This story is a Chris Jackson Fanfiction. It is entirely based on fictional events and for entertainment only. All characters are 18 years old or older. This content is for mature audiences only.
Dua and I were sitting in our seats for the Arsenal football match. They were her favorite team, and we made sure to make a game anytime the stars aligned, and we could see them together.
We—and by that, I mean Dua—liked to lie as low as possible at soccer matches. I was dressed in Saturday casual attire; nice jeans and a button down. Dua was dressed like so many of the other women around us; an Arsenal FC jersey and simple, comfortable black leggings and a baseball cap to match her jersey.
The match was intense and surprisingly close. We were on the edge of our seats, anxiously holding hands. The normal, invested sports fans experience. But then things changed a little.
The camera feed found us in the audience, and the announcer made sure to let the stadium know.
“Look who we have here! Our favorite pop queen, Dua Lipa and her husband, Fynn!” The world didn’t know much more than that about me. The world knew I was German, that I was in IT sales and still held my job despite being married to a millionaire. But that was about it.
“And they’re just in time!” The announcer sounded almost giddy as the screen changed in tint, and that stupid pink heart covered the edges. “It’s the kissing cam! Come on, Fynn! Kiss your wife, the woman the whole world wants!”
I didn’t mind kissing my wife, of course. I didn’t mind doing it in public. We often went to the grocery store and shopped for ourselves like normal people. We held hands, shared an occasional peck. Dua had this thing we’re she’drandomly bite me wherever she could see open skin. But none of this was done on a jumbotron with thousands watching at home or in bars.
I was average, mild-mannered Fynn, about to kiss one of the most desired women on the planet, for the planet to see.
I had to do it, though. It’d be weird not to. So, I leaned in and planted one on my stunning, darling wife. The crowd whistled, clapped, and cheered us on. Normal kissing cam stuff. But it wasn’t over.
We broke the kiss, and were both smiling like embarrassed teens. And then the commentators began to terrify me and my insecurities about being married to a superstar.
“C’mon, Fynn! Kiss her more than that! Your wife is Dua Lipa!”
I couldn’t believe this! The game commentator was heckling my kissing! Not wanting to take that kind of slander on international television, I grasped Dua by the neck and pulled her in again.
With cameras watching, I molded my lips to hers. It was her tongue that darted out first, tasting my lips. If she wanted to deepen the kiss, I wouldn’t stop her. She had more of an image to worry about than me. On the other hand, a lot of her image was being tastefully daring.
With her invitation, I slid my tongue over her white veneers and into her mouth. I felt her melt into the kiss, sighing into me. Her lips felt so perfect, so mine.
“Go ahead, Fynn. Show them how I’m yours; how I belong to you.” Dua kissed my cheek and then pressed her lips to my ear. “Let me blow you right here. Right now. If they want to see us, let them really see that you own me.”
I swallowed and pulled back to look into her brown eyes. “Dua, you can’t be serious.”
Dua looked over to see that the kissing cam was still on us. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” Her hand was already rubbing the crotch of my pants, making me hard for her.
“Oh, here we go!” The announcer sounded elated now, seeing that Dua was rising to the occasion, and making me rise in my jeans.
“It’ll be fun. You’ll be the only man to have me suck his cock like this. The entire world will see your big, meaty dick in my mouth. Nobody will ever wonder if what we have is real again.”
Even as her hands undid my belt, button, and fly, I was speechless. Was Dua seriously going to go through with this? Was the football league really going to let this happen in their stadium, on their broadcast?
I was so frozen that I didn’t even react as my own wife confidently released my now-erect cock into the stadium air. The cheers that erupted all around us were enormous. Deafening.
The arena, and viewers all over the world watched with me as my wife, not theirs, Dua Lipa, sank to her knees in front of my seat.
“If every man in the world didn’t want to be you before, they will now.” Dua spat on her hand and began to run it over my length. “You’re now the man to have my hand wrapped around his cock for the world to see. How many men have fantasized about what you’re feeling right now?”
I tossed my head back and groaned as she spat on her other hand and wrapped it around me as well. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
Dua hummed and spat down the tunnel of her hand. “And your cock feels right at home with me.”
The damned kiss cam was still on us, but the stadium was silent now. It was like they were all enthralled, watching a masterwork. In a way, it was, just not the kind you go to a football stadium to watch.
