by Alexa Riley
I dig to the back of my closet and find a skirt I’d been saving. It’s bright pink and pleated, and I skip the panties. I grab the little tee I had made online that is one size too small and pull it over my head, not bothering with a bra. It’s white and reads Wifey for Lifey across the chest. I slip on knee socks before sliding into some plain white sneakers. It might take some work to get out the door with him with me dressed like this, but he’ll let me have my way. Eventually.
Walking back into the bathroom I give myself one last look, fluffing my hair. I put on some cherry lip gloss and decide that’s all I need before making my way downstairs.
I burst into Sasha office, and he turns in his chair, knowing immediately what I’m going to do. I jump into his lap, rubbing my ass against his cock. His hand goes to my ass, feeling my bare cheek, and he squeezes it.
Before I can do anything, he’s got his mouth on mine, his tongue pushing past my lips, taking me in a deep kiss. That’s when I know I nailed the outfit. I don’t get to dress like this much anymore, so when I can, I go all out. I try to tone it down in front of our three little boys. But when the kids are away, Sasha is my daddy.
He dips his hand under my skirt and cups my sex. His middle finger slips past my lips and he smiles at me.
“Angel. You’re not leaving the house in this,” he says disapprovingly. I lean back, looking into his dark eyes. Time has been good to him. I think he’s even more handsome than the day I first saw him. I love the small amount of gray coming in at his temples, and that over the years of being together, small laugh lines have formed on his face.
“You don’t like my shirt?” I moan, leaning back to give him a better view of it. His other hand comes up and traces around my nipples, which are visibly poking out against the fabric. They’re hard and tight, and I see him lick his lips as his middle finger slowly moves in and out of me.
“Da.”
He leans forward, taking one in his mouth through the material of the shirt, sucking and biting it. I wiggle my ass on his hard cock, and I hear the sound of my sex wetting as his finger continues to move inside me.
“You must change, angel.”
I shake my head. It’s not happening.
He lets out a grunt. “Then I hope the plans you have made for us involve us remaining home.”
“Wrong again.” I smile, and his hand stills.
He lifts me so I’m straddling his lap, and spreads my thighs wide. He pushes two fingers inside me, and I moan, riding them.
“Cum on my fingers so I can lick it off,” he says.
He curls them inside me, rubbing the spot I love so much. With only a few expert strokes, he gets me off. I cum, but it’s not enough. It was too fast, and my nipples are still aching.
He slowly takes his fingers from my heat and brings them to his mouth, savoring my cream.
“We need to go.” I try to force out a stern tone, but my words come out as a moan. You would think it’s been months since he’s had me, not just this morning. He woke me up with his mouth between my legs and a hard fucking right after. But with the way we’re acting right now, we seem deprived. “We have plans, we have to get going.” He nods and releases me. I stand from his lap, and he smooths my skirt down, making sure it’s in place. Then he grazes his knuckles over my nipples, and it zings all the way to my pussy. Sasha has a way of controlling my body with one simple touch.
He stays seated as he leans his head forward on my stomach. I rub my hands through his hair as his arms wrap around my waist. He’s become such a cuddler in the past ten years.
“Thank you, angel,” he says against me. “You made my life.”
My eyes begin to water. I knew before me his life was hard. He did dark things, but since the two of us finally came together, it’s all been heaven. Since we left my father’s house and I became his, he’s found a softness inside that I wasn’t sure existed. He’s truly become the man of my dreams and given me everything my heart has desired. Including his love.
“You made mine, too,” I respond. He grips me tighter, and I keep running my hands through his hair. We stay like that for a few moments, until he finally leans back to look at me.
“All right, let’s see what kind of trouble you’re going to get yourself in.” He stands, but when he does he lifts me, throwing me over his shoulder and smacking my bare ass. He strides through the house and to the car, placing me inside then buckling me in.
He goes around to his side and gets in, then we take off. I give him the address, and he grunts in response as he drives.
