Takeover Ch. 02

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You wake in the middle of the night. Fia's not there. Alarmed, you slip out of bed and pad over to the door. A muffled sound is coming from downstairs, the living room. Another call, maybe?

No, not words. Noises.

You open the door just enough to slip out. You try not to make any noise. You drop to your knees at the balustrade and peer down. Nothing, but the noise is clearer now.

Murmuring and then a gasp.

You tiptoe down the stairway and near the bottom you spot Fia. She's lying back on the couch, her eyes closed, her nightdress bunched up around her stomach. One hand is under the cup of her bra and the other is moving inside her underpants. Her chest heaving, she bites her lip, smothering a gasp that tries to escape.

You know exactly what she's doing. You've caught Loretta doing it more than once. She's playing with herself.

Fia takes her hand from her underwear and puts one and then two fingers into her mouth before sliding them back inside.

You ache with shame as you watch her. You've reduced her to this. You're the one who's supposed to please her, to keep her happy. It's like you're not her husband at all, just some kid that she's babysitting, playing at being a husband.

Fia's gasps grow more frequent, the fingers inside her underwear more violent. Then she cries out and lifts her knees up as her entire body shudders.

You flee then, up the stairs and back into the bedroom. You slide into bed and push your face into the pillow. Your eyes feel hot and wet.

Don't cry, you fool. She'll know you saw her. She'll be humiliated.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to relax your body. Fia's footsteps pass the door on their way to the bathroom. Flowing water swishes from the tap and a short while later the door opens.

Are her footsteps guilty as she approaches the bed? Maybe you're imagining things.

Fia slides in beside you, leaving a gap between your bodies. She lies on her back and it's only a few moments before her breathing deepens and she starts to snore.

For you, however, an eternity passes while you struggle to sleep, the weight of your failure as a husband crushing your heart.

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The next morning you wake before Fia. You barely slept at all during the night and instead just lay there on the bed, listening to her breathe and watching her sleep. The barracuda had looked so peaceful, her head resting on the pillow, her chestnut hair curlicued over the pale skin of her cheek and neck.

When she comes down the stairs still in her nightdress and rubbing her eyes, you've already got her coffee and breakfast ready. You get her to sit down and bring her breakfast to her. It's just some brioche and jam but her eyes light up when she sees it.

She samples the brioche and murmurs in appreciation. "Don't tell me you just baked this!"

You fight down a blush and nod, saying that brioche is incredibly easy to make. Anyway, you made the dough last night since refrigeration always makes it taste better.

You fuss around, making sure that Fia has everything she needs for her coffee. She has it with lots of sugar and lots of cream. Once she's happy you make yourself some tea and sit down across the breakfast nook from her.

Fia, her mouth full of brioche, examines you, frowning. "You look tired."

You say that you had trouble sleeping last night.

"I think I must be working you too hard," she says, but her teasing seems forced. Her alarm beeps and she gobbles the rest of her breakfast and rushes off to get ready for the day.

When she returns she's transformed back into the barracuda, her pencil skirt and blouse tight and accessorised today with a cravat; her lipstick is that stark red colour that so struck you the first time you met her.

She kisses you with her bloody lips, grabs her briefcase and is gone.

The rest of the day passes slowly. You have a lot of time to ponder your relationship so far. It was a shock seeing Fia last night pleasuring herself, forced to satisfy herself after you'd failed so miserably. Of course she'd been eager to make love to you: it's what people get married for, not just for children. Lovemaking breeds intimacy between a husband and wife. Loretta used to talk about it a lot, since your parents slept in separate rooms.

You don't want that to happen between you and Fia. You remember the forcefulness of her touch, the eagerness of her questing tongue in your mouth. Even when she'd been so frightening, she had smelled delicious, a different smell from before, a powerfully sexy one.

You get hard thinking about her, but you leave yourself frustrated. Maybe it's punishment for your failure. Anyway, you feel like it would be taking something for yourself which should be hers.

That night Fia returns early. You're in the middle of your dinner preparations when she comes down the stairs.

