by Allie Ritch
I thought at first he wouldn’t do it. Chad had the most finesse of my lovers and usually liked to take me face-to-face so he could watch my every reaction. Even now, he ran a comforting hand along my spine before he gripped my hip. Then he thrust into me so sharply my back bowed.
Trapped, I keened around a mouthful of cock. Chad did as instructed and reamed me. My moisture and excitement turned what could have been a painful bombardment into pure bliss. It felt more like Charles was taking me, except my domineering husband was in front of me, still forcing his thick cock in and out of my mouth. The dichotomy of the penetration had an explosive orgasm coalescing at my core.
No honeyed words escaped Chad as he took me hard and deep and fast. Instead, he only managed a few shouts between grunts, using what I was pretty sure was the f word in French along with something about his bite bandante—his hard cock. His solid length made me surge closer and closer to orgasm with every forward lunge. The smack of wet skin filled the air.
Then Chad canted his hips and hit the sweet spot that made my whole body quake. It was too much, the pleasure so intense it was unbearable. I tried to twist away, but their dual grip kept me pinned. He hit the bull’s-eye again and again until I screamed. Then my climax ripped free, and I didn’t have enough breath to holler.
Charles pushed down and made me swallow his cock as my sheath contracted in endless spasms. Chad drew up tight and barked out his release, spurting hot semen inside me with quick jerks of his dick. My channel continued to ripple and convulse until he came up dry.
I didn’t realize how desperate I was for air until Charles released me. He offered me a clear view of his rigid erection as he lifted my head. At the same time, Chad pulled his wilting cock out of my pussy. He sat down on the tile behind me and tugged me back to lean against his chest.
“Grab her under the knees and pull her legs back,” Charles told him.
Unable to bear the thought of more stimulation, I tried to escape, but Chad didn’t let me get away. He used his superior strength to haul my legs toward my breasts and split them open. Charles came down over me to fit the slick head of his cock to my opening.
“Don’t worry, Fila. This won’t take long.” He kissed me and gave my lower lip a quick bite before he shoved his whole length into me.
I squealed.
At this angle, Charles was almost driving straight down as he thrust. I expected another primal assault, but instead he moved with slow, smooth deliberation. On every in-stroke, he wiggled his hips round and round like he was threading a screw. The rotation made him hit every nerve my sheath had, electrifying me all the way to my scalp.
Each time he filled me, he moved a little faster, though he maintained the pattern. Soon he worked my vagina like a power drill, all friction and force, impossible to resist. I would have squeezed him with my thighs, but Chad had me pinned wide open.
“Come on, baby.” The look of determination on Charles’s face was almost frightening. “Be a good girl and come for me. Grab my dick with those lovely pulses.”
I tossed my head back and forth against Chad’s shoulder. The spray from the shower got in my eyes, but I didn’t care. The next time Charles corkscrewed that magnificent cock deep, he ground against my clit and triggered my release. I panted and jerked as this second orgasm tore through me, making my pussy suck so hard on his dick he was practically vacuum sealed inside me. The spasms of my orgasm double-timed it, causing me to wail before he shoved his cock a little deeper and released his seed.
When he was done, he gave my mons a gentle pat before he pulled out. Chad had to help me to my feet and prop me up as we all rinsed clean.
“Better than espresso,” Charles announced. “But now I really have to get going. I’ll see you tonight—on time, as promised.” He gave me a quick kiss and stepped out of the shower.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or throw something at him. It was a good thing Chad was still there, holding me close and running his hands up and down my back. At least he had more tact.
“Are you all right?” He helped me towel off when we got out. “We weren’t too rough with you, were we?”
I was definitely sore, but in a good way. “You were wonderful. I would have let you know if it was too much. You guys would never hurt me.”
“Never.” Chad caught my lips in a long, passionate kiss as if to give his oath on that.
It was hard for me to pull away so I could go get dressed. Unfortunately, shock deprived me of any further enjoyment of my morning when I walked out and saw what time it was. It looked like I’d be eating breakfast on the run today. I was already cutting it close.
