PullMyHair (2 page)

Although she was thin, she was tall and she loved the fact
that she had to lift her arms in order to place them around his neck. She loved
when he took control.

Her secret kink was her desire to be dominated.

“How ‘bout I show you what it means to
christen
something,
baby?” He laughed throatily, raised her butt high in the air and slipped her
panties down her long legs. After flipping her underwear to the side, he lifted
her pleated miniskirt and allowed it to fan around her thighs as he spread her
legs.

“What are you doing, Greg?” she asked, out of breath with
her heart racing because of what he was about to do to her in the middle of the
day…on her brand-new kitchen counter.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she felt the long, hot
sweep of his tongue against her aching mound. He separated the folds of her
cleft with his fingers and drew her clit deeply into his mouth, swirling it
around his tongue, working it until she thought she’d die from the pleasure.

She held on to the edge of the counter, helplessly accepting
his sensuous torture. “Oh Lord, Greg…what if someone sees us?” she asked as she
squirmed, bare-assed on the counter, moaning when he slowly eased two big
fingers into her tight opening.

“Who gives a damn? You’re my wife. We’re legal now.” He
removed his face from her mound long enough to answer and laughed gruffly. With
a slow smile and a wink he bent his head to go back to his feast.

He captured her clit gently between his lips and worked it
carefully, swirling his tongue around the small nubbin. He licked and ate at
her pussy like it was manna from Heaven, with his face buried so far between
her legs she could only see the top of his head.

Damn, he knew how to eat pussy.

He’d been the first man she’d allowed to eat her out and it
had taken
much
begging on his part for him to sample her goodies. That
and a ring on her finger.

Had she known what she’d been missing, she may have given in
a long time ago, with or without the ring.

She loved the way his dark, curly head looked between her
spread thighs. He stroked and ate at her until she was weak and forced to lie
back against the counter.

It was either lie down or fall down.

As he laved her relentlessly, Liza could feel her orgasm
bubbling up, ready to break free. She bucked against him and rose from the
counter to grab either side of his face and smash it into her pussy, grinding
herself helplessly against him.

All previous shame and decorum flew out the window.

She felt the orgasm rip through her body and moments later
she uttered a long keening sound of release, tears falling down her face from
the intensity of her orgasm. When she finally relaxed her body, it was to see
Greg smiling at her.

“You like the way I ate that tasty little pussy, didn’t you,
Li? I did too.” His voice was low and his breathing ragged. “Are you nice and
ready for something more, sweetheart?” he asked and rose from his kneeling
position on the floor to stand big and tall above her on the counter.

She could barely talk and was afraid that if she tried,
she’d embarrass herself so she simply nodded her head.

“Good. Because I’m ready to give it to you,” he told her
before lifting her ass high and away from the counter with one hand. With the
other he unzipped and freed himself from the confines of his jeans just far
enough to allow him to plunge his big, hard cock deep.

They exhaled simultaneously long and harsh, the mutual feel
of the other giving them pause. He was so big and she was so tight, they both
grimaced in sensual delight as their bodies adjusted to one another.

Greg smiled that smile she loved so much as he leaned down
to gently kiss her on the corner of her mouth. She could smell the essence of
herself on his breath.

“I love you
so
much, baby. No matter what happens,
busted sink or anything else, we’ll work it out together. Always have faith in
me, okay?” he asked. And only after she nodded, tears on her lashes, did he
begin to slowly grind into her…

* * * * *

The screech of the kettle brought her out of her memories.
Her breathing was heavy, and surprised she glanced down to see her hands buried
beneath the folds of her vagina, as she sought release from her own horniness,
pent-up anger and frustration.

She quickly completed what she started, adding a second
finger to speed along the orgasm she felt ready to release. As she worked her
clit, trying hard to reach the pinnacle, she looked up and standing in the
doorway was Greg, with his Vuitton briefcase in one hand, Blackberry in the
other, staring at her with wide eyes, mouth slightly ajar and one dark eyebrow
slightly raised.

Greg felt bad, but there was nothing he could do about it.
Liza was going to have his balls on a platter.

He had to take the call from his assistant. His client
needed him, the trial was coming up and he currently didn’t have a damn thing
to help his case, nothing that would get his client out of paying his cheating
wife the multimillion dollar settlement that she was demanding.

Renita had called to tell him she needed him in the office,
because she’d found some evidence that he’d been looking for that might help
their case. He’d been so relieved, he’d lost track of time as they spoke, and
when he looked around after he’d gotten off the phone, Liza was nowhere around.

His manhood was still hard, the excitement he’d had for his
wife hadn’t gone away after hearing the good news and he wanted to make love.
He ran a quick hand over his cock and sighed.

“Too bad, boy. I don’t think it’s going to happen. I have to
go to the office and meet Renita and I don’t think Liza would take too well to
me trying to get a quickie in before I have to go. It’s what she’s so pissed
off about now.”

He walked over to his side of the large walk-in closet and
pulled a dark, blue suit from the hanger as he thought over the situation with
his wife. He eyes stole over to her side of the immense closet and he smiled.

