Page 64 of Clear Shot
Because now it’s real.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper as she moves against me.
“I love your eyes,” she whispers back. “They’re like golden sunshine with tiny specks of green. They take my breath away—especially when you look at me the way you are right now.”
“Like you’re the most beautiful woman in the world and I’m about to make you come again?”
“Yes.” She drops her head to nibble my lips. “Like that.”
“I don’t know why you bothered to put on clothes,” I tease.
“I thought we were tired.”
“Another thing you need to know about me—very rarely will I be too tired for sex. In fact, I’m good for two, three, four times a day.”
She playfully bites her lip. “Is that all? Goodness, we may have to build up your stamina.”
I chuckle, squeezing her ass. “I’m going to pound that pussy into submission—then talk to me about stamina.”
She just shrugs. “Then I guess we might need to invest in some lube, to make sure I don’t get too sore.”
“Absolutely.” I make a mental note to pick some up while I’m on the road.
“Now… where were we?”
“You were about to take your clothes off.”
“Was I?” She cocks her head with a confused look on her face. “I don’t recall saying that.”
I rumble out a laugh. “Do I need to help you?”
Her eyes widen. “Maybe.”
I reach out and slowly begin lifting her top, pulling it gently over her head.
“Pretty,” I whisper gruffly.
She lifts to her knees, and I tug at her shorts and panties, pulling them together, first one side and then the other.
“Your turn,” she whispers.
“I might need your help this time.”
She runs a hand over the erection straining through my boxers. Then she drops down and nuzzles it. “Yum.”
We spendanother day trying to help out in the community.
I buss tables at Cicero’s, trying to keep up with the steady stream of people who are in and out all day. People who’ve lost everything. People who don’t know where they’re going to sleep tonight. People who are going to literally start from scratch.
People who make me realize how lucky I am.
Both personally and professionally.
I come from a fucked-up background, but I’ve done well for myself and it feels good to give back.
It also feels good to look across the room at my beautiful wife, who’s serving people like she’s been waiting tables her whole life. She’s had a smile on her face all day, dealing with screaming babies, tired, dirty adults, and people who are too devastated to bother being polite.
I get it.