* * * *
My rush to the office pretty much set the tone for the rest of the day. I arrived at work to discover the office manager had quit, and a couple of other people had called in sick. The place was plunged into temporary chaos, and I hardly had a minute to breathe all day.
The only bright side was I was too busy to think about my parents’ impending visit. As I wrapped things up at the end of the workday, however, I could feel the anxiety hit me again. My mom and dad were coming. Tonight. To meet my three husbands.
There was no controlling their reaction, so all I could do was make sure the initial meeting went as smoothly as possible. I remembered to check my messages—something I intended to brag about to Chad—and wrote down the list of ingredients my husband had dictated in his recording. List in hand, I raced directly from work to the grocery store, where I almost had a meltdown when I couldn’t locate the manicotti shells.
“Spaghetti, thin spaghetti, ravioli, penne, ziti…” I muttered to myself as I went down the shelf reading the names on all the boxes.
You couldn’t serve manicotti without the actual pasta. Then it would just be shapeless cheese sitting in a plate of sauce. Where were the manicotti shells?
“…bow tie, vermicelli, fusilli, macaroni, fettucine, tortellini. Orzo? What the hell is orzo? Is this some kind of conspiracy?”
“What are you looking for, dear?”
I turned to find a little old lady in eye-popping green pants looking at me.
“Manicotti.”
She pointed one soft hand toward the bottom corner.
“Yes!” I snatched it up and clutched the box to my chest. “You’re a lifesaver. I was about to tear my hair out.”
Her smile was benign. “Making a special dinner tonight?”
“Something like that. Actually, my husband is doing the cooking, so all I have to do is have everything ready for him. My parents are coming for a visit.”
“Your husband cooks?” She shot me a wink. “Better hold on to him, dear.”
The remark was so unexpected it startled a laugh out of me. “Oh, I intend to.” From now till death do us part.
I said good-bye and booked it toward the dairy section.
Thirty minutes later, I arrived home with everything I needed. I nearly had a heart attack when I spotted Chuck out mowing the lawn. He killed the machine when I stepped out of the car and motioned him over.
“What are you doing? You’re mowing now?”
“I want the yard to look nice.” Clearly unaffected by my frantic state, Chuck leaned in to kiss me hello. “Don’t worry. I already put fresh sheets on the bed in the spare room and gave the carpet in there a quick vacuum.”
“Which guest room did you choose?”
“The one at the far end of the hall. I figured that would give us a bit more privacy, and there haven’t been any knocking sounds in the bathroom since I tied down all the pipes in the walls.”
Okay, so we were in better shape than I’d thought. I hadn’t been sure if he’d remember.
“That was good thinking.” I looked him over, trying not to get too distracted by how his sweaty shirt clung to his skin. “You’re not overdoing it, are you? You’re still healing from that fall.”
He shrugged off my concern. “The bruises look worse than they feel. I’m a little tender, but I’m not in pain anymore.”
Although I was skeptical, I knew he’d get stubborn if I tried to make him take it easy. “If you say so. Please finish fast so you can clean up and get changed. My parents could be here any moment.”
“I thought you said they wouldn’t be here until five.”
“No!” Already on edge, I snapped at him more harshly than I meant to. I had to take a deep, calming breath. “I said they probably wouldn’t arrive until after five. My mom didn’t give me a time frame. Since she knows at least one of my husbands and I work, I’m guessing she and my dad won’t show up until they’re certain we’ll be home, but I don’t know that for sure.”
“Why didn’t you call her back and ask what time they’d be here?”
“Because my last conversation with my mother didn’t end well. I didn’t think it was wise to attempt another call.” And because, truthfully, I was a coward. If I could have put off the coming meeting, I would have.
I walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk. “Please. I’m stressed, and I don’t mean to take it out on you. You’ll make me feel a lot better if you hurry up and finish out here so you can help me inside.”
