Birthday Sweets

birthday sweets june 13 2018.jpg

Birthday Sweets

an Emery&Chris story

by avenger-nerd-mom

On a secluded boat dock, Chris and Emery celebrate his 37th birthday together

Warnings: NSFW, language, cunnilingus, anal fingering, intercourse

Word Count 2781

June 2018

Humming a little tune, Chris clears up their trash, throwing the items back in the picnic basket. Looking at his watch, he gets a little concerned, wondering what’s keeping Emery so long. Tossing the bread crumbs in the lake he watches as small fish swarm around, trying to get their fill. He smiles when he hears her steps pounding down the dock. Turning to watch her, his heart fills with pride at her beauty and grace, hidden under a flirty summer sundress, and criss-crossed tan lines on her shoulders. His face lights up. “Why didn’t you just go behind the tree?” he teases.

She stops dead in her tracks, hand on her hip, the other hiding behind her back. “Because, I’m a lady,” she quotes, “that’s why!”

Falling forward gently from his squatting position, he lands on his knees, resting his fists on his thighs. He effects the same accent from one of their favorite Disney movies, and asks, “What’s hiding behind your back?”

She giggles. Returning her voice to her casual Southern drawl, she replies, “Well, I know you said you didn’t want cake until all the family comes down this weekend, so-” Emery swings her arm around, presenting a small gift bag, “here’s a little something till then.”

She steps forward, kicking off her sandals and handing it to him, before carefully sitting on the edge of the plaid blanket. He peers down into the bag and lets out a whoop of excitement. “From Leopold’s?” He asks, pulling out a travel container of ice cream.

She grins, happily nodding and pulling out two spoons from her pocket. She’d arranged for his favorite flavors to be packaged up from their favorite shop in Savannah to make the journey without him even knowing. “There’s more up in the cabin. This is the rum cake one.”

Pulling the lid off carefully, he licks the smear of melted cream stuck to the top. “You really are the best birthday party planner ever, Em. How’d I get so lucky to find you?”

She shrugs her shoulders as he rocks back again, landing on his butt and crossing his legs ‘indian-style’ to sit on the dock. “We have had a good day, haven’t we? Sleeping in, hiking, swimming-”

“Getting sunburned-”

“We’ll put more aloe on later,” she says, dipping her spoon in the small cup when he passes it to her. “I kept telling you to put on more sunscreen.”

He points his spoon to the water, pointing out where a fish  jumped out above the surface. She nods, acknowledging she saw it. “Just more proof you’ll make a great mom someday. You’ve had plenty of practice with me.” She bristles at his comment. “I know, I know. You’re not my mother,” he chuckles, bumping her shoulder. “But you are good at taking care of people, making them feel special.” He waves his hand wildly. “All this… I feel so loved.”

She scoots forward, dropping her legs over the edge of the dock. “Because you are.”

“I am, and I feel it every day. I am really lucky to have you.” He holds the cup to her again, and she takes another spoonful. He watches as she slowly licks the spoon, savoring the flavor before pulling it off with her tongue. “Still can’t believe you rented out the whole damn place; it’s awesome.”

“Well, you were fussing on me to be more extravagant and relax about money. I didn’t want anything for myself, so spending it on you seemed logical. Besides, it’s not like I really rented out the whole place. Another couple was supposed to be here, but the owner said Saturday when I talked to her they canceled, and no one else was booked. She said it’s ‘cause of the draught, and the water is too low for boats to get back up in here.” Emery reaches for another spoonful of ice cream. She yelps when a fish nibbles her toe, and she kicks her feet like crazy to scare them away. “That’s when I told the lady not to rent out the other cabins, and we settled on a price.” She swipes away a dragonfly buzzing around her head.

“When I told you to spend money, I didn’t mean on me. But I like we enjoy this together. It’s good we like the same outdoorsy things.”

She bites her lip to hide her smile. Turning towards him, she lays her spoon down, finished with the ice cream. She raises her eyebrow. “I like doing other kinds of outdoor things with you as well.”

Chris laughs, the sound bouncing off the water, and echoing back. “Oh, really?” He sets down the finished ice cream cup. “What did you have in mind?”

