Wife Me Bad Boy

by Carter, Chance

  I laughed. He had that mischievous look on his face again.

  “Grant, if you stick that limb inside me it’s going to kill me.”

  “I know it’s terrifying, sweetheart, but trust me, you can take it.”

  My heart skipped a beat when he called me sweetheart. I felt as if I’d been waiting my whole life to hear him call me that. It sounded so right.

  “Take your time,” I whispered.

  He nodded. “I’m not going to hurt you, Lacey.”

  “Talk dirty to me again,” I said, surprised that I had the boldness to say such a thing.

  “You liked that, didn’t you?”

  I nodded.

  “All right, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do to you.”

  “Tell me,” I whispered.

  His hands were up under my dress, holding my thighs gently but firmly. I could feel his fingers creeping upward toward my bare vagina.

  “I’m going to violate you, Lacey. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, and tonight, under this blue moon, I’m finally going to allow myself to do it.”

  I looked down at the monstrous cock between his legs. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to have that thing inside my body.

  “Did you hear what I said?” he said.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “I said I’m going to violate you.”

  “Yes,” I whispered again.

  “I don’t think you even know what that means.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “Well, first off, I don’t have a condom.”

  “What?” I gasped.

  “You heard me, Lacey. No condom. We’re going skin to skin, my naked cock inside your bare pussy.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what I said. I’m going to violate you.”

  “Grant, what if something happens?”

  I gasped as his fingers found the lips of my pussy and he gently brushed his fingers over them.

  “We’re going to risk it, Lacey. We’re going to let God decide. If something happens, it happens.”

  “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Grant.”

  It was true. Grant was always cool, always calm and collected. He didn’t do a thing without working out all the possibilities and permutations. He didn’t leap without looking. He didn’t take risks.

  “This is a chance we’re going to take, Lacey. You and I together. If something happens, if there’s a consequence to our action, we’ll handle it together.”

  My heart was pounding. What was he saying? Did he want to have a baby with me? Was that it? Because this was supposed to be our little secret. This was supposed to be one night and one night only.

  “I’m not saying I know what’s going to happen, Lacey. I’m not saying I want anything to happen. I’m just saying, we’ve waited our whole lives for a chance. For this one chance. And I’m not going to play it safe. If we’re taking a risk together, if we’re trusting each other in one mindless, crazy night of passion, then I want it to be all or nothing.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Do you understand?” he said.

  I paused before answering. “Yes,” I said at last.

  “Good girl,” he said, grinning, and began playing with the delicate folds of my clit, his thumb gently touching me, making me so wet that his enormous cock might just be able to slide inside me.

  “Have you ever done this before?” I said.

  “Fucked?” he said.

  “No, not fucked. Fucked without a condom, taking the risk of letting something happen?”

  He shook his head. “This is a first in more ways than one, Lacey.”

  “Oh, God,” I gasped, as his finger slid inside my wet pussy.

  It was the first time in my life that any part of Grant had entered my body, and all I wanted was more. I wanted everything he had to give. I wanted him to be so deeply inside me that I’d never be able to remove the traces he left of himself.

  “Secondly,” he continued, “when I come inside you, when the semen flows from my body into your body, when that most intimate thing happens, you’re going to be wearing your mother’s wedding dress.”

  I caught his eye. What was he doing? What did all this mean? Was he trying to tell me something, or was he trying to find the most intimate, meaningful, one-night-stand in the history of one-night-stands?

  “Okay,” I said.

  “You don’t have a problem with that?” he said, his long, index finger sliding in and out of my wet pussy in the most intoxicating way imaginable. My hips were thrusting up and down with the motion of his hand. I was ready for him to enter me. I was ready for him to fuck my brains out. I was dying for him.

  “No problems here,” I said, or rather, tried to say. It came out more as a moan than a proper sentence.

  “Good,” he said, looking down at me, his thumb rapidly rubbing over my clit as his index finger fucked me repeatedly, “because there’s one final part to the fantasy.”

  “The fantasy?”

  “That’s right, Lacey. Are you ready to hear it?”

  I was on the verge of coming. I would have said anything to make him stop talking and start fucking me. I wanted him so badly I was ready to scream.

  “I’m ready,” I panted.

  “It’s a little strange.”

  “I don’t care,” I panted.

  “We’ve got one night to make up for seventeen years,” he said.

  “Just tell me what it is, Grant.”

  “The moment you orgasm, I want you to cry out husband, okay?”

  “And you’ll cry out wife?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Why, Grant?”

  “Call it a fantasy,” he said. “It’s just something I want to do with you. Just this once.”

  I shook my head. “You’re weird, Grant Lucas. I always knew you were weird.”

  He smiled. “I’m weird, Lacey. But will you do it for me?”

  His finger was making a beckoning motion inside my pussy, bringing me so close to the verge of orgasm that I was almost in tears.

  “If I say yes, will you stop talking and start fucking me?”

  He nodded. “Is that a yes?”

  “It’s a yes, Grant.”

