Chapter One
I held my breath and checked my watch. Ten minutes exactly, and the test band was way darker than the guide band.
Yes!
The time was right.
I adjusted my boobs, fit them into the tiny straps of lace, and then checked my ass in the mirror. A quick little slap to bring some color to my lower cheeks and I was ready for Christian.
Stepping outside my comfort zone, I slipped my feet into my highest fuck-me heels and tapped through the bedroom feeling the heat collect between my thighs as the chain around my waist jingled my arrival. I was so damn horny, that I would have had to go it alone if the test hadn’t said it was LH Surge time.
It had been nine days since the last time we’d made love. All the books said that doing it too often reduced the sperm’s ability to reach the egg and successfully fertilize the little sucker. I wasn’t willing to risk it. We needed super-sperm, and we needed it now.
Don’t get me wrong, Christian was willing to look after my needs, but the guilt in the one way action was eating me up. And besides, the last time we tried that, I couldn’t stop myself with just a little taste of him. I ended up pinning him down, straddling his face, and feasting on his heavenly cock till we were both spent.
Just the thought of his lips on me made my pussy ache and my clit throb. I missed him terribly, and I was so happy the time was right.
“Christian, honey, please come?” I called, perched on the sea of pillows I’d placed on the bed before taking my shower. Amused with the double meaning of my question, I smiled and wet my lips. Please come, haha .
“Give me a sec. It’s fourth and five.”
Damn, he was still watching the game. What did he want from me in order to get off the couch and meet me in the bedroom for a bit of our own sexcersise ?
Truly, I was trying to add zest to our sex life as he’d suggested. But at the moment, I was all done up and ready to fuck his brains out, so I felt like a wanton woman, rejected by the man she loved and needed when he continued watching the game. I struggled to put my pride aside, struggled to concentrate on the big picture. We needed to have sex tonight in order to take our relationship to the next level. And if that meant I needed to shed my inner prude, I would.
I waited, shifted a little to the right so that my left breast spilled to the side. I played with my exposed nipple, preparing for a night of pure delight. In truth, I expected him to stroll in, totally unsuspecting, and pop a boner so freaking stiff at the sight of me playing with myself. It always turned him on to watch.
Time passed and I tried to get in the mood on my own, but self-stimulation wasn’t cutting it. I wanted Christian on a much grander scale than what he’d accused me of. I missed him, too. I needed him more, and I’d prove to him how much.
“Come on, honey. I want to show you something.” And I did. I never lied. I had spent the afternoon with an artist-extraordinaire tattooing a henna Super Spermy, with Popeye-sized biceps and a Superman cape, wagging his little tail in a swim for his life above the dimple on my lower back. Christian always rubbed his thumb on that dimple when he entered me from behind, telling me how much he loved it.
From behind was good. It shot semen quicker and stronger to the goal. Maybe I’d ride him the second time around?
“Is everything okay?” Christian asked— his ass obviously still plastered to the couch.
“Yes.” I sighed and twisted my hair in a wicked spiral around my finger. “Hurry up. I really want to show you something.”
“Then bring it in here,” he said. “There’s only a few minutes left, but we’re down by six. We’re going to force a fumble now and run it down the field. We’re so pumped. We’re going to win this one.”
Stupid, stupid football. Why had I ever agreed to the new television set, which took up half our living room?
I let out a long breath and got
Tim Lahaye 7 Jerry B. Jenkins