Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
I lift my hand and let him slide the ring onto it. “You’re going to marry me again. This time for the world to see. No more secrets. Everyone will know you belong to me.” I’ve always belonged to him.
“I knew that ring would be hers,” I hear Felicia whisper to Richard.
I drop down, wrapping my arms around him. He pulls me into his lap, kissing me. “I love you,” I say between kisses.
“I love you too, Sunshine.”
EPILOGUE
MACK
“I look like I got a boob job.” Sunny jiggles her very ripe tits in front of the mirror. “What do you think?” she asks, turning in my direction.
I pat the side of the bed. “I can’t tell. You should come over here and put them in my mouth.”
“How is your mouth on my boob going to confirm my suspicions?”
“I’ve sucked on your tit enough times now that I can tell when there’s an ounce difference. Remember when I was tonguing you before Tyson was born and asked if you were pregnant?”
“I had also been throwing up every morning for a week.”
“Details, shmetails. Are you coming over or do I have to get up?”
“Looks like you are already up,” she smirks.
A glance down at my lap proves her right. Lazily, I reach down and palm myself. “Your fine ass is sitting in front of the mirror, fondling your own tits. I’d be more worried if I wasn’t hard.”
I give my cock a squeeze and tug, and then motion for her to come closer. She licks her lips like a tease and crawls onto the bed. I reach for her and—
The bedroom door slams open. “Mom! Dad! Guess what!” shouts our ten-year-old.
Sunny collapses on the mattress. I whip a sheet over my erection. Tyson clambers onto the bed and shoves his tablet under my nose. “I got invited to the Little Astronauts Space Camp in Florida!”
“That’s amazing, son.” Pushing aside the thoughts of boning my wife, I bring the text of Tyson’s email into focus. “In consideration of your winning thermonuclear experiments with laser beams submitted to your state science fair, we are pleased to invite you to the 74th Little Astronauts Space program,” I read aloud. Sunny scrambles to my side to peer over my shoulder.
“Tyson! That’s amazing.” She throws her hands out, and Tyson climbs over my chest to hug her, nearly kicking me in the balls. The kids have always liked her best.
“Are you proud, Mom?” he asks.
“What do you think?” She wipes his unruly bangs off his forehead. “So proud. You’re going to pilot me to the moon someday.”
“Probably just to the Outspace Kennedy Center. No one wants to go to the moon anymore,” he chides. “Right, Dad?”
“Right. The moon is outdated.” At least that is what Tyson has been telling us for years. The moon is not going to be terraformed. We are all going to live in a gigantic space station that resembles Earth but is not Earth. I’m not sure Sunny and I will still be around then, but I won’t be checking Tyson’s facts. He’s probably right.
“Exaaaactly. Can I go?”
“Of course.” Sunny tousles Tyson’s hair. “But first, let your mom and dad get dressed. We’ll go have pancakes at the Sky Café. Tell your siblings to get ready.”
Tyson whoops and jumps off the bed, kicking me in the back as he goes. Sunny rubs the spot. “You raised him wild,” she says.
“Me? How so?” I twist around and capture her hand. “This has never administered an ounce of punishment. If anyone raised them wild, it’s you.”
“Maybe so, but I love them unruly and free.” She smiles smugly, which is such a fucking turn-on that I can’t resist leaning forward and taking her mouth.
“Ewww. Grossssss,” shouts Lauren.
With a sigh, I back off and look toward my eldest. “You aren’t dressed,” I observe. The girl is still wearing her Snoopy pajamas and Big Bird slippers.
“I don’t want pancakes. Gigi called and wants to know if I can meet her at the mall.”
“It’s seven in the morning. The mall doesn’t open for three hours,” Sunny says.
“I know, but it’ll take time to get ready. Besides, I’ve already heard about Tyson’s space adventures, and I’m tired of it already.”
“You’re just jealous because you want to go, too,” shouts an unseen Tyson.
“Do not!” Lauren yells back.
Sunny averts her face and bites her lip so she doesn’t start laughing. I haul my ass out of bed with the sheet wrapped around my waist in case any more of our children decide to come storming in.
“You said last week you wanted to take a rocket to space.”
“I said I wanted you to rocket into space because you were trying to break into my diary!”
“No one wants to read your dumb diary anyway!”
“Mom! Dad! Tyson and Lauren are fighting! I think they’re going to break something,” cries Jenny. The eight-year-old stands just outside the door with her hands on her hips, looking like a thirty-year-old manager at a coffee shop talking about a pair of unruly customers. Our youngest has always been the most grown-up of our three children.