Love, the Second Time Around Ch. 02

"Harder," she whispered. "Fuck me harder, Amberle."

She spread her legs even wider so she could take as much of me insider her as possible.

I leaned in and raked my teeth against her exposed throat.

"Fuck me yourself," I pressed myself to her, then rolled over on my back, pulling her with me.

Sitting back, Nichole mounted me and pinned my arms to the side.

I lay back on the bed, our fingers intertwined.

Her hips moved harder. And faster.

She seemed to lose herself to the sensation of my cock inside her. Nichole's hair fell over her face.

With her eyes glazed over with pleasure, my bride began to impale herself on me, no longer caring for anything except the orgasm I had been denying her for the last hour.

"Fuck!" she clenched her teeth, sweat dripping from her body.

"Fuck me!" I reached up and grasped her breasts. She leaned in to me, her weight settling into my arms. "Use me . . . ride it, Nichole . . . ride me until you cum!"

She grasped my breasts, looking to stabilize herself against me.

Nichole's hips were a blur.

I pinched her nipples, drawing a squeal from her.

When her legs started to shake, I knew she was going to pop.

Lifting herself up one last time, she brought her pussy down on my as hard as she possibly could, and then the dam burst.

Her ear-splitting scream could probably be heard two floors down.

Nichole collapsed into my arms, her entire body quivering.

"I'm . . . I'm cumming!" she sobbed.

As she leaned into kiss me desperately, I grasped her by the hair at the top of her neck. "I want to see your face when you cum."

Her face contorted with pleasure, held at that perfect moment. Time seemed to stand still.

Her eyes rolled back into her head as that little death overtook her.

I pulled her to me as she was consumed by the cum.

Nichole convulsed for what seemed like an eternity before finally falling limp.

The dead weight on top of me was surprisingly comforting.

I could feel her warm breath against my skin, which was the only clue that she hadn't fucked herself to death.

Holding her to me, I waited as my wife's body jerked a couple of times before her breathing became regular.

Nichole stirred after a few moments. She was drooling on the pillow.

She lifted herself up enough to straighten out her legs. We lay like that for a long time, alone under the dim lights.

Every so often, I kissed her on the cheek or she nuzzled up to me. My fingertips traced circles on her shoulder blades and back.

I think neither of us wanted to speak for fear of breaking the spell between us in that simple, intimate, magical moment.

Finally, we separated, not because we wanted to, but because her bladder was about to burst.

She staggered to the bathroom, her legs still weak. I lay in the mess she had made on the bed, but I wasn't complaining, watching her lithe form with nothing but love in my eyes.

When she was done with her business, Nichole picked the comforter off the floor and tossed it on the bed before slipping under the covers with me.

I reached for my phone to turn off the slow buzz of the vibrator which was still lodged up her lovely backside.

"You're a bitch, Mrs. Perry." There was no threat or anger in her voice. Only playful affection, and probably a little annoyance at how long I had led her on before letting her cum.

"I'm your bitch." We kissed tenderly. "Mrs. Perry."

"What does my bitch want?" she asked, flipping each of the small candles over so they turned off.

"I want to fall asleep inside you." Nichole rolled over to give me the spoons. She lifted her leg enough to take the strap-on inside her. I reached around and cupped her breasts gently. Pushing back against me, she wrapped her fingers around mine. "And then I want to wake up with you every day for the rest of my life."

**************

Our first morning as newlyweds started a slight buzzing. Which wasn't due to anything me or my new bride was doing.

I blinked away the haze and reached for my phone.

Breakfast in 45 minutes It was my daughter keeping us on track.

My phone buzzed again. Aunt Melanie is taking over the restaurant downstairs

I looked over at Nichole. She lay flat on her back, completely zonked out. We were both still naked. At some point in the middle of the night, I had taken off the strap-on harness, and Nichole's butt plug found its way to its case by the sink.

We'll be down at 10 I set my phone on the wireless charger on the nightstand.

I pulled the topsheet down, exposing Nichole's unclothed body. I cuddled up to her.

She stirred but didn't wake.

Leaning in, I kissed her gently. First on the cheek, then down to her ear.

"Morning time, my love," I whispered.

Nichole sighed contentedly. My hand strayed down to her chest, my fingertips lightly brushing her skin.