I looked next to me and saw something quite startling. There was a woman next to me, but she wasn’t watching. She was staring ahead. Unmoving. Her face was disturbingly… void.
Turning to my other side, was a man, but with the same thing.
I looked down, and Dua had just wrapped her lips around my cock and was humming happily. The crowd was going nuts, but none of the people around me had features.
This whole thing. The entire situation wasn’t real. I was dreaming.
I woke up with a gasp. The setting was completely fabricated by my sleep. Dua Lipa’s plump, wet lips sliding up and down my cock was very real, however.
“Good morning, bebe.” Dua smiled at me, my spit-lubed cock blocking part of her face from view. “I woke up before you for once. You had morning wood, and I just couldn’t resist. You know how much I love nature.”
I rolled my eyes and didn’t try to hide my smile at her horrid joke. She deserved every smile. I never wanted her to stop being her.
“Were you having a sexy dream?” She wiggled her eyebrows before taking me past her lips again.
“The eyebrow thing is so ridiculous. How do you make it cute?” I ran my hands into her long black hair and laid back, happy to let her play with me. It was far from a bad way to wake up.
“We’ve talked about this, Zemra ime [my heart]; you think everything I do is cute.” Her tongue ran from between my balls up to that sensitive flap at the slit of my cock. I twitched and sucked in a breath. “Oh. So responsive.”
“To answer your question, sweetheart, I did have a good dream. Well, it was odd.”
“Do tell.” Her eyes were on me as she sucked just the tip of my cock into her mouth and ran her tongue around the flared head.
“We were at an Arsenal soccer match.”
“Fantastic start. We should go to a game soon,” she suggested between long licks. “Anyway.” She motioned her hand for me to continue like she was some lofty queen.
“Well, we were dressed casually, trying to lay low, as we do. Eventually, the fan cam found us. It turned to the kissing cam.”
“I like this.” Dua smiled salaciously and kissed the tip of my dick, her dazzling eyes still trained on my face.
“Well, you know how I’m not huge on PDA.” I took a deep breath and slipped my hands behind my head as Dua dipped her head lower and kissed my balls. “The commentator wasn’t happy enough with how I kissed you. The asshole told me to kiss you better. So, I did.”
Dua hummed and licked her lips. “Showed the world I was yours, did you?” It was like she was there, like she knew what happened.
“With your encouragement, yes I did.” I chuckled as I looked up at the ceiling and closed my eyes. “We kissed pretty deeply, and you insisted on getting me hard, taking my cock out.”
Dua’s eyes flashed with delighted surprise. “In the stands with the cameras on us? Sleep Fynn is a very naughty boy.” She wrapped her hands around my cock and began to lovingly stroke and squeeze me, like she had in the dream.
I wondered if she had the exact same dream. If she somehow reads my mind. Maybe I just knew my wife that damned well, even in my slumber.
“Oh, we’re not done yet.” My wife’s smile was so big I swore I had just told her I planned an amazing vacation for us. “You didn’t just give me a handy, babe. You dropped to your knees right in the aisle and sucked my cock while the audience went nuts.”
“Nuh-uh!” She was as giddy as if this was a real thing I saw, and not just a dream.
“You were telling me you wanted the entire world to see that you were mine. You said I was experiencing what every man fantasized about.”
Dua purred and spat on my cock, slicking her hands up and down it faster. “That’s quite the dream, bebe. I’m sorry I woke you from it. Did you get to cum, at least?”
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t. If you hadn’t woken me up, I probably would have painted your face. With the way you were being show-offish about being mine, you probably would have worn it all match.”
“Hm. Now that’s a fantasy.” Her hands worked me faster, and her eyes glowed with determination. “Want to hear about my dream that got me all gooey in my sleep?”
“God yes.” I chuckled and played with her hair as she kissed her way up my body. The morning light cast a beautiful golden glow on her copper skin as she licked my pulse point.
She straddled my thigh and rubbed her dewy cunt on me. She rode my thigh, and her breasts looked perfect on her athletic frame. Her head tilted back as she rode my leg, undulating and writhing on top of me.
I wanted to take a picture, but I didn’t need to; she’d do this any time I asked with a smile on her face.
“I had a dream that I was performing at a giant, open arena concert. Packed house. Sold out crowd. Fantastic energy. As I closed out the last song, I was hot and sweaty. The way I know you like me.”
