The Marriage Mistake

by Natalie Knight

  “Shh,” he says, gently but firmly. “I’ll need to tell you at some point in time anyway, so I may as well make it now.”

  Something hard and cold squeezes my heart. Is there something wrong with him? Maybe he’s fatally ill, which of course would explain this whole wanting an heir thing.

  Oh, my god. That’s it. He’s dying.

  Here I was, getting drawn in by his charm and wanting to have his baby―and maybe so much more―and he’s about to die.

  I press my hand to my mouth, my eyes wide, not wanting to hear what he has to say, but needing to know all the same.

  “It’s…” He starts and stops again. “As you must understand, this is fucking difficult to talk about.”

  Difficult? Do I understand?

  Now I feel more of those tears well up in my eyes. If I’m not careful, I’ll start bawling my eyes out before he’s even started to tell me the bad news.

  I wonder how long he’s got? Are we talking days, months, or years? Would the baby even get to know his or her father?

  When he looks at me with his crooked smile, I know I missed something.

  “Um, sorry,” I mumble and take another sip of my drink. I can’t imagine what my face must look like right now.

  “The thing is, I don’t seem to be able to, well…um…to come inside a woman if I don’t…wear a condom.”

  Wait, what? Hold the train.

  Did I hear him correctly? I regret taking a sip of my drink because it’s all I can do to not spit it out all over the place right now.

  I want to laugh, because this surely is a joke, but one look at Daniel’s face tells me he wouldn’t understand. I mean, I thought he was dying.

  But this? I never expected this. This problem is something different altogether.

  Something I have no idea how to wrap my head around.

  “So…” I’m not quite sure what to say.

  “I know.” Daniel’s kneading his hands together. “It’s silly, really, but—” He stops again.

  “And it can’t be…treated?”

  I have to admit I’ve never heard of the condition. It almost sounds made up. But surely there must be something he can do.

  I’m no psychologist, but it sounds very much like a psychological thing to me.

  He sighs and looks at me. Those puppy eyes have grown even larger, if that’s possible.

  “The cures the doctor suggested are all silly, and the ones I’ve tried haven’t worked at all.”

  “Cures?” Where the hell is this going? This is getting stranger by the second. I tilt my head to the side and wait.

  “He prescribed a mix of herbs, which I drank, but that didn’t work. He also suggested I drink more goat’s milk.”

  I raise an eyebrow at the goat milk suggestion, pressing my lips together to keep from laughing.

  Daniel shrugs. “Apparently, goats are hornier than cows or something.”

  I can’t contain it anymore. I burst out laughing. He’s totally fucking with me.

  “And he also said to try dancing naked in the moonlight on a deserted beach before…you know,” he trails off, grinning.

  I take his hand and make him look at me. I’m pretty sure he thinks this condition is real, but I think it’s all in his head. Just like I know telling me this has to be a huge fucking blow to his ego.

  But seriously, the guy is a fucking sex god. Never in my life have I experienced anything like I have with him. He’s done me a huge favor by showing me what I’ve been missing.

  Just like he’s doing me a huge favor with this baby bargain…if we ever seal the deal, that is.

  Time for me to return those favors.

  “I’ll help you find a cure somehow,” I promise him, and I fucking mean it. Because you know what? Finding the ‘cure’ for this sounds like a whole lot of fucking fun.

  And like a whole lot of fucking.

  I’m so up to the challenge.

  Daniel

  Sure, my chest feels lighter from having just spewed the truth about my condom setback to Rose, but the fact that she’s staring blankly at me as if she’s having a difficult time digesting this new information gives me an unsettling feeling.

  I swallow hard and can’t think of anything else to do, so I just stay there, staring at her and praying that she says something—anything—before my self-assurance crumbles like a dry cake.

  She opens her mouth.

  Yes! Progress.

  Then, she shuts it close again and furrows her brows with concern. Apparently, we’re back to square one again.

