of him needing her, taking her, not fighting the impulse to claim her? That wasn’t something he would do once and walk away from. Not even the couple times he’d already been lucky enough to make it happen. It wasn’t enough. Not ever.
He renewed his vow to continue that particular desire ’til the day he died.
They turned onto another street and his mind wandered to his next fantasy.
One he’d had for a very long time.
Something he’d wanted to do for as long as they’d been together. But he’d never tried it.
A fantasy he’d never broached with her because the concept was such a distinct line in the sand. One of those choices people made with an inability to see what lay beyond that decision.
He could never undo it.
They could never undo it.
His decision to go through with it would change things.
Irrevocably change things, as if he were opening Pandora’s box.
Once it opened…
And therein lies the rub. He didn’t know what would happen after he opened it. He wasn’t certain how Aslan would react or if she’d be okay with it. During or after.
Taking a deep breath, he realized he trusted her. Not trusted her as if she would do something behind his back—because he knew without a shadow of doubt she would never do that. But he trusted her to tell him if something was wrong. He trusted her to stop him…them…if anything ever happened to make her lose her way.
Pulling up to a stop light, he knew he only had a few more minutes before they would be home. Did he have to make the call now, right this moment? No, of course not. He could wait, he could think about it more, he could talk himself out of it, or he could go in circles again.
He wasn’t going to do that anymore.
They agreed to let their reservations go and fulfill each other’s desires. One for her, one for him, back and forth.
Learning each other, exploring.
It had been eye-opening and thinking he would go too far still scared him shitless on a daily basis.
Trust.
Flipping through his contacts, he brought up the one he needed. The only person he could trust with this. Trust with his wife. He swiped to place the call and prayed he was making the right choice.
Zeke pulled into the garage just as the call ended. He’d set his fantasy in motion and would have word back the next day on timing.
He pocketed his phone as he stepped into the house and closed the door behind him. “Honey, I’m home,” he called to Aslan.
“Honey, I’m naked in the bedroom.”
Hot damn.
Best game of Marco Polo he’d played in years.
Unbuckling his belt, he stripped everything off before he hit the bedroom door. “Fuck,” he groaned as he stepped inside.
Aslan on her knees on the bed, with her ass facing him, was a sight he would never tire of seeing. Especially with the red lines he’d made earlier with his belt across her lovely flesh.
She stretched out on her stomach and spread her legs. The pink lips of her pussy called to him and he heard every word.
Climbing onto the mattress, he moved between her thighs and she sighed as he settled above her.
With some spit on his hand, he wet the head of his throbbing cock. Aslan adjusted her body, tilting her pelvis to meet him as he pushed inside her still-filled channel.
Home.
That’s what she was as he slid through her wetness until he was balls deep inside.
She was more than home.
Freedom, hope, faith, pleasure, need.
All of those emotions warred for dominance inside him as he stared at the muscles in her back as they contracted on each stroke. “I thought you’d be completely spent by now. Sore?” Leaning onto one hand, he lifted the other to run his fingers over the raised lines across her ass.
She hissed, which ended on a moan as he smoothed his palm across the marks he’d put on her earlier.
“Sore,” she admitted, and then bit her bottom lip. “Deliciously sore. You were right.”
“Right about what, beautiful?”
“I’ll definitely remember what happened for the next
He renewed his vow to continue that particular desire ’til the day he died.
They turned onto another street and his mind wandered to his next fantasy.
One he’d had for a very long time.
Something he’d wanted to do for as long as they’d been together. But he’d never tried it.
A fantasy he’d never broached with her because the concept was such a distinct line in the sand. One of those choices people made with an inability to see what lay beyond that decision.
He could never undo it.
They could never undo it.
His decision to go through with it would change things.
Irrevocably change things, as if he were opening Pandora’s box.
Once it opened…
And therein lies the rub. He didn’t know what would happen after he opened it. He wasn’t certain how Aslan would react or if she’d be okay with it. During or after.
Taking a deep breath, he realized he trusted her. Not trusted her as if she would do something behind his back—because he knew without a shadow of doubt she would never do that. But he trusted her to tell him if something was wrong. He trusted her to stop him…them…if anything ever happened to make her lose her way.
Pulling up to a stop light, he knew he only had a few more minutes before they would be home. Did he have to make the call now, right this moment? No, of course not. He could wait, he could think about it more, he could talk himself out of it, or he could go in circles again.
He wasn’t going to do that anymore.
They agreed to let their reservations go and fulfill each other’s desires. One for her, one for him, back and forth.
Learning each other, exploring.
It had been eye-opening and thinking he would go too far still scared him shitless on a daily basis.
Trust.
Flipping through his contacts, he brought up the one he needed. The only person he could trust with this. Trust with his wife. He swiped to place the call and prayed he was making the right choice.
Zeke pulled into the garage just as the call ended. He’d set his fantasy in motion and would have word back the next day on timing.
He pocketed his phone as he stepped into the house and closed the door behind him. “Honey, I’m home,” he called to Aslan.
“Honey, I’m naked in the bedroom.”
Hot damn.
Best game of Marco Polo he’d played in years.
Unbuckling his belt, he stripped everything off before he hit the bedroom door. “Fuck,” he groaned as he stepped inside.
Aslan on her knees on the bed, with her ass facing him, was a sight he would never tire of seeing. Especially with the red lines he’d made earlier with his belt across her lovely flesh.
She stretched out on her stomach and spread her legs. The pink lips of her pussy called to him and he heard every word.
Climbing onto the mattress, he moved between her thighs and she sighed as he settled above her.
With some spit on his hand, he wet the head of his throbbing cock. Aslan adjusted her body, tilting her pelvis to meet him as he pushed inside her still-filled channel.
Home.
That’s what she was as he slid through her wetness until he was balls deep inside.
She was more than home.
Freedom, hope, faith, pleasure, need.
All of those emotions warred for dominance inside him as he stared at the muscles in her back as they contracted on each stroke. “I thought you’d be completely spent by now. Sore?” Leaning onto one hand, he lifted the other to run his fingers over the raised lines across her ass.
She hissed, which ended on a moan as he smoothed his palm across the marks he’d put on her earlier.
“Sore,” she admitted, and then bit her bottom lip. “Deliciously sore. You were right.”
“Right about what, beautiful?”
“I’ll definitely remember what happened for the next
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