“Skirt up, legs open. You know I like a view.”
One hand comes to rest on my thigh as I do what he says. He doesn’t go any higher, just rubs my thigh back and forth, and it’s driving me crazy. He’s doing it on purpose, but from the strain of the outline of his cock, I think we’re both in the same pain.
“Daddy?” I ask, my breathing picking up. Maybe I should have asked him for more in his office. Had him fuck me once more before we left.
“Da, my sweet angel?”
“Please?”
He glances over at me for a second, then back at the road. “We are here,” he says reminding me of what we’re doing. I’d forgotten on the short drive, that’s how lost I am for him. I had them set up close to the house, so when I look out the car window, I see them and start to bounce in my seat.
I look over at Sasha, who doesn’t look so happy. His face is hard and he’s glaring out the window.
“Nyet,” he says, and the word is final.
* * *
Sasha
“My angel is too important to me,” I say, and look at the disappointment on Anya’s face.
The two men who have set up the hot - air balloon are over by the truck, waiting for my instructions. They took their fill of my wife as she bounded from the car, breasts bouncing, hints of her pussy being shown from beneath her skirt.
One of the men is young, and I see now that he tries to hide his erection from me. From my angel. I do not like anyone looking at what is mine, but there is no way to prevent this while I am trying to explain to her that this is unsafe.
“It’s safe. They tie it off and only let us go up a few feet,” she pleads, her eyes begging me.
“I will not allow it. The risk is too great. What would our children do without a mother and father? Nyet.”
“I thought you would like it,” she pouts, her little lip poking forward.
“I love you too much, my angel. With your safety, I will not broker a deal.” I look over at the hot - air balloon and then back at her. “I will allow you to stand inside the basket, if that will give you pleasure.”
She looks over at it and shrugs, but I can see that it is some compromise.
“Will you come inside it with me?” She looks back at me, and I nod. I can only deny her so much in one afternoon.
She reaches up, wrapping her arms around my neck, and I place my hands on her bare ass. I look over the top of her head to the men behind her who are trying not to get caught looking. But how could a male not want my wife? She is perfection.
I walk her over to the basket and open the door. She steps inside and looks up at the balloon.
“Are you happy now?” I ask.
“I guess. I wanted to go up in it. It’s supposed to be a thrill.”
I step towards her, pressing her against the side of the basket. “Would it give you the thrill you want to be fucked in here?”
She looks back over her shoulder to see if the men are watching before she looks at me. She nods slightly as she takes one step to the side, spreading her legs for me.
“The side is high enough that I could fuck you right here and no one would see.” I grip the edge of her skirt and lift it up to her waist. “Would you be quiet, angel?”
She bites her lip and shakes her head as she tries to hold back a smile.
“As I suspected,” I say, reaching down and unzipping my pants. “You two! Get in the truck,” I yell to the men, and
watch as they climb into the cab, facing away from us.
I pull my cock out and see the hungry look in her eyes. “All for me?” she asks, licking her lips.
“I’ll wash your mouth out with cum later. For now, climb on my cock.”
I grip her hips and lift her a little as I bend my knees and slide into her tight pussy. Her hot cunt sucks me in tight and squeezes every inch.
“Those men in the truck are trying to watch me fuck you,” I say, moving in and out of her wetness.
She leans up and presses her lips to my ear. “I told them I was your daughter. That this was my birthday present to you.”
My cock grows bigger with her words, and I fuck her harder. “Why do you love getting into trouble?” I ask, gripping her thighs and hammering into her now.
She leans back, pulling her shirt up, exposing her tight nipples for my mouth. I fall on them, sucking one, then the other. I feel her pussy tighten, and I know she wants to release just as badly as I do.
“Because it gets you so hard,” she moans, squeezing me tighter.