  Maybe I should break the silence, but I don’t want to end up saying the wrong thing. My stomach churns, tightening into a ball of stress and nerves that makes me feel heavy inside.

  My heart gallops like a racehorse in my chest. Come on, Rose, talk to me, baby.

  Even if she opts to curse me, hit me, swear and scream at me, I’ll take that over the void of silence that clings to the air like a wet t-shirt sticking to my back.

  If she doesn’t talk soon, I’m going to go nuts. No pun intended. You know, nuts and semen and not being able to come without a bag on and all that…

  Okay, fine. Whatever. Even I admit that one is in poor taste.

  Rose glances out the window and heaves a sigh as if she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders and doesn’t know how to release some of the burden.

  I’d love to help her, to swoop in and be her knight in shining armor, if only I can get past this coming-in-her-pussy mishap.

  She’s looking at me and piercing my heart with her soul. I’m intoxicated, enthralled, and captivated by her, and I would take a fucking bullet for her. The last thing I want to do is cause her any type of pain or suffering, believe me.

  “Do you think…” she whispers and trails off, looking out the window as if whatever inkling of a budding thought in her mind is preposterous and not worth verbalizing.

  “What? Tell me…you can talk to me and tell me your thoughts on the matter. I know it sounds insane, ridiculous, and made up, but I swear I want to make this work for you…for us.”

  I try not to sound like I’m pleading with her, like I’m negotiating her off of a high bridge that she’s threatening to jump from.

  I genuinely want to fix my problem, and if she has any insight, then by all means, she needs to share it with me for the good of the cause.

  I gently hold onto her arms and rub them with affection, caressing her to swoon her and coax the ideas right out of her gorgeous, brilliant brain.

  Rose pauses midsentence, but then reveals a question that disappoints me because I’m certain she’s not going to favor my response in the slightest.

  “Maybe there’s another way?” Her voice is high and sharp with an enthusiasm that breaks my heart.

  I shake my head, but Rose interrupts me. I shift my weight uncomfortably as she grips my arm with her long, slender, and sexy fingers.

  “I know you said you went to that doctor, but honestly? He sounds like a quack. There’s got to be…something that can help you work through this.” She doesn’t sound frantic yet, but she’s barreling down that path for sure.

  “Rose…” I begin, easing her in by treading lightly here. I’m already failing miserably at making her emotionally satisfied.

  Physical satisfaction? One hundred percent guaranteed, every single time. I nail that shit.

  Pun intended this time.

  I respect her gut reaction. Sure, she wants to see me get better, and believe me, I want that, too. I mean, it’s not like I can hold up my end of the bargain if I don’t. It’s just…well, lately I’ve been feeling like it’s a hopeless case.

  “Tell me. Let’s figure this out together,” she murmurs.

  Wow. Finally, a woman who’s willing to stand behind me even when it seems like a lost case.

  “I’ve already tried loads of treatment,” I reply as I shake my head and dismiss the idea. “Nothing has worked so far.”

  “Well…that just means we haven
’t found the right option out there for you yet.” Rose glances up at me with a positive twinkle in her eyes that I hate to shoot down out of the clouds with a disappointment-filled arrow.

  I take a deep breath, preparing myself to dive into the most elaborate explanation I can give her as to why I’m a fucking mess.

  I rub my tired temples and shuffle my feet against the cool hardwood floor. “I’ve already tried three treatments,” I remind her.

  “The doctors can’t find a cure. Okay. But Daniel, this isn’t a medical condition. At least not one I’ve ever heard of. Perhaps it’s a psychological thing then…” Rose trails off with newfound optimism.

  “I tried the methods, but nothing has worked so far,” I tell her the brutal, honest truth of the matter.

  A smile spreads across Rose’s beautiful, full lips. She seductively places a hand on my chest and scratches her nails up and down my torso.

  Then she hugs me close, and I inhale the scent of her shampoo. It smells like lavender, and I can just shut my eyes and picture myself fucking her in a valley of wildflowers.

