

I didn’t want to jeopardize a bitch ass thing.

I only had one vagina at the end of the day and Tristan could throw me out of commission without even trying.

“Your bath water is ran. Go get cleaned up so you can spend time with your wife. I won’t have any of you tomorrow, so excuse my greediness for you.”

“It’s one day, Mama. I promise she won’t get fucked the same way you do. My strokes have meaning when I’m digging in you. It’s not the same for them.”

“You better believe I know that shit already,” I said freeing myself and walking toward the kitchen.

“I still get dessert?” he asked.

“Always.” When it came to eating me, I would never make him starve. His face was my second favorite place to sit.

I patiently waited for my husband to return for dinner. Thirty minutes slipped right on by, and I found myself yearning to taste him. I couldn’t help myself. Knowing he wanted to devour me had my entire body on fire. I needed him to make me cum… like now.

“Mr. Malore!” I shouted. My call out went unanswered so I called out for him again, getting the same result.

I felt ignored but was quickly shown he was on the same type of timing.

He came around the corner ass naked with that third leg being stroked slowly.

My eyes traveled along his long frame from head to toe.

A pulse formed between my legs as soon as my eyes rested on his center.

I couldn’t help but salivate over the pipe game he possessed.

“My sweet tooth acting up right now, Mama. I need you to handle that.” His eyes locked with mine, and I silently heard that man ask me to spread my legs.

I pushed his meal to the center of the table, pulled down my lace panties, stepped out of them, then took a seat in front of his chair.

He crossed the room, dick still in hand, stopping directly in front of me.

I replaced his hand with mine, causing him to growl lowly as I continued to administer gentle strokes.

“You making it real hard not to fuck you on this table, Mrs. Malore.”

A small smile graced my lips as my ego was lightly stroked. “Make me cum, so I can swallow dick already.”

“As you wish.”

I was gently pushed back before he took a seat.

My feet sat on the arms of the chair as he leaned in and let his tongue explore my kitty.

The warmth it provided against my clit sent chills through my body.

My back arched immediately, and I knew our anniversary night was about to be a jealous one.

This man wanted to fuck me, and I wanted him to in return.

I wasn’t allowed to move until he was satisfied. All he wanted was to taste my cum. It was like an ongoing reward he didn’t have to work so hard for. My body reacted to him off the union we built.

“Sweet ass pussy,” he voiced against my folds.

He never went without complimenting me during a session. One way or another, he was going to tell me what I did to him, how he felt about me, or how good I tasted. It was something I looked forward to.

With two fingers sliding in my opening, he continued to attack my pearl while he massaged my walls.

My eyes closed on impact, enjoying the sensational attention given.

I palmed the top of his head and slowly rode his fingers.

I was in heaven and we both knew the end result.

Exuding my fluids didn’t take much work, especially when Tristan was in control.

My rose made me cum in thirty seconds flat, but my husband made me cum in ten.

“Fuuuuuuck!” I cried out as he held my clit hostage.

He slurped on my juices as they shot to the back of his throat. I wasn’t a creamer so making a mess was the normal. However, my husband wanted every drop of me tonight, and I didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t be able to have any parts of me until next week.

“Nah, you owe me more than that,” he said zoning back in on my clit. With his fingers still inside, they curled up and rubbed on my g-spot. He wasn’t going to let me leave here without knowing who I belonged to.