Mad Monk's Priory

"That can wait," she purred, "I want you for dessert." Smiling, he set the plate with Nothing Bundt Cakes off to the side, the position bringing him close enough to bend his head, licking, then sucking at her nipples. She purred in delight, pleased to feel her body responding.

"I guess these can wait a couple minutes."

"I ate medium rare steak," she warned, "I hope it takes more than a couple minutes." Tague stepped between her legs. Her hand came up, pressing his chest. "I want you in me," she urged. She was relieved that she was truly aroused at the thought of what was about to happen. She had also worried that if he began to perform oral sex something would be different.

And then he was inside of her. She trembled at the delicious moment of resistance in that first thrust. She let her head drop back, moaning in pleasure. Tague braced his hands on the table and began to thrust into her, bending his head to lick and suck at her nipples. In short order Karen announced she was going to cum, and as her orgasm began, she collapsed back fully onto the table top.

Tague caught her hips, bringing her ass partially off of the edge giving him a better angle. Murmuring appreciatively, Karen spread her legs, wide, bending her knees, her heels spurring her husband on. She reached up, pulling him down into a passionate kiss, hands looping around his back, digging in her nails as he picked up the pace. She moaned again, humping up against him.

"God, it feels good," she said breathlessly. They went on rutting at each other, both panting. She nearly giggled, at how easy it was to manipulate her husband.

He was an amazing lover, easily the best in her admittedly limited experience. Not that he was enormous, just that he was intent on her pleasure before taking his own. And he knew just how to get her off. But she also knew the buttons to push to speed things along. The nails, the perfectly timed, 'Oh God!' And when he picked up the pace like he was it was never long.

She almost felt guilty for what she was doing trying to get him off more quickly. But that was stilly-- they were having sex. She was a bit ashamed, though, because there was an ulterior motive. They were still in the missionary position, which was going to be perfect to prove she had been imagining earlier.

She cried out as he growled, hammering into her harder than before and holding himself there. Her body spasmed as she felt him swell, sure that he was cumming. She let herself cum again with him.

"Yesss!" Tag chuckled-- not the accented ominous chuckles from the bedroom. He often laughed when they were spent, and she found the response endearing. He backed out even before her climax had ebbed, his right hand catching her left knee.

He effortlessly flipped her before him, leaving her on her stomach on the table, nearly knocking the cake onto the floor. Karen gasped in surprise.

"Sweet," she heard Tag say, from where he stood behind her. He bent, and before she knew what he was doing, he bit her left ass cheek, making her gasp. She started to push up on the table, but he stood, stepping forward in the same motion and his cockhead speared into her loose sex.

Karen gasped again as he filled her completely, then held himself there. The base of his erection pinned her clit against the edge of the table top, and any words she had intended were lost in a cry as she came again before her last orgasm was really done. And then he was pumping into her steadily, feeling... huge. Karen could not focus to ask him to wait or slow down or stop... did not want him to, really, but it was different. How had he maintained control to keep fucking her she wondered in the scant moments of clear thinking before she was cumming yet again, screaming in pleasure.

Tague shouted. She felt his heat and knew he was cumming, too. She twitched her hips, welcoming it, mewling through the ebbing pleasure of their mutual climax several minutes later, and like her husband's frequent post-coital emotion giggling.

"Wow," Tag managed, panting over her, "I think that was more than two minutes."

"Mmm-hmmm," Karen agreed, turning her head to look at the cake. "We earned our dessert." She shifted, then giggled again, "You still feel like you're ready to go, big boy." Tague took his cue, backing out of her. She bit her lip at the sense of emptiness when he pulled free.

"Oh, shit," She wondered why he said that, and looked back to see her husband staring at her. Or more accurately, at her ass.

"What?" She rolled onto her side, trying to look down.

"Sorry, babe," Tag was clearly upset, "I guess I got a little too into it." Karen gasped, seeing the edge of the bite mark on her ass. She slipped off of the table, padding naked to the entryway to examine it in the big mirror by the door. When she turned around, Tag was laughing.

"It's not funny!" she hoped he could not see she was more scared than angry.

