A Fragile Wife(7)

By: Cynthia Dane

“Nobody gets me harder, Bunny.”

Ken pushed his chair back, the wheels creating a groove in the carpeted mat beneath him. So that’s how it is? He was going to take full advantage of her behavior right now. Lana knew she had no choice but to kneel between his legs and make him feel like the king of his castle.

They were a “split down the middle” kind of couple. Sex and gender aside, they strived for true equality. They took turns paying. They took turns driving – although Lana didn’t care much for driving and would rather take a driver or let her husband have the wheel. They paid equal shares of their stocks and properties. Even this mansion they called home for the past seven years was half and half.

And yet, Ken could become incredibly alpha when Lana even so much as suggested serving him.

He’s still a man at the end of the day. He wanted his wife on her knees and sucking him off. He wanted her spreading her legs for him. He wanted her begging for his virility. Every so often? Lana wanted to feel that too. Like she was a tool. A possession. A means to her husband’s orgasmic end.

She didn’t fully enter that space until she sucked on the tip of his cock, her hand stroking his hard, erect shaft as Ken continued to smoke above her.

“Fuck, Bunny.” Ken closed his eyes, let his head roll back against his chair, and took languid drags of his cigarette. That’s right. This is your moment, baby. Her hardworking husband deserved to have his wife giving him pleasure at the end of a hard day. What had Lana done? Get drunk on the floor of her office and imagine her husband tail-chasing their nubile maid. Hardly productive.

She had also called her lawyer – all right, her cousin – and demanded he help her get a divorce. Again. The Lana who currently served her alpha husband felt a crimson-colored shamed. How could she want to give up moments like these?

No, it wasn’t about giving them up. It was never about being tired or bored with Ken in the bedroom. That was impossible. The man was more adventurous than her. He’s the one who asked me to peg him all those years ago.

No, all the thoughts of divorce were about something else entirely.

“Eat my cock, baby,” Ken muttered on his cigarette. “I wanna feel it all the way down your throat.”

Lana braced her hands on his spread legs, running her tongue up and down his shaft as her throat wetted and the rest of her mouth salivated for him. People say I have such a big mouth. They said that figuratively. Lana Andrews was infamous in every social circle for speaking her mind and making friends and enemies in the aftermath. In reality, she had a tiny mouth. When she was a kid, she had to have extensive dental work done to make sure there was enough room for all the adult teeth she kept cramming in there. Doctors expressed concern that she would choke on her own tongue one day. While her mouth did grow as she got older, it was still relatively small.

So when her husband told her to swallow his cock, she had to be careful.

Like I’m not going to do it. How could she say no to a command like that? How could she turn away from the very thing offering to make her feel connected to her husband again? Not like I don’t know how to do this. Deep breath, relax the gag, and slowly slide Ken’s cock all the way down her throat.

He was a patient man. He knew how to lie back, have his smoke, and let his wife take care of the rest. She was there to serve him, after all. He needn’t do a thing.

Lana lowered her lips to his base, feeling his whole length fill her mouth, her throat. His head threatened her gag, but it almost never won. Not after this long together. Before she met her husband, Lana always had issues giving men head. They were too eager, choking her. Or they were way too big, hurting her jaw and again, choking her. Or, the pettiest thing of all, they complained about the placement of her teeth. As if she would bite them! On accident, anyway.

Ken was one of the first men she could enjoy this side of oral sex with. He didn’t fuck her throat without fair warning. And he fit! Bless this man’s perfect biology. Truly as if he were made for her enjoyment.

“Look at me, Lana.”

She glanced up, throat easing off him before taking his length again. Ken withheld a groan, but she felt him shudder. She also saw his eyes glaze over as he smoked his cigarette and watched her devour him. Her fingers stroked his sack until her index finger and thumb attempted to circle around his base and squeeze.

“I’m glad to see you behaving so well tonight,” Ken continued, one hand lowering to pet the top of her head. Wet blond hair fell to the side of Lana’s face. “You’ve been behaving strangely lately. What’s all this talk about divorce? Don’t you love me anymore?”