Troubles and Treats (16 page)

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Authors: Tara Sivec

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Suspense, #Contemporary

BOOK: Troubles and Treats
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I stand there watching him walk away and wonder if I’ve lost my fucking mind for even
thinking about taking him up on his offer again.  I haven’t felt this good or well-rested
in years.

Chapter 1
8
– Vanilla Sex

 

Date night!  Mother fucking date night!  I’m so excited I almost pissed myself.  Just
kidding, I totally really did piss myself.  Just a little. It’s all good.  I've drank
a lot of Pepsi this afternoon.

Jenny has been in the best mood ever this week, and I know it’s because she’s looking
forward to this night as much as I am.  I've just dropped the kids off with Carter
and Claire with strict instructions not to call us unless one of the kids is bleeding
from the eyes.  And only if it’s a lot of blood, like, “Oh my God, so much blood!” 
If you’re just like, “Eh, some drops of blood from the eyes, nothing to get your panties
in a bunch about,”’ don’t call me.  I’ve already hidden Jenny’s cell phone in my pants
so she has no choice but to give the meat whistle a little rub if she wants to check
on the kids.

I've left Jenny at home to finish getting ready and because I know if she goes with
me to drop the kids off, it would have taken at least an hour of her kissing them
over and over and apologizing for leaving them and then kissing them both ten more
times before we could even walk out the door.  At least she doesn’t make too much
of a scene when I leave our house with them.  As soon as I see her eyes start to fill
with tears, I do the whole, “Oooh look, a butterfly!” and then turn and run.  I would
have made it to the car too if Veronica wasn’t so slow.  I need to practice some wind
sprints with that kid for situations like this.

I get back home and pull into the driveway, and when I get out of the car, the new
guy who moved in across the street is taking his garbage out and lifts his hand in
a wave.  I wave back and wonder if the dude even owns a shirt.  Every time I’ve seen
him outside since he's moved in, he’s been half naked.  It’s a disgrace to the neighborhood. 
Especially since everyone on this street knows
I’m
the one who looks the best doing yard work without a shirt.  Some people just don’t
know their place.

Walking through the front door, I check myself in the mirror in the front hall.

Damn, I look good.  Screw naked guy outside. I’ve got it going on.

I straighten my hair and smooth the front of my date night shirt that says: I fuck
on the first date.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jenny in the mirror and turn
around, my eyes bugging out of my head.  She’s wearing a short, red strapless dress
with her hair piled up on top of her head, and a pair of red, strappy sandals that
are so high I’m surprised she can walk in them.  She looks so hot I can already feel
myself getting a chubby.

“Holy fuck, baby.  You look awesome,” I tell her as she walks up to me and smiles.

“Thanks.  I haven’t fit into this since before Veronica was born.”

She grabs her purse and we head out the door, my eyes never leaving her ass.

I am so getting lucky tonight.

 

~

 

“Oh my gosh, remember that time you went down on me during my cousin’s wedding?” Jenny
asks as she finishes off her fourth glass of wine and leans closer to me so our shoulders
are touching.

After her second glass of wine, she starts getting chatty, just like old times.  Whenever
we used to go out before we had Billy, we would always wind up talking about our sex
life.  We had an amazing sex life.  I used to think about Jenny and I doing some sort
of seminar for loser married couples who only have sex to get pregnant.  I had always
thought we would be the best people to teach others about how much fun you could have
in the bedroom.  We could use props and I could make a flow chart.  Listening to her
talk about our fun times makes me realize how UN-fun our times have been lately. 
Hopefully not for much longer.

“Oh my gosh, remember that night we played Monopoly and every time someone landed
on Park Place one of us had to have an orgasm?” she asks as she puts her hand on the
back of my neck and runs her fingers through my hair.

“That was the best game of Monopoly ever.  Didn’t we have to throw the board away
because we got ketchup and hot wax all over it?” I ask her, trying not to pant like
a dog as her nails lightly scratch the back of my neck.