Emery grabs his ankle and untucks his feet, pulling his leg out straight as she begins to climb up his body. He leans back on his elbows, watching her prowl. She pauses, tugging on the hem of his shorts. “These pants are ridiculous,” she says.

“Scott picked them out,” he smiles.

She shakes her head. “Ya know, I knew from the first night we met, I liked you. Wanna know why?” He nods and she continues. “One of the first things you said to me, that got you in trouble, was when you quoted dating advice from your brother. I thought, ‘that’s a guy that loves his family no matter what’ and I knew we’d get along. But, uh,” she runs her hands over the buttons on his shirt, “don’t take fashion advice from your gay brother either.”

“I thought I looked good? You complained I looked too much like a ‘dude bro’ the other day at lunch?” He smiles, watching her hands as she pushes against his chest, flattening him to the dock.

She rolls her eyes, resting her body on his belly and sitting up. He places his hands on her thigh, her skin warm from the summer sun. “That restaurant was too fancy for you to be wearing workout gear and a frat-boy ball cap… And yes, you do look good right now.” She reaches down and scratches his scruffy chin. “Like ‘Harvard Hottie’ grew up and became a professor. I like it.” She moans softly as his hands grace up her legs, higher and higher.

“Em!” In total disbelief, he asks, “Did you leave something back at the cabin?”

“Yup!” She pops the letter ‘p,’ lifting her skirt and flashing him, showing off she’s already wet.

His hands slide under her, lifting her from his chest. “I really like this new, playful, horny as hell, wife I have. I should turn thirty-seven all the time,” he growls, bringing her forward.

She scoots her knees along, following his lead, and he watches her excited smile grow. The fading sunlight casts a warm glow as it drifts through the trees. He wants to freeze time, to make every moment count. He kneads her ass, pulling at the soft flesh. Pushing her higher, she lifts her knees over his shoulders one at a time, her feet resting on his biceps and toes curling under his arms. Wrapping his hands over her thighs, he spreads her succulent pink lips. “Is this present just for me?”

He kisses her thigh on the left, as she murmurs her approval. Blowing out cool air across her exposed sex, he moves across to kiss her on the right. He lifts his head, running the tip of his nose against the delicate skin of her inner thighs. Her skin rises into goosebumps despite the humid air.

“You still hungry?” she asks, voice husky and skittish with anticipation.

“I believe I am.” He paws at her with his strong hands, bringing them together to meet, pushing his thumbs against her clit as she gasps. Forcing her down, her ass rests on his clavicles while his tongue dips in the sweet well. With a languorous lick from front to back, he grips her thighs firmly. Holding her tight so she can’t squirm away, he repeats the action again and again. Her sweet juice floods his tongue, replacing the faint flavoring of the ice cream treat. “So lickable,” he moans quietly, probing gently with his tongue.

Leaning back with her hands grabbing his pecs, she grinds herself against his mouth and chin. He knows the beard is an added sensual bonus. Peeling his eyes open, he sees nothing but the setting sun, low in the sky, shades of pink and purple. His attentions bring forth quiet pants and cries from his lovely wife, and the sound causes a tightening in his pants. “Louder, Kitten, there’s no one around to hear you.”

“Mmmhm,” Emery moans, breathing hard and gripping the sides of his ribcage. Her manicured nails scrape his shirt and he wished there was less clothing between them.

Slowly blinking his eyes closed, his tongue laps through her again. Tasting her inner core, his nose grazes her clit. She jumps in his arms, leaning forward and pushing his head away from the sensitive spot. “Baby,” he chuckles, opening his mouth wider for a soothing lick, easing the sensitive spot.

Wanting to thoroughly please her, he closes his mouth sloppily over her lips, teasing with his tongue. Imitating a French kiss, he explores her delicious pussy. His beard is wet with her dew and he swallows the flood, wondering how long she’ll last.

Gently she reaches down, caressing the top of his head, running her hands through his hair. “You’re gonna make me come.” Massaging his scalp, she lifts his head, pushing him deeper into the wet pool, barely able to breathe.