  Chapter 8

  Grant

  SHE WAS SQUIRMING IN PLEASURE. I couldn’t believe I was actually touching her vagina. It was such a thrill my throbbing cock almost squirted all over her before it even touched her, but I restrained myself.

  From somewhere, I don’t even know where, I started concocting a fantasy. I made her make promises that I didn’t even know I wanted her to make.

  I told her we’d fuck without a condom. I never fucked without a condom. I never took needless risks.

  I told her she’d be wearing her mother’s wedding dress. What did that have to do with anything?

  And worst of all, I told her to call me husband, and I’d call her wife. Where the hell did that come from? I didn’t even want to get married. Not ever.

  All I can say, is that I was losing it. I was so excited to know I was going to fuck her, that I was losing hold of my senses.

  She was so ready for me she was practically orgasming already. She was writhing in pleasure, my finger playing with her pussy like it was a toy.

  “Are you going to fuck me?” she moaned.

  I smiled at her, then climbed down beneath the skirt of her silk dress. She gasped. I felt the muscles in her thighs clench in apprehension. She was right to be scared. I was going to devour her and there was no longer anything she could do about it.

  Once my head was inside her skirt, I inhaled deeply. I wanted to breathe in the scent of her. That sounds like a strange thing to do, but everything about that night was strange, and I’d waited so long for that moment that I wanted to savor every tiny detail.

  Her pussy was already dripping wet when my tongue reached the soft folds of her clitoris. She gasped and moaned as I slid my tongue over it, moving it b
ack and forth. I knew she was desperate to get my cock inside her, but there was one more thing I wanted from her.

  I wanted to hear her beg.

  I flicked my tongue back and forth over her clit while her body writhed and twisted and squirmed in pleasure. I kept going until I felt the first contractions of pre-orgasm and then I stopped suddenly, denying her the orgasm she was so desperate for.

  “Don’t stop,” she cried. “I’m about to come.”

  My mouth was just an inch from her dripping pussy, but I didn’t touch her. I inhaled the sweet fragrance of her sex and I waited.

  “Grant,” she cried. “What are you doing?”

  “You want more?” I said.

  “I’m dying, Grant. I want you.”

  I climbed out from under her dress and faced her.

  “If you want it, then you’re going to have to beg, Lacey.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” I said.

  She looked to the side, assessing her options, then looked back at me.

  “I mean it, Lacey. I want to hear you beg.”

  She was shy. It was the most adorable, enticing sight I’d ever seen in my life.

  “Fuck me,” she said, softly.

  “You call that begging?” I laughed.

  “Grant.”

  “I mean it, Lacey. I’ve watched you go out on a million dates, with a million other guys. If you want my cock inside you, you’re going to have to show me that you want me more than you wanted any of them.”

  She rolled her eyes. She didn’t like this denial, but I wasn’t backing down. I wanted her to do this. I wanted her to beg.

  She looked down at my cock. I rose up to give her a closer look at it. My shirt and tuxedo jacket were pulled up around my chest and my pants were around my knees, giving her a clear view of everything. I knew it was a sight she couldn’t resist. I’m built like an oak tree. I’ve got more muscle on my torso than a bull. Combined with the tattoos, it was just too much for her.

  “How do I know you’re worth begging for?” she smirked.

  “Excuse me?” I replied.

  She was grinning at me now. Turning the tables on me. “You heard me. How do I know that cock is worth begging for?”

  I was impressed, but I couldn’t let her win this little game. I crawled up over her so that my cock was just an inch above her face. I pointed the tip of it at her mouth like a torpedo.

  “Have a taste,” I said.

  She looked up at me, her beautiful blue eyes wet with emotion. When she opened her mouth, I felt an overwhelming desire wash over me. I shut my eyes and gasped in pleasure as her lips wrapped around my cock and she took it right into the very back of her throat. Her mouth was so soft and wet and warm I could hardly stand it. I pulsed in desire. Lust raged through me like an inferno. I felt a throb of pre-orgasmic pleasure and pulled myself out of her mouth. I couldn’t allow myself to come. Not yet. Not before she begged me.

  She smiled up at me and then turned over and got on her knees. I took my weight from her so that she could get up. She reached around to the back of her dress and pulled it up, revealing the most enticing butt I ever imagined.

  She swayed it slowly from side to side, causing my cock to pulse, on the very verge of orgasm.

  “You want me to beg?” she said.

  “Yes,” I panted.

  “All right, I’ll beg. Fuck me, Grant. Give it to me hard. Give me everything I deserve, because I’m a very naughty girl. I don’t just want you to fuck me. I want you to dominate me. I want you to fill me with your semen. I want it to rush up into my cunt so far that I can never get it back out. I want you to own me, Grant. I want you to possess me completely.”

  That did it. I grabbed her thighs tightly in my powerful hands and pulled her ass onto my cock like it was a sheath. I pulled her all the way down onto me so that my cock was so far inside her I was certain I felt her cervix. She cried out, but I was beyond rational control. I thrust into her and then pushed her entire body forward like a doll. As soon as the tip of my cock was outside her, I pulled her back onto it and she cried out again. I repeated the motion over and over, pulling her down onto my throbbing cock, and pushing her forward away from it. She cried out with each thrust, and I was overcome with a violence that surprised me. I’d never been in such a state in my life.

