Chapter 5

Crowded, long and bumpy, the flight home took forever, and after driving into the empty garage, I sat and stared at the wall of tools. The familiar soft squeal and thud told me the door had sealed behind the car.

Only then did I let exhaustion overwhelm me. With a whimper, my forehead thumped on the warm steering wheel and a long sigh escaped my cracked lips. However, a grin appeared as the comforting aroma of our little house filled my nostrils. At last, home once more.

Whose home? Rochelle’s or Laura’s?

Who had suckled like a horny slut?

After jerking upright, I gazed at my wide eyes in the rearview mirror. Punctuated by a series of nervous swallows, the unbidden questions kept surfacing until, with a shrug, I pulled my luggage upstairs and ran a hot bath.

Did it matter? Rochelle is me. Oh, God.

With each thought driving my pulse higher, I read the comments on the video. As soon as I’d approved its upload, Derrin placed a teaser on the main page—my hand sliding along Dave’s glistening rod. And yes, the diamonds in my wedding band glinted in the flickering faux candlelight. With a smile, I saw that he’d placed the rest of the film behind the pay wall.

“Nobody’s gonna pay for...” My whisper faded as I checked the stats. Subscriptions were skyrocketing! “What? For me?”

While waiting for the tub to fill, I perused the viewer feedback. Some remarks were unkind. But those were rare. Indeed, most were quite complimentary, if not downright graphic. With the bathroom swirling, my hand slapped to the countertop to steady myself as I stared into the mirror. Yes, little old me had left an impression on my fans.

Holy crap! I have fans!

Since acting in a successful college play, I’d nothing close to fans. Dave had been among them. But none of them offered to buy me plane tickets, nor paid the sums of money dumping every minute into my shiny new corporate account. Yes, I still had a way to go before we’d be financially secure, but...

“One video,” I muttered while gathering my hair into a ponytail. “A single evening photo shoot.”

When my exhausted frame sank into a mountain of fluffy, flower-scented bubbles and scalding water, a sigh blasted from my lips. Dave wouldn’t be home from the plant for several hours. Though I was still thinking, my eyes fluttered shut.

“What should I do next?” I whispered as a hand slid over my boobs, nudging their stiffening, rubbery stems.

Of course, Derrin had left the option open.

Nothing. Nothing at all, unless my hubby agrees. Now, how do I get him to agree?

Later, as the aroma of our favorite Chinese takeout flooded a dated but functional kitchen, my chest grew tighter at the sound of the garage door raising. As I wiped sweaty palms on my shorts, my fingers trembled. At first, my plan had been to dress sexier, but then decided against it. It would’ve been too different. And I’d no wish to scare Dave any more than he was. When I sent him the account balance earlier, he’d read the text, but not replied.

While placing the last white cardboard boxes on a battered and chipped dark wooden dining table, I couldn’t stop nervous gulping. The door from the garage opened and my husband’s worn shoes shuffled across the kitchen tile. With a long sigh, I glanced at his reflection in the glass cabinets and plastered a smile on my face before turning.

Dressed in a crinkled, tatty dark suit, his plain tie askew, he walked closer. After flashing me a tight grin, he looked at the meal on the table, raised his eyebrows and returned his gaze to me. It was rare for us to order takeout—too expensive. When he tugged me into his arms, my smile widened.

Then he kissed me.

And he was hungry—not just for food. As our lips mashed together, his hands roamed up under my t-shirt to fondle my braless chest. Okay, I was a little sexy. As moans escaped from our swirling tongues, I thrust myself against him. Unlike the other Dave, the immovable wall of basalt muscles, my husband rocked backwards, stumbling into the sideboard.

“You’d better get upstairs and change before you ruin that nice suit,” With a chuckle, I groped his swelling crotch. “Horny man.”

After a swift nod, he squeezed my butt and sauntered across our small living room to climb the creaking staircase. Huffing, I swayed against a chair. God, how I loved that man.

Once back downstairs in shorts and a t-shirt, he sat and described his week. With only the occasional brief glance at me, he stared at his plate and explained in a monotone voice. His boss was an asshole, pushing Dave to work far beyond the other employees. Plus, another promotion opportunity had come and gone. Afterwards, I cleared the table, leaving him to sit in silence, drinking water.

When I opened a bottle of wine and poured each of us a glass, he gave me a look. That look of “we shouldn’t.” Usually, we saved gift bottles and only drank them at special events. After sliding a wineglass into his hand, I sashayed past him to the couch. Earlier I’d linked my laptop, sitting on the coffee table, to the wall-mounted wide-screen. Intrigued, he followed me over and sat next to me.