She sees her beer waiting of her on the table and walks straight past it to where you're deglazing the carrots in a pan. She embraces you from behind and starts kissing your neck, her breasts press against your back, enveloping you in her scent. Like last night, there's a hint of perspiration that you find deeply exciting.

You almost burn yourself and Fia lets go of you, laughing. "I missed you," she says.

You get dinner on the table. Fia is sitting on the couch. She's taken off her pantihose and is massaging a foot raised up on the ottoman.

"Sorry," she says as you walk in. "I know my feet are gross. They really hurt though. The floors of the boardroom are hard and I spent most of the day pacing them."

You push aside the ottoman and kneel down in front of her, saying you want to help. Fia blinks.

"Are you sure? But my feet are still sweaty from... oh!"

You're already cradling her right foot in your hands. It's sweaty, like she said, but you don't care. It'sherfoot, after all: a surprisingly delicate foot and you quickly learn all about it as you get to work massaging it.

Fia sits back, moaning and grimacing as your fingers delve into her tight muscles.

"Oh god. Why are you so good at this?"

You learned how to do it from a professional masseur, you explain. You mother insisted you take lessons, saying that it was an essential skill for a man to have.

"I think I need to kiss you mother when I see her next," murmurs Fia, closing her eyes. "Yes. Just there."

You do a good job. You're eager to please her, especially after last night, and seeing her lying back and murmuring and moaning as your fingers dig into the tightness of her foot excites you. Fia bites her lip, her now dishevelled hair falling across her face as you get to work on a particularly stubborn knot.

Once the foot is done you move on to the other. You cup her heel in your hands and bring your face closer, ostensibly deciding where best to begin, but really to sample the delicious scent of her feet. You're embarrassed by the sudden desire to do so and try and conceal it by running of your knuckles across her arch.

Fia gasps and curls her toes and you can't resist bringing your lips against her sole, then, and kissing it.

Fia gasps again. "Hey, what are you doing?"

Caught, you go back to massaging her foot, your gaze lowered to hide your heated face.

"No, do it again," she says. "Please. I liked it."

Really? Feeling like a pervert, you bring your lips against her arch again. This time you poke the tip of your tongue against her skin, tasting the salt of her perspiration, and Fia moans.

You kiss her again before turning your attention to her toes, which you kiss in turn. Fia starts to squirm.

You kiss her big toe, flicking your tongue at her skin again since she enjoyed it so much when you did the same to her arch. Then you dip your tongue in between her big toe and the toe beside it.

Fia gasps.

You feel a surge of excitement that your tongue is making her feel so good. You tease her, running your tongue across her toes, flicking underneath the first knuckle of each of them in turn. Fia squirms in agony but you hold onto her foot, not letting it get away, and slip her little toe fully into your mouth and suck on it.

Fia jerks her foot away with a yelp. While you're still kneeling there in surprise, she leans down and pulls you up onto her lap. She brings her face to yours, her eyes hot and eager, but when your lips touch she hesitates.

You reassure her by kissing her. It's a soft, butterfly kiss just against her lips but it leaves Fia breathless. She kisses you back, harder. Her arms sweep around your neck and sighing you melt into her embrace.

Her kisses grow hotter. Her hair falls across your face, her tongue delving into your mouth as she caresses your chest and stomach through your shirt.

You're more than excited now. You squirm with shame, knowing your hardness must be obvious to her. A moment later you feel her hand brush across your erection and she whispers against your lips.

"May I?"

You nod and she continues kissing you as her hand works at undoing your belt. She gets your belt off with little effort and then she unbuttons and unzips you and slips your pants and underwear down to your knees in a single impatient motion.

Fia draws her sticky lips from yours and glances down at your nakedness. "Wow. You're bigger than I expected." Her fingers touch you and your breath explodes out of you. "Are you really okay with this?"

You nod. The delight that speared through you when she touched you was incredible, but it's nothing compared to how it feels now when her hands curl around your length and she strokes you once.

You cry out. Fia stops. "Oh, does it hurt?" she murmurs. "Maybe I should stop, then."

You bury your face in her chest, not wanting to show her how excited you are. But Fia takes it as a no and she begins to tease you with slow and gentle strokes.