I let go of her nipple with a pop, then pull her chest against mine as my lips move to her ear. “It’s okay, angel. Let them think what they want. They’re trying to sneak looks at you, and they’re wondering if they get to fuck you after I’m finished. They don’t care if I’m your daddy, they just want a turn.” I bite her earlobe and kiss it. “But you know they won’t. Because you belong to me. I’m your daddy forever, because I took what was mine. You’re forever my reward, little Anya.”
“Yes,” she breathes, right before she cums.
Her pussy covers my cock as her body gives in to what I demand. Her orgasm is loud, but I press her mouth to my chest as I thrust inside her one last time and finish. My own release pulls from every inch of my body and flows into her. It’s hard and deep, but it’s what she wanted.
“Happy anniversary,” she mumbles against my chest and then giggles.
“To one hundred more, my love,” I say, before placing a kiss on her lips.
THE END
Back River Quiver
Chapter One
Morgan
Morgan’s flip-flop sank into a sludge and she cringed, once again pulling the cell phone out of her pocket to check for reception. Nothing. Not a single bar to be had. Usually rebelling against her mother was fun—not this time apparently.
She turned in a circle as silently as possible. Surrounded by swampland with no cell phone reception was not exactly the kind of post-graduation summer break she’d been hoping for. When her mother suggested Florida, Morgan had been on board, thrilled for a chance to work on her tan. And…fine. She hadn’t been torn up over the chance to have Mom all to herself for once. Ever since the promotion, she’d been fending for herself, throwing dinners together in between homework and applying for internships. Imagine Morgan’s surprise when they’d landed in Key Largo only to be greeted by her mother’s secret boyfriend.
All this time. Morgan’s mother hadn’t been taking work trips.
She’d been getting action on the sly.
Could anyone blame Morgan for bouncing? She wasn’t about to sit around the hotel watching her mother make eyes at a divorced real estate investor. Her intention was to hitch a ride to Miami and use her fake identification to sneak into a couple clubs. To take her mind off how fast her mother moved on from her father. Unfortunately, she’d taken a wrong turn—or seven—and promptly blown the right front tire of her mother’s rental Chrysler.
Right at the edge of the Everglades.
Morgan trudged forward, telling herself for the tenth time that she would run into the advertised gas station sooner or later. The farther she walked, however, the more she began to suspect the sign was either ancient or the gas station had sunk right into the mud, just like her poor flip-flop. The hotel pool, leering businessmen and a virgin piña colada didn’t sound quite so bad right about now.
In her halter top and shorts, bikini top tied underneath, she couldn’t be dressed any more inappropriately to get lost in a freaking jungle. Morgan turned around and scanned the green, sloping trees, trying to remember which way she’d come. Oh, this was bad. Her sense of direction sucked major ass and now daylight was beginning to fade.
Gathering her courage, she cupped both hands around her mouth. “Um…hello? Out there?”
She yelped as a flock of birds broke from behind a mossy rock and scattered into the densely humid atmosphere. That’s when she started to notice other sounds. Creepy ones. Sounds she never heard while tucked away in her Chicago high-rise home. Not even at her dad’s ranch in California…back when she used to visit him. Divorces were the worst. Especially when your parents use you as a bargaining chip. Or leverage.
Shaking off her dark thoughts, Morgan swiped open the flashlight app on her cell and shined it toward the ground. She only had an hour of daylight left. Best not to disappear farther into the swamp. Instead, she would use the flashlight to follow her footprints in the mud back to her car—and call for roadside assistance. The way she should have done in the first place.
Plan in place, Morgan started at a purposeful clip, refusing to speculate on what kind of decomposed plants and nine-million-year-old mud was making its home between her toes. As soon as she got back to the hotel, she wasn’t coming out of the shower for an hour.
A snap to Morgan’s right brought her to a startled halt. What was that? Unlike the hoots, birdcalls and lapping water she’d been hearing, this sounded closer. It shifted the air. And all the other sounds ceased, like someone had hushed them.
