Marley has never been a normal girl. When I met her, that’s what I loved about her. Unlike other girls who slapped you in the face with rebel bad girl sentiments, Marley appeared normal. Just another girl. Except you’d talk to her and you’d find that she wasn’t. She used to say that when she died, she wanted me to leave her in a grassy field so animals could eat her. So she could be “part of the energy of things.” When she grocery shopped, she used to calculate her total expense as she dropped things into her buggy. She would add it all up in her head, just as a game. When I fucked her that first night in Vegas, she lit me up like the motherfucking Strip; she cleaned my clock like a fist in a cage fight. Marley burned out what was in me and made me feel cleaner. Lighter.

At the time, I’d never felt so free before. And so I married her.

What happened next—how we unraveled—was not her-specific. We fell on the swords of youth and my addiction. My not-normal girl was maybe needier than normal. She wanted more than average, while I was capable of giving so much less. It was like math, what happened. We just didn’t add up. Marley removed herself from the equation.

“You want me between your legs?” I ask her now. “You want my cock inside your cunt?”

I wait for her to flinch at my crass language. When Marley nods slowly, I can’t hold back a groan.

“You can’t just say that shit.”

“I’m not just saying it.” She straightens her spine, and I see her for the first time, maybe, as the woman she is now.

“You want to fuck me,” I say slowly.

“Yes.” Her cheeks redden for a moment. “That was never our problem, was it?”

Fuck sure wasn’t. But still… “You want me to knock you up? You really want to have a baby that you made with me?”

Her blush is darker this time. “I could go to a sperm bank, but c’mon, Gabe. This is such a good idea as far as logic goes. I know you’re not a psychopath or serial killer. You don’t have diabetes, cystic fibrosis, something like that.”

“Not diabetes. Marley, you’re my fucking ex.”

“Is that a ‘no’ then?” Her face locks down.

“Would you share this baby? Child?”

“Yes. We could offer him or her a mom and a dad. Who once were married.” She grins, shaking her head. “See? It’s almost normal.”

“And if I want to tie your arms?” I step closer. “And plug your ass? And make it ache? Is that what you have in mind, Marley? Do you want to get down on your knees for me? Because that’s all I want. That’s what I’d want from you.”

I see my harsh words make their mark, but then I watch her face take on a sterner look. “I liked the other day. It was better than I’d had in years. Since you. I don’t have to be your friend to enjoy you in bed.”

My cock hardens so fast, I have to grit my teeth to keep a moan in. “You can’t tell me that.”

Her mouth twitches. “That’s why I did.”

“Oh, Marley. What are you doing?”

“Making you an offer.” She smiles sweetly, and I know for sure she’s not as reckless as she seems. I’ve been a dick to her since she moved in, and Marley probably doesn’t trust me as far as she could throw me. But she doesn’t care about that. It doesn’t matter that we have this history. Hell, she may not have a shred of feeling left for me. I’m a means to an end, for her. A stepping stone on her path to what she wants, which evidently is a baby.

She shrugs. “Think about it.”

Then she turns and disappears through her door. She’s closing it behind her when I push it open.

My balls ache as I say, “Go sit on the couch.”

I see her eyes flare with surprise. To my delight, she does exactly what I ask, sitting on her couch with her hands on her knees, still wearing her ridiculous alien jumpsuit.

“Take the costume off.”

I watch as she unties it at the neck and peels the top part off, exposing smooth skin and creamy breasts that strain a black lace bra. She stands to step out of the lower half, revealing black panties and legs that look exactly as I recall: sinfully voluptuous, with just a hint of definition and a lot of fucking curve. There’s never been a body like Marley’s.

When she’s finished, standing mostly naked in front of me with her head tilted and a sly smile on her mouth, she does a wink thing and says, “Your turn.”

Jesus Christ.

She’s peering up at me with lust-drunk eyes as I lower the sheet around my waist.

I tug my throbbing cock. “You want this?”

She reaches for me, and when her hand closes around my head, my eyes shut. I let Marley run her smooth, soft hands over my cock, tracing a vein down to the base, then cupping my balls.