I licked my lips at the image, because she was right. Licking the sweat from her body in her dressing room after a show was one of my favorite ways to tell her job well done.
“Well, I invited you up on stage, and I pushed you down onto a chair. I told the audience just who you were; Fynn, the man I love. Right there in front of a massive audience, I gave you a hell of a lap dance.”
“We’ve never done that before, actually.” I rubbed my chin, almost surprised by that. I’ve seen Dua do lap dance-like moves on an empty chair.
“Would you like me to?” Her voice was breathier now, her eyelids looking heavy. She was humping my thigh a bit faster now, and I think she was approaching the edge. But then she stopped herself.
“Maybe. I’m not sure. I’m not afraid to be seen with you, of course. I’m extremely proud of being your husband. It’s just… all the people. You know how extremely introverted I am.”
Dua’s smile grew wide, and she climbed further up my body. I knew what she was doing, and I moved my hands to hold her hips as she squatted over my face.
I didn’t hesitate for a second. I darted my tongue out and tasted her. Her lips were slick and warm for me and slid so easily around my tongue.
Aria moaned on top of me, her fingers grazing my short hair. “God, Fynn! Yes!” She began to move on top of me, grinding that delicious pussy over my tongue. Even as she did so, I continued to flick and roll it, giving her as much sensation as I could.
“My dream went a little further than yours before I woke up.” She gasped as my teeth carefully scraped her engorged clit. “I didn’t just give you an over-the-pants lap dance. I took your gorgeous, fat cock out. Pulled my sexy bodysuit to the side, and I fucking impaled myself on you in front of my sell-out audience.”
I wanted to respond with a shocked “Jesus Christ!” But I had a feeling that me eating her pussy while she told me about such a fantasy scandal was a hell of a turn on for her. I wouldn’t stop if a burglar broke into our room and caught us.
“I told everyone that I wanted to have my husband’s baby. That I was yours. Only yours. No matter what they thought. We were going to put a new life inside of me, and they were going to watch. Nobody would ever ask if we were real again.”
I groaned so fucking loudly into her drenched pussy as she told me about her bold declaration. That dream, how confident she was in telling me about it, had me so fucking hard.
“Dua.” I gasped, coming up for a full breath. My face was wet and shiny with her. “I’m going to fuck you. And then we’re going to Rina’s for lunch. I hope by the end of the day, we’ll know what we want. No pressure if we’re still unsure.”
Dua moved from my face and snuggled into my neck, nuzzling me. Her lips pressed to my stubbled throat. Then she rose again, but mounting hips this time. She took a low squat, her feet flat on the bed.
Our eyes were on each other, not looking at what she was doing. We didn’t have to look. My cock was in her hand, and I knew she was about to lower herself on me.
As my tip pierced her warmth, she whispered, “I think I already know what I want, Fynn. We can iron out the details, but I woke up so fucking horny thinking about the world watching you put a baby in me.”
My fingers dug into the flesh of her hips as I helped steady her. The flex of her thighs was impressive as she lifted up and slammed back down. We hissed together when her ass clapped onto my thighs.
“I want this if you do. But I will never push you. This decision is so monumental, but you deserve to have a career. You deserve to live how you want. If that includes adjusting your career, bringing our child with us… I will be here every step of the way.”
I pulled her head down into the crook of my neck and she latched her lips to my skin. Guys at the office picked on each other if they got hickeys. I high-fived my fellow vampire victims. I never understood ribbing someone for having a hickey. There are two types of men.
Last night’s shampoo smell had diminished, but I could smell her sweat, her natural scent that made me want to put our kid in her more.
Dua bounced herself up and down, slapping me with a quick rhythm and intensity. I dug my heels into the mattress and lifted my hips, meeting her drops. “Fuck! Oh! Oh my God! Fuck me like I’m yours!”
“You are mine.” I bit her neck, letting my teeth leave white imprints on her bronzed skin. “All mine. My wife. The best thing that ever happened to me. I want you happy. Whatever that looks like.”
Dua slowed, rolling her hips so my cock almost popped out of her before sliding all the way back in. Then she let me all the way out of her, making herself gasp at the loss.
“Are you okay?” I ran my fingers through her hair, my eyes searching hers. It wasn’t like her to just stop like that.