“Yep.  And we had to use nail polish remover to get the play money off of your ass
when we played ‘Pin the money on Drew’ with the wax.  Best night ever,” she whispers
in my ear.

The hard on I’ve had since she had walked out of the bedroom in the red dress is now
a full blown state of emergency.  One more story about our past sexcapades and I’m
going to need to shut this restaurant down, and the waiters will need to put on Hazmat
suits.

“What about that time when we first moved in together at your old place when the neighbors
used to sell honey at a road side stand in their front yard?” she asks softly close
to my ear.

I’m going to come in my pants in three seconds.

I clear my throat and shift in my seat, trying to move Big Drew around a little so
I’m not so uncomfortable.

“Ha, they formed a neighborhood watch because they thought there was some huge conspiracy
where people were stealing honey to sell it on the black market,” I remember with
a laugh.

“I never understood that.  Why would they think only black people want honey?” she
asks in confusion.

I don’t even think about correcting her because I don’t want anything to ruin this
good mood she’s in.

“I wonder how many bottles of honey we actually stole that month.  It had to be close
to a hundred.”

She smiles and nods, placing a soft kiss on my cheek before pulling back to continue
with the memory.

“That last night was a fun night until we spent a little too long on foreplay and
the honey started to dry and get sticky.  It was like giving you a Brazilian wax to
get that stuff off!”

We both laugh and move a little bit away from each other as the waiter comes to our
table and steps in between us to place the check on the table.

“I still have that scar on my ass from when you had to help pull me off of the tree. 
I don’t care though.  That was the best blow job ever.  Well, aside from the shower
one on our first date.”

We sit there quietly for a few minutes staring into each other’s eyes, and I am trying
to force all of my thoughts into her head.

You want to bang me, you want to bang me, you want to bang me.

“I want to bang you,” she states.

My brain is an awesome and powerful thing.

I throw all of the money in my wallet down on the table without even looking at the
bill.  I’m pretty sure I just gave our waiter a seventy percent tip, but I don’t give
a fuck.  I grab Jenny’s hand and together we run to the exit and out into the parking
lot.

 

 

~

 

In hindsight, trying to have sex in our four-door, compact car in our own driveway
probably isn't the best idea.  But after Jenny spends the fifteen minute drive from
the restaurant back to our house with her hand down my pants, rubbing me one second
away from orgasm, I can’t even think about opening the car doors and going inside. 
I turn off the engine, hit the button to move my seat back as far as it will go, grab
Jenny around the waist, and haul her over the center console and onto my lap.

With her legs straddling me, I slide my hands up her thighs and push her dress up
to her hips, realizing she isn’t wearing any underwear.

“You’re wearing my favorite clear pair of panties,” I tell her as I slide my hands
around her hips and onto her bare ass.

“I wore them just for you,” she says with a smile as she leans forward and runs her
tongue along my top lip.

I reach between us to unbutton my pants, freeing my dick and feeling quite proud of
myself that I too chose to go commando this evening.

With one hand still clutching her ass, I pull her down so I can rub the head of my
cock against her.  She’s wet and warm and even though she hasn’t shaved down there
since before Billy was born, I don’t give a fuck.  I love her pussy whether it’s smooth
or has a porn bush fro.  As I use my hand to glide myself back and forth through her,
she starts to move her hips to create more friction, and we both moan against each
other’s mouths.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby.  I wanna fuck you like an animal.”

She stops the movement of her hips and pulls her face away from mine.

“Don’t quote Nine Inch Nails when we’re about to have sex.  It’s creepy.  I don’t
want to think about animals having sex.  Remember that time we saw my cousin’s dogs
having sex?  Oh my God, I had nightmares for weeks.  I kept dreaming we would have
sex and your penis would be stuck inside me until you finish like those stupid dogs,”
Jenny complains.