  When my orgasm finally struck, it was as if I’d been connected to a high voltage power supply. The muscles in my back, my buttocks and my thighs all contracted and convulsed at once, and a gush of sperm thrust out of my cock and into Lacey’s tight pussy with such force her entire body clenched. That clenching made her even tighter, and the pleasure forced another powerful gush of semen, another wave of orgasmic ecstasy, through my body.

  She remembered my command to her. She remembered, and that changed everything. I didn’t realize it at the time, it was supposed to be just a one night thing, but her remembering my command changed both of our destinies forever.

  “Husband,” she cried out, as my cock released gush after gush of semen into her soaking pussy.

  “Wife,” I cried, my hands so tight on her tender ass that I was sure they’d leave bruises.

  My body poured itself into her like there was nothing else on earth. When my orgasm finally subsided, I collapsed onto her delicate body in a panting mess. My weight crushed her beneath me and the two of us lay there, gasping for breath.

  My cock was still inside her, and it spasmed a few last surges of semen into her as we lay there recovering.

  “Oh my God, Lacey,” I panted.

  Her shoulders were shaking.

  She was crying.

  Chapter 9

  Lacey

  I FELT LIKE SUCH AN IDIOT, crying right in front of him. The orgasm was amazing. Being with Grant was amazing. It was a dream come true. So why was I ruining it by bursting into tears like an idiot?

  Because I knew it was only going to last one night.

  He’d said it, over and over again. We’d have this one night of passion. It would be our little secret. He’d never ask me to do this again. He’d promised.

  I didn’t understand. He wanted me, but did he really only want me once? Didn’t he want this to go on and on, again and again, forever? Didn’t he want to make something out of it? Didn’t he want me?

  I’d agreed to making love reluctantly, but it wasn’t for the reason he thought. He thought he had to play things down to convince me. He thought I’d only agree to this if I knew it was a one-night-stand. He didn’t know me at all. That was the exact opposite of what I needed to hear.

  He played up the fact that it would only be this one time, and all the while, I was secretly praying it might lead to more.

  That’s why I was crying. I didn’t want it to be just once. I didn’t want a dirty little secret. I wanted something that would last. I wanted it to become something more, something real. I wanted more than just sex. I wanted a full blown relationship with Grant. God, I had to keep my mouth shut before I made a complete fool of myself.

  “Lacey,” he said, trying to turn me around. “What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?”

  “It’s nothing, Grant.”

  “It’s something.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’m just feeling emotional.”

  “Emotional?”

  He said it like he was surprised. Didn’t he know that emotions were always involved when people had sex? Was it really such a big surprise? It wasn’t just about sex. We weren’t animals. We were people, with feelings, and vulnerabilities, and secret hopes and wishes. I was making a fool out of myself. I would be so humiliated if he realized the reason I was crying was because I wanted more than he was willing to offer me.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve been made love to like that,” I said. “That’s why I’m crying.”

  Then I bit my tongue. Was that what we’d been doing? Had we made love? Or were we just fucking? Luckily Grant didn’t catch the distinction.

  “Me neither,” he said,
rolling onto his side to face me.

  I felt a momentary loss as his penis slid out of me. I was wet inside, his stickiness all over me, but already I knew that I was losing him. He’d done what he’d wanted to do. Now he was ready to move on.

  I looked into his dark eyes and then forced myself to look away, letting my eyes gaze over his naked body. His arms were so thick, so perfectly formed, the deep colors of the tattoo ink drawing my attention. His back was like a contour map, muscular hills and valleys leading all the way to the perfect valley between his buttocks.

  “Are you all right, Lacey?”

  “Of course I am. I just got a little overwhelmed. That was pretty intense.”

  “It was,” he agreed.

  “Calling each other husband and wife. What was that?”

  He shrugged. He wasn’t taking things lightly, he looked serious and thoughtful, it was just that he’d made it so abundantly clear that this was a once off thing, it made me want to cry again. Why didn’t he want me again? It made no sense. If he’d wanted my for seventeen years, why didn’t he want me for more than one night?

  “I don’t know, Lacey. I just thought, I guess, it was part of some fantasy I had in my mind. I’m sorry if it upset you. It was silly.”

  “Silly?” I said.

  “Yes.”

  I took a deep breath. I knew I should drop the subject, I should have pretended to be fine and maintained whatever dignity I could, but some part of me had to keep the conversation going.

  “I guess it’s just a little surprising, coming from the man who says he doesn’t believe in marriage,” I said.

  “I think marriage is a false promise,” he said.

  “I know, Grant. You’ve said it a million times. People have a better chance of being elected president than finding their soulmate.”

  “That’s not what I say.”

  “You say something like that.”

  He nodded. “True.”

  “So why did you want us to cry out husband and wife as we climaxed?”

  He shrugged. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would upset you. It was just a sort of … fetish.”

  “A fetish? You’re kidding me.”

  “I don’t know. Not a fetish. You know what I mean.”