“You like that?” he asks and I feel his teeth and lips move with his words.
“Yes,” I hiss.
He gives it a good bite and I yelp but only because it makes me jerk inside.
He leans over me and takes my tits in his hands as he pumps into me. His words are warm on my ear. “Your tits are fucking delicious, Baby.” He licks the side of my neck.
My body is on fire. He’s making me hotter than I’ve felt in a long time. His cock is filling me up and he bites my neck then whispers, “I’m going to fuck you all night long.”
And I lose it. My body goes crazy with the orgasm. It’s hard, and it’s lasting a long time. I try to be quiet but want to scream with the sweet release.
Channing moves back up and grabs me by my hips and slams hard into me. “Yes, Baby! Give it to me! Give it all to me! Scream for me, Baby!”
The orgasm is going on and getting more intense. I’ve had to be so quiet. Afraid of waking the babies.
No sound comes from me as I hold it all in. Then his hand slaps my ass. “Scream my name, damn it!”
“Channing,” I say kind of softly.
Another slap, harder this time. “Damn it, Beth! Scream it!”
“Channing!” I say a little louder and find another slap on my ass. “Channing!”
“Again,” he shouts as he pounds into me.
“Channing!” I shout as my body shakes with the intensity. I put my face in the pillow and shriek with the desire. The complete desire I have for him and how he’s making my body feel sexy and wanted, even needed again.
He jerks his cock out of me and flips me over and slams back into me. His face is sweaty as he looks at me. “I want to hear you say that you’re beautiful, Beth.”
“Channing,” I whisper and turn my head.
He grabs my face and makes me look at him. “Fucking say it, Beth.”
His eyes are dark as he moves into me hard. “I’m beautiful.”
He kisses me hard and wraps his tongue around mine. Then stops the kiss and looks at me again. “I want to hear you say you’re sexy.”
I smile. “You are sexy.”
He smacks the side of my ass. “Want another, Sassy. And the safe-word is cunt.”
He knows I hate saying that word. I wince and say, “I’m sexy.”
“Louder,” he shouts.
“I’m sexy!” I buck under him and wrap my arms around him. “Make me come again, you sexy man!”
“I plan on it.” He takes one tit in his mouth as he continues to pummel my body like it hasn’t had in nearly three years.
It aches but in the best way. And if I can walk tomorrow I’ll be surprised. But tonight I’m going to give into this man. This wonderful husband I have.
His dick goes really stiff then he says with his deep voice, “Come!”
Just like old times, my body does what he’s told it to. This time, I shriek with the sweet release and I can feel the orgasm throughout my entire body as we throb all over one another.
And then the reality of everything hits me and I start crying. Sobs flow from me as Channing looks down at me. “What did I do?”
I shake my head. “You didn’t do anything. It’s me. I’ve been so off since the triplets fucked me up.”
“Baby, you’re not fucked up,” he says as he rolls off me and pulls me up in his arms as he leans against the headboard.
I can’t stop crying as he holds me and I feel so safe and so wanted and so loved. And it makes no sense why I’m crying and feeling so bad about myself but I am.
Channing picks up his cell phone off the table next to the bed and I look at him. “What the hell are you doing? Making a phone call while I have a fucking breakdown?”
“No! Damn Beth, chill out a minute!” He opens the internet app and taps in something and the next thing I know a bunch of pictures pop up of women in their bras and underwear.
“Women in their underwear, Channing. Think that will help me? Ass,” I say as I struggle to get out of his hold.
“Wait, Grouchy!” He holds the phone up and reads out loud. “These are pictures of women who have had one or more children and how their bodies look after the first year. He flips the page and the same women are in the pictures again in their underwear. “These are the same women two years later.” He continues to flip and every time another year has gone by and the women do look different.
Their stretch marks fade, their muscles tighten back up. Some even regain flat stomachs. But what really gets to me is that all of them keep looking better and better in each picture.
