Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
She opens her mouth to say something, what I’m not sure, because I lower my head to taste her. The sweet taste of her pussy explodes on my tongue.
“Stanley,” she moans my name. I’m not wasting any time as my tongue presses against her clit. Her legs tighten around my head, and I groan, letting her know how much I love it. I don’t let up as I slide one long index finger inside her.
“I want you.” She’s breathless, and the sound has me increasing my efforts.
I need her to come, because I know that as soon as I’m buried balls deep inside her, I’m not going to last long. Her legs squeeze tighter, which only makes me pump my hand faster. “S—Stanley, please.”
Damn, but I love it when she’s needy and begging for me. I suck down on her clit, and that’s all it takes. I feel her body convulsing around my hand as her release washes over her. As soon as her legs start to relax, I stand, pull my cock out of my boxer briefs, and push inside her.
I help her to wrap her legs around my waist as I rock gently. She tries to sit up, so I help her. “You feel good wrapped around my cock,” I whisper against her lips.
“So good.” She nods. I pump into her a few more times, rocking slowly, before placing her back on the table. Her ass is hanging off the edge, giving me room to grip the backs of her thighs as I race toward my release.
I can feel her tightening around my cock, and I grin. She’s close. There’s nothing better than my wife coming on my cock as I find my release inside her. Moving my hand between us, I gently trace over her clit with my thumb.
“I need you with me, Lena.”
She moans, and her pussy squeezes me.
“You gonna come with me, baby?”
She nods, but no words escape her lips. I thrust once more and lose control when she screams out my name. I lose myself inside her as her body spasms around me. At this moment, I truly feel like I’m a part of her, and she’s a part of me. So much so, I don’t know where she ends and I begin.
Leaning over, I press my lips to hers. I take my time exploring her mouth before finally pulling back and helping her sit up.
“We’re really good at that,” she says, offering me a lazy smile.
“I agree. We should enlist the grandparents more often.”
She nods and bites down on her bottom lip. I can tell there’s something she wants to say, but she’s hesitant.
“What’s on your mind, baby?”
She releases her lip, and a grin lights up her face. “We’re going to need a bigger table.”
“What?” I laugh. “We can clean this one. No one will ever know.”
She nods. “Yeah, but it’s not going to be big enough.”
“Babe, this table seats eight.”
“Yeah, but with five kids and five daughters-in-law, and then you and me, we need at least twelve, and three more if you add in our parents and guests.”
It takes me a minute to catch on to what she just said. “Five kids?”
She nods, tears swimming in her eyes as she takes my hand and places it over her belly. “Baby number five.”
“When did you find out?”
“This morning. I’ve been feeling tired, and I’m a few days late.”
“Another baby.” There is awe in my voice.
This is magic.
Our magic.
“I’ll buy you a bigger table.” I nod. “You tell me how big you want it, and it’s done.”
“At least enough for sixteen. My mom might one day find herself a companion.” Her eyes mist over. I know she misses her dad every single day.
“Done.” I scoop her up in my arms and start for the bedroom. We have a few more hours before we go to pick up the boys. We need a shower, and then, if I’m lucky, I’ll make love to her again before we have to clean up the kitchen and the table that’s about to be donated because my wife wants one that will seat sixteen.
“Okay, boys, remember we have to be easy with Mommy and your baby brother.” I have all four boys standing outside of Lena’s hospital room.
“What’s his name?” six-year-old Owen asks.
“I’m going to let Mommy tell you what we decided to name him.”
“I get to hold him first. I’m the oldest,” Royce says.
“I’m next!” Owen says, his six-year-old voice carrying down the hallway.
“Shh, remember inside voices.”
“I’m next,” he whispers, and I bite down on my cheek to hide my grin.
“Me too, Daddy,” Grant says. He’s four and mimics every move of his two older brothers.
“Baby,” Conrad says, resting his head on my shoulder. He’s two and, like Grant, tries his damndest to keep up with his older brothers.