Love (Uncivilized 1.5)

"Meaning we have other things to do?" I guess with a sassy tilt to my head.

"I'm hard as a rock for you. We can talk more after we take care of that."

"Want me to finish sucking you off?" I coyly ask him as my hand drops down and wraps around his erection.

Zach's hand comes to rest against mine, his fingers curling around my own as I fist his cock. He forces me to stroke him up and down a few times, but then surprises me when he shakes his head and releases his grasp. He stands up and pulls me along with him. "No, I think tonight I want to fuck my wife all nice and slow. I believe we call it making love, right?"

"Oooh, a romantic," I say as I bat my eyelashes at him.

He grins and sweeps me up in his arms. In three strides, he's back to the bed where he's lowering me to the mattress. His body covers mine, and he kisses me deeply... sweetly. When he pulls away, he rubs his nose along mine and whispers, "I'm really sorry about tonight."

"Me too," I whisper back.

Then my husband proceeds to make love to me... very nice and slow.

Chapter 4

Zach

It's amazing that some really phenomenal sex last night reset everything, and that's a testament to the insane chemistry that exists between Moira and me. An amazing chemical attraction that has me waking up naturally before the kids, my cock half hard, and my fingers immediately going between my wife's legs.

Fuck, it's been so long since I've taken the time to wake her up this way. Back when I first came to the modern world eight and a half years ago, I didn't know shit about what sex was really all about. In my tribe, the man was the dominant. When he felt like fucking, he put the woman on her knees, in the dirt, often in front of the entire tribe, and he got his rocks off. I never even knew women could orgasm like a man could until I watched Moira pleasure herself one night as we made our way out of the jungle. A few weeks later, after an intense computer pornography session where I learned a great deal, including words like fuck, cock, blowjob and pussy, I realized there were all kinds of ways a man and a woman could enjoy sex together.

After I fucked Moira for the very first time, which said first time had to be with my hand at the back of her neck and her knees pressed hard into the carpet, I rolled her over and ate her out. It was then that I realized the power I possessed in not just my cock, but in my tongue and fingers as well. Thereafter, I often woke up before Moira, and my first order of business was to see how fast I could get her wet with just my fingers. Sometimes, I could make her come in her sleep, but most often, she would wake up, spread her legs, and invite me in. Tongue or mouth, it didn't matter to her.

Or me.

Seems so long ago.

Moira moans in her sleep as my fingers swipe through her folds, which become slicker with desire the more I play. Her breathing hitches and her lower body starts to squirm. The minute she cracks her eyes open and gives me that happy-sleepy-please-fuck-me-smile that I love so much, I roll over, spread her legs wide, and sink in.

A starved sound bubbles out of my throat, and I think, Why the fuck are we not doing this every single morning of our lives?

"Feels good," she pants as I start to move faster within her. Although I very much enjoy fucking my wife this morning, I know the kids could wake up at any moment so I need to get this done for both of us.

My hand slides down in between our bodies, and I rub at her clit as I thrust harder. "Want you to come for me, baby."

"Not going to be long," she moans as her hips gyrate in sweet synchronicity.

Yeah, for me either, so I urge her with some dirty talk. "You know what I'm dying to do?" I huff out with strained breath as I pound harder.

She grunts in question.

"Been too long since I had your ass."

And yeah... just saying that out loud starts tingling prickles in my balls. It's been so long and that's because we never seem to have time for slow foreplay, and the one thing I never fail to give Moira is the needed preparation her ass has to have to take my cock. The thought of me rolling her over and sinking into that tight, hot--

"Fuck Moira," I gasp as I plunge in deep and squeeze my eyes shut as I start to come. As if by divine connection, her body trembles hard as her orgasm crashes through her at the same time. I can almost feel the tiny pulses of it as my fingers still glide along her clit while I fill my wife up.

Groaning, I drop down onto her body, pressing lips to her shoulder. Her hands come up around my neck, fingers going into my hair to stroke my scalp.

"Well, good morning, Mr. Easton," she murmurs.

"Good morning," I mumble with my lips still against her skin.

And on cue, Jaime starts to cry from her crib down the hall.

I hand Moira her coffee as she walks into the kitchen. She has on a terrycloth robe, her fiery red hair bunched up in a messy knot on top of her head, and a red flush still on her neck from the orgasm I just gave her. She accepts the cup, goes on tiptoe to kiss my jaw, and then heads to the kitchen table where Cannon is in his booster seat and Jaime's high chair is pulled up beside him. Since I had sort of a late start this morning--not complaining by any means--I went with a super-fast breakfast of bananas and milk for them both. I know Moira will give them something more substantial later.

Moira bends down to kiss the top of Jaime's head, and then Cannon's, before turning back to me. Her eyes are sparkling, and I think that is further reason I should give my wife at least one orgasm every morning.

She takes a sip of coffee, moans, and then smiles at me. "Good coffee."

"Well deserved after good sex," I say with a return grin.

"Great sex."

"The best," I agree, but then my smile slides a bit. "We okay?"

Moira gets a knowing look in her eye and prepares to handle me. While I may be the badass, Tarzan-like warrior who emerged from the jungle and can conquer the world, when it boils down to it, Moira has always been the strongest of the two of us when it comes to our relationship. She's understood intimacy, trust, loyalty, and love far longer than I have. She knows that even after more than eight years of loving her, I still have my insecurities.

She walks up to me, her gorgeous hips swaying sexily, and stops just a few feet away. Leaning casually against the edge of the counter, she levels me with a penetrating stare. "I'm sure we will be."

"I really am sorry for screwing dinner up last night--"

She cuts me off. "I know. I knew it the minute your hand rested on my chest last night."

Sighing, I run my fingers through my hair. "When did our lives get so hectic?"

"It's your fault," she says with a small laugh, followed by a quick sip of coffee. "The minute your sperm punched through my egg, it got hectic. But I suspect this happens a lot to marriage when kids and life get in the way."

"So what do we do about it?"

Pursing her lips in thought, she tilts her head and gives a tiny shrug. "Do the best we can, I suppose. Talk more. Don't let things fester."

"Would it be totally cliche as a man to say 'more sex'?" I ask her in total seriousness.

She nods in affirmation. "Totally cliche, but I'm also in total agreement."

Reaching out, I take her cup from her hands. Setting it on the counter, I pull her into my arms. I enjoy the few blissful moments of peace that we have right now while the kids happily eat their breakfast bananas and my warm and freshly fucked wife cuddles into me.

"I love you," she says.

"I love you."

After a moment, I kiss her on the head and pull back. "I need your advice on something."

She turns, grabs her coffee, and leans back against the counter. "Shoot."

"Well... I think something weird is going on with Lila," I hesitantly say.

No hesitance in laying this out to Moira--she'll help me deal--but more so that maybe I imagined something that wasn't there. I don't want to cause Moira to doubt what may be just a very good secretary who I misinterpreted something from.

"Like what?" she asks with a cute-as-hell head tilt.

"I don't know," I hem, but before I can haw, I continue on. "Well... she's just... her clothes are different and her hair. Yesterday, she arched her back at me and seemed offended when I told her to submit in overtime hours..."

And then, I fall flat. I'm not conveying it right, and Moira knows it. She gives me a small, encouraging smile. "Back up. Slow down. Start from the beginning."

So I do.