Dua nodded. “I don’t want you to cum in my pussy again until we make a decision.” She laid down next to me, resting her chin on my chest. “I won’t leave you with full balls, though.”
I wrapped my arm around Dua’s shoulders as she kissed my peck’s subtle bubble. I wasn’t a professional athlete, but I kept myself in good shape. It wouldn’t be good for Dua’s image if she was married to a slouch. I also just didn’t want to fall victim to the sedentary lifestyle that was all too common for desk job people like me.
Me and a couple boys from the office made a point to hit the gym together three times a week, give or take one depending on the demands or eases of life. Gym memberships were part of our benefits package, and we’d be damned if we didn’t take advantage of everything we could get from the bastards.
Dua gracefully worked my cock, it warm and wet from being inside her. She set a medium pace with a lot of thumb attention on my frenulum. It would take a bit, but she could make me cum like that. She liked to give me long, drawn out pleasure like this when she knew I was stressed.
“Rina knows what we want to talk about?” My breath was even, but my chest rose higher when she started to carefully play with my sensitive balls.
Dua shook her head, a mischievous smile on her face. “She has no idea what we’ll be talking about. Her reaction will be real and unrehearsed.”
This would be fun. The conversation we had earlier was the only rehearsal we had. I wanted most of this to come from our hearts. I was nervous about Rina spitting out her drink and laughing at the idea of Dua and I wanting a child.
My parents were far from model parents. When I met Dua, I was surviving. Nothing more than that. Trying to thrive but going to bed exhausted and wondering if it would all pay off, and when.
This gorgeous, smart, funny and interstellarly talented woman was the biggest burst of sunlight through a storm cloud. I want to say the biggest I could hope for. But Dua was beyond that. She was so much more than I could have asked for while telling myself I was still sane.
When Dua came into my life, when she became someone I wanted to hold onto, I found a new determination. I wanted to be someone worth holding onto.
My instinct for survival out of spite towards my father remained, but it turned into a smoldering sense of revenge; that I would someday be more than him. Now, my biggest drive to become someone more was because I wanted to be someone Dua could say she was proud of.
She was more than I was on paper. But she didn’t care about paper. It sounds clichéd, but when it came down to us, she saw soul and spirit, not red or black ink on a spreadsheet. She was willing to see me, and I was willing to see her. Not just her fame.
This woman was the only one I could see myself having a child with. She was the only one I would trust to bring out the good in me and help me fight the bad that made me terrified of being a father.
My father was good for something. He taught me what kind of a father not to be. That is a hell of a lesson, and one I would pour a coffee over his grave for some day.
“Bebe, are you okay?” Dua looked at me with wide, worried eyes. She flicked my cock. “You went soft right in my hand. What’s up?”
I cleared my throat. “This isn’t the time, but….” I shook my head. “I was thinking about my dad.” My voice was low and scratchy, like it didn’t want to come out. “If we have a kid, I don’t want them to meet. I don’t… I can’t handle my dad trying to give me parenting advice. The idea that I might ever be like….”
Dua rolled on top of me before I could react. She planted her lips to mine and kissed me. Her forehead rested on mine when she broke the kiss. “Stop thinking like that, Fynn. You are not your father. You’re a good man. And you’ll be a great father if that’s what we choose to do.”
I wrapped my arms around my wife and held her close. Her smooth skin on my palms, her silky hair against my cheek was real and grounding. A balm to my insecurities. If she believed I was a good man, then I was.
Dua wasn’t someone who settled.
—
After our steamy then heavy morning in bed, we got up and showered together. I was able to find my physical release with her under the hot water since my head had calmed down.
Dua stuck with her new rule; no cumming inside her until we had our answer. I wasn’t sure how long we’d keep that up, but not being able to breed my wife bred innovation.
That innovation looked like me fucking Dua’s ass cleavage with a body wash-lubed cock until I painted her famous backside.
Once we were done playing around, we got dressed and headed out for Rina’s. Her new place wasn’t terribly far away, and she knew we’d be coming. It was our silent hope that we’d raid a few snacks since we hadn’t made time for breakfast.
Luckily for us, our hopes were met with open arms. We had just gotten through pleasantries when Rina had told us her late breakfast was getting cold. Knowing we were coming, she had made a spinach, bacon, and egg quiche that Dua had taught her while we lived together.
