37. Wes

Chapter thirty-seven

Wes

T he snowy Sierra Nevada Mountains greet us as we arrive at the cabin I’ve rented for the next three days. Layne is asleep in the passenger seat of our new pickup truck. We’ve been spending more time out in nature. So buying the new truck to take us where we want to go was a must, not to mention Layne loves the beast. I won’t lie, the thing is comfortable as fuck. I can see it now. My GTO just sitting inside the warehouse back in San Francisco, cursing me for buying the truck.

Layne’s wish for a Christmas getaway inspired me to organize the perfect holiday weekend. Ma Petite Mort will never forget this Christmas. Picture it; a secluded cabin in the woods equipped with ropes and knives. What could be better? The cute A-frame cabin ahead of us is adorned with lights and decorations. I’ll have to thank the owner for their efforts with the decorations. They really went all out when I said my wife has never had a proper Christmas.

I lean over Layne and press soft kisses to her brow, speaking softly to not startle her. “ Ma Petite Mort , we’re here. Feast your eyes on your winter wonderland escape.“ Layne greets me with a sleepy smile as she stretches. Her eyes light up at the cabin in front of her, then she turns to me with a beaming smile, but immediately hops out of the truck.

I watch as Layne falls flat into the fresh powder, giggling and starts making a snow angel. As I make my way over, she playfully extends her hand, saying, “Come on, you know you want to.” I turn and fall next to her. She climbs on top of me, straddling my lap. “Thank you for this. You’ve made my childhood dream of seeing snow come true.”

“That’s my job, baby. To make all your dreams come true. Now get off so I can show you inside.” I thrust my hips, bucking her up. Layne grinds against me before getting up, a mischievous smile on her face.

Inside, the owner already set the cabin up for the holiday. It’s decorated with a small tree, stockings, and various trinkets. Layne decorated the loft before we left for the trip so it would still be Christmas when we returned home. I watch with. a smile as Layne climbs the ladder to the sleeping loft, getting a view from above and placing her bag on the bed.

“This is so dreamy. Could you imagine living here?” Her voice is full of wonder and enthusiasm.

And I am eating this up. I can’t wait until we have kids and get to do stuff like this with them.

“It only snows for a few months, then it’s just the woods. But I guess I wouldn’t mind that.” I turn to her and wink. “We know how much we love the woods, huh baby.”

Layne’s face turns a beautiful shade of pink. She must be thinking back to a few weeks ago when we visited my parents for Thanksgiving. After eating dinner, we told my parents we were going to go for a walk in the woods to help our food “digest.” I chased her for a good forty-five minutes before catching her and then fucking her against a tree. My parents didn’t even bat an eye to the twigs, scratches, and dirt that covered us when we came back. Though I’m pretty sure my Da caught the blood that was all over the front of my jeans, but like a good man, he said nothing.

It was fucking hot and I can’t wait to chase her through the snow.

Layne climbs back down and starts taking off her heavy coat, hanging it next to the door. I look around the cabin, admiring why I chose this one. The sleeping loft is open and has a sturdy woody railing. It’s one that would perfectly hold a tied-up Layne sometime this weekend. Ma Petite Mort is in for an unexpected surprise.

I dig out my phone from my pocket, sync it to the speakers, and hit play on the playlist I’ve meticulously put together for the weekend. The smile that spreads across her face when “The Season’s Upon Us” starts playing is everything.

Music is the key to my wife’s heart. She especially has a soft spot for Dropkick Murphys. I walk by with my bag and kiss her head as she dances around. With my bag now upstairs, I head back out to the truck to unload the bags of food that we grabbed in the little town on the way up and the dinner I prepared beforehand.

Layne’s curled up on the couch in front of the wood stove reading her book while I get dinner made. I steal glances at her now and then, watching her body language change. I can tell when she is reading an intense part of the story. With dinner ready, and I look over to get her attention but I catch her holding her breath with her mouth hanging open. “Care to share with the class, Ma Petite Mort ?”

Layne gets up with her book and makes her way to the table. “The guy just ate food off of her while he fucked her. It’s kind of hot.” She plops into the chair, setting her book down. I snatch the book up and replace it with a plate full of food. Pot roast with mashed potatoes, carrots and green beans. Layne’s favorite. While she digs in, I read the scene in her book.

I can do this better. This is amateur hour compared to what I have planned for her.

With her bookmark in place, I set it down next to her. “So you gonna let me eat my dessert off of you, baby?” I say, shoving a bite of roast in my mouth, smirking. Layne looks at me from across the small table, her mouth hanging open. “Better close that mouth before I don’t let you finish dinner and stick my cock in it.”

Layne gulps her bite down, shrugs her shoulder and says, “You won’t.”

My beautiful wife, being her usual bratty self. Just to taunt me.

I wipe my mouth with my napkin and scoot my chair back. “Oh, baby. You don’t learn. Your husband doesn’t make idle threats.” I rise and in two steps, I’m next to her chair. Layne wants this. She looks up at me through her lashes, biting her lip. Fuck, she knows what biting her lip does to me. My cock’s already hard and pressing against the zipper of my jeans.

With my foot, I push her chair out from under the table. She squeaks as she tries to hide the grin that’s spreading across her face. “On your knees, Layne.” She stands and I kick the chair backwards. It tips over onto the floor. With her eyes on mine, she drops. Her chest heaving, nipples budded, waiting to be sucked. With one hand, I remove my belt and draping it over my shoulder, and undo my slacks, dropping them and my boxer briefs to the floor. I step out of them and kick them aside.

“Look at you. My bratty girl, so pretty on her knees for me. Go ahead, baby, take your husband’s cock and suck.” I reach down, grab the hair tie from her wrist, and pull her hair into a ponytail. Layne opens her mouth, sticks out her tongue and waits. With a firm grasp on the ponytail, pulling it down so her eyes are on mine. I take my cock and give it a few strokes and with her head still tilted up and her tongue out. I smack my cock down on her tongue a few times .

Layne clenches her thighs together. “Wes, fuck my mouth. Teach me a lesson.”

I thrust into her mouth, making her gag as I hit the back of her throat. “That’s it, my pretty girl, fucking gag on my cock.” Layne groans as I use her mouth to get off. I’m not gentle. This is rough and quick. She wants me to teach her a lesson and Layne gets off on sucking my dick, so in order for it to be a lesson I have to make it quick. Her hand inches towards her clit, and I can’t have that. I take the belt from my shoulder, wrapping it around her neck and tightening it.

There’s no panic in her eyes because she knows I would never let anything happen to her. “You want to breathe, Layne?” I ask her, feeling her pace quicken. She nods. I watch her throat constrict against the leather of the belt. “Make me cum and then you can breathe.” It’s amazing what a little oxygen restriction does. She hums and the vibration of her mouth feels fucking amazing. She takes as much of me as she can into her mouth and hollows out her cheeks.

“So fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth.” I loosen the belt just a little bit. Tears prick her eyes as she pulls back and takes a breath. I thrust back in and within three deep sucks, I’m there. Warm cum fills her mouth faster than she can swallow. I pull back, my cum drips down the side of her mouth. Her tongue darts out, licking it up.

I remove the belt from around her neck, quickly making sure I didn’t hurt her. Then I bend down and pull her up from the floor. She leans in and kisses me, the taste of me still on her tongue. I can smell her arousal and it’s driving me fucking wild. I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, smacking her ass. The ladder in my sight, I head over and begin to climb.

“Now, Ma Petite Mort . I think it’s time I had my dessert.”