Devil in the Waters, Book 8, Chapter 6

Josh relaxed, sinking into the bed and focusing on what she did. Kimmy took her time, soft and slow, and so loving. So caring. It went on until he thought he couldn’t take it, and a worry began. If he came in her mouth would she be disappointed? She would have to wait for him to get hard again, and if she was horny then she needed something. He had to warn her.

“Kimmy . . . I need you.”

She liked that, her mouth drawing up the length of his cock, backhanding her shiny lips and smiling. She hiked a leg over top of him again, and straddled his hips. Only this time she was naked. And this time his cock was sticking out of his pajamas. Their sexes touched and a storm of phosphorescent fireworks went off in front of his hazy, unseeing eyes. Their connection was beautiful. It felt incredible. He dipped his butt, tilted his pelvis, and without using any hands they angled themselves perfectly for him to slip inside her. Kimmy let out a small gasp, lowered herself, cupping his neck, scratching his jawline, and kissing him. She was wet and eager. He passed into her with no restriction. No moment where they had to realign, or re-lubricate. Just right inside her, all the way, no hesitation, only liquid ease. His hands cupped her bottom, and pushed down with each stroke, his hips pushing up. With his pajama pants still on he worried he wouldn’t be deep enough inside her; that he would slip out easily. So he worked hard to get in her deeply and prevent her from humping so vigorously he popped out. He wanted the pajama pants off.

But they fucked with his PJ pants on. They fucked and he tried to push it out of his head. Kissing her, taking her tongue.

At last he gasped, “I want on top.”

Kimmy said, “I want on top,” and humped down hard. She sat back, squashed down on his cock. He tugged on the pajama pants, trying to free more shaft. The front fly of his pajamas were soaked wet from their union. Her saliva, her own lubrication. He said, “I have to get these pants off.”

Kimmy smiled, swiveling her hips. She had total control. She said, “There’s no time, Josh, I just need dick.”

He said, “Yeah, but it’s my dick. I want it all the way out.”

Kimmy said, “Why do you want all the way out?” She fell over top of him again.

This was it. Right? This was the game. Or maybe it wasn’t?

He struggled to answer, wanting to say the right thing but knowing it would be the wrong thing.

He hesitated, then said, “I guess you need every inch I’ve got right now.”

Kimmy uttered a purring appreciative sound. “I guess you’re right.”

“Kimmy doesn’t need to be shortchanged,” he said, looking in her eyes and stroking hair back from her face.

She played along. “I deserve all the inches,” she said, then giggled.

“Every single one of them.”

Now his heart absolutely pounded. This was it. It was really happening. Kimmy was playing along and they weren’t even in Grand Cayman. He thumbed down his waistband, and Kimmy eased herself up. Just when he thought his dick would fall free, she shoved herself back down hard, stabbing his cock deep inside again. The pleasure was exquisite. He moaned, his stomach tightened. Kimmy laughed, enjoying the joke.

“Oh my God,” he said, reeling, with nothing more to say.

Kimmy pulled up again, raising on her knees and elbows her face moving from his chin to his forehead, and just when his cock was about to fall out she did it again, squashed back down. Only this time she’d gone too close to the fire. It didn’t work. His dick popped out and when she squashed back it scooted between them.

She blurted out with laughter at the failure, and he hugged her. “Nice try,” he said.

“I guess I do need a longer dick.”

Any other time had she said something like that, his feelings would’ve been so hurt he would’ve had to excuse himself from the situation. But for some reason, it had been what he was waiting to hear. And this time there was no hurt. There was, but it felt so fucking good.

Josh chuckled with her, said, “It would be just fine if you weren’t monkeying around like that.”

“I’m just being playful, I can’t help it if it slipped out.”

“Because that’s my fault?”

Kimmy raised over him so they could look at each other. Her expression was amused but still tentative. He smirked, showing his feelings weren’t hurt. She sucked on her lower lip a second, then let it go. She was playing along. She wasn’t 100% in, but she was playing the game for his sake. He wouldn’t push it. It was too much of a gift, even this small slice. It would be rude to ask for more. He would have to encourage her, show her how he liked it.

“Stay there,” he said. Kimmy stayed where she was, and her smile grew. He reached between them, pushed down on his dick and tickled at her labia. She responded by shifting her hips from side to side. “Hold on,” he said again, pushed his pajama pants down, got them past his upper thighs and that was good enough. Then he thumbed forward his dick so she could sit down on it again. She sank back, taking him all the way in, and he could feel the inch-and-a-half deeper he went inside her. Kimmy felt it too, raising her eyebrows and looking at him sleepily and smiling. “Isn’t that better?”

“I guess you’re right,” she said, licking her lips, then sitting back on him, getting everything he had inside her. Not content for that to be enough, Kimmy’s hands went behind her and her nails tickled at his thighs. Her hands rested on his thighs and she walked her torso backward, stomach bowing outward, showing off her ribs and how flat her belly was. It put more pressure on their sexual union.

“Oh wow,” he said.