“Hey.” Chuck caught my hand when I would have grabbed the nearest grocery bag. He pulled me closer and gave me another kiss. “You’ve got yourself worked up over nothing, honey. Everything will be fine.” His lips twitched. “If your parents show up too early, we’ll just lock the door and pretend we’re not home.”
An image of us diving to the floor and hiding behind furniture flashed through my mind. The thought made me snort, which loosened some of my tension. I rested my head on Chuck’s shoulder for a minute.
“Why don’t we use that strategy the whole weekend?” I suggested.
He clucked his tongue.
With a laugh, I straightened and turned back to the trunk to unload the groceries.
“Want some help with these?” Chuck asked.
Given the number of bags, my first impulse was to say yes, but then I caught sight of the grass clippings stuck to the legs of his jeans.
“Thanks, honey, but I’ve got it. Please don’t forget to strip down out back when you’re done. I don’t want you to track in.”
“No problem.” He closed the car trunk for me after I removed the last bag. “I’ve just got to finish up and do the edging, and I’ll be in.”
I turned and headed for the door before he could see me roll my eyes. One of the best things about Chuck was his willingness to tackle anything you put on his to-do list. And one of the worst things about Chuck was his refusal to deviate from his daily to-do list once he got started. His in-laws—his potentially hostile in-laws—could descend upon him at any moment, and he had to edge the grass. I might have thought Genetic Harmony had given him this strange anomaly if I hadn’t known most of my male relatives were the exact same way.
By the time I set the grocery bags on the counter, detoured to the powder room, and then returned to the kitchen, the low growl of the mower had been replaced by a higher buzzing noise I recognized as the edger. This soundtrack kept me company while I unpacked everything and double-checked that I’d remembered to buy all the ingredients.
Before bed the previous night, Chad and I had agreed I’d better take care of the dessert. The rosemary and lemon cake was relatively simple to mix up, but it did take time to bake. We wanted it to be cool in plenty of time to serve. Chuck was right that I should have called my mom about the timing since it was difficult to plan a dinner with no clear ETA. Knowing my mother’s aversion to fast food, though, I was certain my parents would arrive hungry. I got to work beating together the batter.
I had just put the cake pan in the oven and set the timer when Chuck walked through the back door and into the kitchen. As directed, he’d stripped out of his yard clothes, which were probably sitting in a messy pile right outside the door. This left him in nothing but a pair of pale blue boxer shorts and yummy, naked skin.
“All done.” He grabbed a glass and filled it with water. “This place is looking pretty good.”
He was the one who was looking good. His tan skin was dewy with sweat, and he’d brought in the earthy scent of fresh-cut grass. I watched, mesmerized, as he tipped back his drink, and his throat worked with every swallow. A bead of condensation slipped down the side of the glass. Before it reached his bottom lip, it slid along the curve and stayed poised there for an endless moment. Then it plopped onto his sternum and ran in a tiny rivulet toward his waistband. My gaze followed the trail until it disappeared.
Chuck was staring at me when I glanced back up. A small grin played at his lips, and he set the empty glass aside. Unlike Charles, Chuck didn’t order me to come to him. Instead, he stalked toward me with slow, deliberate steps and lime-green eyes that had turned as deep as a tropical jungle.
His gaze remained locked on mine as he crowded me and caged me in his arms. He swept one bold, work-roughened hand down my back to cup my butt.
I squeaked. “What are you doing?”
“What any red-blooded man does when his wife looks at him like that.” He pulled me closer so I could feel his erection prodding me through the thin material of his boxer shorts.
A moan escaped me. Without conscious thought, I reached around to his firm derriere and grabbed my own handful. I tipped back my head when he kissed my neck all the way from my ear to my shoulder.
“What’s gotten into you?”
I should have been putting a stop to this. Chuck rarely got so frisky, and this wasn’t the time. But his hands and mouth felt so good.
“I always want you,” he answered. “Right now I want inside you.”