Rina learning to cook was a big thing that I’m glad happened for her while she was with us. Everyone should know how to cook some basic dishes. It’s just independent survival.
Knowing how heavy our upcoming conversation was, we kept things light and conversational. Dua talked about some new projects in the works. We talked about a trip we wanted to take together soon when I had some availablePTO.
Keeping a big boy job meant I couldn’t just gallivant with my beautiful globe-trotting wife whenever I wanted. But anytime I had the available time, we were off, or I’d join Aria wherever she was for work.
We asked Rina how things were going with her boyfriend Jeremy. She happily informed us things were going well, that Jeremy was an absolute sweetheart, and apparently fantastic in bed. Attentive, caring, great at aftercare. Things her last relationships were missing.
“I’m so happy to hear things are coming together for you in that department, Rin.” Dua’s smile was genuine, the corners of her lips meeting the ends of her eyes. “You deserve someone whose good to you.”
“Enough about the little catch-ups now.” Rina waved her hand dismissively. “You two asked me for lunch, which makes me think something’s up.”
Dua dramatically dropped her jaw and turned to look at me like it was the biggest barb she’d ever received. “I-we get lunch more than when things are going on!”
Rina giggled and shook her head. “We get lunch quite often. It’s just usually me that brings it up.”
“Fair point.” Dua’s shoulders slumped in her small defeat. “We do have something we want to discuss. It’s not set in stone yet, but… we think we’re hedging towards it.”
Rina remained perfectly still, eyes wide and darting back and forth between us.
“We think we’re at a place in our lives-that it, we think it might be time to….”
Rina cut her off. “You two are moving to Albania?”
“What? No!” Dua’s face was the image of what the fuck. “I love Albania. I need to visit again soon, but that would make no sense right now. No, we’re thinking about having a babe.”
There it was. Out in the open now for Dua’s sister, one of the most important people in her life. Nothing got Dua to just drop news like trying to guess what she was going to do or say.
Rina sat there. Completely frozen. Not even blinking. It was getting kind of creepy until her smile nearly split her face and she squealed.
“Oh. My. GOD! I’m going to be an aunt! Dua, you’re going to be the world’s coolest mom. And Fynn! You! You’re going to be such a good dad.”
Dua and I didn’t know what to say. We were stunned by Rina’s immediate jubilation. And she kept going.
“You two are so sweet and loving. Anybody that really knows you two sees how deeply and hopelessly in love you are with each other. Separately, you’re fun and your own people and stuff. But together? You both shine brighter. The way you look at each other makes me want to fucking vomit sometimes. That didn’t change even when we were all fucking.”
Dua blinked and shook her head briefly. She held up a hand. “Hang on a second. You’re not going to ask us why we want a child? You’re not going to tell us not to, or ask ‘what about your career?’ This just makes sense to you?”
Rina’s giddy smile dropped and was replaced by a deep, stinging hurt. Tears even touched the corners of her eyes. “Motra, did you really think I could be anything but over the moon for you and Fynn?”
Dua tried to blink away tears, but she had to wipe them away. “I’m sorry. I just… we thought that… we don’t completely know yet ourselves if a baby is right. We have concerns and doubts.”
I jumped in, not wanting to leave this crushing pressure on Dua. “We hoped talking to you about it, laying out our wants and fears to another party–someone we love and trust–would help.”
Rina took a second to recompose. A whiplash of feelings played tug-of-war behind her eyes. “Okay. I can understand that.” She let out a breath of air. “I’m not retracting what I said.”
Dua grabbed my hand and I squeezed hers. “You think me and Fynn could be good prindërit [parents]?”
Rina nodded, biting her bottom lip. “Of course I do, motra.” She reached out and took one of my hands, one of Dua’s. The three of us connected. “You two will be fantastic parents. I know it. I know your hearts. I’ll help you. Your mami dhe babi [mom and dad] will be there.”
I turned my head, hearing about the support Dua’s family would offer. We’d have to rely on Aria’s family to be our support network. My family wouldn’t be on my call list.
Dua and Rina both caught the dissociative look in my eyes. They squeezed my hands tighter, like our hearts were sharing one rhythm. A shared pain. Maybe something like that had formed between the three of us during our time and intimacy together?
