by Allie Ritch
HUSBANDRY
Allie Ritch
www.loose-id.com
Husbandry
Copyright © March 2013 by Allie Ritch
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eISBN 9781623002992
Editor: Tamzin Mitchell
Cover Artist: Dar Albert
Published in the United States of America
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San Francisco CA 94104-0809
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This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning
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Dedication
To Trudy: artist, smarty-pants, and my grandmother. Like Fila’s grandma, mine really did say we women should have two husbands—one to be romantic and one to be a good father and provider. Thanks for the inspiration, Grandma!
Chapter One
“Honey, I’m home.” Although I knew it was a terrible cliché, I delivered the greeting with a smile as I came through the door.
The words were still a novelty to me and felt strange on two levels. My marriage was only five months old, so I wasn’t used to having someone waiting for me yet. We’d also only just bought the house—a great fixer-upper with more room than I was convinced we needed. It was the first time I’d ever owned my own home.
Wasn’t it amazing how quickly life could change? After three decades of single life, I’d been convinced I, Fila Marie Leonard, would be a bachelorette forever. I was self-sufficient enough that the thought had held no terror, except I’d always wanted a family. And to be honest, watching all my friends get married and have children had begun to make me feel left out.
So I’d done something I’d never thought I’d do. I’d finally gone husband hunting. Or maybe husband shopping was a better description. Genetic Harmony Inc. was a very sophisticated matchmaking service that guaranteed results. I’d visited one of their satellite facilities since their main office was not only located several states away but on a parallel world within the multiverse.
Now, I didn’t usually do business across worlds. I didn’t even fully understand the concept of a multiverse. Science had never been my forte, although my college history class covered it best: About the time Gregor Mendel, the father of modern genetics, was born in our world, one of the Alternate Earths was already busy doing gene therapy to cure diseases and engineer immunity to viruses. This was in response to a pandemic that wiped out over half their world’s population—similar to the bubonic plague or the Spanish flu here.
Needless to say, Alternate Earth was a great deal more advanced. So advanced, in fact, their scientists contacted us and formed a bridge between their world and ours some seventy-plus years ago. Now dealings between the universes were carefully regulated by a slew of government agencies that controlled trade and business between realities.
My transaction with Genetic Harmony Inc. cost me two things: a hefty sum of money and the donation of a few of my eggs to assist with genetic study and diversity on Alternate Earth. The latter concerned me at first, but I’d been assured (in writing) that they wouldn’t use my gametes to clone me. I’d also verified there wasn’t an alternate me running around over there who might be offended.
In return for this payment, the staff at Genetic Harmony put me through numerous psychological evaluations and personality tests. Then they wired me up to a frightening array of machines and studied my hormone levels and sexual responses to auditory and visual stimuli. In short, they examined me inside and out in order to determine my perfect match. In order to create that match.
“Hey there, hon.” My perfect match now walked into the foyer to welcome me home with a kiss.
I only worked part-time, so it was midafternoon and still sunny outside. Judging by the tool belt riding Chuck’s jean-clad hips, I knew my husband must have spent the morning tackling repairs and renovations. He was always busy fixing something around the house, which helped him keep trim, although he’d put on a few extra pounds thanks to my cooking.
I could see I needed to give him a haircut. His glossy black curls were starting to riot, giving him a scruffy look that complemented the precursors of a five-o’clock shadow I saw darkening his chin and jaw. Nothing could distract me from his lime-green eyes, though. They looked back at me from between thick, black lashes.
“How was your day?” His rich, husky voice gave me shivers, despite his casual tone.
“Same old, same old.” I was far more interested in his day. Hooking one finger in his waistband, I pulled him closer. “How about you? What have you been up to? Getting all hot and sweaty?”
His smile was boyish and innocent, but I knew he couldn’t ignore my hold on his pants. “Not so much. I stayed indoors today. Check it out.” He took my hand and pulled me toward the staircase. “See? The banister doesn’t wobble anymore, and I fixed the bullnose at the landing. And look at this.”
I followed him the rest of the way up to the second floor.
He used his free hand to open and close the door to the master bedroom. “I fixed the hinges so the door no longer creaks or sticks.”
I returned appropriate sounds of appreciation before I pulled him close again. “I could get used to having a handyman around.”
“Yeah?” This time there was no mistaking the spark of heat in his gaze. “Well, I’m not done yet. Still on the list is enlarging the bathroom and adding extra sinks.”
“You know how to make a girl weak in the knees.” I was only half joking. Visions of my dream bathroom already danced through my head. “What about bigger closets?”
His smile was devastating. “Of course. I’ll even install an organizer.”
“Oh baby.” Stretching up, I caught his full bottom lip between my teeth before I traced it with my tongue.