The woman had a serious shoe addiction. She kept them in
individual small plastic containers with a picture of the shoe on the outside
of the box. It was the strangest thing he’d ever seen. He’d asked her why she
did that and she acted as though it was the most normal thing to do. She’d said
if she didn’t put a picture on the outside she’d have no idea which pair they
were.

They’d just gotten married at the time and had been moving
their things into their new home. He had no idea she needed the pictures until
she started moving in her clothes and shoes. He knew he must have looked crazy
staring but she had enough shoes to start her own department store.

But he liked providing for her. Liza had grown up very poor
and had moved around a lot as a kid. She told him that she and a cousin once
had to share a pair of shoes because her mother had been between jobs and
couldn’t buy her a new pair.

That explained, in part, her shoe addiction.

And besides that, the woman just loved shoes.

But in all their seven years of marriage, sometimes he felt
as though he really didn’t know his wife. He knew all her likes and dislikes.
They discussed everything from politics to religion to her favorite ice cream
flavor. They shared most of the same values and concerns about the world.

In the past, they’d spent long hours talking about what was
going on in the world, but he’d always felt as though she kept a part of
herself hidden away from him. That she closed a part of herself off, not only
to him, but to the world at large. Maybe even to herself.

She rarely talked about her childhood and always said it was
the past and was a place she never planned on revisiting.

Until last week, he’d always thought it was not worth
discussing if it caused her such undue stress. If she didn’t want to talk about
her childhood, he respected her right not to do so. He didn’t think it had any
bearing or impact on their relationship.

He no longer felt that way.

He picked up his briefcase and pocketed his wallet as he
walked out of the bedroom. He knew she was going to be pissed. He’d promised
her they’d spend the day together with no work interference. They’d already
started the morning off badly when he’d made the comment about her new haircut.

She’d cut off her hair and he’d innocently asked her why she
did it. She still looked beautiful to him, long hair or short. It just came as
a surprise. When he’d come home from work, she’d greeted him and he hadn’t paid
as much attention as he should have and properly complimented her.

It was late when he got home and he only wanted to take a
shower and curl up with her in the bed.

They’d talked as he showered and done just that. He fell
asleep listening to her talk about her day, in her low, husky, sexy voice.

God he loved her voice.

It was one of the things that had first attracted him to
her. She had a scratchy low voice that captured his attention from the first
time he heard her speak when he was in law school. He’d dropped by his favorite
diner for a late night meal after studying for the bar exam.

He’d ordered from the menu without looking up and when the
waitress had spoken, asking him if that was all, he’d glanced up and was
startled when he heard her speak. Her voice was low and earthy sounding and
caused an immediate reaction before he’d seen her. When he looked into her
face, his fate had been sealed. She was beautiful. Tall and lean, she had the
body of a long distance runner.

She wore her hair straight and long and pulled away from her
face. Her face was angular and her skin was the color of coffee with just a
hint of cream and just as smooth looking.

Her eyes were large and slightly tilted in the corner,
giving her a kewpie doll look. Her small bow-shaped lips were an off shade of
pink and the bottom lip was fractionally plumper than the top. Her lips were
small but lush and he instantly got hard thinking how good they’d feel wrapped
around him.

Greg remembered how he’d taken his time looking her over
from the top of her head down the length of her body. She was thin but she had
nice round hips and a nipped in waist that made his imagination run wild. He
envisioned how he’d be able to rock her, holding on to those nice round curves
the whole time.

His gaze had gone back to her mouth.

Damn.

He must have stared too long at her pretty lush mouth. She’d
coughed lightly to get his attention and he glanced away from her mouth and
noticed she had one hand on her on hip, with her head tilted to the side,
staring at him.

He’d liked the sexy smile that flickered around her mouth.
She
knew
he liked what he saw.

That had been the beginning of their whirlwind relationship.
It had taken a few trips back to the café, but she finally agreed to go out
with him on a date. They’d dated for a short time before they’d become
intimate. He’d been the first man she’d been with sexually and that had turned
him on.

He loved that he’d been the first man to introduce her to
lovemaking as well as being the man to introduce her to the finer things in
life.

She’d been in graduate school when they met and had been
working at the café in order to pay her tuition. Within their short time of
dating, Greg had known she was the woman for him and had asked her to move in
with him. He’d been surprised when she declined his offer.

He thought she was playing hard to get until she continued
to reject his offer. She would make love to him, let him do all types of freaky
shit to her, but she drew the line at living with him. She said she wasn’t
going to live in sin and chance busting hell wide open for him.

He’d had no idea what she was talking about “busting hell
wide open”. She explained that if she lived with him without benefit of
marriage, she’d go straight to hell in a handbasket.

Greg laughed out loud in memory. He knew then and there this
woman was his. She was a nut.

His smile died as quickly as it erupted. He missed the
“nut”. They seemed to be strangers more than anything else lately and it was
partially his fault. The other part…

As he walked through their home, he glanced around at the
works of art on the walls, the Persian rugs and Waterford crystal in the
mahogany, glassed-in curio cabinet. He’d bought it all for her. Nothing was too
good for his Liza. She deserved the best.

