In It For My Wife

by Gracie Sullivan

  Wariness crept up her chest but all Heather said was “OK, babe.”

  They both gathered up dry twigs, leaves and rocks, and soon John had started a small fire with some matches he’d stolen from Burke’s office. After that, he set about gathering pine boughs.

  This was insanely exciting to watch. She questioned whether she was going to wake up with pine sap in her hair, but Heather watched mystified. How in the world was he thinking of all this? He had never slept outside a night in his life!

  She joined him in the search for pine boughs, just to see what he would do with them. When they had enough, John took them, laid them on the ground in the shape of a makeshift mattress, and then stripped off his clothes.

  “Whoa,” Heather breathed. Watching her husband strip down in the firelight was getting her panties wet. Like, way wetter than before. The sight of her husband exhibiting wilderness skills was turning her on, beyond anything she could have imagined. This, this was cutting through her fog of lost libido.

  Yes, it was true. Getting lost in the woods with her husband, and him retreating back to some long lost caveman instincts, was the key to unlock her desire for him again. It was crazy, she knew. But there it was.

  In seconds, his naked, sweaty and dirty body stood before him, the flickering light casting shadows in all of his cut muscles. She watched as he laid the khaki uniform on the ground over top of the branches, and then dug through his duffle bag for more clothes.

  “No blankets, of course, but we can sleep on all the clothes we brought,” he said, setting about building their primitive little bed for the night.

  When he was finished, he was so tired he nearly collapsed on to his back and grunted. “Ugh. G’night, babe. We’ll find the car in the morning.”

  He closed his eyes and was nearly asleep. But Heather, the new Heather — or maybe it was the old Heather — had other plans.

  She slipped out of her sweat-soaked clothes, stood over John, her feet straddling his midsection, and dropped her soaked panties right onto his face.

  Chapter 18

  John

  Contentment. That's the state John was in. Nothing could top the wild adventure of breaking into Burke’s office and finding the mother lode of all things sweet.

  Basking in the high of break-and-entering and making an escape with his wife was worth every penny they had spent on this ill-thought-out weekend.

  He was starting drift off to sleep when he suddenly felt a rustling against his face, and with it the sweetest aroma on Earth… Heather’s lacy panties.

  John slowly opened his eyes to finding his curvaceous vixen standing over him, completely naked. Her eyes were wanton and her breasts were heaving with every breath. Sexy as hell. It was a complete stare-down. Heather was daring him to make a move; John glared back hungrily to meet her gaze.

  Hungry was an understatement. He was so ravenous, just the idea of a game of chicken made him ready to tear apart the metaphorical chicken and make the feathers fly.

  John was done with games.

  He gritted his teeth and growled, grabbing hold of both her wrists. He yanked her downward, her sweet pussy landing inches from his face. Her sweet vanilla scent made his dick jerk to life.

  “Are you sure about this,” he asked, while running the tip of his nose up and down her beautiful folds.

  “Yes,” she moaned, and he snatched that pussy straight onto his tongue to feast on her goodness.

  One year since he had tasted her.

  One year since he had been able to set her on fire with just his mouth.

  Heather’s warmth welcomed him in, like a beacon bringing her lost vessels home. Her riding his face had always been a favorite of his. She slowly moved her hands across her stomach and cupped her tits, rolling and pulling on them. Her moans drowned out his own grunts of approval.

  John could feel her thighs squeezing the sides of his head. “Please, John. Please,” she moaned. He could tell she was close. He searched out her clit and started to slowly tease it while pushing two fingers into her pussy.

  Heather grabbed hold of his hair, pulling and moaning while picking up speed. “Shit,” she yelled. “I’m going, baby. I'm going.”

  John didn’t let up when she gushed her sweetness all down his throat. “Please. Stop, John. Oh god, don't stop! Don't ever stop,” she cried out.

  “That's right, baby doll,” he replied. “Give me what’s mine.” He followed up with a hard smack to her ass, letting her shake out the last bit of her first of many orgasms for the night.

  She gasped in surprise at the rough play, but then a wicked smile came over her face. It had been a risky move but it was about to pay off, he could see in her smile.

  Chapter 19

  Heather

  I don’t know what’s come over me, she thought while coming down from her orgasm. John had always had impeccable oral skills, but tonight proved how much she needed her body to relax.

  She bent down to kiss her own juices off his lips. She started to suck on his tongue, giving him a taste of what she was about to do to him. “John,” she purred. “How many you got in you?”

  “Are we keeping score, baby?” John replied, half laughing, half out of breath.

  Heather lifted her head and smirked at him. He had no idea what he was in for.

  Having power over John was an incredible feeling. Although he always treated her as an equal partner in their marriage, but sometimes … she enjoyed it when they dominated each other. And at this moment, she was in complete control.

  Kneeling down, she breathed in the deep scent that radiated off the lines and ridges of his hard chest. His muscled body looked all the more tantalizing in the firelight.