He cupped my hips and then shifted his hold so he held my butt with his strong hands. I swore I could feel the scorching heat of each finger through the thin fabric of my skirt, and I could definitely feel his erection straining against the fly of his jeans. His mouth was firm, yet satiny soft as it slanted over mine. The fresh scent of his morning shaving cream still clung to his skin beneath his stubble—a subtle trace barely perceptible beneath the woodsy aroma that always seemed to infuse his pores.
Chuck deepened the kiss until our tongues tangled. He walked me back toward the oversize bed on the far side of the room. I finally forced him to break for air when I caught the hem of his T-shirt and tugged it over his head. Before he could pull me close again, I stepped back to admire what I’d uncovered.
&n
bsp; “Mmm.” I licked my lips in appreciation.
He looked like a fantasy come to life, standing there shirtless with his tool belt on. A smattering of hair peppered his chest and formed a line that arrowed down until it disappeared beneath his waistband. He had a subtle tan line that showed where his T-shirt had been. For some reason, the change in skin tone made me grin. Unable to resist, I ran my palms up his chest and across his broad shoulders.
“You look so sexy,” I told him.
“You’re the sexy one.” He brushed a stray strand of blonde hair off my shoulder before undoing the buttons on my blouse. “How did I get so lucky?”
I felt the same way. And I was about to get even luckier.
My blouse hit the floor, leaving the way clear for him to cup my breast through my bra. Then he was kissing me again, fogging my brain with lust and mounting urgency. He shifted his hold, and I felt his callused hands glide up my back. He popped the clasp of my bra and slipped the straps down my arms, leaving me topless.
Although I was anxious to feel his palms chafe my nipples, I didn’t want him to get ahead of me. I locked gazes with him as I stepped out of my shoes and sank to my knees. The laces on his work boots required some effort to loosen, but that just built my anticipation. If the bulge in his blue jeans was anything to go by, the suspense was getting to him too.
I tossed each shoe over my shoulder and heard the muted thunk of impact as they hit the old beige carpet we had yet to replace. Under the circumstances, the mismatched socks I discovered on his feet struck me as endearing. He was always making little wardrobe mistakes like that, even though I did the laundry and sorted everything for him. Both the sock with the striped toe and its unmarked mate landed silently beside his boots.
When his gaze lowered to my bare breasts, I felt a hot flush spread across my skin. My nipples pebbled under the attention and grew so sensitive I couldn’t resist leaning into his legs. The thick denim covering them was infused with his body heat and strafed the tips of my breasts with every move I made. That included when I slipped my hands up his long legs to reach for his fly.
The pop of the button and the rasp of the zipper were barely audible beneath my heavy breathing. I hadn’t realized just how hard I was panting until that moment. He wasn’t much quieter, and I had a clear view of his chest bellowing in and out above me. I heard him groan as I freed his erection, though I was careful to do no more than brush his eager cock with my fingers.
Even from my position of supplication, I had a tough time stripping off his jeans. Chuck lost his balance when he had to lift one leg and almost went down before he caught himself against the foot of the bed. It didn’t matter. His gaze continued to bounce between my face and breasts, and we were too comfortable with each other for a little stumble to break the mood.
My mouth went dry at the sight of him sans pants and boxer shorts. He looked like he’d walked right off the page of a naughty calendar. All he wore now was his leather tool belt, and the sunlight shafting between the window curtains fell right across his torso and thighs. The twin front pockets bulged with pliers and screwdrivers and other tools and framed his most valuable piece of equipment. His cock stood so high the dark mushroom head reached past the buckle.
Like the rest of him, his prick was the perfect match for me. It was big enough to stretch and fill me completely without crossing the line into pain.
Hot cream drenched my panties until I had to squeeze my thighs together. Seeing him like this sent my imagination into overdrive. A million kinky notions raced through my brain, but I didn’t have time to act on any of them. In the next instant, Chuck unclasped his tool belt and dropped it aside on the floor. Although he’d never disappointed me, he wasn’t big on foreplay. He was clearly done waiting.
My skirt hit the carpet seconds later, looking far too delicate next to his hefty boots and tools. Then the world tilted, and I wound up flat on my back in bed. I lifted my hips so he could peel me out of my stockings and underwear, which wasn’t easy since I’d grown so warm.
The mattress dipped as he came over me, and his smoldering body heat blanketed me before his skin even made contact. Chuck stretched his full length over my body. He massaged my breast and devoured my lips until I was so dizzy I was glad I was lying down. I ran my fingers over his back and shoulders, marveling at how big and strong he was compared to me.
I snaked a hand between us to grasp his jutting cock and traced the distended veins running along the shaft. Here was the real miracle of construction—nature’s engineering at its finest. A drop of precum welled up from the slit. I brushed it with my thumb to spread it over the smooth cap, which elicited a loud groan from my husband.