Chris’s hands grip her ass, squeezing and pulling her close. Her hands at the back of his head, tug and pull his hair, moving his head back and forth. His tongue flicks in and out, caressing against her clit and against the side of her swollen lips. She falls forward, supporting herself with one hand while the other still plays in his hair. Her shift brings her closer to his mouth and lifts her ass into the air. His hands clench the rounded bubble, pulling her cheeks apart as his tongue continues to work. Trapped under her, his movement is limited. But it’s the best place to be! Her sounds grow louder as she rides his face, grinding in a circular sway. Gathering her slick, he wets his thumb and brushes across her taint at the same time his lips gently suction over her clit. Tenderly, he tortures her with his mouth, sucking and pulling an orgasm from her as he teases her pulsing asshole with his thumb.

Seduced by the added pressure, her tiny cries grow louder. Leaning forward on both elbows, her pussy pulls away. Lifting his head, he keeps their contact as she calls out, “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Her legs spread wider and his thumb eases in, up to his knuckle. The release of fluids is too much to swallow, but he laps up what he can as she continues to ride his face. She pushes her ass against his palm, his thumb gliding in deeper and his lips slide free from her dripping cunt. “Fuck me, now,” she purrs, laughing at her command.

His beard is liberally coated with her runoff and his thumb remains trapped inside her hole. Crawling out from under her, he quickly swipes his face against the plaid picnic blanket. “We really should camp more often,” he chuckles. He slowly rolls his hand around, twisting out his thumb, watching the tiny hole close back up. He playfully nips his teeth across her tight ass, giving it a smack for good measure. Rolling to his side, seeing her stance, his stomach tightens.

Her beautiful backside is in the air, and she’s positioned her legs back together. Her spine arches and she’s resting forward, collapsed on her arms. The flowered sundress is bunched around her waist and one of the straps hangs down her arm. Glistening in the setting sun, her ripe juice runs down her inner thighs. “Don’t move,” he growls, unbuckling his belt quickly and pulling his pants down to his knees. With a few quick pumps of his hand, he’s hard and ready. Crawling towards her, he leans forward, running his tongue up her thigh and catching a drop of her sweet release. He positions himself behind her, guiding his hard cock through the wet mess.

“Chris, don’t play, come on and fuck me,” she says, reaching over her shoulder and twisting her hair up, off her neck.

He can see beads of sweat laced along her neckline, and he bends over her, blowing a cooling breath across the back of her neck and shoulders as he slips his thick head between her lips. The walls of her pussy hug his cock, sucking him in, molding around him. Made for each other. A perfect fit. “What a gift,” he sighs as he pushes deeper, bottoming out. He stills while she shifts her weight, bunching the blanket up under her knees. He looks around, having forgotten they’re outside, on a boat dock in a deserted campground. Fireflies have begun to zoom around as the sky turns to dusk and tree frogs begin their nightly sounds. “Do you see this, Em? It’s beautiful.”

She giggles, lifting her head up to look around, and back at him. “It is; we should fuck outside more often.” Her mirth rings out and she begins to slide off and on his cock.

Chris guides her, one hand on her hip, the other on her shoulder, pulling her into him. The sound of their skin slapping together and her whines each time he thrusts into her, expelling her breath, fills the night. As their lovemaking continues, he senses her frustration, knowing her so well. His knees are killing him on the hard, wooden surface, but neither of them are quitters. He slides his hand from her shoulder, grasping at her breast. Working his fingers under the dress neckline, he pulls down, exposing her, pinching and fondling the tight peak. He begins to whisper words of encouragement, his other hand sliding between her legs. Emery rocks back into him, spreading her legs, presenting her clit as he wraps his fingertips around the small bundle of nerves. Her whines grow, each being pushed from her body. “Fuck me, Evans,” she demands into the night.

He chuckles again. “So tense, Kitten. We got this. Relax, baby. Relax.”

Her slick pussy works his cock to perfection, holding him snug and he can feel his own climax building. She changes positions again and he smiles when her hand joins his, pressing over her hood as his hand swirls quickly around her clit.

He drops his other hand to the dock to support them as she begs him to go faster. He thrusts harder and deeper, tilting into her, hitting her soft walls, buried with each stroke. Giving as much as she’s taking, her body slows as her orgasm begins and she begs, “Don’t stop. Too perfect.”  