“Hey.” Dua’s voice pulled me back. “Fynn. It’s okay.” Her chin trembled as she let go of my hand and cupped my cheek. “It’s okay. We don’t need them. And you are not alone. It’s not my family or your family. We’re married, Fynn. We are one family. My family is your family.”
I tried to stop it. I don’t know why. But I couldn’t. I cried. Quiet, hot tears on my face. Crying wasn’t something I did often. It just wasn’t.
Of course I had feelings. I had emotions, and I felt them strongly. Dua’s mom often said I was an incredibly sensitive man. But it was hard for me to cry. Having a narcissistic father that wanted me to be a tough, manly man—especially one that only felt what he wanted me to feel–didn’t give me a healthy look on family or the act of crying.
While I psycho-analyzed myself, I wasn’t aware of Dua and Rina moving, coming closer and then wrapping their arms around me in a group hug.
Dua kissed my head while Rina rubbed my back. It felt weird to be the center of a hug like this. We supported Rina just like this not so long ago.
But shit, I felt loved and respected. I wasn’t kicked. I wasn’t bullied. These beautiful, successful women weren’t telling me men don’t cry. They weren’t telling me that I was weak. They held me and said I was okay. And I didn’t feel like less of a man for this.
The tears stopped after a bit and I felt like I could breathe again. “I’m okay. Sorry. That was weird.” I tried to laugh it off.
The Albanian duo didn’t let me. They kept holding me.
“Don’t apologize, Fynn. It’s not weird. It’s okay,” Dua told me softly. “I love you. You take care of me. You hold me when I break. I’ll hold you when you need to let go. We will hold our child when they get bullied, when they scrape their knees. Whether we have a beautiful boy or girl, we’ll hold them and show them it’s okay.”
Rina sniffled as she let go of me and Dua. “Oh my God, you two. Please have a kid. I need to see it now. I want to be the cool aunt so bad.”
Dua didn’t let go of me when Rina did. She kept holding me, and I squeezed her so hard I thought her ribs would break. “I do want to raise a kid with you, Dua. I want to bring a soul into this world. And I want to be there for them. Our whole lives. We’ll make it work. We’ll make your career work. You’re not the first famous person to have a kid. But we’ll find a way to make sure you keep your dream, and to make sure our child knows their mother, and loves her deeply.”
I felt my wife’s breath catch and then release against my neck, leaving goosebumps. We hit the big triggers for each of us. Our biggest fears. I was afraid of being like my father. Dua feared not being able to be Dua Lipa and a devoted mother.
“Can we really do this, Fynn? It’s such a big decision. The biggest we can make. I don’t want to try just to discover we can’t.”
I placed my hand on Dua’s head, keeping her close as I kissed her hair. “I think we can. And we’re not alone. You—we have a strong and beautiful family. We won’t be doing this alone.”
A sharp squeal pierced the air next to us, followed by a loud clap. “Oh my God! You two are going to have a baby! Right? Right?”
Aria and I released each other from our death grip hug, but we stayed joined at the hands. Our eyes locked, reading each other. We searched for any deception to ourselves or to each other. If I had any feeling the words out of her mouth were going to be for me and not her, for us, I was ready to shut the project down.
The staring contest lasted longer than I expected. I felt dizzy from nerves. I hadn’t felt like this since we exchanged vows. Since we said “I do.” It’s how I knew this was real. Neither of us could speak for the other. Like our vows, like our marriage commitment, each of us had to say it separately. No we.
“I want to do it.”
“I want to do it.”
We had both said our vows with Rina as our witness. The next announcement would be ‘We’re pregnant.’
—
The drive home from Rina’s was silent. Like we had come from a funeral. Like we had laid someone to rest and hadn’t just agreed to bring someone into the world. Somehow, the weights felt similar. Something something, one door closes another door opens. But it’s the same door, and not one to be opened or closed lightly.
“You okay?” Dua took my hand after I put the car in park.
“Yeah.” I didn’t convince myself with that, either. “It just feels like a surreal decision. Words I never thought I’d say.”
I popped my door open and Dua was out at the same time. She could tell I was shaky. I knew she could. “I’m not taking my words back. ‘I want to try’ just felt like the biggest words I’ve said since ‘I do.’ Since I asked ‘will you marry me?’”