"I know!" he waved his hands, "I've just never seen you go to the front door naked." Karen's eyes went wide and she gasped at such shameless behavior, hurrying back and picking up the sweat bottoms she had donned before dinner. She caught her husband eyeing her ass.

"Hey mister, we just did it, remember?"

"Oh, I remember... I just thought you were asking for more." He stepped close, hugging her, "I'm sorry, babe, I'll be more careful."

"It's fine," she said reflexively, then heard herself add, "It's a small price to pay for sex that good." Wondering why she said that, she slipped into her chair and reached for her cake. She laughed when Tag handed her the hoodie she had left on the floor.

After dessert, she told him to sit down, that she would clean up. He assumed that meant a trip to the bathroom because she had always been fastidious about cleaning up when they were done having sex. Instead, she got the dishes into the sink, then climbed onto his recliner and snuggled against him until it was time to go to bed. He knew he was not the smartest man, but holding her in their new house, right then he knew that he was the luckiest.

Chapter 6

Karen woke with Tague the next morning. It was his turn to offer they shower together, but she rolled her eyes and went out to make the coffee, then showered while he was getting ready for work. He kissed her, asking if she wanted to hurry up getting ready so he could drive her to work, but she declined, telling him then about the CEO's news about the car.

She was still naked when he left, giggling when he asked if she was trying to make him late to work. She had slept well, after he had pulled out wandered naked into the kitchen and sat at the breakfast bar enjoying her coffee. Looking at the kitchen table, she felt a tickle of arousal. She was reminded of the earlier promise only when she saw the prominent bite mark in the bedroom mirror when she began to get ready for work. She told herself it had to be some weird coincidence. The entire bedroom episode while Tag was making dinner had to have been her imagination. Even so, she hurriedly dressed and climbed onto her bike in the garage just to be safe, then scolded herself for being afraid of ghosts the entire ride to work.

It was only when she had stored the bike in the doctor's lounge and sat down in the work area in the ED that she realized with a shock she had not put on a bra. She put an arm over the front of her chest, looking around to see if anyone else had noticed. Slipping back into the dressing room, she donned a second scrub top which made her nipples less obvious. She was embarrassed that they were both more prominent than was usual. She sat back down in the work area and blushed at her nurse's pointed look.

"You keep coming to work like that," Brenda whispered, "And Jeff will invite you to a pool party."

"I can't believe I forgot," Karen said, even as she processed what she had heard.

"You and hubby had an interesting morning."

"Nope, but it was a dinner to remember last night," she stopped herself, then blushed. "What pool party?" Brenda laughed.

"You looked so shocked coming out and seeing us all cavorting around, I wondered if you even saw me." Karen smiled, shaking her head.

"I didn't see you, nurse Fowler." She shook her head, "I hadn't seen women behaving like that since college." She chose not to say what else she had seen. "Anyway, Tag and I went swimming there the next day. Alexandra gave me just the suit to wear when they invite me for a party," she added without thinking about it. And blushed, feeling her nipples tighten at what she was suggesting. Brenda winked.

"Oh, it's always a good time, just wait. I'll go start on the cold in room 2. We don't want mom getting all Puritanical on us." Karen nodded, trying not to blush mor deeply and set about signing off reports, wondering if a third scrub top was going to help.

The day passed quickly, as did the week. There were no more spectral visitors. Karen did not wake herself crying out to be fucked. Then again, Tag kept her more than satisfied; they had sex at least once a day every day after that dinner, and she walked around the house partially naked and more than partially aroused. In fact, partially aroused seemed to be her new baseline state.

Chapter 7

By the following Friday Tague was more than a little worried. Something had happened at dinner the Wednesday before, or rather while they were having sex after dinner. He had not really noticed at first, but after his shower. After he was dressed and, on the way, to work. There was... he was just bigger. He had to sit in the car differently to be comfortable.

He had gone straight to the men's room, embarrassed to be checking that. There was no lump or bruise or swelling. No pain... it did not feel any different. He certainly was not going to 'make sure it works' while he was at the firm. But it was different. He felt it move when one of the more attractive receptionists went by. He worried he would get trapped at the conference table or his desk, hiding an erection that would scare people away and get him labeled a pervert. He was not about to google about it at work, or ask his wife, the physician.