Pounding in and out, each stroke now takes him out of her body,  bouncing across her rim before sliding back in. Hard and fast. Strong and deep. The pulsing of her cunt around him is tight and her noises echo in his ears, bouncing from the trees and water. His unstoppable force rises, and he is helpless against its’ tide. Lost in her own orgasm, he joins her, the feeling so intense, his cries match hers. Filled with his seed, their lovemaking, she falls forward on the dock, holding his wrist and pulling him down with her. He collapses over her, careful not to drop his full weight. Her body still trembles under his as she falls back to reality. “Happy Birthday,” she sings out, light and airy.

He kisses the back of her neck, wondering if this is it. Did they just start a life? Thirty-seven and he still feels he’s failed, not being a father yet. Not giving her what she wants most; their child.

“You’re thinking too loudly. It would be a great birthday gift, no doubt, but don’t stress on it.” She lifts her shoulder and he rolls off. She turns to face him. “Shhh… Stop thinking,” she says as she caresses across his forehead. “It’s fuckin’ hot out here,” she states.

He rolls his eyes. “It’s a long walk to the shower house.”

“Are you suggesting we skinny-dip, dear husband?” She lifts her head, resting her chin on her palm. With her other hand, she begins to unbutton his shirt.

“Sounds like a good plan,” he agrees, reaching across to unzip her dress. “Another present to unwrap… More birthday sweets!”

Read more about Emery and Chris in their novella, Georgia on My Mind, and their story collections

Copyright © 2018 avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved.

Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

 

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Private Dancer

private dancer june 5 2018.jpg

Private Dancer

By avenger-nerd-mom

Chris has a late night encounter

Warnings: NSFW, public nudity, dom/sub tendencies, anal fingering, denied orgasm, talk of bondage

Word Count: 3884

July 2018

Head back against the wall,Chris slouches in the old metal chair, too tired and achy to move. He waves goodbye to the others, leaving for the night, and swipes his hand out to the side, hoping his grasp will reach the water bottle in the chair next to him.

“Go home, man, it’s enough for one day,” a voice calls out.

“Yea, yea, I know,” he guffaws, the tiredness seeped in his vocal chords. “I might run through it again.”

The bottle pressed to his lips, the water is cool as it runs down the back of his throat, refreshing. Just when he thinks he can’t take the heat, the air conditioning in the worn down building kicks on, causing the windows to rattle. He takes another swallow, running the back of his arm across his forehead, chilling his skin as the sweat collects in the hairs on his arms.

“Too fuckin’ old for this, Evans,” he mutters to himself.

He downs the rest of the water quickly, grunting in pain as he leans forward to untie his shoes. He lazily pulls one off and it clunks to the scuffed floors. The lights click off overhead and he calls out, “Hey! I’m still in here!”

Static screeches through the stereo system and a familiar guitar riff fills the room. A spot light shines down from above on a form in the center of the room, a curvy figure outlined in the shadows as her hips sway to the first beat. He bites back a smile as her heels click on the floor, executing a perfect spin before falling to her knees, crawling towards him. On the prowl, she keeps to the cadence of the song, a seductress he’s never seen before.

Her stance wide, hips sashaying from side to side, she taps the rhythm and stomps in perfect syncopation. A halo of curls swirl around her, a wave of red, blazing fire, hiding her face. Unable to see her expressions, he wants to watch her feet, the sound clear and crisp, in strict, guarded movements. But his eyes are drawn to the sweet jiggle of her ass in the high cut booty shorts and her strained nipples against the tight t-shirt, cut and knotted between her firm breasts. Her hands run over her body, wanting and needing, the music pulsing through her, creating a heated sexual energy in the room.

Every move is practiced and fluid, almost effortless. Yet even in the cold room, he can see sweat collecting on her lower back, at the waist of the form fitting shorts. She’s working hard, and has his attention. Resting back in the chair, he palms over his hardening cock, turned on by this show, just for him. His private dancer.

He aches to touch her. Realizing he can glimpse her backside in the mirror behind her, he enjoys fruitfully all the bouncing muscles rolling under the athletic strain of her performance. As she stomps, reaching forward gracefully, he wonders how he hadn’t noticed the cane on the floor before. The way she grips the core causes him to groan quietly, shifting uncomfortably now in his seat. His tired aches are forgotten as she crawls across the floor some more, sliding along on knee pads. With a final click of the long staff against the hardwood floor, the music ends as mysteriously as it began.

