“I’ve managed to organize a very nice villa for you and Matilda, we’ll lay low for a few weeks, and the office can tick over on its own for a while.”

First A, then B, then C. Easy. Whenever I was stressed, I listed things out.

Nora and I had come a long way, and by now the list was extensive, but the whole situation looked simpler if I just tried to focus on the task at hand: getting us all out of the country before my madman of a father could find us, if that’s what he intended to do.

I had already obtained restraining orders and established a fleet of bodyguards and security men around our house. But it wasn’t enough. There was a remote villa in Isla del Sol, Bolivia, and in less than 48 hours of hearing that the asshole had escaped, we were on our way to the airfield, ready to leave in the still morning quiet before even the press had time to figure it out and interfere.

At work they had told me how having a child changes your mindset. I had laughed it off. I wasn’t afraid of responsibilities. I was the president of a biopharma manufacturing company that had plants in thirteen countries, was on the board of several advocacy groups, federal hospital development committees in the city and research teams that hired literally thousands of the country’s most talented physicists, chemists and engineers. And yet making sure that Matilda and Nora were OK felt infinitely more important than any of that. It felt good to step up and defend them, and know that I had the resources to quickly whisk them away from danger if needed. I wished, in a way, that my father could have seen how much I had changed over the months. How much wiser I was now, how much more solid I felt in life and what I wanted to do with it. How I had finally learnt to tackle my demons head-on. Pity that my father himself was one of those demons.

Matilda was still sleeping soundly when we slipped out of the house early the following morning. It was well before sunrise and Nora had bundled her in a wrap and pressed her to her chest where she slept. The nanny tagged behind us and helped the security guards pile a few bags into the car. We’d have everything we needed when we arrived there; for now, we just needed to leave. Charlie was doubtful that my father would make much headway, and he was sure we could rely on the state police officers who’d been sent to monitor our house. But that was nowhere near enough. I’d rather learn that they caught him from the comfort of a villa in the Bolivian foothills, thousands of miles away. Besides, Lord knows Nora could use the break.

We all bundled into the car silently, the chill of the morning air adding a strange excitement, and set off onto the roads, which were all still eerily quiet. I glanced over at Nora in the seat beside me, little Matilda purring and hiccupping quietly in her arms. Christ, she was a beautiful woman. She caught my eye and I caught hers. We hadn’t spoken about what happened. About what she had said. About those desperate, dirty little things her body did against mine when she spoke those words that seemed half like a dream to me now.

Kill him?

It was just pillow talk. God knows I’ve said more questionable things to her myself.

Nora was a complex human being. It’s why I loved her. What happened yesterday was just a game, anyway. Just a bit of kinky make-believe. Nora needed love like a plant needs the sun. But the key to the most interesting parts of her wasn’t love. It was …something darker than that. It scared me a little.

I reached over to stroke her jawline with my fingertips. She smiled at me warmly. In any case, it was good to have broken our dry spell. And man, did we break the shit out of it. If we weren’t busy keeping quiet so as not to wake the baby, I’m sure I wouldn’t have been able to resist offering her more of what she so clearly couldn’t get enough of yesterday.

The driver, the nanny, Nora, Matilda and I all drove on in silence, me with my juicy, private thoughts of how fucking yummy it was when she came and it made her legs shake, and her toes clench and her mouth go slack, as though my cock could temporarily break her brain and make her nothing but a shuddering, limp mess on my lap.

As soon as we were safe and sound in Bolivia, I’d make sure there were plenty of opportunities to finish what we’d started upstairs in the atrium yesterday. I stared out the window and watched as the familiar roadside scenes whipped past, dimly lit by the streetlamps.

Nora needed regular fucking. She was a goddess who needed steady, generous offerings of cock, and to be worshipped at her juicy altar, often and enthusiastically. As her husband, I couldn’t think of a greater honor. Maybe we should have moved away from this city sooner.

We arrived at the deserted airfield and were met by the pilot and copilot, some security officers and two customs officials, all standing in front of the old Bombardier jet, jackets flapping a little in the morning breeze. It took only a few minutes to offload our luggage, in which time I pulled the driver aside, handed him his envelope and shook his hand again. After I shook his hand and he left in the car, I briefly chatted with the officials about our documents and visas. Then we scaled the metal steps and boarded, a sense of relief washing over me as the door was sealed shut and Nora and the nanny got to work settling Matilda in the baby crib at the back of the cabin.