  I wish I could be doing that with her right now, but having her embrace me in will have to be second best, just so long as she stays near me. I never want to let her go, but she pulls away and gives me a tender smile.

  “Just so you know…” she begins.

  “Yeah?” I wait expectantly as arousal pulses in my cock yet again.

  “If we ever do decide to do this, I will be there, right by your side, so you can find a…cure for your affliction.”

  I breathe out an audible sigh of relief.

  “Thank you.” I grab her to swing her close to me once again.

  I begin to show her my gratitude by first kissing her soft, rosy cheeks. My actions are subtle at first, nurturing―and swell my cock even more.

  The taste of her cherry lip gloss lingers on my mouth as she delicately parts hers to allow me access to her beautiful body, one perfect sliver at a time.

  The fire ignites once again in my belly and spreads to every limb, toe, finger―every fucking extremity I have. I’m fucking addicted to Rose, and you can be damn sure I’m not going to let her get away from me.

  Hungrily and urgently, I shower her with kisses that make her skin prickle with pleasure, chill bumps rising on her smooth flesh.

  The flames of desire burn between us. I want to pleasure her over and over. I want her to scream with ecstasy that only I can give her.

  With playful roughness, I push her up against the glass wall of my penthouse overlooking the city.

  I delicately undress her, deliberately taking my time so that she’ll go wild as desire takes over every fiber of her being.

  I pull her shirt over her head and caress her full, spectacular tits. She’s not wearing a bra, so I don’t have to worry about fussing with anything. Not that it matters―I’m a natural when it comes to removing articles of female clothing from their bodies.

  Rose is moaning now, her cheeks flushed in anticipation as I push her legs apart with a wicked grin, just for her.

  She’s intoxicating, and the blossoming scent of her delicious, ripe, and glistening pussy drives me fucking wild.

  I want to pay her back for the debt I owe her, the virtue of exemplary patience, because I know how frustrating it must be to not know what’s going to happen next with our deal. With us.

  I want to make her come all over my face, all over my hands, fucking everywhere. I want to taste her hot, warm cum as it oozes and drips out of her sweet, decadent pussy lips.

  I take two fingers and push them inside of her as she gasps, giggling and moaning as she wiggles around on top of me.

  I spend a few minutes pumping my fingers in and out of her as I kiss along her slender neck and shoulders, thrusting faster and faster, rubbing simultaneously against both her G-spot and her clit.

  I use my thumb to play with her clit, swirling magical circles of pleasure and erotic bliss over her engorged bud and continue to push my fingers deeper inside of her to nail her G-spot again and again.

  My efforts are soon rewarded when Rose grips my hair with her fingers and pulls it, digging her nails into my scalp as she rocks back and forth on the window.

  She comes in an explosion of sheer bliss, shaking uncontrollably for a moment. When she winds down from her climax, breathing heavily and laughing, I decide to give her a wonderful show.

  I take my fingers, the ones that were just a few seconds ago inside of her slit and smell them. Rose pants with pure fucking desire, and I can see that I’ve got her totally fucking enthralled.

  I take my tongue and slowly graze it across my index and middle fingers, then suck on them, making sure to savor it as if I’m sucking on a lollipop.

  “You taste incredible,” I tell her as I lick my lips.

  “Why don’t you use your mouth this time?” Rose grins and pushes my head between her legs, and hikes herself up on the window so that she’s sitting on my face. Fuck, she’s like a wet dream come true.

  In good position now, I rake my tongue across her clit and swollen pussy lips until she moans wildly with pleasure.

  I swirl my tongue around, working hard and reciting the fucking alphabet on her clit until she violently shakes on top of me, coming again in record time.

  She’s out of breath, glistening in the afterglow of two intensely erotic back-to-back orgasms, and my cock is as hard as a fucking rock.

  Rose stares down at it and grins with mischievous flare. “Now,” she whispers seductively like the naughty girl she is, “I want to return the favor.” She pushes her index finger into my chest.