He jumps from his seat, in wild applause as she stays bowed before him, breathing heavily and slightly panting. Padding forward in his socks, he swoops his hand under her waist and swings her up to her feet. Still hidden under the mass of hair, he pushes it back from her face, her blue eyes shining bright. “Holy fuck, that was awesome! The sexiest thing I’ve ever-”

Her mouth closes over his, swallowing his words, a hard, forced kiss, teeth gnashing against teeth. His arms pull her tight, his body flush against hers. Heat. Adrenaline. Pure sex appeal. His hands roam over her lusty ass, down the backs of her thighs as he tries to get closer, to crawl into her as she pulls and tugs his plump lips between her teeth, her tongue diving into the far reaches of his mouth. Clawing at his hair, holding him close, her leg slides up his, wrapping behind his thigh, holding him even closer. His hard cock twitches, grinding against her barely clothed body.

With a satiated sigh, she pulls away, an almost shy smile creeping across her face. “Fuck, that was sexy,” she whispers.

Her throaty twang reaches to his dick, causing another jerk, pushing into her. Holding her ass closely, his hands creep under the fabric cupping her rounded cheeks. She’s so wet, already primed. He begins to lower his wife to the hardwood floor, ready to take her here and now.

“Evans, you aren’t doing me on the hardwood floor,” Emery laughs, fighting against him to remain standing.

He looks around quickly. “There’s dance mats.”

In a quick spin, she extricates herself from his hold, “There’s also three cameras from different angles filming the dance, and your reaction.”

He grabs her hand, spinning her close to him, sliding his hand from her knee up her thigh, gripping her waist as he thrusts against her. “This is my reaction.”

“I know; I saw,” she giggles. “Thank god you didn’t whip it out and keep stroking.”

Chris looks around, seeing for the first time the tiny red glow from a camera light. “Let’s just turn off the damn cameras?”

“How about we drag our achy, sore bodies to the hotel room I booked across the street?”

“You did not?” He incredulously intones.

“I did too,” she smiles wildly, gliding and tapping away from him, just out of his reach. She runs around, turning off the cameras and tucking them under her arms while he puts his street shoes on. “Shontae just said to lock up. She’ll be back in an hour or so to close up for the night.”

He takes the cameras from her hands, catching her fingers in his grasp and brushing his thumb over her sparkling wedding ring. “Shontae. She helped throw this together? I didn’t know you could still tap.” He remembers now pictures around her parents’ home of various dance recitals and years as a cheerleader. He chuckles as she lowers herself into the metal chair. “All the bruises, and aching muscles? That wasn’t from working out with Don at Drive495?” He’d hated knowing while he was running scripts and warming up for evenings on Broadway, that she was often getting in afternoon workouts with his pal, Sebastian Stan. He didn’t care she’d lost fifteen pounds, and enjoyed the routine. Jealousies run deep…

“Oh, no, I was still working out with Don and Seb,” she replies, running her hands down her sculpted abs, “but Shontea came into the city once a week to meet me at a studio, and she and another trainer worked with me to get this little surprise ready for you.” She lazily points to a bag in the corner while sliding off the knee pads. “Can you bring me my shoes? I’ll walk across the street dressed like a hooker, but I’m not ruining my taps.”

She hugs the heels to her chest and he chuckles, scooting his feet across the floor to get her bag. He groans, reaching to pick it up. Crossing the room again, he’s afraid he wouldn’t be able to pull his tired, pained body up out of the chair if he sits again, so he leans against the wall, watching her slide on a pair of athletic sandals. “How long you been working on this surprise?”

Her brow furrows, as she presses her hands to her thighs, pushing herself to stand up. She winces. From her bag, she pulls out a water bottle and aspirin, offering him some as well.

“Last fall? When you started dancing again? After some classes last fall in Atlanta, I realized my body could do it, so I came up with this crazy plan last December.” She tilts her head back, swallowing the little pills, massaging the nape of her neck. She raises her eyebrow. “The room has a giant jet tub…” Changing back to the subject of dance, she continues. “I thought it would be a fun surprise. Give me something to do while we were in New York…” her voice trails off as she places her hand in his.