I run my hand up and push the phone away. Then look into his eyes. “Thank you, Channing.”
“Not a problem. You’re a part of me, Baby. When you feel bad about something so do I. Now do you think you can stop being so insecure about this very temporary thing that’s going on with your very beautiful body?” He looks at me with so much love in his eyes I kind of melt inside.
Kind of like the way I did the first time I saw him. The first time he touched me. The first time he kissed me.
“With you by my side, I can do anything, Channing Michaels.”
And I do believe that with my whole heart and soul.
With one sweet kiss, he makes my troubles go away and life seems a lot sweeter and I think even if a rainbow doesn’t show up on his birthday we’ll be fine, anyway.
The End
Dirty Decisions A Submissives’ Secrets Extra
Michelle Love
Grant
A dreary morning found me driving aimlessly. It had been two years since my father had murdered my mother and I was tired of waiting around to see if dear old dad would ever open his mouth about what he’d done.
He’d taken a guilty plea, received a punishment of life in prison, but he wouldn’t tell his story. We knew mom’s left wrist was cut. The cut was so deep. It went all the way to the bone. The coroner estimated it took her twenty or so minutes to bleed out. During that time, my father could’ve stopped her from dying. A tourniquet could’ve been fashioned out of a piece of cloth and wrapped around the wound to put pressure on it and slow the bleeding until they could get to help.
My father didn’t do a damn thing. And no one knows why.
He’s never said how the wound was inflicted, other than that he’d cut her wrist. There was a knife that was found with her blood on it. It was her left wrist. She was right handed, so she could’ve done it. But he wouldn’t give anyone any information, so I supposed we’d never know anything more about it. But there was a suspicion that lurked in the back of my mind that my father had taken the blame for something he didn’t do. But why was still a mystery.
With everything weighing heavily on my mind, I headed toward Wilsonville, Oregon to the Coffee Creek Correction Facility. My father had been placed there, and it was the weekend for visitors. What better way to spend a drizzly day than trying to talk to my father in a prison yard?
Jack
Time stood still. Since the moment she had left this world, time had stopped for me. I was alone without her. There were other people, our four children, but I couldn’t shake the numbness that was inside me and all around me. A part of me had died with her.
My mind was so blank that I didn’t have the wherewithal to pray for death to find me. My body moved mechanically. I’d feed myself, drink water, shower, and brush my teeth. I was no invalid. No burden to anyone. But I wasn’t all there.
I’d had to talk when I was taken into custody, but I could only get select words to come out of my mouth. “I’m guilty.” Those were the two words that had me locked up.
It wasn’t true, but I didn’t want to be free. I didn’t want to go back home to our house—the house where we’d raised four kids. Not that Jake or Becca were done being raised. Becca was only fifteen when she was left by us. Jake was eighteen. He’d graduated from high school. He’d be okay. I knew Grant would make sure everyone was okay. And Jenny, the second oldest, would help him. I had faith in our children.
<
br /> Daphne and I had us some gorgeous kids. She was the best mother in the world. I tried to be the father she expected me to be. For the most part, I was. I hadn’t stumbled until she died. Who am I kidding—stumble??
I fell flat on my face.
And stayed there. Living inside the prison walls in silence. Most of the time, I’d lay in my bunk and get lost in old memories. Like the fight we’d had when five years had passed and we still hadn’t had even one pregnancy.
Daphne was feeling badly about herself. I don’t know why that made me mad, but it did. My wife was perfect. Why did she have to be so damn hard on herself about everything?
That morning was as clear in my head as if it was actually happening. I was getting ready to go to work. I’d gotten a job as a police officer in Portland, Oregon. Dressed in my uniform, I came down the stairs of the large home we’d bought. Five bedrooms, and we planned to one day fill them all. Even if we had to adopt.
Daphne wasn’t doing her usual thing of humming away as she made breakfast. Instead, she was sitting at the kitchen table, steaming cup of coffee in her hands and looking blankly at the wall.