“Sorry, no more animals fucking talk.  Let’s just talk about us fucking.  Right now. 
In the car,” I tell her as I move the head of my penis to her opening and push my
hips up slightly so I enter her just a little bit.

“Son of Al Sharpton,” I moan as she pushes her body down a little more and I go deeper.

Jenny doesn’t hesitate to slide the rest of the way down on my cock, and I have to
squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t blow my load right this second.

She grips onto my hair and yanks me towards her mouth.

“You’re such a dirty whore,” I mutter against her lips.

She stops and pulls back to look at me again.  “Eew, don’t say that.”

I look at her in confusion for a minute.  She’s always thought that was hot.  In the
past, she usually begs me to call her a dirty whore.  I want my dirty whore!

“It’s just weird.  I’m a mom now,” she explains.

“You were a mom the last time I called you a dirty whore,” I complain with a pout.

I know, I know.  My penis is finally home and I’m complaining.  But you don’t understand! 
This is our thing!  She’s my dirty whore and I’m her big, bad slut.

“Just…I don’t know, do it normal.  Call me Jenny and I’ll call you Drew.”

Normal?  What the fuck is normal?!

“What?  But that doesn’t even make sense!  We’re not normal.  We’re dirty and filthy,
and I don’t know what is going on right now!”

I think my penis is dying.  I’m inside my wife’s vagina and I’m starting to go soft. 
No, no, no!  This is NOT happening right now!

“Can’t we just have vanilla sex?” she asks as she leans back from me as far as she
can while I’m still inside of her.

“Vanilla is white!  WE’RE NOT WHITE!  We’re…fuck!  We’re Napoleon or whatever the
fuck the three colored one is.  We’re fucking Superman or the chocolate kind with
peanut butter in it.  I don’t even know what vanilla means!  WHAT DOES IT MEAN?”

I know I’m yelling while my wife is on top of me, naked from the waist down but this
is a complete and utter mind fuck right now.

“You’re not hard anymore,” she tells me as she looks down where we’re still, sort
of, joined.

GAAAAAH I’m not listening!  I’m not listening!  I’m always hard!  I’m hard when I’m
grocery shopping in the frozen food section.  Son of a motherless goat!

“Quick, call me a slut.  HURRY!” I yell.

“I’m not calling you a slut.  This was a bad idea,” she says as she lifts herself
off of my wilted willy and crawls over to her side of the car, pulling her dress down
as she goes.

NOOOOOOOO
bring it back
!

Jenny opens her car door and gets out, and I stare down at
my
limp dick in disgust.

“You are a disgrace to all of penis kind. That’s what you are.  You couldn’t just
keep it up for like five more minutes.  Oh no, you had to be a quitter.  QUITTERS
NEVER WIN!”

I angrily shove my dick back in my pants and get out of the car and come face-to-face
with Mr. Naked Guy from across the street.

“Hey there, buddy!  I saw you guys pull in and I just wanted to make sure everything
was okay.  My name’s Jackson,” he says with a smile as he sticks his hand out for
me to shake.

The only good thing about this moment right now is the knowledge that the hand I’m
touching this douchebag with is the one that was just on my dick.

“Hey, Jackson!  How were those Snickerdoodles yesterday?” Jenny asks him as she comes
around to my side of the car.

Who the what?  Snickerdoodles?

“Oh my God, those were the best cookies I’ve ever had.  Seriously, Jenny.  You can
bake a mean cookie,” Fuckson tells her with a big smile.

I know his name is Jackson.  Shut up.  Bitch ate my Snickerdoodles.  He’s Fuckson
from now on.

“Well, my girlfriend owns a bakery so I get all the inside tips,” she says with a
giggle.

A FUCKING GIGGLE.

“Oh, before I forget, tell Veronica my niece left Barbie’s giant Malibu house at my
place the other day, so I’ll bring it over on Wednesday for our play date.”

The fuck you say!

“Oh my God, she will absolutely freak out!” Jenny tells him.

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