  “You know what you smell like?” she teased, working kisses down his chest and toward his pleasure trail. “You smell like a hard-working man… who chops wood … starts fires … takes care of me … who belongs to me, and only me.”

  Slowly she massaged his balls with her tongue, carefully humming on each while her hand firmly gripped the base of his dick. “I own this, John,” she gritted out right before fully taking him into her mouth.

  Chapter 20

  John

  Working her tongue around the tip of his dick, Heather proceeded to suck off her husband right there in the openness of the woods.

  John could hardly believe this was the same woman who had been holding out on him for months. And now she was completely in charge. He had no idea this was how it was going to go when she was finally ready.

  “I've waited so long for this, babe,” he moaned.

  He closed his eyes and enjoyed her mouth on his cock, reaching down to lace his fingers into her silky hair that brushed his thighs as she worked him over.

  When she moaned at the touch of his fingers in her hair, he gripped slightly harder and she worked him even faster.

  Damn, if she wasn’t enjoying him tugging at her hair.

  John whispered her name.

  She whimpered in return.

  He filled both fists with her hair and pulled. She gasped and ramped up her urgency even more, pulling his member deep into her throat while squeezing and massaging his balls.

  He could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine.

  “Baby, I’m coming,” he gritted out.

  In response, Heather ran her hands up his pelvis. The sensation of her fingers through his hair lit up every pleasure nerve in his body and brought him to the brink.

  “Shit!” he yelled, releasing all that was inside him down into her beautiful mouth. The aftershocks made his legs go numb, but he didn’t waste a second before pulling her up and driving his still-hard-as-fuck cock right into her warm, inviting pussy.

  This female belongs to me, body and soul.

  Chapter 21

  Heather

  This man belongs to me, still. I thought I had lost him, but I never did. I’m never going to waste another single minute of our life together.

  Heather fell asleep with the
se realizations floating through her head, and woke up at sunrise with the same thoughts.

  Strangely this pine-bough bed was fairly comfortable. She wouldn’t want to make a permanent home here but she sure didn’t mind it for one night, anyway.

  Eyes closed, she slinked her arm over to where John had been passed out after two (or was it three?) orgasms late last night. She had a feeling she wanted to give him another ride.

  But the space next to her was empty.

  She peeked and saw that he was gone, but the impression he’d left in the blanket was still warm; he hadn’t gone far.

  Sitting up, she saw the fire was crackling. He’d been up early, starting a fire to warm her in the early morning hours.

  Still the thoughtful, sweet man that she had first met in high school, she thought with a smile.

  Heather looked around but didn’t see him. She could hear his footsteps, and soon he appeared out of nowhere. John emerged from the woods like a specter from the Paleolithic era: he was bare-ass naked, carrying a long stick that had been sharpened at one end. Impaled on the stick was a fish.

  Her eyes widened with lust. Her caveman had just hunted down food.

  As he approached, she stood up and pulled one of his long shirts around herself to ward off the morning chill. John bumped a fist on his chest. “Man bring food. Woman sit down, look pretty.”

  She laughed, and then joined him at the fire. She watched him clean the fish on a rock with his pocketknife.

  “Where did you learn how to do that?”

  He shrugged. “My dad taught me when I was a kid. I guess it’s just like riding a bike. You don’t forget how.”

  She grinned. “Or like boning after not having sex with your wife for months and months?”

  He laughed. “Exactly like that.”

  Cleaned, deboned and cooked over the fire, the fish from the creek was the most delicious thing she ever tasted. True, she was starving from yesterday and the Girl Scout cookies had only given her enough energy for wild monkey sex in the woods. Now, after multiple orgasms and a good night’s sleep, she was absolutely famished. They ate together without speaking, like two naked, lost and starving people in the woods. Which … they precisely were.

  “Show me how to fish with your spear, caveman,” she teased when they were finished with the fish.

  John agreed and, after she put on some flip flops, he guided her down to the creek with his homemade fishing spear.

  Holding his hand, walking naked through the woods — except for his oversize shirt hanging off of her — with his scent still all over her, Heather could not recall the last time she was so content. Seeing her man tame nature — building a fire, making a bed, catching food — had been ten times as sexy as she had ever found him to be in all the years they had been together. She loved watching him find his primal self.

  Sure, she had always been proud of him and his accomplishments in business. He was an excellent provider. He loved her and the girls. Together, they had created a comfortable life that allowed them to be generous and financially free from worry.

  But there was something to be said for exploring one’s Stone-Age roots. That something was a huge turn-on.

  As Heather and John made their way down to the creek, she hoped this would be more than just a fishing expedition.

  Chapter 22

  John

  He looked at his wife and she looked back at him.

  They were standing together in clear, burbling water up to their chest, the current gently massaging their bodies.

  Once they had reached the creek, it was like they were of one mind. It had been way too long since they were on the same page … about anything.

  They had quickly shed their flip flops and waded in together.

  “I haven’t been skinny dipping since college. Do you remember?”

