Hillary
Five years later
I’M FEELING...WELL, I don’t even know how I’m feeling. I just finished my very last final exam and am now officially done with my degree in advertising. I thought I would feel really excited or relieved or happy or something, but I just feel like I checked off a box on my to-do list.
A nine-year to-do list, but it’s still anticlimactic.
Mac asked me to stop at Old Joe’s on my way home and pick up his debit card that he dropped on the floor that morning. It’s a little weird. Mac is not the guy that loses his debit card. Not like me who lost my keys the first day we met.
I suppose I should be thankful I’m such a mess. It got me the guy, right? I figure the man who met me with cankles but still found me attractive is a keeper. I have pretty good ankles now, I must say. I don’t work out as much as I should, but I give it more effort than I used to. Mostly because Mac insisted on the self-defense class which led to me actually enjoying hitting and kicking things. Who knew? Now we have bags in the basement for my hitting and kicking pleasure.
I almost forget to stop at Old Joe’s. I’m making more lists in my head. What I need at the grocery store for one. I think it’s my night to cook dinner. I’m almost sure of it. Maybe I’ll get a double shot of something before I leave. It’s rare that I don’t need a jolt of caffeine. I pull open the door expecting to hear the bell above it jingle. Instead, I hear, “Surprise!”
The banner above the register says, “Congratulations, Hillary!” Standing in front of the counter are Mac, my parents, Joe, Cap, our neighbors, and my sweet daughters, Kenzie and Ricki. Well, okay, they aren’t really all that sweet. Every now and then they are, though.
I immediately tear up and then mentally count the days since my last period while everyone hugs me. No, I’m good. Tears of happiness, not tears of hormonalness. I love our kids, but I am not ready for a third.
“Mommy,” Kenzie hands me her artwork. “I made this at school today for you.”
I clutch it to my chest and give everyone hugs and kisses. “Thank you, everyone, for being here. I couldn’t have gotten my degree without all of you.”
I catch the eye of my husband. Especially you, I tell him with my eyes.
I have zero clue what I’m actually going to do with this degree. I’ve spent the last few years concentrating on small children, and Ricki isn’t in school yet, so I’m not going to start work until they are both full-time. But I finished it. That was the important part.
Mac slides his arm around my waist when we find a small pocket of privacy. “So proud of you, babe,” he says into my neck.
Instant goose bumps. Still After all these years.
I turn in his arms. “I’m glad to be done. Now, I’ll have more free time in the evenings, after the girls go to bed.” I press my boobs into his chest. “I need a new hobby. Any ideas?”
He looks down my shirt. “I have a few.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You can watch the games with me. Basketball is your favorite, right?”
I wince. Not basketball. He still wants to watch it all the time and it still annoys the hell out of me. “Funny. I was thinking something more active, maybe.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Maybe we could buy one of those Kama Sutra books and try a new position every night.”
I feel him harden against my stomach. “That’s better than basketball.”
We have our coffee and cake and go home. I stop for takeout instead of groceries.
Our house is small, sometimes it feels even smaller than our last apartment, but it’s got a small yard and it’s close to the schools. I remember worrying how I was going to raise my daughter alone, now I never have to face anything alone.
After dinner and baths and storytime, I take a long bath myself. When I’m boneless and relaxed, I decide tonight is an excellent night to try something new.
I slide into bed next to my husband and grab the remote to turn off whatever ESPN show he was engrossed in. He gives me a look and a pinched expression.
“You will be happy I did that. Trust me.”
He blows air out his nostrils, but his curiosity is piqued when I open the nightstand drawer and toss a bottle of lube in front of him. Up goes his eyebrow.
“Really?”
I nod.
Mac kisses me, his tongue probing, his lips sucking. We’ve been close to going in the backdoor several times, but I always chicken out. Tonight, I’m up for adventure.
I tug his shirt. “I want your skin, Stryker.”
He gives a slow, graceful smile, and I feel bits of my heart bloom. “So take what you want, baby.”
I undress us both slowly, and he watches intently. “I love the way you’re looking at me right now.”
“I love looking at you.”