“Mornin’ baby doll.” I pecked the top of her head and went to make my own cup of coffee, and then started to get some of the scrambled eggs I saw on the stove.
“I’ll get that,” she mumbled, but didn’t move.
It didn’t take a psychologist to know there was something on her mind and it must’ve weighed a ton. “Don’t you dare get up. I can get my own coffee and spoon some eggs onto a plate.”
“There’s toast in the oven, Jack. Get yourself some toast too.” She didn’t look at me. She just kept staring a hole in the wall. “I hate yellow. Did you know that, Jack? I hate yellow and this kitchen is nothing but yellow. I hate the color of the stove, the fridge, the counter tops, and I hate the color of these walls.”
Grabbing some toast and putting it on the plate I’d already filled with eggs, I went to the table and set it down. “That’s interesting, Daphne. We’ve lived here three years, and that was the color of the kitchen then. Funny you didn’t mention that a while back.”
“I was being nice.” Her eyes moved from the wall to me. “I hate yellow, Jack. What can you do about that?”
Getting my coffee off the yellow countertop that I thought still looked to be in great shape, I had no idea what I could do about what she hated. “Well, let’s see. I have that Sears card that we’ve never used. Maybe we could buy us a new fridge and stove. How about that nice avocado green that’s all the rage now? We’ll be on the cutting edge of kitchen fashion.” I kissed the top of her head again before I sat down.
She looked at me with wide eyes. “Jack, that will never be enough. And I don’t think I like green. I was thinking white. I want everything white. Clean, pure, white. Even the living room. I want white furniture and carpeting. All of it a pristine white. I like that idea.”
“Honey, white is a great color, or lack of color, I should say. But what about how easily it gets dirty? Won’t that make your job of keeping the house a lot harder?” I sipped my coffee and watched her face morph from no expression to a sour one.
“What do you care how hard my job of keeping house is?” she snapped at me.
“Watch how you speak to me,” I cautioned her.
“I’ll talk to you any fucking way I want to, Jack Jamison. Who the fuck are you to tell me how to speak?”
“Your husband. A man you will respect the same way I respect you. Now stop the yelling and cursing. I won’t put up with that and you know it.”
Her eyes went to the table as the cup shook in her hands. “I’ll shut up.”
Daphne was no bitch. Her lousy mood had to have come from something. I wasn’t sure if it was her time of the month or what, but she wasn’t herself. My wife was a pleasure to be around. She was fun, spontaneous, and above all, she was nice. She worried about people’s feelings all the time. So her little outburst might’ve seemed like something a woman might say, but not mine.
The anger I felt subsided quickly, and I knew I had to be patient and loving with her. “Baby, I care about how hard things are for you. I always have.” I got up and went to her. Taking her coffee cup out of her hands, I placed it on the table and picked her up in my arms. Resting my forehead against hers, I sighed. “I love you.”
Her arms moved around my neck and she sighed too. “I love you too, Jack. I’m just in a foul mood.”
Without agreeing with her, because any man who agrees with his wife about any bad mood is a moron, I took her up the stairs to our bedroom and placed her on our bed.
She smiled up at me as I did a little strip tease for her, ridding myself of the bulky police uniform, but keeping the handcuffs. “You have the right to remain silent.”
Pink filled her cheeks as she moved up the bed. She only had on a housecoat, and I unzipped it and pulled it off her. She was looking at me with wide eyes as I took her hands and cuffed them, then pulled her arms up and hooked the cuffs on the bedpost. “Jack!”
“Silent, remember?” I asked her, then moved my hands all over her beautiful naked body. She trembled with my touch.
Five years we’d been together, and still my wife trembled each time I touched her intimately. And she still stirred things so deep inside of me, it hurt sometimes. We were one, the two of us. We knew it, too. And appreciated each other, most of the time. We were humans. Things could get to us. But like any great couple, when one of us was feeling down, the other would do their best to perk them up.