He’d been working longer hours lately, taking on more
clients and they seemed to be growing farther apart. His latest case had him in
the office so late that he not only missed dinner with her, he missed going to
bed with her, arriving at home when she was already sound asleep in bed. His
shoulders slightly sagged when he thought how angry she would be when he told
her that he wouldn’t be able to spend the day with her. As he rounded the
corner and walked into the kitchen, it took his mind a moment to catch up with
the scene he was presented with.

“What the fuck…?”

* * * * *

Here she was, in the middle of the kitchen in broad daylight
with all the blinds opened, friggin’ masturbating.

And Greg busts her.

Liza was so mortified. She wanted a big hole to appear smack
down in the middle of her newly tiled kitchen floor, swallow her up whole. And
die.

Damn it. Simply die.

“Liza, what are you doing?” Greg’s deep voice sounded
puzzled. As though he couldn’t
possible
understand what she’d been
doing, leaning against the counter with her hands buried in her pussy.

What? Did he think she was hunting for buried treasure?

“What does it look like I’m doing, Greg? I had to do
something. Obviously you have no intention of helping me out!” Instead of
crying and running off embarrassed, she decided to hell with it. So what if he
caught her playing with herself! She needed relief and from the looks of the
briefcase in his hand…

“Where are you going? Renita called so now you have to go
running off to the office? What about our plans, Greg?” She brazened it out.
She
refused
to discuss what she’d been doing. It was his fault anyway
for leaving her high and dry. She calmly turned the faucet on and washed her
hands before drying them and turning back to the stove.

To hell with it…whatever.

* * * * *

Liza busied herself at the stove fussing with the kettle, looking
at everything but Greg. She may play the role of sophisticate for her friends
and the women at the country club, but he knew her well enough to know it was a
partial front. Always perfectly coiffed and immaculate in her dress. Never a
hair out of place or the wrong shoes on her perfectly matched ensemble.

He loved looking at his wife. She was so beautiful to him
that after seven years of marriage, all he had to do was look at her and he was
rock hard. Her smooth chocolate skin and deep, dark eyes turned him on like no
other.

Her face was angular but not sharp and she had the sexiest
lips he’d ever seen. He loved the way the bottom lip poked out a bit farther
than the top. He loved pulling that bit of lushness into his mouth and nursing
it.

And her smile.

She had a way of smiling that melted him like hot wax on a
burning stove. She’d look at him from underneath those long eyelashes of hers
and like a dog, he’d come panting and sniffing, begging for just a taste of
her.

Until recently, Greg thought that he knew everything about
his wife, from her slight embarrassment at public displays of affection to her
secret love of being dominated in the bed. She’d shown more real emotion
upstairs in the bedroom when he’d been unable to finish what he started with her
than she had in a long time.

He felt like shit that she’d had to resort to finishing
something he started in the bedroom. But it couldn’t be helped. He had to take
care of business or he wouldn’t be able to give her all the things she
deserved.

He walked over and turned her away from her tinkering with
the kettle. “Sweetheart. Liza, look at me. Big Daddy’s sorry. Do you forgive
me?” He knew it would take more wheedling on his part but he tried to pull her
into his arms.

“The Big Daddy shit stops at the bedroom. And I’m not too
sure it’s working there anymore, either
Big Daddy
,” she bit back and
snatched her body away from him and walked over to the chrome-colored,
oversized refrigerator.

He was stung by her retort but refused to acknowledge it.
She was just mad. He’d make it up to her.

“I’ll try and get this finished ASAP, okay? Then we’ll have
the rest of our Sunday together, just like I said, baby. I promise.”

“Whatever, Greg. Don’t rush on my account. Maybe I’ll call
Karina and ask her if she’d like to go to lunch with me. Although the way she
and Cooper have been going at it, I doubt if she’ll have the time or the
inclination to step away from the bed.”

He heard the anger, frustration and jealousy in her voice
when she mentioned her best friend who’d just recently gotten married.

“I’m sure she’d love to go out for lunch. Call her and I
promise I’ll be home soon, okay?”

When she simply nodded her head, he walked over and tugged
at the back of her hair and raised her face to his as he kissed her on the
mouth. He was startled when she moved her face out of reach.

“Just go! Don’t try and pull it now! You made your decision,
so get the hell out!” Liza wrenched her face away from him and shoved him away;
the unexpectedness of the gesture threw him off balance.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Liza? And why do you keep
telling me I’m ‘not pulling your hair’? What’s that supposed to mean?” He was
angry and didn’t get her at all, but she obviously didn’t give a damn.

“What do you
think
is wrong? I can’t believe I have
to tell your ass what’s wrong with me! How in the hell do you
not
know
what’s wrong with me, Greg? God! How could you be so damn obtuse?” she demanded
in a voice gone shrill in its intensity.

“Finally, some real emotion,” he muttered, stepping back out
of reach.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

“Nothing, just forget it.” He moved away from her.

“No, don’t run away now. If you have something to say, just
say it!” Her face was tinged with a distinct reddish hue as she grabbed his arm
to get his attention.

“I don’t feel like fighting with you right now, Liza. I
don’t have time for this. I’m late.”

He knew they needed to talk but he didn’t have time to fight
with her and he knew that’s what it would be.