I head out of work, feeling free. Three weeks’ vacation after four years of work. Not the best, but not the worst. In three days we leave, hitting the highway, a cross country road trip—technically our honeymoon but I know Alana chose it so I could get some killer shots done. She’s really been encouraging me—or should I say threatening me—to get out there and expose my work. And she said she’d punch any prick in the nose that talks shit about it.
My little spitfire.
I look down at my phone. It’s my mom. We’re starting to be okay. Almost. She was furious when she found out me and Alana eloped but Pete must have convinced her to suck it up and accept my marriage and my life or get left out of it. I love my mom, she’s the first and only woman before Alana I’ve ever loved. But I won’t let anyone, not even her, make Alana’s life any harder than it has to be.
“Hey Mom.”
“Ian, finally. I just wanted to know if Alana eats pork. I know a lot of people don’t and I want to make sure she enjoys dinner.” She’s trying, I can hear it in her voice, and it make me smile.
“Yeah Mom. Whatever you make she’ll love. She’s not hard to please, Mom.”
“Okay. Great. I’m excited to see you guys. Tomorrow at seven, right?” she confirms.
“Yup,” I answer her.
“Good. I love you Son…tell Alana I said hello, okay?” I smile, thinking how much things have changed.
“I got you Mom. Love you too.”
I grab a party-sized bag of snickers on the way home. Alana eats these things like Tic Tacs. I have no idea how she has perfect teeth with as much candy as she eats. I head in and take in what’s been our love nest. The apartment looks twice as big with Devin’s things all moved out. Him and Shauna moved to a condo in the suburbs so the apartment’s all ours and we’ve christened every room, and the hallway, even the little closets…that was interesting and the most fun I’ve had in awhile. It’s different coming into it now. Before it was just a place to crash, eat, and fuck. Now it’s home. She’s made me realize home isn’t a place with walls, it’s where your love is. I laugh at myself. I’ve become such a pussy but maybe that happens when you’re getting some of the best pussy you ever had every night.
“Babe,” I call out to her. She meets me in the bedroom doorway, just an oversized white t-shirt covering her body, her arms folded, and wearing a sexy grin on her face. I drop the bag I’m holding and close the door.
“It’s official, I’m unemployed,” she tells me with a pout. I stop inches in front of her, my eyes dragging up her body, and stop at her lips which curve into a smile.
“I take it you’re happy,” she says huskily. I’ve been waiting for her to get out of that place since the day we first slept together, from when she became mine. It wasn’t logical, she argued. She easily made a few thousand a month and if I wasn’t going to replace it I couldn’t tell her what to do. But after she became my wife she promised after she banked ten grand she’d stop, but only if I started to pursue photography. Our trip next week makes our deal official. I’ve started an Instagram account strictly for my photos and after our road trip I’ll start posting them. I also got Simon to line up an apprenticeship, if you call it that, with me shadowing a photographer friend of his who’s pretty popular in New York. It’s two weeks to start; that I can commit to because by then I’ll know if my stuff is shit or not.
“Happy’s not the word. I’m about to show you how much,” I promise her. She bites her lip but walks away from me, sauntering to the kitchen. I follow her, my eyes on every inch of her body.
I set down my bag and reach for her, pulling her to me, my fingers moving under her shirt and in between her thighs.
“No underwear?” I ask, my head tilted to the side.
“It’s not a problem is it?” she asks with a teasing grin.
“Big problem,” I tell her, bringing her hand to my dick.
She bites her lip. “I should fix that then huh?” she purrs, guiding me over to the kitchen chair. She pulls my dick out of the zipper, pushes my shoulder for me to sit down, and a second later takes me inside her mouth. I’m in heaven. The vibrations of her moans, the expertise of her fucking tongue, seeing her fingers play between her thighs all have me coming in minutes. I let out a groan as I spill into her mouth and the way she swallows every bit while her eyes meet mine is the biggest fucking turn on imaginable. When she’s finished she looks up at me with a satisfied grin, straddles me, and begins sucking my neck. I lift her up in one swoop and lie her on the table and spread her thighs. She made me come in less than ten minutes—I’ll make her come in five. I dive into her, my tongue thrusting, my lips sucking and assaulting her clit. She’s panting, clawing at my shirt, moaning, her legs already starting to tremble.
“Ian, Oh my God. I-I’m about to come!” I go faster, feeling on the edge of her climax, and send her over the cliff when I thrust my dick inside her, which is already as hard as a rock. She shrieks with a moan so loud our neighbors probably hear. I pound into her, the table squeaking beneath us. She’s so fucking wet.
“This is mine,” I tell her, moving deeper and starting to go slower.
“All yours baby,” she answers back compliantly. She clenches around me, and the table feels like it’s about to break. Her nails claw into my back and I pin her hands over her head. I love this woman so fucking much. Her whimpers in my ear are addicting, the marks on my back are a prize. I love her, and I can’t stop the words about to come out of my mouth.
“Have my baby.”
“Ian!” her voice hitches as an orgasm rocks through her body, and I come right after her. She’s still panting and my body is trying to recover. I lift myself off of her. She sits up, still in an orgasmic haze. She looks at me, her eyes steeled.
“What did you say?” she asks. I’m unsure if she’s excited or bewildered. I think about my words before I say them again. I imagine her carrying our child inside of her, skin glowing beautiful. With our baby in her arms. A literal expression of our love. I’m twenty-seven and we’re not in the ideal place financially but in a year or so yes, I want my wife to carry our child.
“I-I want to grow a family with you,” I tell her, my smile spreading as I get more used to the idea. I search her expression and she looks completely confused, as if I’ve just said the most ridiculous thing possible.
“I didn’t mean today.” I nudge her with a half chuckle. Her eyes dart to me, narrowing in before going to her lap again. She looks like she’s seen a fucking ghost, as if we’ve never talked about this. We’ve talked about everything, and we both said we’d have a stable of kids. Well, I said a stable of them. She said two boys and a girl that she’d spoil to pieces, but kick their asses if they were rotten.
“Babe,” I say, and she looks up, her face blank and her eyes looking past me, and when she does look at me I see what I can only describe as fear.
“Yeah. Uhm, can we go to dinner? I want to get out the house.” She lifts herself off the table.
“Okay,” I tell her, surprised by her response. She’s off the table and in the bathroom before I can get my thoughts together.