Dua stayed quiet as she came around the front of my Volkswagen. She took my hand and led me inside our stately house. The house we had agreed to open to a new life. There would be someone here with us for at least the next eighteen years.
The weight of that was astronomical. But as I tried to picture it, it wasn’t crushing. It was warm. Hugging.
Dua’s slender arms wrapped around my belly from behind. Her face pressed against my back. “I love you. So much.”
I turned in her arms and kissed her hair. “I love you, too. I promise I want to do this. I want all of this with you.”
Dua tilted her head up to look at me, her warm brown eyes on mine, then my lips. “Fynn, I want you to put a baby in me. Start trying. Now.”
Our lips collided, hot, and wet right there in our kitchen. She tore my shirt open with a hunger that sent little round buttons flying. Momma Bear wanted a cub.
I reached behind Dua’s back and undid the zipper, dragging it down to her tailbone. She wiggled out of the straps before I could pull them down.
My gorgeous wife shamelessly stood in our kitchen with her casual dress around her ankles, nothing but black panties between her and my eyes.
“Are you going to carry me to bed, or are we going to spend our lives knowing we conceived Peanut on a countertop?”
I had never moved faster than I did then, scooping Dua into my arms as she held on for dear life with a full-bodied laugh.
I bounded through the house, one of the world’s most coveted women in my arms. An international sex symbol about to carry the product of our love.
Bursting through the door with Dua still laughing, I tossed her on the bed, making her bounce before settling back down.
I went to crawl on top of her, but she stuck her foot up, painted toenails catching the underside of my chin. “Not so fast. Use the under-the-bed restraints. Tie me down and own me when you fuck our baby into me.”
I smirked as I dramatically pushed off the bed. “These restraints?” I held up a black tether that connected to a metal O-ring under our king-sized mattress. There were three more tethers just like it.
“Those restraints.” Dua licked her lips as she brazenly rubbed her pussy over her thin black panties. “God, I’m so fucking wet for my husband right now.”
I swallowed as I watched the love of my life arch her back, rubbing around her clit. I grabbed her calves and pulled her closer to the center of the bed before wrapping the supple black leather around her ankle.
“Lock me down tight and don’t release me until you’ve released in me.”
I shook my head and chuckled. She was the queen of dirty word play. I fucking loved it.
Her second ankle was cuffed, and I moved to the side of the bed to do her wrist.
“Do I get to be blindfolded?” She might have asked it like a question, but the tone made it clear it was a request.
“The lady gets what the lady wants,” I assured her as I crawled right over her to get the last tether and strap it around her wrist. She was fully spread-eagle for me, her panties still in place.
My next stop was the nightstand that held a lot of our naughty things. I slid it open and scanned through the second and deeper drawer. Lubes, toys, leather handcuffs, condoms for ass play. The usual. The sleep mask we used as a comfortable blindfold was at the bottom of it all.
Dua looked so content just lying there in damp black panties, tied down for me. The trust alone she had in me made my heart melt. Letting yourself be completely tied down and blindfolded for another person was no small feat. We’d done it many times before, but it was a trust I never took for granted.
The blindfold went on, and Dua had the most delicious little shudder, a smile telling me she was so down for this. I loved this game as much as she did. She loved the mystery of how I was going to make her feel good, and I loved that she trusted me to do it. I loved choosing just how to make her lose her mind.
And knowing that at the end of this, our goal was to go for the gold this time? Knowing that after I untied Dua and we showered, that she wasn’t going to take a birth control pill? It unlocked something ancient and feral in me.
I wanted to breed her, own her and devour her. The entire world would have undeniable proof that Dua Lipa was mine.
But there was a second side to this coin. She was my wife. My life. The woman who agreed to not only love me, but to raise and cherish the child we were going to have together. I wanted to adore and worship her. These hot and cold feelings were tearing my confused libido apart.
“Fynn? Are you okay, bebe?”
I shook my head, clearing out the war. I could think about that during post-coital cuddles. At that moment, my job was making my wife cum until she begged me to fuck her.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Just being indecisive.” It wasn’t a lie.
After making my final choice, I returned to the bed with two lubes and our favorite toy, a Princess vibrator.
“I’m still wearing panties. What’s your plan for that, hm?”
My wife was so cheeky. Always so clever. I also knew her well enough to know that it was a coded question. She wanted something new. Something different. Dua didn’t want me to simply unstrap a leg and take her panties off. Yawn.