“My parents.” He had me so wound up I had to gasp for air. I struggled to hold on to my wits. “They could be here any minute.”
“Better hurry, then.” He reached behind me to pull down the zipper of my dress.
With the back open, he could shove the short sleeves off my arms and bare my torso. I drenched my panties when he used his teeth to pull each bra strap off my shoulders before he popped the clasp and let the undergarment fall to the floor. His free hand found my breast, plumping and chafing it with obvious relish.
He caught my lips with his and stroked into my mouth with his tongue. I released my grip on the taut globe of his butt to clutch his sweaty shoulders with both hands. His muscles flexed beneath his skin.
Without breaking the kiss, Chuck tried to shove my dress past my hips, but I had on a thin belt that got in the way. I was about to undo the buckle when he flipped up my skirt and pulled down my panties instead. The silky material of my underwear whispered against the thigh-high stockings I’d put on today.
He backed me toward the refrigerator and pressed me against the cold door. With my dress bunched around my waist, I felt the chill against my shoulders and buttocks. I clutched the door handle for support as I watched him pull his long, hard dick out through the fly of his boxers. In the next instant, he had my stocking-clad leg hooked over his hip and the crown of that glorious cock shoved against my opening.
He slowly curled the fingers of his free hand to overlap my fist on the refrigerator door handle. His grip tightened a split second before he pushed up and slid his shaft deep.
“Oh!” I yelped at the sudden intrusion and then sighed in pleasure.
Sandwiched between his steamy body and the fridge, I was trapped between hot and cold. The contrast made me even more aware of the scorching brand lodged between my legs. Chuck took his time drawing back his hips before he lurched forward again with a quick jab of his cock. He repeated the deliberate thrust twice. After the third time, he rested his forehead against the cool door above my left shoulder and took me in earnest.
He grunted and groaned, and I keened right along with him. Somewhere inside the refrigerator, the clack of a glass jar marked our rhythm. A ridiculous part of me wondered if it was the jar of pickles, all those plump, phallic vegetables bumping together in there. I was inundated with the scent of sweaty male, grass, rosemary,
and lemon—the recipe for a wicked-hot orgasm.
My womb tightened in anticipation. “Please.”
Chuck increased his tempo, pummeling me with his cock like a horny teenager, except he had the expertise to make each stroke count. He slid the bulbous head right over my most sensitive nerve endings and maintained the perfect angle for a smooth glide. As we came together, the base of his cock hit my clit with just the right pressure, and his pubic hair tickled mine.
I held tight to his shoulder with my free hand and swung my other leg up so I could lock my ankles around his waist. This pushed his dick even deeper into my channel and made him grind my clit so perfectly I screamed. His pace faltered for only a moment before he adjusted his balance to hold my full weight. Then he started working me with single-minded focus.
In and out, hard and deep. His hips were tireless as he banged me. Inside, his stiff length stretched me wide and tore pleasure through my vaginal walls with every pass. Thanks to the bumpy ride, my right shoe jiggled off and made a loud whack when it hit the floor behind him. I curled my toes.
An eternity later, my pussy gave three slow ripples before bursting into the heavy flutters of an orgasm. I tightened my legs around his waist and held him close as I came. The refrigerator shuddered at my back as he rode out my climax with staccato thrusts.
“Ahhh!” He half barked, half groaned the exclamation when he finally joined me at the peak.
The sound was so filled with pleasure and relief it made my pussy lock on to him with renewed vigor. Chuck pushed his cock as deep as it would go and kept me pinned while it thumped and spit with each pulse of his ejaculate. He filled me to overflowing.
My brain had to send the message twice before my legs obeyed and unwound from his waist. I kept my grip on the refrigerator handle until I was sure I had my balance. Tingles spread through my knuckles and wrist when he released my hand and I finally let go. I looked up into his face and saw him wearing a dopey grin.
His expression made my heart turn over. “I love you, Chuck.” I loved him, and I was going to tell him so every day.