“You saw the account?” I tapped his glass with mine. Heart racing so fast my shaking fingers sloshed the wine, I grinned at him.

“Yes.” He took a long sip and sighed before leaning back. After licking his lips, he sipped once more and gazed at the blank screen. For a while, he sat motionless before speaking in a low, wavering voice. “That’s a lot of money for just ... I mean, you are hot in them, but...”

My dear hubby was many things, but stupid was not one of them. Those narrowed eyes flashed to me. They squinted tighter as his hand slid onto and squeezed my bare thigh. My abrupt gulp was louder than expected, and my chest tightened like a steel drum. After leaning forward, I tapped on the keyboard. The second set of balcony photos appeared on the widescreen.

Although the topless ones got him breathing quicker, he emitted a groan at the sudden appearance of his namesake. As his face flushed crimson, his gaze flicked to me before returning to the monitor.

When the swelling between his widening legs forced him to adjust his shorts with each more graphic photo, I swallowed a gasp. Though braced for anger, and perhaps some kind of snide comment about the other Dave, he was becoming more aroused. Instead of jealousy, my Dave, the man I loved, was moaning under his breath as he watched shots of me grinding against and groping another man. While I caught both my performance and his unexpected reaction, my stomach fluttered. Parts below my stomach were also fluttering.

After taking our glasses and placing them on the coffee table, I tossed my t-shirt to the floor and slipped from the shorts. The aroma of my arousal overwhelmed the lingering food smell as I shoved him onto his back on the couch. The last photos of Mia’s slender finger rubbing and her glossy lips sucking my nipple played on the screen. When I lowered his waistband and tugged out that sleek rod, his wild eyes flicked from the shots to me. As his lips parted to speak, I slid a fingertip across them.

“Shh, baby,” I whispered, while yanking aside my panties.

In one swift motion that had the universe smearing, I dropped, engulfing him. Our eyes locked, and my walls squeezed all along his shaft. Jaw tight, he hissed through clenched teeth, and his eyelids flew open. Once my palms settled on his chest, I rose and fell, stroking him.

After so much time with Big Max, Dave’s penis was nothing, and I milked him with long, powerful motions. As his jaw pulsed, those wild eyes watered. Nope, it wasn’t anything at all similar to our usual lovemaking. Never before had I fucked him like this.

When his hands lifted to caress my breasts, I leaned forward and sped up. His smaller rod had one benefit; its firm helmet scraped nicely against my most sensitive area. As my abdomen tightened in great pulses, waves of heat flared through me. Stunned expression gone, he stared at me until his eyes rolled back into his head. At his legs shaking, I raced even faster. He was close. After leaning further, I ran my tongue along his quivering jaw while he grunted.

“Did he fuck you?”

At the soft whisper from his parted lips, I jerked. My mind blanked. It was a good question. Had other Dave fucked me on that bed before Derrin and Mia? Or had Big Max fucked me? As a low moan rumbled in the rear of my throat, I swept my lips over his tightening neck muscles.

By the definition of the word, I guess not. Besides, it’d been Rochelle.

Anyway, the handy giant had helped me masturbate for my fans. The ones paying lots of money even as I rode quicker. As I nipped and chewed under my husband’s neck, he arched into me and groaned.

“Nuh-uh,” I murmured.

When he nodded, it was weird. For a brief second, the tiniest flash of disappointment flickered behind those glossy irises. Ribcage constricting, I swallowed.

Playing with fire. What the hell is he thinking about?

Then my gaze flicked to the screen. The world clarified. I would’ve fucked him. With a grin, I swirled my tongue back up to his ear and whispered, “But he tasted wonderful.”

With a moan ripping from me, I held on as Dave slammed his pelvis upward with enough force to drive me into the air. As I screamed and bounded atop his hammering body, the love of my life stroked me like a crazed rabbit. Combined with my continued efforts to milk his racing shaft, we both stared into each other’s eyes.

At last, I mashed my lips onto his groaning mouth. We cried out together. Massive electrical flares arced across my writhing frame. He clasped me to him while he spasmed inside my undulating pussy, flooding me with his hot seed. The seed that had given us two wonderful boys.

As we held each other, panting and caressing one another, he was silent. His eyes kept flicking to the last photo. Like I said, he wasn’t stupid. On the screen, I was groping Hunky Dave, but he still wore shorts. With a final swift kiss, I slipped from his arms, letting his shrinking rod slurp free of me. As he sat upright, my husband groaned and his back creaked. After a quick sip of wine, I handed the glass to him and tapped the laptop again.

To read this story you need a Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In or Register (Why register?)

Support the author's future writing by purchasing this book from Bookapy

Owning My Image

INtrinSicliValud

$4.99