We’ve been married for six months now. I asked her to marry me the morning after we met. I gave her my mom’s engagement ring. We have been inseparable ever since. She wanted a small wedding at the local country club which suited me just fine. She was barefoot and pregnant, but she was a stunner in her short, lacy wedding dress. I couldn’t wait to peel it off of her and worship her all night long. She’s so responsive to my touch. I always feel like a god when I’m buried deep inside of her.
Tonight, our son, Mick, named after the lead singer for Foreigner, is with his uncles and grandparents because we watched Howie and Tristan last night so Rudy and Flora could go out for their anniversary. It’s a nice trade-off really. We moved from my little bungalow to a four-bedroom house in the same neighborhood as her parents. It’s nice that they are so close, but we have our own space.
“Take my cock, wife,” I demand as I thrust in and out of her, over and over.
“I am, husband. I am.” Her little pussy is like a drug. One hit and I was addicted. Her inner muscles squeeze me, and I swear I am about to lose control and I’ve barely gotten inside of her. Pulling out of her, I move her legs from where they are wrapped around my waist to straight up in the air and plunge back into her. The angle is different this way. Deeper. I watch as my dick slides in out of her little hole. I have to look away because it’s too much. Too hot.
“I love you, sugar,” I growl as we fuck. Fuck can mean sex in any number of ways, but when she and I are together it’s magic and doesn’t matter what we call it. Making love, fucking, having sex, it’s all magical.
“I love you too,” she moans.
Her screams as she comes fills the room and I can’t hold back any longer. I fill her with my seed. I pull out of her and place her legs gently back on the bed. Moving beside her, I kiss her. She went back to the bookstore just long enough to meet with the district manager, but she didn’t work after that. Not there anyway. We did arrest the robber, but he only spent six months in the parish jail because his lawyer got him a good deal.
Looking back at our life together so far, I think about our song, I Want To Know What Love Is, and realize that I didn’t just meet the girl of my dreams, or my wife, or the mother of my children a year ago. I still don’t know how I got so lucky when I met the other half of my soul and changed my lonely life. The future has never been so clear, and I can’t wait to see what it has in store for us.
Jodi
Thirty-Three Years Later
Thirty-four years together. Five kids. Eleven grandchildren. One great-grandchild. I loved the eighties, but man my style is so much simpler today than it ever was back then. Looking back at pictures, I wonder what I was thinking in some of them. On our first Christmas together, I looked like I was going to a Jazzercise class with an ugly Snoopy sweater on. Crazy really. I do miss the hair though. I had some amazingly teased hair back then. Then I Farrah Fawcetted it and it looked even better. Currently, I’m trying to bring that back into style, but so far it’s just me.
Life wasn’t always easy, but it was infinitely better because of him. I love him more now than I ever thought possible. He’s my rock. When he retired from the police force last year, we didn’t know what we were going to do, but now we are traveling the country in an RV this year before heading to Europe next year. I always wanted to see the world, but I put that on hold when we started having kids. Not that that was a hardship. Being a mother is the best, most thankless job I could have ever asked for.
We are somewhere near Seattle Washington right now. We pulled over at an RV park for the night. I just crawled into bed after a hot shower. Paul reaches over and squeezes my bare ass, making me smile. Pajamas are highly overrated. Since the kids have been out of the house, I forgo them whenever I can. I love that he still wants me after all these years. Hell, he still needs me at least once a day.
“Hey, sugar. Where have you been all my life?” he says, and I giggle. I love that he can still make me giggle like a teenager. The man has only gotten hotter with age. His silver fox good looks turn heads wherever we go, but sorry ladies this one’s mine.