He rewarded me with a questing finger that tickled my clit before he slipped it lower between my labia. I squeaked in startled pleasure when he thrust that rough digit into my channel. Then I moaned when he set the heel of his hand at the top of my slit and began stroking his finger in and out of me. He soon added a second finger to the first.
I opened my thighs farther, which was all the encouragement he needed. Assured of my readiness, he shifted his hips and replaced his fingers with the fat head of his cock. There was a great deal of pressure before the crown popped past my outer ring of muscle, followed by the feel of him sliding in to the hilt.
He didn’t give me any time to adjust before he began rocking that hard length in and out. Pleasure blossomed, and it didn’t take long before I grew so wet I could hear a whispered suck and squelch as he worked me. The sawing motion of his long cock raked pleasure across my most sensitive nerve endings.
I clung to his shoulders and lifted my hips to meet him. Perspiration broke out across my body—a result of exertion and the heat blasting through my core with the rising friction. We were both breathing hard, and I could hear the soft scratching of his leg hair against the coverlet we hadn’t bothered to turn down.
His green gaze caught mine and held. “I can’t wait to make a baby with you.”
Even distracted by the coiling tension in my womb, I knew my eyes must have popped wide. We’d discussed having children, so I already knew he wanted kids. I just hadn’t realized how much. Now the desire was blazoned across his face—a primitive drive to procreate that made my pussy flutter around his invading cock.
Images flashed through my mind of him cradling a baby with green eyes like his and wisps of hair the same light blonde as mine. Of him building a tree house and giving piggyback rides to a little girl or boy. I’d never thought such homey fantasies had a place during lovemaking, but I now discovered they had an instinctive sort of appeal.
I liked the idea of him filling me with his seed, mixing his essence with mine to create something uniquely ours. Just not yet. We planned to wait until the house was done and we had time to grow into the marriage. For now, my birth control would make sure we stuck to the plan.
“I know,” he said. “Not yet.”
He seemed to read my thoughts, or at least my expression. I could tell he was disappointed.
I tangled my fingers in his choppy curls and pulled him down for a kiss. Our tongues dueled until his increased pace made the position too difficult to hold. His cheek was rough where he dropped it against my neck, and the threat of whisker burn made me hyperaware of the teasing rub of his chest hair against my sensitive nipples. Both sensations combined to whip me more quickly toward the crest.
A shift of his knees gave him better leverage and caused him to penetrate me more deeply. Each forward plunge drilled pleasure into my clasping sheath, causing my pussy to clutch and drag at his shuttling length. He pumped into me with mounting urgency and grunted on every in-stroke until there was hardly a beat of silence in between.
I slid my hand down to where his lower back flexed and gave up trying to keep pace with his furious thrusting. His iron-hard cock rasped and teased every nerve in my channel until I thought I couldn’t take any more. He didn’t make me wait.
With a final lunge, he brought me off, causi
ng my vagina to contract around his length. The hot pulses of his orgasm accompanied mine so that I felt like my sheath was sucking the cum right out of him. His groan of ecstasy made me come long and hard before my climax faded. He fell boneless on top of me, crushing me against the mattress.
Although I couldn’t breathe properly, I didn’t care. This was my favorite part of making love with Chuck, aside from the wonderful orgasms he gave me. Face still buried against my neck, he wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. I felt so close to him as I stroked his back and wound one of his damp curls around my fingertip. Moments like these made me realize how lonely I’d been before I was married.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“Love you too.” His words were muffled against my damp skin.
A minute later, the spell was broken. Chuck rolled onto his back and released a loud sigh that boosted my ego. It sounded like I’d worn him out. For my part, I felt deliciously loose and well used.
Knowing he’d soon be asleep, I headed for the shower to clean up. The cascade of warm water offered me a different kind of bliss—something else I had my handy husband to thank for. He had recently installed a special showerhead with adjustable nozzles. The massaging jets felt so good I lingered longer than I needed to.
Chuck was still napping when I returned to the bedroom. The phone rang just then, and I hurried to answer it before the sound disturbed him. A familiar male voice greeted me on the other end of the line.
“Hold on,” I whispered.
I had to be careful not to trip on discarded clothes as I tiptoed out of the bedroom. Once I reached the hallway, I closed the new squeak-free door behind me and moved far enough away that I wouldn’t wake my husband.
“Hi, baby.” I clutched the phone in one hand while I held my towel in place with the other. “I didn’t expect to hear from you this early.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. I’m actually calling because I need a favor.” Charles spoke with his usual take-charge tone. “I left a couple of files at the house this morning. Is there any way you can bring those to me? I really need them.”
