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What kind of man did that make me when I say that my wife looks better with a shit ton of makeup on?
It was true.
She didn’t resemble the woman I had fallen for all those years ago. Or what I thought fallen had meant at the time.
But not anymore.
Not with the Botox, the lip fillers, and the nose job she just had to have. Not to mention the boob job and implants in her ass. Yes, I shit you not. Implants in her ass.
Now don’t get me wrong, I was all for women improving their bodies if it made them happy. But did any of that turn me on? Hell fucking no. It was fake. Pure and simple.
Were there any women out there that were so comfortable in their own skin that they didn’t mess with what they were given by their parents?
If I ever found a woman that was, I would kneel before her feet.
Little did I know, I would be eating my words in just a few short minutes.
After I climbed on my bike, and she climbed into her car that her daddy paid for because I refused to buy her something that flashy, we headed to the clubhouse.
And let me make this perfectly clear, she is the one that never wanted to ride on the back of my bike, not the other way around. And after the first year of being together, and practically asking her every day to go for a ride with me, I quit asking.
When we pulled into the clubhouse, I saw the confused look on her face through her car window when I didn’t back my bike into the long line of them in front of the clubhouse. Rather, I pulled into a random spot and shut her down.
I knew what was coming the moment she turned off her ignition, opened the door, and climbed out, “Why didn’t you pull over there? You’re not a nomad anymore.”
“Because the vote is today. I don’t have the right to park with them yet, considering I’m still technically a nomad.” I said through gritted teeth. Seventeen years with me, and she still didn’t know or really care how shit worked. She didn’t understand anything that was outside of her little small-minded circle.
She huffed, then grabbed a bag that I again wouldn’t pay for because that bag alone could have covered groceries for six months, and closed her door with her fucking hip. Jesus H Christ. She loved the car so much, gushed when she got it, and risked putting a dent in it with the force she used? Fucking typical of Rebecca Edwards Childers.
I was walking to the front door of the clubhouse when something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.
Unknowingly, I stopped and felt Rebecca walk into my back as I turned my head to see what was going on. I heard her let out an oomph and then a snarl at the fact that she touched me at all.
Yeah, in case you missed that, we slept in separate beds too.
Now, let me tell you something else, not once have I ever cheated.
Have I thought about it?
Fuck yeah, I have.
I’m a red-blooded male. Sex is fucking important. That release, sliding into a woman’s tight heat and rocking both of our worlds. It’s something else.
As for the vision in front of me? Fucking hell. I would have cheated a long ass time ago to have that.
And then like a flash into the future or some shit, I saw the woman that was sitting in that truck bed, her dark hair fanned out over my pillow, her body rubbing deliciously under mine. Her moans. Her breaths. The way she sounded when she came. The way her eyes shined as she came while staring into my own. Seeing her swollen with my child in her belly. The whole nine yards.
Just like that, I was hard as a fucking rock.
And then I felt like a total creeper and a fucking pervert. Because I was thirty-five years old, and she couldn’t be no more than twenty-four at most. Not to mention I haven’t seen her before, so I had no clue if she was an ole’ lady either.
With just the top half of her body visible, I knew... I knew that everything about that woman was natural. If she were standing before me, you best believe I would’ve dropped to my knees in front of her.
But… just then seeing the woman that climbed down from the truck bed and got to her knees because she saw a little girl that was running fall down?
Any woman that can stop what they are doing and help a child, that was a good woman.
What shocked the hell out of me was that there were at least five people in the back of that truck bed, and at least fifty people surrounding it.