She finally woke when I cupped one of her breasts. Her eyes fluttered open.

Her head tilted back and I kissed her tentatively at first, then more enthusiastically when she reached up to caress my face.

"Can we stay like this forever?" The look in Nichole's eyes made my heart skip a beat.

"It would traumatise our children," I giggled. "And we can't afford to buy this hotel."

"You could," she said. That was probably true, but I was not about to give up retirement to get into the hospitality industry.

We kissed tenderly for a few more minutes, holding one another.

"Spread your legs." She obeyed me without hesitation.

Her sex was still slick to my touch from the night before.

Starting on her outer labia, I slowly began to massage her. I could feel the heat radiating from between her legs.

Nichole's body smelled sweetly of sweat and sex.

She bit her lip the first time I brushed her inner lips.

She gasped when I pressed against the nub of her clit.

"Oh, god!" she cried out as I rubbed her a little harder.

Her next words disappeared into my mouth as I pressed my lips to hers and were lost to the pleasurable moans that started deep in her chest.

She started to buck against my hand.

I knew we didn't have a lot of time, so I didn't bother to edge her as I had done the night before.

Just a little harder.

Just a little faster.

Nichole flailed her arms to grasp the pillow and the sheets when I took one of her nipples in my mouth.

All the while, I continued my ministrations on her pussy with my hand.

"Amberle . . ." Nichole's voice was a pale whisper.

I pulled on her nipple with my lips, then let go.

"Cum for me," I breathed on the wetness of her skin.

Her areola crinkled up, and I blew a blast of cold air on the nipple.

She started to shake again. Not as intensely as the night before, but just enough to release all of the desire I had built up within her.

With a sigh, she fell back into the plush mattress, her eyes closed.

I leaned in and kissed her one more time, then patted her on the hip. "Breakfast is in thirty minutes."

Nichole joined me in the shower not too much later. We washed one another under the hot water, our hands lingering on each other for as long as time allowed.

"I love you," she gave my rear end a squeeze on the way back to the bedroom.

"And I love you, Mrs. Perry," I returned the grope, having to sublimate my desire to trip her again right there.

We strolled into breakfast right on time.

Maureen and Stephen had saved us seats at one of the big tables. Most of the friends and family who stayed at the little boutique hotel were there to join us.

We got a room down the hall for our children. Maureen, in turn, invited her best friend Emily Koizumi and her boyfriend David Thompson to stay with them.

I think Nichole's son was very happy to be included with his new big sister and her friends from college, who treated him as if he had always been part of their gang. I told you my daughter is an angel.

Carole, John and Elizabeth sat with us at the "big person's table", along with my brother and his wife. My two siblings and their families seemed to be adjusting well to Nichole's big—and sometimes boisterous—extended family.

Breakfast was fun, if more subdued than the wedding reception. I'd say there were about fifty people who cycled through at some point.

"Are you coming back to the city tomorrow with us?" I asked Melanie.

"We don't want to overstay our welcome."

"We'll make room," I snorted. "Besides, we're not leaving until next Wednesday."

"Where are we going?" Nichole asked, trying to slide one past me.

"It's a surprise."

"Your bride doesn't know where you're going on your honeymoon?" Mel's eyes went wide. "That's ballsy."

"She knows we'll be gone for twenty-five days. We've all got passports. Everything else is taken care of," I said with a sly grin. Nichole generally doesn't like surprises, but just as I hadn't butted in on the wedding preparations, she had left me alone for the honeymoon. All she knew was we were going out of the country, she'd have access to the internet if she absolutely had to get in touch with work and that our kids were coming along.

"Emily has been staying with us since school got out anyway; what's two more bodies?"

People began heading out as breakfast wound down. Our wedding had taken over most of the hotel anyway.

Kevin plopped down in an empty chair near me when it opened up. "You could at least let me pay for breakfast."

"Don't look at me," I shrugged. "I'm didn't pick up the tab."

Nichole's family is full of notorious check-grabbers. McKayla and Kevin made it a contact sport. I also knew some of our friends would also try to make a play for the bill; I saw Melinda, her husband and her two wives actively trying to get the restaurant manager to take their credit cards only to be told that it had already been covered. John was more subtle about it, but he was also rebuffed.

