“Sounds to me like you just want to have your cake and eat it, too.” I listened for the sound of Beth waking up in the room next door as TJ cupped my mound over the sheet. The girl had some sort of extrasensory “Mommy and Daddy are having sex” antenna, and inevitably woke up for a glass of water or to go to the bathroom at the most inopportune times.
TJ’s hand rocked the way he knew I loved, making me squirm. “Actually, I think it’s eat your cake and have it, too.” I rolled my eyes and snorted in the dark but shifted my hips toward him anyway. “Well, think about it. You can have your cake and eat it, but you can’t eat your cake and still have it.”
“All right, enough with the metaphor.” I reached for his cock and found it already hard, and that made me smile-although I wasn’t sure, suddenly, if it was the feel of my warming pussy under his hand that had effected him, or the conversation we’d been having about adding other people to our relationship.
The latter made me suddenly want to cry.
TJ sighed, pulling the sheet aside. “Variety… it’s the spice of life.”
“Great, my marriage is now being reduced to a cliche.” I slid my mouth down his belly, breathing warmth over the head of his cock and nibbling a little at the head, making him jump.
“I’m not talking about reducing it…” He groaned when my tongue slipped through the already wet slit at the tip. “I’m talking about expanding it.”
“To include another woman?” I went back to nibbling, my teeth raking down his shaft.
“Other people, yes.” His hand lost itself in the dark mass of my hair, pulling me back a little.
I sighed. “I don’t want to see other people.”
“Come on, Ronnie…” His hand massaged my scalp, his eyes tender but questioning. “We’ve been married for almost seven years. You can’t tell me you’ve never been attracted to anyone else? I
“Just because I’m attracted to someone doesn’t mean I’m going to act on it.”
TJ’s eyes searched mine, lazily rubbing the head of his cock back and forth against my lower lip. “But why not?”
“Because we made a commitment.” I raked my teeth lightly across the spongy tip and he jumped.
“Don’t be so literal.” He rolled me over, pressing his weight onto me, opening my legs. I acquiesced with a sigh, loving the feel of his hardness rubbing up and down between my slit, but hating his words. “Our commitment is what we say it is…” His lips murmured against the pulse in my throat and I let my fingers brush the fine hairs at the back of his neck, soft as a baby. “I’m not talking about not loving you. I’m talking about sex.”
His words were supposed to reassure me, but I felt my throat constrict.
“So basically, you’re saying I’m not enough for you.”
“No, baby.” He rocked, slow and easy-god, he knew how I loved that, opening me, a slow split, a gentle friction, up and up. “You’re more than enough…”
More reassuring words-but why didn’t I feel reassured? His mouth covered mine, the kiss deep and searching, his tongue slowly drawing me in, drawing me out, teasing me as he rubbed his stiff heat between my thighs. It throbbed there, insistent, making me squirm.
“God, you’re so sweet…” His words were hot against my ear now, his teeth gently biting and tugging at the lobe. “I never want you to think you’re not enough, you’re so very much more than enough…”
His cock found me with a shift of his hips, seeking entrance, and I gasped as he slid forward until he felt resistance, about halfway there. His breath caught and he gave a low moan that went through me like shiver, and still, he didn’t stop talking, telling me… “There’s no other woman like you. I want you and I want to share you, baby. I want the whole world to know how good you are, how sweet, how fucking hot…” He pulled back and plunged forward, so deep I clutched his shoulders, digging my nails in. TJ’s eyes sought mine, dark and full of hunger.
“How fucking
It was true. It had been true from the first time we were face to face like this, much sooner than I had ever planned or anticipated-the rain had soaked us to the skin, but we hardly noticed as we peeled each other’s clothes off and ended up on his living room futon instead of the big, soft bed upstairs in his room.
It wasn’t the tender or gentle or sweet thing I’d imagined-although he was all those things at turns-instead it was mostly heat and friction between us, a desperate need for more, always more with him. I could never get enough.