He throws her bag over his shoulder, leading her to the door. Pulling it closed, he makes sure it locks and they slowly walk down the stairs to the street below, each hiding the muffled “ooffs” of muscle aches and pains. “Too damn old,” he whispers again.

“Speak for yourself, I’m in my prime,” she chuckles, nearly stumbling into him when he stops on the step.

“You just keep getting better with age,” Chris admits, throwing his arm around her neck as they step out of the building, onto the sidewalk. “You really do look like a hooker, very Julia Roberts, Pretty Woman.”

“Thanks,” she says, tucking into his side and looking down the walk for observers. With a quick kiss on his lips, she shakes out her hair, untamed and free. No cars coming, they jog across the road quickly. “This place is probably used to it,” she chuckles, pulling open the door to the older city hotel.

“Right? It would be my luck to get caught by a photographer right about now, though. Hidden on a back page in the Boston Herald… ‘Hometown Hero Up to Old Tricks.’” He laughs, following her through the lobby, just a step behind to watch her ass. The clerk nods, a blush reaching the younger man’s cheeks. Chris tries his best to hide his scowl. Jealousies run deep…

“Caught with hookers here before, honey?” She teases, shaking her head disapprovingly at him. Goosing her as they wait for the elevator to arrive, she turns away from him, shaking her head and pushing away his hands.

“Not hookers, but…” He decides it’s best to let the sentence trail of when she raises her eyebrow higher than he thought humanly possible.

When the box opens, he advances towards her and she gracefully steps back. It clicks in his head she’d been carrying herself well, proud and confident, for the last few months. Finally growing into the role as a celebrity icon herself. Working out and dancing had been good for her, primal and empowering. The doors close and he pushes her against the wall. Rolling her eyes, she reaches around him, and punches in the number for the top floor. With her back to the wall, his hands grip her waist, his thumb caressing over her exposed belly button. He delights in the catch of her breath, the tiny goosebumps that bubble across her skin. Looking down on her petite, svelte figure, he beams with pride. “What is this anyway?” he teases, his hands ghosting up her muscled form, tugging at the knotted fabric between her breasts.

Her eyes drop to his hands, and he fumbles momentarily before the fabric falls free, exposing her breasts. Keeping her blocked from any surveillance, his hands cup the heavy globes, squeezing the warm flesh, feeling her nipples pebble under the caress of his palms.

“You better fuck me good tonight, Evans,” she warns, her voice heavy and rich.

The door buzzes and opens. She tugs the fabric together, clutching it to her chest, barely covering herself and walks around him.

He covers his face in his hands, chuckling, running out of the elevator to follow her down the hall. “You say that like you’ve been disappointed lately-”

She turns to him, dropping her hands, the ripped t-shirt falling open, only covering one of her breasts as the other half falls to her side. “Let’s just say we’ve both been too tired, and focused on the wrong things.”

“Ouch,” he whispers seeing a quick blaze of anger behind her eyes. He steps in front of her, hoping to keep his prize from view on security cams.

From a pocket on her bag, she pulls out a room key and slides it over the keypad, gaining access to the room. Blocking the door, her hand snakes out and grabs his belt buckle. “When we step through this door, for tonight, I want all this boring, ‘married life,’ ‘day to day’ chat to stop. I just wanna fuck, and forget the world tonight.”

Her eyes darken and her features are harsh under the poor lighting. Red curls billow around her angel face and she’s so beautiful, his love for her grows a bit more. In his silence, entranced by her prowess, she has begun to loosen his belt, slowly pulling it from the loops.  Visions and memories flood his mind, and he profoundly hears her words. With a moment’s hesitation, he bows his head, making a fast decision, her song choice still rolling through his head. He places his hand firmly around her wrist, stopping the tug of his belt. “Then I’ll damn well take care of my Kitten, my bride, no complaints?”

Emery’s hands drop to her side. Her smile grows, understanding his unspoken words. “Don’t get too carried away. Remember to strip me before you tie me up with that thing.” She smirks. “Unlike last time,” she murmurs under her breath.