  “Sure do. We’d finished our term papers in the middle of the night, and decided to go for a drive out to the lake,” he said.

  Heather added, “We parked and jumped the fence. What were we thinking?”

  He smiled and smoothed her hair back from her eyes. “We were in love.”

  “Were?” she asked.

  “Honeymoon phase, I guess. We used to do a lot of spontaneous outdoor stuff back then.”

  She laughed and ran her hands over John’s chest. It felt amazing. “No more jumping fences for me,” she said.

  His hands were holding her steady against the current beneath the surface of the water. Then he started running his hand upward, along her sides, his thumb skimming the sides of her breasts. “But,” he added, “maybe we could use another honeymoon.”

  Heather snaked her hands downward, cupping his balls underwater. John sucked in his breath. They had two saltwater pools at their estate; why did they never use it for sexy times? he wondered.

  She licked her lips and stared up at John. “I don’t know. This is a pretty good honeymoon so far.” She squeezed his balls, sending shock waves all through him.

  John growled. Nope. No way was she taking charge again. Before she could protest, John had her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands under her ass, keeping her steady.

  His cock nestled into her folds, which warmed him against the cool water that lapped the rest of his body. The contrast heightened the intensity of his lust for her.

  Heather’s eyes widened with the surprise move but did not protest. She held on to him and rocked her hips forward to receive his cock.

  But he didn’t plunge into her.

  “No baby,” he said. “I’m in charge this time.”

  Her eyes flashed; her lips parted.

  John claimed her mouth with his. His wife’s lips were soft and yielding. He loved kissing her.

  “Remember how we just kissed all night long in the water, like teenagers?” he asked.

  Heather spoke and ran her fingers over his sculpted shoulders. “We were practically teenagers; I think we were 20.”

  “Oh yeah,” he chuckled.

  “And we did more than just kiss, as I recall,” she said.

  John smoothed one hand up her ribcage and grabbed a handful of her breast. “Something like that?”

  She sighed. He loved the way she sighed whenever he took her tits in his hands.

  “Yeah,” she said, her cheeks flushing.

  He gave her a wicked smile. “You know what else I wanted to do but I was too chicken shit?”

  “What?” She looked at him needily, biting her bottom lip.

  John answered by letting go of her breasts and returning both hands to her ass. Gently, he spread her cheeks.

  She looked at him warily, but with a hint of a grin. She rocked against him again, egging him on.

  John went for it and slipped a finger between her cheeks.

  Heather gasped.

  “Baby, I love that ass of yours.”

  She closed her eyes. “And I love that you love it.”

  John massaged one cheek with his hand and gently entered her anus with the finger of his other hand.

  “This good?”

  She moaned, “Anything you want is good.”

  “I want to get you pregnant again,” he blurted.

  Her eyes popped open.

  He held his breath. His hands went still until she answered.

  “Say something,” he said.

  Then her body softened against him again. “Then what are you waiting for?”

  John’s entire body rejoiced. “Get ready, baby,” he growled. He lifted her up enough to allow her to sit on his cock as they stood in the water, their faces joined at the mouth. He loved holding her close like this while his cock was buried inside its favorite place.

  She rode him like that, with his hands on her ass, one finger, and then two, massaging her anus. The sensations in the water made everything feel ten times more incredible. John made a mental note to bang his wife in the pool from now on, at least once a week.

  And … possibly buy some toys for ass play, because damn, she s
eemed to be enjoying that part, too.

  “Remember when we got caught?” he said.

  She clenched down so hard John sucked in a breath.

  He deepened what he was doing with his fingers. Heather cried out. “Oh my god, John. I feel so full when you do that.”

  “I asked you if you remember getting caught at the lake,” he growled, biting down on her collarbone.

  She gasped. “It feels like you're in every part of me. I can feel you everywhere.” She began to ride him vigorously.

  But John wasn’t having it. He removed his hands, his cock and hoisted her upward so her nipples were even with his face.

  “I need an answer,” he said hoarsely.

  She moaned again. “Why’d you stop?”

  “Because I want to complete that memory for you. We never got to finish what we started that night and I want to make a new memory for you.”

  Gasping for breath and at a loss for words, Heather stared into his eyes.

  John told her with his face that he was dead serious.

  Her cheeks burned as she spoke.

  “I remember a flashlight on us in the dark. I remember a voice echoing off the water. It was a cop standing on the shore with a megaphone,” she said.

  “What did he say?” John pressed.

  “He said, ‘you kids can come out of the water now. Play time’s over.’ And then you made me laugh because you said he sounded like a Scooby-Doo villain.”

  “Good memory,” John said, once again penetrating her with his hands, his cock. “And then we got dressed and drove back to campus with a warning for trespassing. You almost made me drive off the road when you said his Wilford Brimley mustache made you confused as to whether we were being arrested or questioned about dia-beet-us.”

  Heather laughed and held his face and kissed him. “No more talking.”

  He kissed her back adjusted her on his hips so he could sink back into her as deeply as possible.