So I was perking my wife up. Making her forget about the idea of making our home into a museum of sterile white walls and furnishings. Making her think only about me and how good I could make her feel.
I’d never used the cuffs on her before, but some of the guys down at the station talked openly about how their women liked it when they used them. They said it added spice and Daphne seemed like she needed some kind of a change. Why not a sexy one instead of one that would cost me lots of money and time?
Her skin was creamy and smooth and her hips had gained curves as she’d grown up. The way her heavy breasts heaved with each breath she took was mesmerizing. I took one of the delicious mounds into my mouth and the other in my hand, massaging it and making her moan.
Licking her nipple until it was erect, I sucked on it gently and moved my body over hers, grinding my dick against her without inserting it. Her pussy was warm, but as inviting as it was, I wanted to make my woman scream with desire.
Giving her nipple a quick nip, making her squeal, I moved down, kissing my way to a place I loved to make out with. Her pussy lips were every bit as sweet as the ones on her face.
I met her cunt with one long lick, then pointed my tongue and searched her folds for a moment before I kissed them. Her legs encircled me as she arched up. “Baby …”
The way her heels pressed into my back made my cock ache to be inside of her. But I wasn’t going to give in to what it wanted until the love of my life was fully satisfied.
I’d be late for my shift, but I’d come home to a happy wife. If my boss didn’t understand that, then fuck him.
I kissed, licked, and bit her cunt until she was shaking, then I sucked her engorged clit until she came and wailed like a banshee. Thrusting my tongue into her, I tasted her sweet essence. Then I moved up her body and kissed her.
She was ravenous for me. Our tongues entwined as I pushed my fat cock into her throbbing canal. We both moaned with how wonderful it felt to be connected. She was like my socket, and I was her lightbulb. We lit each other up.
With her arms bound, it was different. She’d usually run her hands all over me. I realized that that took away from the sensation of my dick in her pussy. With her hands not on me, I felt more with my cock. It was odd, but a great odd.
I moved in different rhythms, adjusting my speed and my thrusts just to feel the difference inside of her. She was wet and hot like she always was when we made love, but I could feel that more intensely.
My cock was shaking. I swear it was. I could feel so much and it seemed like she was feeling it too. Without her hands moving around, taking some of our attention away from our connection, the one that counted, we were both feeling more than we ever had before.
Pounding my dick into her, I went crazy with lust. I moved my body up so I could see my cock going into her pussy and it sent waves of desire through me. My arms began to shake as something inside of me began to crest. “Fuck, baby. I’m about to blow!”
“Yes!” she screamed. “Jack, yes!”
Before I ejaculated, an orgasm moved through her. I felt it from the start to the finish. Her stomach went tight, her vagina squeezed my dick, and I sent a burst of cum into her. Her orgasm milked me, and we both made hellacious sounds as our bodies seemed to be on their own agenda.
Spent, I fell on top of her, and we tried to catch our breath. I couldn’t help but chuckle as she said, “Jack, you have to use your cuffs on me more often.”
Grant
White tents had been erected to keep the rain off the inmates and their visitors in the outdoor area where the outside met with the inside. My father hadn’t come to me yet, even though I’d been signed in for thirty minutes. Time was running out, and I was sure he knew that.
He didn’t want to face me. The last time we’d laid eyes on each other was when I drove him and mom to the airport to go to Africa. They’d seemed happy that day. There wasn’t one reason in the world for me to suspect that he was going to kill her in a matter of a few days.
Mom had kissed me goodbye and given me a hug. Dad had shaken my hand and told me to take care of my younger brother and sisters while they were away. I assured them I would and told them to have a nice time.
A couple of years had passed. I knew Dad would be having a hard time seeing me. But he had to get over that sometime, and this might as well be the time. I was tired of waiting to find out why he’d killed my mother.
Doctor's Demands: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel Page 125