“I could make it really good for you,” she whispers. I grit my teeth as she strokes the hot spot at the underside of my head. “It would be kind of a trade,” she says. “My body for your sperm.”

I groan as she starts pumping. “Marley,” I breathe. “I’m an alcoholic.”

She tightens her grip on me, making my feet arch. “So what? Everyone has something.”

She wraps her mouth around my head and gives a tugging suck. “I know this is crazy,” she says as she licks down my shaft. “It’s a crazy plan…” She licks back up me. “But I think there could be…something in it…for us both.”

Her free hand cups my balls, rolling them gently. “You could be as involved as you want. Lots or not a lot.”

She sucks my cock into her mouth again, and it’s a struggle to stay standing as she traces my slit with the tip of her tongue.

“You have the best dick,” she says, more to it than me. “I’ve thought so even when the rest of you is a dick, too.”

I clench my fingers in her hair, and Marley deep throats me a few times.

“Fuck…” I can barely stand up.

“Why don’t you sit, and I can kneel in front of you?”

When I blink, I find her brown eyes warm, her face pleasant and sincere. I could get used to this. And that’s exactly why I can’t sit. I keep up the charade I started almost fourteen years ago—the idea that I’m some kind of dominant, that I need to be in control—for the same reason I used to.

I can’t get relaxed with Marley. Not then, and for fuck’s sake, not right now.

I carry her into the room I think is likely hers. It’s warm and quaint, filled with a maple antique bedroom set, including a queen-sized bed with a hand-carved, wall-high headboard. I lay her on the bed, and Mar gives me a small, dreamy smile.

Dear fuck.

She’s not your wife, I tell myself. Where in the past I told myself to open up to her, that we were trying for something, now I must remember at all times that what we’re trying for is sperm plus egg. My cock in her cunt. Marley’s whimper and my moan.

I strip off her underthings, my cock growing harder, heavier at the sight of her plump, perfect pussy and her wet-dream tits. I think of nudging up between her legs and dining on that cunt, but I’m so hard, I might come just from having her, and that won’t do for the good dom.

I rub a finger through her slickness, stroke my fingertip over her clit until she’s lifting her hips, and then I stretch out beside her and beckon her until she’s close enough to grab. I bring her down atop my face and pant as Marley’s tongue traces around my head.

Then I fill her soft cunt with my fingers, and I start to lick her core…along her slit…around her clit: teasing her—and Marley jerks and yelps between lapping at me like an ice cream cone.

Finally, I give her clit some love, and she is moaning, pumping my shaft, stroking my balls, and it’s as if she remembers her unholy task as I start lapping at her in earnest, because she sucks my cock into her mouth, taking me so deep she coughs, then blows me like the hooker that I know she isn’t. Goddamn, I forgot the kind of head she gives…

Marley knows exactly what I need and when. The only thing that keeps me from spurting down her throat in something like a minute is my focus on her cunt. I need her whimpering and sagging on my face, and pretty soon, that’s how I have her. She’s still deep-throating me, but with less focus. Good.

I can feel her jerky breathing, feel her shaking. I trace a ring around her clit, then focus on her slit and filling her pussy with my writhing fingers.

Marley hums around my cock, and my tongue on her clit goes limp as my balls draw up.

She swirls her tongue around me, and I try to think of something else as I lick up and down her puffy seam, parting her lips and lapping at her clit.

“Please,” she starts to whimper. The wetter she gets, the tighter she feels around my fingers, the harder and deeper she sucks me, until I’m right there on the ledge and have to think of babies to hold off so I can finish her. And then I do, and she sucks me so deep and hard, I see stars.

I shut my eyes, let out a breath, and let myself come.

Marley laps up all of me. When the deed is done, I ease her off me and lay her on her bed, then pull the covers over her. When she looks up at me, her eyelids are heavy.

“It makes me so sleepy…” She smiles, and it’s as if not one day has passed between twelve years ago and now. She always smiled with her heart in her eyes. I remember how it used to make me feel disarmed.

I try to pretend I don’t feel that way right now. I think I succeed, because she looks a little less relaxed as she brushes her hair out of her eyes and sits up.

“So—does this mean you want to make a baby with me?”