The interior was still as neat and luxurious as the day I’d bought this jet years ago, initially for conferences in Europe but I later retired it to be our weekend jet, for Nora and I to go out on short trips when my schedule allowed. We took off just as a pinkish sunrise peeked over the horizon, as though it had just woken up and was surprised to see us well on our escape route. The hull shuddered and bumped a little as the plane sped along the runway, but we were soon airborne and skimming off into the sky, weightless.

The nanny, a no-nonsense matron with a heart of gold and a permanent white plastic rosary on her neck, sat quietly with Matilda in the back of the cabin. Nora whispered softly to them both then came over to me, closing a partition behind her and sealing us into a little pod of our own. She sat beside me, crossed her legs and then looked over at me, a million naughty questions in her eyes.

“Here we go again,” she said at last, smiling, voice husky. I shifted my weight towards her, pressed my head to her chest, and inhaled deeply, enjoying the soft scent of her skin and how wonderful it felt to be this close to her.

We had just had a little sexual hiccup. It was all going to be OK. We were back to our old selves again and it was all fine. Her eyes were sparkling just like they always did, and my body was responding to her on some chemical, even some subatomic level, just as it always did. Just as soon as we got to the villa in a few hours.

“Nora, what are you doing?”

I looked down to her hand at her crotch. She looked at me, giddy, her fingers teasing that tucked away spot between her crossed legs. Her lips parted a little and she stared at my lips.

Dear reader, do you know what love is? Have you ever felt what I felt just then? I used to think that love was a flimsy women’s thing. Something floaty and abstract and sappy. But oh no, love is meaty. It has bones and blood and skin, and its breath is warm…

“Oh, you want more already? Naughty girl,” I said, pleased she was clearly enjoying herself. She gave me a playful nod and then reached over to grab my hand and put it to where hers had been.

“Nora, the baby… everyone’s right there, they’ll hear us,” I said, and cast glances all around the cabin. We were alone, technically, but that could change at any moment if somebody simply opened the screens that led to either the cockpit or the pod behind us.

“Then you’d better shut up before you blow our cover,” she cooed, and I couldn’t help but smile. She pressed my hand down hard onto the hot patch between her legs, still giving me that devilish smile.

“I can’t stop thinking about yesterday,” she whispered.

“No?”

“No.”

“I wasn’t too rough?”

“Oh, you were much too rough. I can still feel it,” she said, and I was instantly rock hard.

She gave me a woozy smile and spread her legs a little wider. I scrambled to find a little blanket and threw it over our laps, but she laughed at this little gesture of modesty. She grabbed my hand and tucked it inside her jeans. Her pussy was warm and welcoming underneath. My fingers easily found their way to that soaking little split she was now spreading wide for me. She smiled, her eyes quivered closed and she focused intently on the tiny motions happening hidden under the blanket. I felt like a teenager hiding his hot young girlfriend in his bedroom and praying to god his parents didn’t hear him from downstairs.

She tilted her hips up and ground her pussy against me, but soon she grew impatient and peeled my hand away, instead thrusting her own down her pants and doing it herself. I watched with amusement; she was usually much more bashful about pleasuring herself in front of me. We were on our way to a secret location in the tropics, me and my gorgeous wife, and she was so horny she couldn’t even wait till we arrived. I unzipped and let my erection spring out and poke the blanket up into a tent. I leaned in and kissed her neck, enjoying the sight of her as she played with herself. When she pulled her hand away again and reached over to grab me, her little fingers were outrageously wet, and they slid frictionless over my cock, causing my shoulders to slump backwards, limp against the headrest.

“You fucking little minx,” I breathed.

She seemed to like this, and began stroking idly, one hand on my dick and the other still teasing out urgent little circles inside her panties. I lay back and let her work us both like this, silent except for our breath and the low hum of the jet’s engines and the dull vibration of pressure in the cabin. I closed my eyes and let her touch me like only she knew how. It was warm and lazy. Even with all our clothes on, staring straight ahead, we were fucking, in a way.

She would give a little excited shiver, and it was as though the impulse travelled through her one arm to the other, delivering that shiver to me, and soon, the thought of her slowly mounting pleasure had me eagerly following.

“When we get to Bolivia, the first thing I need is your fat cock,” she whispered, to nobody in particular.

“Oh, you’ll get it. First and second thing.”