Her blood started to thrum in her wrists and neck, the urge to run strong. So strong. Yet at the same time, her body refused to move. Fear tumbled in her belly.
“Hello?” Morgan croaked.
Another snap. This time, it was followed by the dragging of brush on earth. Low. Low to the ground. Dozens of colorful tourist brochures danced in her head. Alligator farms. Tour the everglades. All of those pamphlets had one thing in common. Slithery, green, prehistoric-looking monsters on the front. Even a city girl knew an alligator was approaching now. Where though? Which way did she need to run to escape it? Beginning to shake, she turned in a slow revolution, the fingers of terror sinking into her muscles, locking them up tight.
Morgan’s cell phone flashlight illuminated something so horrifying, she could barely process it. She expected a regular-sized alligator, but twenty yards away was the most enormous, ugliest beast she’d ever seen in her life. Five times her size, its teeth caught the light and she could already feel them sinking into her throat.
“Oh, no. This is bad.” Morgan backed up a few steps and her heel caught on a rock, plunging her to the damp, spongey ground. Her cell phone dropped, stealing the light along with it—and she screamed, scrambling onto her hands and knees. Two seconds. That was all it took for the alligator to reach her. Pain blasted up her right ankle as sharp teeth grazed her.
Run. Run. Get up and run.
Doing as her brain commanded, there was a large part of Morgan that expected the teeth to sink in again, deeper this time. Expected to be eaten alive. And a sob rose from her throat, knowing her mother would probably never find a body to bury. Oh God. She was going to get dragged into the nasty-ass swamp and chewed up, wasn’t she? She should have stayed at the hotel and endured the suck-face between her mom and Too-Tan Dan. Instead she’d been impulsive, just like always. Now she’d die as punishment.
But the jaws never clamped down. Morgan ran a few steps before a yell ripped through the air, sending unseen animals scurrying in every direction and abusing her eardrums. Even with her instincts demanding she flee, she couldn’t help looking back over her shoulder. The scene that greeted her eyes skidded her to a stop.
A…man?
Yeah, a man. A huge one. His size rivaled the alligator—and that insane bulk was being used to wrestle the animal. Successfully. It was hard to tell in the dark, but Morgan actually thought the gator looked scared of the giant. The animal’s l
ittle arms flailed as the man flipped it over onto its back, one oversized hand clamping its jaw together so it couldn’t bite.
“No way,” Morgan whispered. “This is better than the Discovery Channel.”
And her ass needed to keep running. Because an alligator was terrifying, but a man that could wrestle one? Even scarier. Not to mention, the man-beast was utterly ripped with muscle—and was shirtless in overalls. Any city girl knew damn well that a shirtless man wearing overalls in a swamp was the beginning to a horror flick. She wasn’t about to be dragged to some shack where skulls of lost travelers lined the rafters and sharp implements dangled over a torture table. Nope. Fuck that noise.
Morgan spun on a heel and booked it, inwardly mourning the loss of her cell phone. She could very well be getting more and most lost, but at least she’d live to fight another day. The pain in her ankle throbbed, but knowing how much worse it could have been, she didn’t dwell.
The sound of footsteps behind Morgan brought the hammer of fear back down with a vengeance. It was the man. Alligators didn’t run—at least she didn’t think so. The footfalls were way too heavy, anyway. Oh God. He was gaining on her. She was fast, but not with a bum ankle. Best to face the threat with cool logic. Maybe she would be the Jamie Lee Curtis of this horror flick and make it out alive.
Morgan stopped and turned, holding her hands out. The man stopped, too, his face buried in the shadows, his acre-wide chest heaving with exertion. Holy shit. Up close, she saw the man was easily six foot seven, covered in chest hair and mud. Maybe even a little of his own blood. Big fists huge at his sides, the veins in his forearms stark in the creeping twilight. Repressed aggression hung on his body, the way heat emanates from a furnace.
If this man wanted, he could force himself on her. With ease.