Already challenging his authority. He grins, choking back his sigh. She’s too damn hard headed to really play his games, but they have their own fun. A freedom he’d never had before. Love and trust. The true key to happiness. Feeling his need rise, an inner beast raging inside him, he can’t remember the last time they truly had time to play.

Reading his mind, she whispers, “No one else is on this floor tonight, and we have late check out tomorrow. Now cut the bullshit, Evans. It’s like you’re stalling,” she taunts.

Reaching his hand over her shoulder, his eyes grow dark in an instant as a memory of her tied up once before skates through his thoughts. His fist pushes the door open. He steps towards her and she doesn’t budge. Testing him. “In. Strip. Slowly.”

He watches her entire presence change. She softens, ready to have her needs met at his command. She dutifully turns, her hips swishing from side to side, dropping the cut t-shirt to the floor as she strolls in. Chris flicks on the light switch, and two dim lamps in the room react, setting a mood. She doesn’t turn to look at him as she slides out of her sandals, leaving them beside the bed. He swipes his phone screen, calling up some music, her dance song of choice filling the air. The little shorts barely cover her ass, having ridden up between her cheeks as they ran across from the studio. As he watches her roll the second-skin fabric over her hips and down her legs, he undresses quickly as well. He can see she’s already wet, the clothing having been pressed into her sex. Faint tan lines mark across her back from different pool outings with all their nieces and nephews and trips to Georgia, to the lake house. He tries not to laugh at her white ass, blindingly pale, compared to the light tan.

“I’m still more tan than you,” she says quietly.

“How the fuck do you do that?” He asks, walking up to her quietly and running his hand down her spine. Her shoulders quake as a shiver runs over her. “Know my thoughts?”

“Magic.”

“Oh, I’ll show you ‘magic,’” he replies. “Bend over.” His hand presses against her back as she complies. “Rest your palms on the bed…. Beautiful. So beautiful.”

Her deep breathing fills his ears, tuned into her, the music merely to keep outside sounds filtered. Looping the belt together, he drags the worn leather over her alabaster skin. He can hear her exhale, and he repeats the path before drawing it in circles over her canvas. In his mind’s eye he sees the outcome, splattering his cum all over her backside. Tonight is raw, animalistic… He pushes the thoughts of creating a baby from his mind, wanting to see his seed wasted instead. When your wife says she wants to get fucked, and hands over the reins, you can do what you want. Chris grins at the thought. Tonight’s gonna be fun.

Admiring her ass, her taut skin, her legs pressed together. A small bruise on the back of her thigh, probably from a fall during a dance rehearsal. He can’t believe she’d been practicing for months, and he hadn’t even known. He’d believed her tales, slipping on ice on the subway steps, bumping into a desk at work. Her sprained wrist had kept a brace on her hand for weeks. Dancing. She’d been dancing to surprise him. “What a woman,” he praises. He tilts his chin up. “Spread.”

Her breathing is controlled as she slides her right leg out, rebalancing and distributing her weight evenly between her feet. His cock twitches, hardening, lifting and bobbing against his belly. He groans. Shifting closer to her, he leans forward, pressing himself across the divide of her rounded ass. He rubs the head of his shaft over her, slowly hissing out his own pleasure, smearing her with his pre-cum. He settles himself between her legs, stroking back and forth. Arching over her back, his hands fall forward to play with her freely swinging breasts. “Unmph,” she moans, wiggling back into him. Pushing against her, playing with her tits, it’s barely all he can take to not explode before they even begin. Last week? We had sex sometime last week, right? He pinches her peaked buds as he positions himself to line up with her rim. Dropping one end of the belt, he wraps it around her waist, gathering it in one hand, fisting it against her lower back. Her pussy is hot and wet, inviting him in, soaking the tip of his hard cock. She sighs again. He bites his lip to keep from laughing at her annoyance, letting go of her breast to swat her ass. “I say when,” he reminds her.

When? Now? Why the hell wait?

Waiting’s fun, he reminds himself. He slows his breathing, remembering when sex was fun, before it became rushed, fitting it in their schedules, trying again to create life.

