Page 35 of Rebound

“Wrap it up. I got it. Let’s have dinner after you guys get back. I have big news.”

“Yeah, big news my ass. You better not do anything fucked up, Seth. I mean it.”

“I promise you’ll like my news.”

“Okay. We have presents for Jasmine,” he says. “Don’t do anything stupid until we get back.” I smile at that. Making him and Jeannie Jasmine’s godparents was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

We end the call, and I return to Jasmine’s room, but it’s empty. I find them on the back patio blowing bubbles. Laylablows and Jasmine runs around popping them. I lean back and watch, certain that I’ve made the right decision.

My father is a horrible parent, but he’s right about one thing. Jasmine needs a mother, and since the one who gave birth to her is dead, Layla is the perfect one to fill that role.

“Dada,” Jasmine says, pointing at me.

I join them, take the bubbles from Layla, and blow.

Half an hour later, Jasmine is fast asleep in her bed. She did not nap at Vickie’s today, so I know she’ll sleep until about nine o’clock tomorrow morning. I leave her door cracked and go into the master bedroom directly across the hall.

Layla’s standing in the middle of the room staring at the king-sized four-poster bed. I close the door behind me to get her attention.

“So, no woman has ever been on that bed?” she asks, pointing at it.

“Only Jasmine,” I say with a grin.

I put my hand on her shoulders and turn her around to face me. I grasp her chin and kiss my wife. She melts in my arms and kisses me back. She has a loose shirt on that zips from the back. I start to unzip it, and she steps back.

“I need to go change,” she says with a hint of shyness. I move away, and she grabs her tote bag and goes into the bathroom.

Unsure of what to do, I decide to remove my shorts and shirt, leaving me in nothing but my boxers. A thought occurs to me, and while she’s gone, I run to the kitchen and grab the champagne from the fridge along with two champagne flutes.This is probably some of the simp shit that Coach does for Jeannie.

She’s still not back by the time I return, so I pop the champagne and fill our glasses. After dimming the lights, I sit on the bed and wait for her.

I don’t remember a time when I was ever nervous about a sexual encounter. From the time I first had sex at sixteen until now, it’s always been a marathon for me to get to the finish line. I’m ashamed to admit that I never gave my partner’s pleasure a second thought. I have to throw out the old playbook and do everything differently.

I position myself on top of the bed, but that doesn’t feel right. I feel like an ass, so I hop off. The door to the bathroom opens, and my jaw almost drops to the floor. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I’m not ready for this. My dick is though, because it sticks straight out at the sight of her. She looks down at it, and instead of calling me a horny pervert, she bites her bottom lip.

She’s in a black gown that barely reaches the middle of her thighs. The top is like a corset, and it makes her waist look smaller than it is. The bottom of the gown is sheer, and as beautiful as it is, I ache to take it off.

My eyes travel up her long, shapely legs to her tapered waist and full breasts. It’s her face that almost makes me weep. She has red lipstick on, and her eyes look dark and smoky. Her hair is bigger than it was before. I take a step closer to her, and she does the same. We stop just a breath away from each other. If she takes a deep breath, our bodies will touch.

I take her chin and tilt her face up to look at me. Her red lips are full and pouty. As much as I want to kiss her, I need to give myself a moment, or the part about pleasuring her first will fly out the window. I take a few steps to get the champagne flutes on the nightstand. We clink and drink. I’ve never been much ofa drinker. Watching my dad sit on the couch drinking beer all day long did a great job of putting me off alcohol, but today is a special occasion. A guy only has his wedding night once.

“This is awkward,” she says right before she tilts her head back and downs the entire glass. My dick likes that, and it wonders what else her throat can do. I don’t tell her that though.

I take another sip and put my glass down before I take hers and say, “It doesn’t have to be. We’re married.” I wrap my arm around her and put my hand on her lower back. I pull her to me and bend down to kiss the side of her neck. She moans.

I pick her up bridal style. In all the movies I’ve ever watched, women always seem to like this. She’s light in my arms.

I put her on top of the bed and lay next to her. My hand glides up her smooth thigh to her pussy. She has her legs clamped shut, and I gently pry them apart. I lift the dress, revealing her pussy. Most of the women I’ve been with have been hairless, but I find that I like the smattering of hair she has. I run my hand over it, and she trembles.

“Can I take this off?” I pull on the hem of her gown. “It’s nice, but I want to see all of you.” She nods and sits up. She lifts the gown over her head, and it falls to the floor.

Her breasts are only inches away. They’re as perfect as I’ve always imagined. I cup one with my hand while I take the other nipple in my mouth. She inhales sharply. My hand leaves her breast and travels down her body until I get to the apex of her thighs.

I pry her legs open again and run my fingers through her pussy and over her clit.

“Oh,” she says. She jolts and moves a few inches away from me.

“Relax,” I tell her.

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