"Not this time," Nichole looked just as puzzled as me when Kevin shot her an inquisitive glance. "I got hit for the reception."

As people left, they called out, "Thank you for breakfast!" hoping that whomever was the sneaky bastard would out themselves with a "You're welcome!" but none was forthcoming. And apparently, they had paid for everyone.

We spent the rest of the day visiting with friends and family. We settled up with the wedding and reception venues, gathered up everything which was ours and spent another night in the hotel.

Carole, Don and Suzie bought dinner for everyone who stuck around.

That night, Nichole and I went to sleep curled up in the king-sized bed with our children, our first sleepover as a family.

We returned to our home in New York the next day and started the next chapter of our lives together.

**************

"I have something for you."

Nichole frowned as I handed her the small gift bag. We had just gotten back to our apartment and were unpacking from the wedding. The rest of our family was getting settled. I took a quiet moment to give her this present. "I thought we weren't getting each other gifts."

"No money was spent on this." That was not technically true, but the cost was nominal and it had zero actual cash value.

She reached through the tissue paper and drew out the custom booklet I had made for her. One of Maureen's friends from school did most of the graphic design work. The cover was bright red with a white heart along with the words, "Passion & Romance".

Bound within were 150 or so hand-drawn coupons entitling her to any number of favors. About half were romantic, non-sexual items: footrubs, scalp massages, picnic dinners, date nights, long weekends away, and other stuff like that which were designed to lead to sex and intimacy.

Most of the rest were routine sex acts dressed up with innuendo as an "all you can eat buffet" or "a night of butt stuff" with a few instances of light bondage and role play; my two favorites were "naughty night nurse" and "French maid who doesn't speak French and can't clean worth shit".

Flipping through the booklet, Nichole slowed down when she got to the last few pages. She looked at me, then at the coupons, then back to me. Incredulous.

"We've both lived fairly plain, ordinary lives, doing what people expected. I want to be adventurous," I explained.

Nichole flashed me one of the tickets. "This is very adventurous."

"All you have to do is ask," I winked.

"And this . . . Holy shit! . . . You can't be serious . . ." Her eyes got wider as she got to the end. "Why are you leaving this up to me?"

"Because I want you to be in control of this. I never really got crazy in my youth. Well, besides kissing a girl, having a baby and getting a lesbian wife twenty years before it was legal," I giggled nervously. "If I live out the rest of my life with you, I will be happy. But if you want more, then I want that, too."

"I see we're going to have to have some more long talks." Her voice was thoughtful. I could almost hear the gears turning in her head. "And then we'll see how serious you are."

**************

"Do you think I would look better with bigger titties?"

Nichole squeezed her breasts together and struck a couple of poses in the mirror.

"Yours are perfect," I frowned from across the room.

"They're not as nice as McKayla's."

For the record, no one has breasts as nice as McKayla's. But I wasn't about to tell my second wife that, even if Nichole only knew her through the copious amount of pictures I had taken in my previous life.

"There is nothing wrong with your boobs, sweetheart." I got up from the bed and walked over to her. Brushing the hair back, I kissed her at the nape of her neck, then reached around to cop a quick feel.

"Didn't you just want to put your face in Melinda's chest? Just to see what it was like?" she asked.

"If you had those boobies on your chest, you'd blow out your back in a week."

"But they're awesome. I saw you eyeing her."

"Everyone was staring at her tits, including you," I laughed. Our eyes met in the mirror. We held each other for a long moment just as the morning was starting. "I don't think you want big boobs for yourself, I think you want to know what it would be like to be with someone who has gigantic tits like hers."

Nichole closed her eyes and smiled. Notice she didn't deny it.

I turned and nibbled on her earlobe. She shivered when I blew in her ear. "You know I can make that happen."

"I didn't think you were serious."

My hand snaked down her belly. She spread her legs in anticipation.

"Just ask," I whispered in her ear. "You don't need them, but if you want tits like Melinda Dransfield's, I will buy them for you. If you want to motorboat a pair of enormous breasts, cash in one of your tickets . . ."

Her eyes closed when I touched her. She let out a soft gasp.

"But don't ever forget who's your number one."

"You are," she breathed.