Small gasps burst from you and you start spilling out in your eagerness. Fia chuckles and runs her fingertips over the sensitive head and draws the stickiness there down along your length. The stroking is slick and easier now and you get harder and harder. Fia knows what's she doing and she quickly learns what you like.

How many times has she done this before, you wonder? You feel the hot sting of jealousy but it just as quickly disappears as pleasure wracks your body.

Her strokes become more fervent. Fia coaxes your face from her chest with coos and stroking of the hair then attacks your mouth again. The eager hot wetness of her tongue is too much for you and with a cry you reach the peak of your excitement. Hot shame fills you in equal measure with the most exquisite pleasure as you come. Fia's hand grows sticky with your copious semen but she makes no move to stop stroking you, and you're grateful for the fact. Pleasure flows over you with each stroke and you moan against her soft chest.

"Good boy," says Fia. "You came a lot, didn't you? You must have kept yourself for me all day. I'm very happy."

She continues to caress you as you go soft. Then she gets up and grabs a handful of tissues and wipes off her hands. She cleans you off next, humming happily.

"Dinner will have to wait," she says. "I think I need to give you a bath. I should have one too." Her eyes are dark, her pupils large as she considers you from beneath her heavy lashes. "Shall we have one together? In the interests of conserving water?"

You nod. You feel sleepy after your orgasm and you feel like going to bed. But you feel guilty again, too. Fia was so attentive to your desire and you didn't have a chance to properly finish your massage.

She pulls your pants and underwear off and helps you up from the sofa. You redden with embarrassment as she leads you, naked from the waist down, up the stairs to the bathroom.

"Just let me get the bath ready," she says.

She disappears inside leaving you in the corridor. Water hisses. A few moments later the door opens again and Fia is standing there, a towel around her torso. She puts her hands on her hips, her face stern.

"What are you doing? Get that top off!"

You do as she says. You begin to fold up your shirt but Fia grabs you and drags you into the bathroom.

The bath is huge, the size of a Jacuzzi. For all that talk of conserving water, it's pouring out of a hidden faucet in the wall in a torrent. Steam fills the room. You take a step forward and yelp when Fia slaps you on your bare butt.

"Hurry up, you!"

You pad across the chilly tiles, glad for the steam covering your nakedness. You have to clamber into the bath since the steps are hidden and as you slip into the water you gasp at how hot it is.

There's a gentle surge in the water as Fia herself gets in. She looms out of the steam and grabs you from behind, making you yelp again.

"Hehe. My husband's a nervous little thing, isn't he?"

She throws her arms around your neck and presses against you, her breasts, slick and hot, squashing against your back. Her lips, cool now in contrast to the heat of the steam and the water, run along the side of your neck. She murmurs happily as her hands slip along your ribs and down between your legs.

You gasp and panic that Fia might want you to get hard again. But she just whispers mollifying noises in your ear and gets to work washing you. Soon a loofa gets involved and she has you raise your arms so that she can clean under them with the strawberry scented foam.

"Strawberry is my favourite scent," she whispers to you. "But it's our little secret. I don't know what the board would say if they knew the Barracuda had the taste of a ten year old girl. They'd probably see it as weakness. Some of them are out to get me, you know." She sighs. "You're the only thing keeping me together right now. I had no idea being married to you would make me so happy... so happy."

Her words and the gentle touch of her washing bring a smile to your lips. You had no idea you'd be as happy as you are either. The scary barracuda of last night seems far away now.

You turn and hug Fia to you. She's surprised by your sudden assertiveness and drops the loofa. You bring your face close to hers and tilt your head, gazing shyly up at her.

She knows what you want. She kisses you, gentle at first, but then the barracuda in her comes back and she kisses you harder. With her breasts against your chest now you're amazed at how big they are. Growing up with your sisters you've only seen bare breasts that were modest in size. Fia's are large but firm with only the slightest of heaviness to them. In the bath her pale body has turned a bright glistening pink, but her hard nipples are pinker still.

Fia breaks the kiss, gasping. "Uh, we really need to finish washing you."

She has you stand up and turn around so that she can get to work washing your stomach, butt and thighs. She giggles as she gently pats the loofa between your legs.

"This spot needs some extra attention, I think."

