Page 117 of Danger Close
Convincing her to see a therapist was one of our biggest fights. Telling her that I went to one semi-regularly helped. Seeing one together was our first step.
I bought her a little cottage farmhouse outside of Mourningkill. It looked like the kind of place you’d see in Normandy.
Like any woman who spent too much time on Pinterest, we ended up with chickens and goats. Apparently, we’re now considering alpacas. I dont… even know what to say about that. I just go with it. As long as she kept using “we”, I’d do anything she wanted.
“Princess? How are you feeling?” My wife liked lazy mornings.
We worked hard on helping her learn to sleep. Now, she would have lazy, late mornings, staying cozy under her heated blanket.
She groaned, stretching her arms overhead, her naked body teasing me from beneath the duvet.
Much to our daughter’s embarrassment, Teri and I both slept naked, cuddled on each other, even if we weren’t going to get, as Miss Jackson said, “nasty”. Kiddo had to learn to knock.
“I feel good,” she said with a happy, almost dopey, smile on her lips. “I need to tend to the chickens.”
Retirement is all about finding a routine. When you don’t have the structure of work, you’ve got to build your schedule. The chickens and goats were a part of ours.
“Already handled.” I kissed her bare shoulder, as I undid the buttons on my flannel shirt.
The other part of our routine was morning sex.
“Mmm,” she groaned, sweetly as she stared at me from beneath hooded, lustful eyes. “Are you here to pleasure me, Mr. Guerro?”
Anyone who said women in their forties and fifties weren’t sexy was an idiot. Teresa Louise Guerro, when she was happy and comfortable, was absolutely, madly insatiable. It was also an important part ofourtherapy. Retaining a trustful, physical intimacy.
“Not today.” I kissed down her throat, to her chest, my callused palm sliding down the curve of her ribs, to her waist. “Today, I’m going to be a selfish husband.”
I’d been gentle with her, so far. I worked very hard to earn her trust.
I took the small steps necessary to get her here… and now, I was going to reap the rewards.
I bit down on her nipple, hard, and she gasped, her thighs clenching.
“So responsive,” I chuckled. “But so disobedient.”
I cupped her bare sex, my fingers teasing her soaking entrance. I’d been training her for a year in small, inconspicuous ways. We fucked at the same time every morning. It was Pavlovian. The sun peeked over the Catskill mountains, and my wife was ready… her body anticipating the task ahead.
“Where should your eyes be, Princess?” Her eyes snapped open, her blue gaze coming to me. I smiled. Because my woman was so eager to please.
I’d taken it easy on her for the past year, but I’d promised her something once and never forgotten it. I promised that I’d fuck her until she forgot her own name. I’d waited for her to heal her body, then her mind. Then I repaired our relationship.
It was time I rewarded us with what we really wanted.
“Hands over your head, legs wide.” She obeyed, a coy smile on her lips.
I kissed my way down her abdomen, my cock rigid. She’d alluded to wanting this. She’d let it slip in small ways—her longing and desire. And I was nothing if not a pleasing husband.
“Keep your legs wide open for me, Wife.” She shivered, her eyes shuttering closed. “Eyes!”
She snapped her eyes open, her lips parted as her breathing became erratic. Fuck, she was so damn easy.
My Wife. My Love. She was everything.
“It’s time you start learning how to be a good little Princess.” The sound of her voice went straight to my cock. I had to unleash him before he busted through my zipper. I gripped him tight, trying to squeeze him into patient compliance.Down, boy.
I dove in, taking her clit in my mouth as I violently, and mercilessly sucked the swollen nerves into my mouth. She screamed. Her thighs slammed shut, her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
“Joe!” she keened, on the brink of pleasure.