I swipe my hand across his chest and down, his muscles jump reflexively under my hands. “I love touching you, too.” My hands continue to rove over the mountains and valleys of his cut torso, the soft, downy happy trail showing me the way to where I want to be.
I smell the hollow of his throat. Mine. He’s mine. He was made for me.
He wrestles me under him, and I pretend to fight him off, my resistance a turn-on to us both. I want to take and be taken.
We’re kissing and the heat, the longing, and the need in his eyes, makes me so wet. “I got you, now,” he says.
“I guess you do. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“Always need to challenge me, don’t you?” A dimple flashes and he bites my nipple.
I arch into him. My body is humming at his promise. I’m up for everything. I want his hot, wet mouth. I want his dick inside me. I want everything.
He moves up to the head of the bed, straddling me. His dick is thick and heavy, sprouting proudly from a dark nest of curls. He’s leaking with desire, the tip of him glistening. He feeds it to me slowly. I love the taste of him. The silk of his dick on my tongue.
“Oh, baby. You’re going to make me come too fast like this. And I want your ass tonight.” He pulls himself away and crawls back down the bed, lowering his face. “This pussy. Fuck.”
The licks, the sucks, the kisses to my pussy and the tight rim of our next frontier are not controlled. My husband is feasting on me, and the noises he’s making are clearly those of a happy man.
He moves up my body until we’re face to face. The look in his eyes is calculating as fuck. “I’m going to fuck you now, baby.” His lays his cock against me so I feel its girth, its length. He picks up the lube. “You sure about this?”
I nod as he prepares his giant cock with lube. I’m nervous but excited. I get on my hands and knees. His cockhead presses against my ass, and then he pushes in slow and holds there, kissing my spine. I stretch around him, a little pain mixed in with the pleasure. I can feel every inch of him as he works it into me. Nerves I didn’t know I had tingle and zap. I turn to look over my shoulder and watch his face as he watches where we are joined. He’s trying so hard to keep that feral animal inside him controlled, but each second is harder than the next for him.
He takes it slow and lets me get used to him, inch by inch. I clench my jaw and gasp, feeling him work that fat cock deeper into me. My husband always feels so big and solid. I’m intensely full.
He hisses with pleasure when his balls finally slap against my pussy. He’s all the way in now. Dull discomfort mixes with pleasure inside me. He withdraws, and I get a second of relief. Another thrust. Gradually, I can feel him picking up the pace, and a pleasurable pain radiates out from my center.
“You’re so tight. You feel amazing.” He rides me harder and adds his hand to my pussy, rubbing my clit. The things he does with his fingers makes me see stars. "You're so wet, naughty girl," he says. "Your sweet pussy is so tight and hot and wet on my fingers. And your ass is squeezing me so tight."
It’s too much. All the sensations are overwhelming. “Finish me,” I plead. “God, please.”
“Baby, I thought you’d never fucking ask.” He grinds his pelvis into me, and he uses his thumb on my clit, hard.
Light flashes behind my eyes as I come, clenching hard on his dick. It’s raw. Pure. Untamed. Mac roars, that animal finally let out of his cage, and he pumps more and more into my body.
When he collapses on the pillow next to me, neither of us know what to say. So, we start to laugh.
“Jesus. That was amazing. I love you so much. Are you okay? Did it hurt?”
I snuggle into him. “A little. The good kind of hurt though. Tell me that again tomorrow when I try to sit down though.”
We clean up and get a snack, watch some TV, and as I drift off to sleep, I realize that my life just keeps getting better every day. That the secret is trusting him. Trusting love. And saying what I feel. That’s all I have to do.
Tomorrow is another day. I promised Ricki we could make cookies when her sister goes to school. I should probably clean the bathrooms—things slid a lot during finals. Maybe I can get out of cooking dinner tomorrow, though, if I suggest we BBQ. Mac likes to think he’s some kind of gourmet at the grill, and I let him because it makes him happy, and it’s less work for me.
He curls around me in his sleep, pressing my back into his chest.
Yeah, I’m glad my life exploded into such mess five years ago. My heart got pretty banged up and bruised, but it makes it all the sweeter now.
***
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