"Who's you're number one?" My finger easily slipped past her labia. She was still slick from our early morning encounter.

"You're my number one," Nichole said dreamily.

I withdrew my hand from her panties and smacked her once across the backside. She sighed with disappointment.

"We have a brunch date with our parents and children," I reminded her with a sly wink.

"You're an evil woman."

"And you married me anyway," I returned her crooked smile.

We got dressed and went out to the living room where our family was mustering.

Well . . . extended family. Kevin and Melanie left on the Monday after the wedding. My brother and his family stayed for another day, and my sister departed on Wednesday. We had enough space if the kids didn't mind sharing the couches in the living room.

Emily and David were staying with us through the weekend. Stephen went back to his dad's for a couple of days after the wedding, but was back with us to pack before our big honeymoon.

As an ex-spouse, Ethan has been fully supportive of my relationships with Nichole and their son. While he politely declined our invitation to the wedding, he is a good dad and his relationship with Nichole is surprisingly mature. I don't see myself as ever being his best friend, but we don't have an adversarial relationship, either.

Don and Suzie get along famously with Nicole's mom and Michael's parents. Our domestic routine had settled into a pattern over the last year, now it was just formalised.

The walk to Tavern on the Green only took about ten minutes from our home, and I swear half of that was waiting for the crossing light on Central Park West.

Carole, John and Elizabeth were there before us. Benny had picked them up earlier and dropped them off; they no longer walked all over Manhattan, a concession to the years marching on.

We had a wonderful breakfast as a family.

"Don't even think about trying to pick up the bill for breakfast today, Stephen," John told his grandson with a wink.

He smiled sheepishly.

My eyes widened in surprise.

"It was you? How did you pull that off?" Nichole's surprise also seemed real. Her tone wasn't accusatory; just curious as to how an 8 year-old could slip through a throng of check-grabbing adults and pay for a meal that cost hundreds of dollars.

"I wanted to give you a present for your wedding. Reenie helped me," he replied, referring to his stepsister. Only Melanie and Emily call her that. I guess now Stephen does, too.

"That was a wonderful present," I said, reaching over to give him a hug. "Thank you for our first breakfast after our wedding."

"You're welcome," he returned my embrace and kissed me on my cheek. "You're a great step-mommy."

I blushed. Nichole squeezed my hand and gave her son a hug, too.

Looking over at my daughter, I saw her wink at me. Of course she had helped him; she was devious enough to have pulled one over on the rest of the adults, and I knew she could cover the difference between whatever money Stephen had given her and the actual bill. It was probably her idea, too. I made a mental note to slip her some money or just deposit in her account, although she probably would find a way to return it.

"Are you at least going to give one of us an itinerary for your honeymoon?" Carole asked. I don't think Nichole had put her up to that; she was probably genuinely concerned.

"Emily has it," I replied. Nichole's older sister is a literal rocket scientist and has some Air Force security clearance that is past top secret. I knew she wouldn't tell anyone who didn't need to know. "Besides, we'll let you know where we are when we get there."

Nichole rolled her eyes. She had given up overtly trying to pry into our plans. At this point she was just along for the ride.

"What do we need to pack, Mommy?" Maureen asked, trying to slyly garner a clue.

"Pack for warm weather. Like you were going to the beach, but we might not be going to be beach. And you'll need at least one nice outfit."

"Do you mean 'church on Sunday' nice or 'meet the Queen' nice?"

"Something in-between," I replied cryptically. She was trying to figure out what I had cooked up. "Here's what I will tell you: One, we're leaving the country. Two, you'll be back in time for school. Three . . . I think you'll have a great time."

"Of course we will, Mommy," Stephen said, shocking me. Nichole, too.

I didn't want to object to my stepson calling me "Mommy" if it would hurt his feelings, but I wasn't his mother. I also knew for a fact that he called his stepmother by her first name, and she has been in his life a lot longer than me.

This wasn't a discussion I wanted to have in public, but it also made my heart skip a beat and touched me in the very depths of my soul for him to consider me close enough to call, "Mommy".

Of course, he could have just been mimicking Maureen, since that's what she calls me; she calls Nichole by name.

The rest of our time together was spent laughing and making good memories. We take lots of pictures of each other and in groups.