“This…” she said and stroked her fingers all up the length and then down again. “All of it.”

“I’m not going to go easy on you though.”

“God yes.”

“And once I start, I’m not going to stop…”

Twitch.

“I’m going to fuck that little cunt of yours so hard you won’t walk right for days…”

Twitch.

“And then when you can’t take anymore I’m going to make you get on your hands and knees and suck me,” I breathed.

When she came, it was intense and quick and completely silent. She gripped the armrest with her other hand and bit down as her orgasm beat through her. Maybe in sympathy, maybe because of the way she sped up her hand around my stiff cock, I came too, unable to stifle a little whimper as we came together, both our bodies steered by her expert touch.

Her hand closed around the tip of my cock and held me close as I pulsed into her fist, head rushing with thoughts of all the dirty things I wanted to do her when we landed. I emptied out into her hand and then, to my surprise, she instantly pulled away and examined her sticky white fingertips. In a heartbeat she had caught my eye again and held eye contact as she slid her middle finger into her mouth and sucked off the cum, before turning her tongue to her other fingers, suggestively licking each finger clean of the hot white cum laced over them. Her other hand was still buried between her legs, and she kept stroking slowly.

“I love how you taste,” she purred, so softly I couldn’t help but lean in closer. God, I loved when she did that. I already felt like a million bucks but something about watching her greedy little tongue lap up every last drop of my cum made me feel like a king.

“There’s more where that came from,” I growled. She laughed and gently slipped her hand out of her panties and innocently placed it above the blanket.

“Hm, really? I want it somewhere else next time, though,” she said sweetly, and gave me a smoldering look. I was about to lean in and kiss her, and tell her exactly why she should be careful what she wished for because I was going to give it to her until she was a sweaty, spasming ball of pleasure, overflowing with—

The screen door clicked and slid open, we spun around to look and saw the nanny poking her head through the crack, staring straight back at us.

“She’s asleep,” she whispered. “I’m going to try and catch a few hours myself.”

Nora and I must have looked liked the two guiltiest people on the face of the earth, grinning like idiots and covered over awkwardly with a blanket. She gave us a curious look but said nothing, then closed the screen. We turned to each other and burst into giggles, which quickly turned into hungry, passionate kisses. Her fingers still smelt and tasted of her. Her temples were still faintly glowing with sweat. There was still some laughter on her lips as we settled into a deeper kiss and then collapsed into a deep, warm hug, her warm body folded in my arms and her head tucked neatly under my chin. I kissed the top of head over and over again.

We flew on in silence for the longest time. The post-orgasm glow faded a little and my mind wandered to other things. Like it often did these last few days, it went to a thought I liked to pretend didn’t exist: the time she faked.

I know, I know, you probably think I’m being a big baby about it. I had the perfect wife who was more than happy to do filthy things with me in semi-public places and then curl up in my lap afterwards like the world’s sexiest kitten. I knew she loved me. What right did I have to get hung up on one single faked orgasm? But I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Nora, would you ever lie to me?” I said. She barely registered the question.

“No. Never,” she said simply, without lifting her head.

Though I wasn’t sure why I’d asked the question, hearing her answer suddenly made everything feel worse.

I kissed her forehead again and stared out the window at the featureless sheet of blue that now expanded beneath us in all directions. And then I couldn’t stop thinking about all sorts of other awkwardly shaped ideas. Like why she had even thought of going to work as a Domme again. Like why she hadn’t seemed more shocked about my father’s escape. It’s not that I was afraid of her lying to me. It was not that I thought there was something in her that she was keeping from me. It was more the sinking feeling that Nora might have some strange, faraway private life that didn’t include me. That didn’t need to include me. That Nora could play a game I didn’t know the rules to.

I kissed her head again, as though that would help anything, and tried to get some sleep myself. But every time I closed my eyes, dark images flitted up to taunt me like demons. Images I’d be ashamed to share with even her. I snapped my eyes open and tried to forget about it. I was a family man now, a man of honor and purpose and integrity. I couldn’t lose my shit. I shut the thoughts far from my mind but couldn’t shift the strange change in mood that had come over me.

Over the next hour, while she dozed, I decided quietly in myself that I had been too lenient with her, too indulgent. Faking with me was unforgiveable. And so I entertained myself secretly with all the punishing things I would do to her that would make sure she never, ever tried that bullshit with me again.