To his relief it did still work, as Karen unknowingly proved when he got home that first night after he had noticed it. And she did not seem to notice anything, although he would have sworn erect he was significantly larger, as well. He wondered if that ever happened... Did men ever get bigger later in life? It worried him, but then it seemed like he had better stamina too, so by the second Friday after noticing the change, Tag was more or less used to it. He was no longer thinking about it as anything but being 'him.'

Friday night they drove into town to eat. It was jacket weather, but people kept telling them it was never too cold so close to the coast. He chose to park at the hospital suggesting they walk into town. Always anxious for him to exercise more, his wife agreed.

Their course took them past the ambulance entrance, and Tag was surprised to see Jeff heading out the door in an 'EMT' jacket, slipping behind the wheel. There was obviously some sort of call, and they waved at the B&B owner as the big truck rattled to a start and pulled to the entrance to the highway, turning north, through town, the lights and sirens flicking on as he made the turn and accelerated away.

"I didn't know Jeff was an EMT." he said. Karen shrugged.

"I thought I'd told you that." Tag went back through his memories. She had mentioned 'EMTs' a handful of times, and he knew they occasionally brought her home if it was late or the weather was bad. He made a mental note to ask the CEO again when her car would arrive, and stopped wondering why his wife had not mentioned Jess by name.

"What sounds good?" he asked, putting an arm lazily around his wife. She snuggled close.

"Well, Brenda Fowler, you know the head nurse in the ED?" He nodded absently-- they had not met but he had heard the name, and had likely seen her one time or another when he was picking Karen up from at work. It was also an immediate reminder she had not said anything about Jeff. "... a great Thai place downtown." He realized Karen had gone on. And he was glad he thought he had the gist of it.

"Thai sounds fine." They walked together north reaching the big open square just west of the highway's course through town. Karen pointed out that it was to the east of the square on the other side. Tague turned right at the near side, pointing out all the other restaurants they had tried were to the west or north.

They made the turn walking north along the east edge of the square, Karen watching the handful of other people who were still shopping or exercising. Tague had long since stopped noticing everyone was a brunette. Instead, he was looking at the buildings. He slowed, then stopped in the middle of the block.

"This is interesting..." Karen stifled a laugh.

"City Hall?"

"No," Tague pointed north, "That's that building. This is... what does it say?" The building was squat and heavy, three or four floors, he guessed, but hard to tell, because there was not a single window. Each corner had a small version of the onion domes seen in every photo of Red Square on May Day. The building was red brick. the grout was red. The slate shingles were reddish black.

He realized that the trees at the edges of the park had obscured the building that first day.

"Weird." Karen said, and uninteresting, she meant.

"It looks like the seventh day adventist church of Moscow addition on steroids," Tague mused. He stepped closer, trying to read the letters almost lost in the red on red on black color scheme curved over the oversize ornately decorated door which was eccentrically place near the far corner of the building. "I can't see what it says."

"It's dark," Karen snorted, then shrugged, "And I'm hungry. We'll come back sometime during the day, or we can ask at dinner."

Tague laughed a few minutes later, because the Thai restaurant was owned and operated by Thai nationals, and while they were attentive and the food was amazing, there was a decided language barrier, so he was not going to learn about the weird Russian building. Instead, he and his wife shared appropriately sanitized versions of their cases that day.

He explained he needed to go in on Saturday and suggested Karen come along. She jumped at the opportunity to shop and eat in Seattle, even suggesting they get a hotel room and make a weekend of it.

It was an amazing weekend. Karen shopped Saturday while Tague worked. She was done in time to join him and most of the others for dinner at the Beast and Cleaver weekend tasting menu, 'the Peasant.' She seemed more relaxed to Tague than she had been at home, and he was glad they were getting away. There were pre-dinner drinks with oysters, wine with dinner, and her usual coffee and Bailey's while he and Matthew and the other guys enjoyed a bottle of port. She laughed that both of them had 'sidekicks' named Matt, and was quickly friends with Matthew's wife, Sherry.

