Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 71090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
She stayed silent for a few long seconds; so long, in fact, that I didn’t think she was going to say anything at all. But she surprised me.
“I’m not ever going to like him again…but that doesn’t mean I want him to have a horrible life.” I caught her shake her head out of the corner of my eye. “But I’m glad he’s going. He’s got a lot of ghosts in this town.”
I agreed.
“So … tomorrow I want to start looking for houses,” I said, tossing her a look.
She grimaced. “We have a house. Mine.”
I sighed. “Your house works for now, but I want room to grow. I want to have babies, and build tree forts. And your yard is the size of a postage stamp. Wouldn’t you like Molder to have a bigger yard to play in?”
I knew that’d work. She loved the hell out of Molder. Even though he ate my boots…and the walls.
“Fine,” she said stubbornly. “But I want a kiln.”
I snorted. “As if I wouldn’t agree to that. I find that when you’re covered in mud, you’re quite attractive and enticing.”
She stuck out her tongue. “I already said yes.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She growled at my comment.
Luckily we’d just pulled up to her place, where we now stayed.
Otherwise I would’ve had to endure the silent treatment. Again.
Not that she was very good at it.
Once we entered the house, she walked straight the bedroom where she let Molder out, and I immediately let him outside to pee.
Then I fed him, locked the doors, and made my way back to our bedroom.
I stripped off my shirt and started to sit down to take off my prosthesis when my eyes caught Blake in the mirror.
Half turning to see if what I was seeing was real, I gasped in horror.
“Please, for the love of all that’s holy, tell me you’re not using my razor,” I said to her stiffly.
She looked up from where she was shaving her pussy and smiled. “It is. Yours works way better than mine.”
I blinked in surprise, astounded that she’d answered me truthfully.
“You know it’s my razor…and yet you willingly continue using it,” I clarified.
She nodded. “Yep.”
No remorse in the woman whatsoever.
“You do realize,” I said, standing up on my one leg to get into the shower. “That that razor touches my face, correct?”
“Mmmm hmm,” she agreed, going back to shaving.
“Have you ever used it before?” I asked slowly.
She nodded. “Every time I shave.”
My mouth fell open in shock. Absolute shock that this woman…this crazy, exasperating woman, used my razor. The thing that shaved my face every single morning when I trimmed up for work.
“And you realize that that thing touches my face…right?” I said for a second time.
She nodded again, not bothering to answer that time.
I leaned back and flushed the toilet, eliciting an ear piercing scream out of her.
“What was that for?” She sputtered, as the ice cold water of the shower poured down onto her.
Her nipples hardened, and yet again, as always, my eyes zeroed in on those perky little buds.
“Stay away from me, you horny toad,” she hissed as she saw where my gaze had fastened on to.
“And if I don’t?” I taunted, staying seated with my prosthesis on the counter beside me.
She got out, leaving the shower running, and wrapped the towel around her chest, covering all that I loved to taste in one fluid motion.
“Oh,” she teased, walking out. “I’m sure I’ll find some way to get away from you.”
Warily, I looked around, trying to find what she’d do to me this time, yet couldn’t find anything wrong.
Shrugging it off, I stood, then realized that my crutch, as well as my cane, were no longer standing where I’d left them the previous night.
“Hey babe,” I called behind her. “Have you seen my crutch?”
She laughed.
The bitch laughed.
“Oh, you mean these?” She asked, poking her head around the corner.
Then she lifted up her hands, showing me the crutch and cane that were in her hand, as well as my prosthesis.
I glared at her. “Give them to me, you wench.”
She giggled. “And what do I get if I obey, oh lord and master?”
I started to hop to her, causing her to back away and start giggling once again.
I made it to the door to see her collapsed onto the bed wiping her tears.
“What are you laughing at, you little stealer?” I asked, hopping some more.
The moment I touched the bed, she started to rise, but I caught her ankle and pulled her back.
“Eeeek!” She squeaked. “Let me go.”
Pinning her down, I said, “No. Now tell me what has you laughing.”
She had to get out a few more giggles before she finally replied with, “Your dick.”
I ground my erection into her hip, letting her feel the rock hardness of it.
Something that was a constant bone of contention between me and my dick.
All the woman had to do sometimes was walk in a room, and it was rearing to go for her.
“My dick makes you laugh?” I confirmed.
She nodded. “Yes, you jumped in here and all I could focus on was the way your dick swung with each upward movement.”
I pinched her ass, and rolled her over onto her belly.
Then I pressed the tip of my cock against her entrance, and started to slide inside.
“So…who’s laughing now?”
She sobered. “Not me. Absolutely, one hundred percent, not me,” she said, pressing her ass back so I slipped further inside.
“I didn’t think so.”
Epilogue
Have fun. Be safe. Come home.
-Key chain
Blake
6 months later
“Let’s go, I don’t have all day,” Grandpa grumbled, doing his best not to smile.
I fluffed out my skirt one more time, turned in a circle, and grimaced.
I looked like a beached whale.
At five months pregnant, there wasn’t much a girl could do to hide the fact.
I wasn’t blessed with one of those small bellies, either.
I was blessed with a large one. One that didn’t hide a single damn thing.
“You’re pregnant. Yes. You don’t have to keep staring at it.” Grandpa put in his unwanted two cents.
I stuck my tongue out at him, and finally stepped up to the door that led to the chapel.