“There’s no time, Brad. Fuck me now!”
My cock is steel hard again as I slam into her. I groan at the different sensations of having my cock buried in Mila’s pussy. Just a few minutes ago, I was in her mouth. I grab onto her hips to keep her in place as my balls bang into her clit.
Her pussy clenches tightly around my cock as I pound my cock into her. Sweet moaning sounds come from Mila. I gaze on the jiggle of her curvy ass every time my cock drives into her. Mila pants and looks at me over her shoulder. Her eyes are glazed, and her mouth half-open.
“I’m going to come,” she says.
“Come, sweetheart. Come for me.”
“Fuck yes,” Mila cries as an orgasm rips through her.
I keep thrusting as she’s coming, and only then do I allow myself to spew my seed inside her.
***
I imagine that the rest of the day will be easy after such a glorious morning. Life sure doesn’t work like that. It turned out to be one of those heart-wrenching days at the station. We were called to a highway to rescue a family of six involved in a grisly accident.
I tell Mila about it in the evening as we’re relaxing on the couch. She gets to her feet as I’m talking and stands behind me to massage my stiff shoulders.
“You can never get used to the loss of life,” I tell her. “Seeing those children lying there…
“So sorry, my love,” Mila says. “What were their ages?”
I tell her and confess that I had shed tears as I did my work.
“That’s the kind of person you are. So strong and soft inside,” Mila says. “Only a person like you can do the work you do and still manage to offer comfort.”
Mila says all the right things. Her words wash over me, soothing and healing my hurting soul. She says the rest with her hands, softly massaging my tension away. We talk easily, telling each other bits about our day.
“Did you get a lot of work done?” I ask Mila.
“Yes, I’m almost done with a portrait,” she says.
My interest is peaked. “Of who?”
“No, that is a surprise,” she says.
Mom chooses that moment to walk in. She carries a small plate. A delicious smell accompanies her.
“Thought you might like a little taste of my chicken before dinner,” she says.
Mila leaves her position. “Yes, please. It smells so good.”
Mom grins as she hands a paper towel to Mila and then one to me. I feel a lot more relaxed than when I came in, and it’s all Mila’s doing. It hits me then how much I’ve always needed someone to talk to. A person I can unburden myself to, after a long day.
Brenda was not the kind of wife to sit with at the end of the day to chat. I hadn’t realized how much I had been missing. It makes a man feel good to know that he’ll spend the evening with his woman and that she’s strong enough to handle whatever he tells her.
The chicken is as tasty as it looks.
“You’re a wonderful cook, Mom,” I tell her as she waits for our verdict. “It’s delicious.”
“It is. You have to teach me how to make this,” Mila says.
A grin almost splits Mom’s face. “I will. It’s not difficult at all.”
The doorbell chimes and I jump to my feet. “I’ll get it.”
I open the door and groan inwardly when I see who the newcomer is. The court evaluator. A thousand thoughts go through my mind. She couldn’t have come at a worse time. I had hoped that she would come again after Mom left. I blink rapidly and wonder if there’s a way to get her to come back another day.
That option quickly becomes moot when she makes her way into the house.
“Good evening,” she says in a brisk voice. She clutches a file in one hand and looks around. “I take it everybody’s home?”
“Yes,” I say, misery coating my voice. I remind myself to be cheerful. “Good evening to you too.”
My muscles, which only a minute ago had been relaxed, are now tight with tension. What will my mother say to the court evaluator? I’m frightened because she is unpredictable when it comes to my personal life. I don’t trust my own mother. For all I know, she could be pretending that she’s happy with Mila only to say negative things to the court evaluator. I wish I’d had a moment to warn her about that. Too late, I think as I follow her into the living room.
Mom and Mila are talking, and Mila stands up when she sees the court evaluator. She raises an eyebrow at me, and I know she has the same fears. I try to smile to reassure her. There’s no point in worrying ourselves sick. There’s not much we can do about it now.