Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 68(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 68(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
We’ve hired an overnight babysitter for the kids since my parents as well as my sister and her man will all be attending the ball. Two of our three children are terrible toddlers at the same time. The youngest is only five months old. It can be a bit overwhelming for us at times, but we are managing just fine.
With Eleanor manning the shop several days a week and I working with Bash, daycare has been our biggest ally. Bash and I started a year-round baseball camp working with talented kids. We don’t care whether their parents can afford it or not. If they want to work with us, then they do. They do have to try out and get to New Orleans though. We help with the rest.
When we are not working, we spend the day with the girls. Family Fun Days are the greatest. They are full of giggles and hugs, maybe a few tears if the girls annoy each other.
“I am almost done, Beau. I promise, just me five more minutes. No need to hover,” she says, putting her new pearl earrings on. She is standing in her turquoise lacey bra and panties and I want to say fuck the ball and spend the kid-free night buried inside my wife, but I know that we can’t do that. My cock is at full attention for her as per usual, it’s straining against my zipper.
“I am not hovering, chérie,” I say coming up behind her, dropping a kiss on her bare shoulder.
“What are you doing Beau Melançon? We don’t have time for this,” she protests weakly. I know my wife. I know she needs me just as much as I need her.
“There is always time for this,” I argue. “Je veux te baiser.” I want to fuck her. Right now.
“No, really, Beau. We’ll be late.” She moans as I place a kiss under her ear lobe. She loves when I kiss her there. Well, anywhere really, but her neck is the most sensitive.
“Fuckably late,” I murmur, causing goosebumps to rise up on her skin. Her head drops back onto my shoulder when I grind my cock into her ass. Even though I can reach out and touch it whenever I want to, I dream about this ass. “I love you, Eleanor,” I whisper, squeezing her ass.
“I love you too,” she moans.
“Damn right,” I grunt, still squeezing.
“Shit. Hurry babe. Please, embrasse-moi,” she begs, changing her tune. Turning her to face me roughly, I kiss her just like she asked me to. Thoroughly messing up her lipstick. Being mindful of her hair, which I know took a hairdresser hours to do this morning, I grasp her neck instead.
“Fuck. You are so goddamned beautiful, and you are all fucking mine,” I growl, all but pushing her down on the leather high backed bench at the foot of our bed. She spreads her legs open for me, like a good girl. She knows what I want.
“I know, baby. I know. J’ai envie de toi,” she mewls, telling me she needs me while opening my belt and pulling my cock out. She runs her brightly colored nails over my shaft, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body. Pushing her panties to the side, I grip my dick and drag it through her wetness before slamming into her.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I groan. “How the hell are you still so tight?”
“Kegel exercises and I am convinced taking your massive cock does some kind of internal exercises too,” she says laughing but that turns into a long moan.
“Fuck me, husband,” she demands.
“I am, wife. I am.”
I fuck into her until she comes hard my cock, then I fill her with my seed. I lay on top of her for a few minutes before she pushes me away. Stealing a kiss, I pull my still hard cock out and tuck it back into my pants.
“I gotta finish getting ready,” she says standing up, adjusting her panties.
I put my tuxedo jacket on and grab my mask. Her krewe’s ball is a masquerade this year. When I turn back around, she is zipping the side zipper of her dark turquoise dress up. Next, she steps into some extraordinarily high heels.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her, mesmerized by her.
“Thank you, handsome,” she says reaching up and adjusting my bow tie. From the bed, she grabs her clutch and peacock mask from the bed. “Ready?”
“Yep. Let’s go,” she says, and we head out.
At the ball, we dance and mingle until it’s time to head out to my krewe ball.
“A glass of champagne before we go?” I ask, grabbing two glasses from a waiter.
“I can’t,” she says, her eyes going wide.
“What do you mean you can’t?” I ask. I know that we’ve never done anything to prevent pregnancy, but our youngest is only five months old.