  “Okay. No arguments here.” I grin, desire clouding my mind with fresh, insatiable lust.

  “Wait!” I halt Rose right before she opens her mouth as wide as she can to swallow me in one bite.

  “What is it?” She appears alarmed.

  “Um…I need a condom…” I wince and trail off. I mean, do I really? I don’t know.

  I should be able to come in her fucking mouth, right? Not like I’m going to knock her up like that.

  At this point I’m starting to wonder if it is just all in my head. Pun intended.

  “Okay.” Rose sighs and I can tell she’s trying not to make me feel even more uncomfortable than I already am. “Go and get one, if you need it.”

  In that case, I whisper a quick apology into her ear and jog to my bathroom where I fumble quickly through the cabinets, finding one at last and retrieving it in a swipe.

  I run back to Rose, ready and lured in by her cinnamon eyes. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

  Rose

  I think he misunderstood my intention.

  My bad. I’ll give him a blowjob later.

  But now that he’s armed with a condom, we better get right down to business.

  With the lights of the city behind us, I sit on the window ledge and spread my legs for him. I’m his for the taking.

  Of course I’m having a little trouble concentrating on the sex. His condom problem is, well, kind of unnerving.

  Part of me wants to rush off and consult Dr. Google. I mean, if anyone can offer help, it’s the great search engine of the Interwebz.

  I bet if we type in need help to get rid of need to wear condom during sex all the time or some similar shit, there’d be thousands of returns. Admittedly, it would not be in the millions, but how many different ways do you need to read about solving the same problem, right?

  I’ve never understood why you get like a bazillion search results when you search for something.

  What’s the point? Two or three pages, about thirty results, would be just fine. I hardly ever get to page two on search results.

  Anyway, I can’t help but think Daniel might be stumbling around in the dark about his problem because he doesn’t actually want to find a solution.

  It’s pretty obvious to me. With so many women wanting to have his child and openly talking about it on any social media outlet that will let them, I’m surprised needing to
wear a condom during a pussy fuck is his only problem.

  I guess I should be grateful he’s still able to fuck. It would be so much worse if he couldn’t do it at all. Sex with condom is better than no sex and no condom.

  The thoughts are getting me confused right now.

  I’m so distracted I don’t realize at first that Daniel is pulling me off the ledge and toward the ultra-comfortable, super-soft leather lounge.

  It’s the kind of lounge you never want to leave once you’re sitting on it. As he pushes me onto it, I sigh.

  Instead of lying on my back and facing him, he rolls me over so I’m face down. I push myself up on my arms and present him with my ass. Part of the reason I do this is I fear I may just fall asleep on my tummy on this gorgeous couch.

  Daniel rubs my ass and lets his fingers go down to my pussy. The tip of his cock is poking at my cheeks.

  Without any command from me, my ass is pushing toward him, begging him to enter me. But Daniel’s quite content to play with me.

  His fingers tease my clit and draw little circles all around it, touching it only every now and again.

  I push against him again and lower my upper body a little.

  This man is a fucking expert at pleasuring me and driving me insane with desire. If he doesn’t push his massive cock into me like right fucking now, I might die from anticipation.

  Why a man with his skill level has any kind of sexual problem is beyond me.

  Is needing to wear latex even a sexual problem? I don’t think so. Like even saying sexual and problem in the same sentence when referring to Daniel is totally an oxymoron.

  Yeah, so not a sexual problem. Sounds totally like a psychological problem to me, though. I mean, I’m no fucking psychologist, but I know most problems as far as sex is concerned are psychological.

  My grandma was a firm believer that there’s no such thing as a fertility problem. If a couple can’t conceive, it’s because they’re too stressed about wanting or needing to have a baby. I don’t know about all that, but you get my point.

  Wanting a baby. I so want a baby. Daniel’s baby.

  There’s no doubt in my mind now.