lived in the middle of bloody Nowheresville, getting a connection to Riverton wasn’t so simple. He had to change in Denver. The 6:15 am was fully booked. Damn, he’d have to wait until 10:40 and wouldn’t arrive until 3:42 pm. He’d ask Ruth to pick him up.
He dreaded admitting to Sylvia why he’d missed the plane. One thing Tommy hated about marriage was the I-Told-You-So factor. It was as if it had become a competition to see who could score the most points. He was losing big-time. He’d be in the doghouse now. Fuck.
He got up and went to sort out his new plane ticket. Texted his friend, Gus, to tell him he didn’t need to pick him up from the airport tonight after all, and Ruth to let her know his arrival time tomorrow. He booked himself into a motel—the closest one, which he could get to by shuttle.
“OH YEAH BABY, right there, that feels sooo good,” Tommy murmured. The girl’s hair swished back and forth over his cock; the soft tickling sensation was driving him wild. “Oh fuck,” he groaned as she took him in her mouth. He could feel how huge he was, how thick, as she sucked hard, not managing all of him because of his size. He laced his fingers through her silky hair, gripping her head, scraping his fingers gently along her scalp. If she didn’t stop soon, he’d come. Hard.
“Get on top of me,” he ordered. “Ride me. I want to feel myself inside you.”
The room was so dark he couldn’t even make her out. Her body was beautiful; long limbs, graceful arms. Yes, she was full of grace, like a dancer. She had a ballerina’s body. Breasts not too big, strong shoulders, a long neck. He gripped her pretty waist to guide her as she slid on top of him. He could feel his rock-hard erection stretch her open and she cried out—not in pain but with pure, girlish lust.
“Fuck me,” he said. “Really fuck me. I want to feel you come.”
She started her ride and it felt incredible, like ocean waves consuming him. Every time their bodies met—him deep, deep, inside her—she mewled, slapping her face on his, kissing him. Softly at first and then lashing at his tongue with hers, tangling, gasping, groaning each time she came down hard on him. She began to circle her hips, grinding herself into him. This woman could really fuck.
And how.
He raised his hips to meet hers and grabbed her ass, pulling her even closer towards him. Her hair flopped over his neck, his face, and she started moaning. He moved his large hands up and down her curvy butt, and felt beads of sweat gather on the small of her back. She was coming. She didn’t even have to say a word. But he could tell.
He knew her every movement. Her every sign.
“Sylvie,” he moaned into her mouth as he exploded into her. “I’m so in love with you. So in love.”
Tommy awoke with a start. He felt as if he’d overslept, but only a few hours had passed. He double-checked the alarm was set on his cell—he had several more hours sleep time.
He was still hard, even though he’d just come in his sleep. His erotic dream, starring his very own wife, reminded him how deep their bond was. How much he still needed her. Desired her. Fantasized about her.
He wished things hadn’t gotten so complicated.
His family, which had seemed so indestructible, was now as delicate as an eggshell. How had that happened?
He thought of Gracie. He couldn’t wait to get home to her and see her face when he gave her that sparkly pink guitar.
CHAPTER 11
Sylvia
I t had been such a full-on day, and even though Sylvia wanted to sleep more than anything, she couldn’t. She thought of Aunt Marcy. The hospital had told her to call back and she’d forgotten. Damn. Sylvia had offered to bring her to the house to look after her till Melinda arrived for the funeral, although her aunt was insistent that she could take good care of herself and wanted to go straight home. If she changed her mind, it would be a lot to take on all at once, but what was family for?
He dreaded admitting to Sylvia why he’d missed the plane. One thing Tommy hated about marriage was the I-Told-You-So factor. It was as if it had become a competition to see who could score the most points. He was losing big-time. He’d be in the doghouse now. Fuck.
He got up and went to sort out his new plane ticket. Texted his friend, Gus, to tell him he didn’t need to pick him up from the airport tonight after all, and Ruth to let her know his arrival time tomorrow. He booked himself into a motel—the closest one, which he could get to by shuttle.
“OH YEAH BABY, right there, that feels sooo good,” Tommy murmured. The girl’s hair swished back and forth over his cock; the soft tickling sensation was driving him wild. “Oh fuck,” he groaned as she took him in her mouth. He could feel how huge he was, how thick, as she sucked hard, not managing all of him because of his size. He laced his fingers through her silky hair, gripping her head, scraping his fingers gently along her scalp. If she didn’t stop soon, he’d come. Hard.
“Get on top of me,” he ordered. “Ride me. I want to feel myself inside you.”
The room was so dark he couldn’t even make her out. Her body was beautiful; long limbs, graceful arms. Yes, she was full of grace, like a dancer. She had a ballerina’s body. Breasts not too big, strong shoulders, a long neck. He gripped her pretty waist to guide her as she slid on top of him. He could feel his rock-hard erection stretch her open and she cried out—not in pain but with pure, girlish lust.
“Fuck me,” he said. “Really fuck me. I want to feel you come.”
She started her ride and it felt incredible, like ocean waves consuming him. Every time their bodies met—him deep, deep, inside her—she mewled, slapping her face on his, kissing him. Softly at first and then lashing at his tongue with hers, tangling, gasping, groaning each time she came down hard on him. She began to circle her hips, grinding herself into him. This woman could really fuck.
And how.
He raised his hips to meet hers and grabbed her ass, pulling her even closer towards him. Her hair flopped over his neck, his face, and she started moaning. He moved his large hands up and down her curvy butt, and felt beads of sweat gather on the small of her back. She was coming. She didn’t even have to say a word. But he could tell.
He knew her every movement. Her every sign.
“Sylvie,” he moaned into her mouth as he exploded into her. “I’m so in love with you. So in love.”
Tommy awoke with a start. He felt as if he’d overslept, but only a few hours had passed. He double-checked the alarm was set on his cell—he had several more hours sleep time.
He was still hard, even though he’d just come in his sleep. His erotic dream, starring his very own wife, reminded him how deep their bond was. How much he still needed her. Desired her. Fantasized about her.
He wished things hadn’t gotten so complicated.
His family, which had seemed so indestructible, was now as delicate as an eggshell. How had that happened?
He thought of Gracie. He couldn’t wait to get home to her and see her face when he gave her that sparkly pink guitar.
CHAPTER 11
Sylvia
I t had been such a full-on day, and even though Sylvia wanted to sleep more than anything, she couldn’t. She thought of Aunt Marcy. The hospital had told her to call back and she’d forgotten. Damn. Sylvia had offered to bring her to the house to look after her till Melinda arrived for the funeral, although her aunt was insistent that she could take good care of herself and wanted to go straight home. If she changed her mind, it would be a lot to take on all at once, but what was family for?
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