“Kama Sutra,” Kimmy sighed and they both chuckled. He watched her ribs press against her skin with her laughter. Stroked a hand on her stomach.

“You feel so good,” she moaned.

“And you wanted to do it with my pajama pants on,” he said.

“Turns out I like it deep.”

“I’ve always known that about you,” he said.

Kimmy slapped at his hand laying on her stomach. They both laughed. She enjoyed the pleasure longer, her hands walking back farther to grip his knees, thumbs on the inside. She was bowed uncomfortably, but she definitely liked it. No thrusting, just feeling him deep. He watched her breathe, watched her beautiful body and the angle of her neck as she looked at the ceiling. She said, “Amy said Devlin touched her stomach.”

Josh’s eyes bulged and his neck swelled. Was she really going to do this?

But now all the thought of luring his wife into this kind of talk was dashed away. All lucid reasoning was gone. It was like he’d been walking on the edge of the Grand Canyon, thinking what it would be like to climb down, or parasail, and the next thing he knew he’d stumbled and was falling. Right into the deadly danger. Panic, lust, and jealousy gushed in his mind like an out-of-control firehose, lashing this way and that. In that second there were many things that could’ve happened. He could have tossed Kimmy off him, stormed out; could’ve howled at her in a jealous rage; could have become a lusty freak and ask what Amy said about Devlin’s huge cock. Somehow he was like a fighter pilot doing seven-Gs, consciousness fading, going into a barrel, facing death and disaster but somehow finding enough oxygen in his brain to get his hands back on the stick. If he wanted to get his desires from his wife, he would have to entertain the aspect that aroused her.

Though his hand was shaking, he touched where they were connected, ran his middle finger and ring finger up from her commissure toward her navel, stopping just short of six inches and then running a small purposeful circle there. About as deep as his cock would go. He looked at the distance from his fingers to her navel and wondered if Amy really would have felt Devlin in her stomach. Where was the stomach?

Now he took just the middle finger and stroked it upward, with sinking pressure, to Kimmy’s flat stomach, coming up to her navel then saying, “Where’s your stomach?”

Kimmy chuckled, walked her hands forward, then came to a sitting position again. Her cheeks were flushed. She sucked in her stomach again, and looked down where he touched her. She pressed graceful fingers from her ribs down to her navel. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Like, here?” He pressed into her belly button.

She chuckled, said, “I don’t know. Where is your stomach?”

Josh reached to the side table but couldn’t get to his phone. Kimmy leaned forward and was able to get to the table but his dick slipped out of her. They both laughed at that. She got over top of him again, one hand angling his dick so she could sit with it inside her, the other hand bringing her phone to life. She passed it to him and said, “Find out where your stomach is.”

While he did, Kimmy slowly gyrated on his cock. On the phone, Josh looked up woman’s stomach anatomy, and went to images. “I don’t know,” he said, pretty doubtful that Devlin touched Amy’s stomach. “It’s impossible, Kimmy. Intestines, maybe, bowel. Your stomach is way up here.” He touched the edge of her ribcage.

“Whatever it was,” Kimmy said, laughing, “Amy told me it was crazy how deep it felt.”

Josh, comically surly: “What does she know?”

Kimmy laughed harder, took her phone from him and tossed it aside. It looked like all the dirty talk was over, Kimmy taking his hands again, getting a good stroking rhythm going, him with his hips held rigid and her working herself up and down on his cock that would never make a woman think he’d touched her stomach. Just a regular old cock.

He could beg for more, but this would be played as a long con. He’d have to play this out properly to get what he wanted without scaring the timid rabbit away from his trap. He chuckled again, laughing thinking of his sly wife as a timid rabbit. Kimmy could probably trick the hunter into his own trap.

“What are you laughing at?” she asked him.

“Nothing,” he said, “this is just the best way to wake up on a Sunday morning.”

“Not too bad at all,” she said, throaty, getting close to where she wanted to be.

Josh stroked his hand on the small of her back and between her butt cheeks. And went for it.

He curled his index finger, doing it boldly the way a guy like Devlin might do, pushing until he found a weakness, getting the first knuckle and half of his middle finger into her back hole. Kimmy gulped and stayed still. She whispered a shocked sound—but was not at all put off.

With his finger there, he held her steady and began to take control. Began to fuck her rather than being the rigid, immobile fuck stick, holding her pussy in place with his finger up her butt and his cock going in and out of her. She really liked it, her head turned to the side like she was doing a breaststroke, eyes closed mouth hanging open. She really liked it.

He watched her face, watched it contort but still stay in that passionate purgatory, loving the fuck out of what her husband was doing to her.

When she came his heart erupted like Rocky at the top of the stairs in Philadelphia, jumping with its hands overhead. Kimmy laughed while she orgasmed. As his finger popped out of her butt she fell to her side. “What the hell was that, Josh?”

“You tell me,” he said, smiling, dreamy, looking in her dark eyes.

“I think you’re kinkier than you even know, Josh. I think I’m pretty kinky, too. I didn’t know either.”

“Well, what are we going to do about it?”