He glides his finger through her wet, bringing it back to caress over her puckered hole. Her weight sags forward, melting into the floor. Her weakness, never would have imagined playing with her ass would be her weakness. Pulling up on the belt, he perfects her stance as he pushes his finger, teasing her tight rim. The small squeak she vocalizes makes him smile, and he can picture the delight on her face. Smoothing over the shiny pink surface, he holds the belt tighter around her waist before stimulating her asshole again. “Breathe deep, Kitten,” he reminds her, knowing she’s holding her breath. Seeing her relax, he takes advantage and pushes in up to his knuckle, feeling her silky smooth wall hold him in firmly. When she relaxes more, he slides out and pushes in again, completing the same action with his cock into her waiting cunt, dripping and ready. “Fuuuck,” he whines. “You feel so good baby.”

She cries out, almost squirming away from him, and he holds still a moment while her body adjusts to the stuffed feeling. “Damn tight,” she moans. Not accepting him tonight, her body constricts, forcing his finger out. Leaning over her again, he reaches for her torn shirt, and wipes his hand clean. Her legs are already shaky and her arms, extended in front of her with only her palms on the bed, are twitchy. He can feel her exhaustion, knows it in her muscles from her performance. Sliding his hand under her wild mane of hair, he grips her neck, increasing the pounding behind his thrusts in and and out of her sopping pussy. The smell of sex fills the air and her sweet nectar runs down her legs, squishing out with each forceable propulsion.

“Don’t be mean,” she whispers.

For her defiance, he yanks up on the belt, slamming her to him, in balls deep and holding her neck tighter. Still afraid to admit she likes it rough, he ponders. The sound of their skin slapping together drives him to pump faster, and harder, but with no stimulation to her clit or breasts, she can continue to pant in heat. Her whines grow as the elusive orgasm pains her, her breaths quick and sharp. Her fingers grip the edge of the bed. Chris wonders if she’ll let go, if she’ll defy him further and reach to stimulate herself. He feels his own pressure building as her legs begin to quake. He walks them forward a few steps closer to the bed, dropping his hand from her neck to her shoulder, gently pushing her down to rest her forearms against the bed, tipping her ass up a bit higher. Directly hitting her spot with each ram, her cries grow louder, breathy whines and moans. “Beg,” he commands.

She shakes her head ‘no,’ slowly. “No use,” she groans. “You won’t let me come.”

He chuckles, the tightening low in his belly, and he leans into her, sucked down into her wet flower, gripping and squeezing around him. The first pulse of his cum shoots through him and paints her deep inside. “Shhh-it,” he hisses, dropping the belt to the floor and pulling out to spill all over her back, just as he’d fantasized. It’s in her hair, shot too high, she’ll hate that. Tugging and twisting over the swollen veins of his cock, he pumps faster, watching the ropes of thick white cum splatter her skin. A few drops fall to the floor, but not a big mess. As the pulses die out and he stills in his hand, her form sinks. “Just wait, Kitten. Let me get you cleaned up.”  She nods, but doesn’t speak.

Warming the wash cloth under the sink water, he reaches over and turns on the jet tub, filling it with hot water. Returning quickly to her side, he wipes up the mess, whispering praises for her performance, on the dance floor and as his submissive toy for the evening. He watches her struggle to hold back her words as he picks her up and carries her to the tub. Sinking down in the hot water, it’s like she unfreezes and her words tumble out. “I asked you to fuck me, no, I told you too. What the hell was that, Jellybean?”

Playfully dunking her under the water, he adjusts the knobs for the jets. She emerges, wiping water from her face, spluttering.

“That was us, just getting started tonight, Kitten. I’m nowhere near finished with you yet. We have lots of lost time we need to make up for. I’m gonna call down to the front desk in the morning. We might just hide up here for the rest of the week, no cares, no responsibilities. All the fucking you want and need.”

Climbing over him as he settles into the water, she grips his cock in her hand, not even attempting to be gentle and says, “Sounds like the perfect summer plan to me!”

Read more about Emery and Chris in their novella, Georgia on My Mind, and their story collections

Author’s Note: Inspired by this AMAZING video, choreographed by Chloe Arnold, featuring the Syncopated Ladies. Emery could handle MOST of the routine, stopping at 1:57…

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