Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
“They had to shut down Jem Vape, and that was the final nail in the coffin. Rev’s been on the decline for a long time now. Really, since we were teenagers, and I’m just as upset as anyone to see him in this sad state. But what can you do? He’s a grown man who made his own choices.”
As we went down in the elevator, I turned to my husband.
“But is there something we can do for him? Is there something we should do?”
Reed shrugged and looked straight ahead.
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I could send him to rehab, I suppose. Maybe that will straighten him out. Another solution could be psychotherapy, but maybe rehab is a better choice because he needs more than once-a-week visits. He needs 24-hour care.”
With that, it was done. Reed enrolled his twin into a facility that focuses on substance abuse, and its attendant anxiety and depression. These ailments go hand and hand, and I hear Rev is getting better. He’s gained weight, looks more robust, and seems to remember conversations, which is a giant step in the right direction.
Also, we were able to solve the question of the baby’s paternity. At first, we thought that there was no way to know because Reed and Rev share the same DNA. However, it turns that there are differences in the DNA of identical twins, they’re just few and far between. With new technology, you can now reveal these differences, and although the test is expensive, we had it done. To my relief, baby Tully is Reed’s child, and not Rev’s.
“I’m so happy,” I breathed after we got the test results. There were tears in my eyes, and my fingers trembled while holding the piece of paper.
“Sweetheart, you know that I’m Tully’s father no matter what,” my husband growled. “She’s mine.”
“Of course she is,” I said in a quivery voice. “But can I just say that I’m so happy that she’s definitely, one hundred percent genetically yours as well? I was really nervous.”
Reed merely took my hands again before looking deep into my eyes.
“She’s mine,” he growled. “And you are too. And so is the baby on the way.”
After all, I’m pregnant again now. I’m only about three months in, but it’s really spiced up our love life because the hormones coursing through my body make me so horny all the time. My tits always seem enlarged, and my kitty wet and pulsing. But right now, Reed wants me to take a fist in my back end, and to be honest, I’m looking forward to it.
“Are you ready?” he growls while licking my gape again. It feels so good and I moan throatily, taking a deep breath. I’m on my hands and knees and bend my head down, pushing my rump in the air.
“I’m ready,” I breathe.
My husband grins and dips his right hand into a giant tub of coconut oil that we bought especially for this purpose. It comes out gooey and wet all the way to his elbow, and then he leans forward and gently tongues my buttonhole again.
“Okay, here goes,” he growls. “Relax baby, and it’ll go in just fine.”
I squinch my eyes shut and press my cheek against the mattress. He puts one hand on my lower back to keep me steady while the other probes my dark star. The tip of one finger slips in and I moan with pleasure.
“Mmmm, oh yeah Daddy. Finger me open just like that.”
He growls, and I feel his hard shaft brush against the back of my thigh, leaving a trail of wetness.
“Hold still, sweetheart.”
A second finger joins the first, and then a third. The stretch is incredible, but I can handle it. I continue to take deep breaths, focusing on the incredible sensations pulsing through my back door.
“Is it working?” I pant. “Are we almost there?”
Reed growls behind me, and I can feel the hot blue of his gaze on my tiny brownie.
“We’re getting there,” he says in a raspy tone. “Hold still, sweetheart.”
Unbelievably, even more of his fist is edged into me and the stretch is intense. I let out another throaty moan, and we seem to have reached a sticking point. But my husband keeps up the pressure, and then suddenly, it happens. His entire fist is in me all the way up to his wrist. I gasp as my eyes fly open.
“Did we do it?” I blurt. “Oh my god!”
Reed’s expression is intense with hunger, but he nods calmly.
“We did indeed, honey. Or more accurately, you did it because you’re my confident babymama. Now buckle your seatbelt because we’re going in for a ride.”
With that, his entire fist begins to saw in and out of my backdoor. It was filthy, and the noises were incredible. Wet sucking sounds rang out, and I felt like butter was being churned in my behind. But although new, the sensation was also incredible and before I realized it, I was flying over the edge. My tight tunnel clamped on his hand and then dissolved into a series of tremors.