Tague warned she was drunk when they got back to the suite at the Inn at the Market sometime after 1AM. He warned her because she was doing a credible bump and grind by the window, and their room was not so high above the street that she might be visible to anyone walking past the building.

"Not too drunk to know I want a good fucking," she slurred, switching to a striptease. Tague stepped close, trying to pull her away from the window, but Karen spun out of his grip, giggling as her naked breasts came to rest against the window glass. "Cold," she mumbled.

Tague tried to hide his concern and ignore his throbbing erection. He had never seen his wife so drunk. And even though he knew she meant it, he also knew that her being that drunk was a problem from a consent position. Sometimes he hated being a lawyer. He kissed his wife, struggling to get her still undulating body away from the window and onto the bed. She giggled drunkenly when they fell together onto the plush mattress, her hand cupping his erection through his slacks

"Somebody's excited," she said, licking her lips theatrically, "And someone's really big." Tague was conflicted as she began to struggle to get his zipper down. Maybe if he only did things they would do anyways if she was sober?

Without really considering it, he had a hand on one breast, his other dipping between her legs to find she was impressively wet. She moaned into their resumed kiss as he began to finger her, any reservations about having sex with the woman he loved evaporating.

Until she shivered, crying out that she was cumming, and promptly passed out, one hand trapped in his open fly, her fingers wrapped around his erection through his boxers.

He got up, skirting the open window and closing the curtains before stripping down to slip naked into bed beside her. She murmured happily, snuggling against him, and he drifted to sleep, trying not to think about just how close his still semi-erect cock was to her ready sex.

Tague's hangover was impressive when he woke early Sunday. He slipped out of bed, downed two Tylenol, then got dressed and went down the stairs near their suite, exiting onto the street west of Pike Place. Having asked coworkers for recommendations, he placed an order at Biscuit Bitch, then dove into the rapidly building morning crowd to get additional biscuit breakfast sandwiches at Honest Biscuit before grabbing Starbucks and picking up the Biscuit Bitch order. He was quiet but hoped Karen would wake up before the food was cold.

"Tag?" he stopped, just inside the suite.

"Babe?" he answered, "You okay?"

"My head... No, I'm not okay, I'm hungover." He closed the door and set the food on the table. "And I'm naked."

"Yeah," he laughed quietly, "You did a striptease for me and the winos on Pike Place last night.

"What?" she groaned, holding her hands over her head. "You're teasing me."

"Oh, no," he assured her, "You are most horny when you're drunk."

"You took advantage of me, husband?"

"Only to snuggle up with you starkers," he assured her, "I was an almost perfect gentleman."

"Almost?"

"I did let you fish my cock out as if we might actually have sex before you passed out." She laughed, then groaned. He set about getting breakfast ready, including 2 glasses of ice water to go with the seasonal coffee and sugar concoction Starbucks was hawking. And two ibuprofens, her preferred pain killer.

She reluctantly got up, took the blue gel capsules and dutifully finished the waters, then went into the bathroom. And showered for a long time. Tague picked at his food, mentioned the food to his wife twice, then finished his meal.

Eventually she came out, wrapped in towels, and sat down to eat. Tague waited quietly.

"Going back to bed," his bride mumbled, when she had finished devouring her food and what was left of his biscuits. "Breakfast was good," she added as an afterthought. Tague called down arranging for late check out, and was trying to decide what to do when his cellphone vibrated.

Matthew was calling, and suggested since Tague was still in town they should finish with what they had done Saturday, adding that he could come in Tuesday instead of Monday for 'like a few hours work.'

Of course, that proved to be optimistic. They worked through dinner time, Tague keeping tabs on Karen by phone. He knew she had checked out at noon, and she had sent texts where she was shopping, and that she was going to the pop art museum while waiting for him. Tague hoped the 'waiting' specific was teasing. But he did not dwell on it. They made good progress; his efforts were being recognized by Matthew and the other junior partners. He knew he was racking up countless more billed hours than his salary, but that was paying his dues, and he was all right with that. Especially when it was a good team, and his team was.