You're covered in foam from the stomach down after lying in the water and you're glad of the modesty it gives you. But the smooth warmth of Fia's body pressed against yours and her teasing with the loofa soon gets you hard again.

Fia says nothing but keeps washing you as if nothing has happened. She takes a plastic basin and sluices clear water over you revealing your glistening nakedness. She reaches over and takes you in her hand, stroking your already hard length.

"I'm a lucky woman," she murmurs as she leans forward and slips her lips over the head.

Your legs go weak and you shiver as a never-before experience pleasure spears through you. Fia makes you sit back on the edge of the bath as she slips her lips further down your shaft. She's able to get most of you in her mouth and the feeling of slick heat is excruciatingly pleasurable.

Fia notices your balls tightening and she slows down, but it's already too late. You stammer out a warning just as you start coming in her mouth. Even while being overwhelmed with pleasure you try and push her away, concerned that she'll be disgusted, but Fia grasps your hips and keeps her mouth glued to you as waves of semen jet into her mouth. She mutters happily, her throat moving as she swallows.

Your hands clutch the edge of the bath as Fia's sucking leaves you shuddering, scarcely believing the intensity of the delicious sensations spilling over you. Fia swallows the last of your semen and pops you out of her mouth to lick at the small amount pooling on the tip.

"And I just cleaned this," she complains, pouting. She sweeps a small dab of semen at the corner of her mouth with her tongue and then retrieves the loofa and goes back to washing you between the legs as you soften. She gazes up at you. "This thing isn't going to get hard again, is it? I think I've probably had my daily intake of protein already."

Although still dazed by your climax, you're coherent enough to try and apologise for coming so quickly.

Fia snorts. "You reallydon'tknow anything about girls, do you? I'm flattered you came so quick. I think you might be getting used to me."

She finishes washing you and you slip down gratefully back into the water. She applies some more bath foam to the loofa and glances at you. "I need to wash myself, but maybe..." She holds out the loofa towards you, dropping her gaze in uncharacteristic embarrassment. "I don't know. Maybe you'd like to..."

You nod and take the loofa. It's your job, after all, to attend to your wife's needs. She watches you as you glide through the water to her and tentatively place the foamy loofa against one arm. Fia stretches her arm out and you soap the length of it, followed by her other arm. Then she lifts them and you give her armpits attention. After that you hesitate, but she takes the end of the loofa and guides it onto her chest.

Your heart racing, you slide the loofa over her breasts, coating them in white foam.

"Don't forget to wash between them," says Fia. "It gets pretty sweaty there."

After she feels that you've given them enough attention she turns around and you soap the beautiful expanse of her back.

Fia looks over her shoulder. "I need to wash the rest of myself now, but if you're too embarrassed, I can do it myself."

You shake your head, your heart pumping hard in your chest. Pleased, Fia smiles and slowly eases herself up out of the water. Some foam sticks to her, covering her sex but her flat stomach, wide hips and generous thighs are all bare, glistening and pink. You quickly apply foam to her long legs, shyly going higher until you're washing her thighs and lower stomach.

When she's happy with the job you've done to her front, Fia turns around, kneels forward in the water and stretches her torso over the edge of the bath. You know what is expected of you. You dab foam over the back of her legs and the curve of her buttocks but then stop. Fia looks back at you, pouting.

"Don't be so bashful," she says. "I washedyouproperly, right?"

The blush thankfully invisible on your already bath-hot skin, you dab the loofa between Fia's legs again, washing her properly this time. Once you're finished she remains lying there and you realise you've forgotten to rinse her. You pour the water over her, the foam sliding from her body.

You planned on averting your eyes, but curiosity gets the better of you and you gaze at the naked beauty of your wife. From behind, Fia's sex is surprisingly puffy, pink, the inner lips discrete.

Suddenly she flips over and you fall back onto your bottom with a splash. A mocking grin burst onto her face. "I could feel your eyes burning into me. Did you get a good look?"

You shake your head, unable to meet her gaze, but Fia just laughs. She's sitting up on the edge of the bath now, leaning back on her elbows, considering you with glittering eyes. She parts her legs and crooks a finger at you.

Swallowing, you sit there staring at her.