“That’s a problem for a bit later.” I knelt on the bed by Dua’s hips. Her toned, bronzed body was fully open to me. I lovingly rubbed her inner thigh with one hand, the other caressed the hard-kept muscle of her arm.
“Fynn, please. Don’t tease me with the little stuff too much. I need more. I need release.”
“Okay.” As much as I wanted to dissect Dua’s every nerve ending, I respected her request. But she asked to be blindfolded, so some teasing was in order.
I picked up the lithe and comfortable Princess vibrator and pressed it to Dua’s panties. I didn’t turn it on until it was already making contact.
It buzzed to life, and Dua’s back arched. She pulled tight on the restraints as I pressed the sleek but firm silicone, fake cock head to her covered pussy.
“Yes! Fuck me with the vibe before you do it proper.” Dua was already excited when I put the blindfold on. Her need and the introduction of the Princess let me watch the damp patch on her panties grow before my eyes.
“I’m going to have this pussy so fucking ready and dripping for me before I finally give you my cock.”
“Put it in my mouth, though. I want to suck your dick while you get me soaked.” Even tied down and blindfolded, Dua knew she could ask for what she wanted. And how could I say no with a demand like that?
“Hang tight.” I took the vibrator off her long enough to undo my pants. I knew that if I angled just right, she’d be able to take me in her mouth while I still used the vibe on her.
“My mouth is watering, Fynn. I want to drool over your perfect cock so bad. You’re mine, and I need to claim that thick prick. Please.” Dua licked her lips and humped the cloud-blue vibrator as I moved further up the bed.
With an outstretched arm and a slight lean to the right, I was still able to give Dua attention where she needed. With my ass resting on my calves, it also had me at the perfect position to lay my cock on her lips.
She hummed happily at the warmth, the weight on her. Her lips parted slightly, and her tongue slipped out to lick the central vein on the bottom of my length. When she opened her mouth wider and let it wrap around me, I knew what she wanted.
I rubbed the vibe faster over the length of her slit, pressed harder, and I started to thrust my hips, sliding my cock back and forth over her tongue, between her lips. It was obscene, hot, and a little messy.
The way we used her mouth kept her from being able to control her saliva, and soon it was running at the corners of her mouth. My wife was rich, refined, and a perfect socialite. But also, my personal whore. And we loved it. I didn’tstop until she was a properly slobbery mess.
Dua finally turned her head to the side and opened wide, her tongue out and welcoming. She took my cock into her mouth so easily, and didn’t let her lips seal around it until half of it was in. Her head began to move back and forth.
I kept the buzzing head of the Princess against her hidden clit, and watched her hips roll, wishing she had something in her cunt. She didn’t need my help up top. My cock was in perfectly capable lips, so I risked using both hands.
It was time for me to answer her question from earlier about her panties. Taking them off was boring. Instead, I put the vibrator down and dug my fingers into the drenched gusset. I pulled and they tore.
Dua tried to gasp but it came out watery and strangled around my dick. Her hips raised higher, telling me she would not patiently wait for payment for me ruining her panties.
She didn’t have to be patient because I plunged the cotton candy-blue cock into her and used my own rough-padded thumb to circle her clit.
Dua moaned around my cock and tried to keep sucking it. Her ability to focus was fading as I moved the toy in and out. My thumb getting closer and closer to her clit without touching it was driving her towards the edge of madness. Her tongue still moved, and her natural breathing added some stimulation, but her ability to suck me on her own was vanishing.
Keeping my own focus on her pleasure, I absentmindedly moved my hips to use her mouth, but I was focused on her. Her moans and muffled cries as she humped my hand and the toy were more than enough to keep me hard.
I pulled out of her mouth completely, letting her gasp for air. She kept her tongue out as thick spit ran down her chin and onto the pillow under her head. My perfect, dirty angel.
She was soaked, gripping the Princess and creaming around it. Dua was more than ready, and my cock was dark, twitching.
I kept the little Princess moving inside her, watching it slide in and out, glistening with her wetness. Dua didn’t try to speak as I repositioned myself to kneel between her stretched legs.
“Ready, my queen?” I knew she was. Her frantic nod confirmed it, but I had just two more things I wanted to do to her before I finished it, before we threw out the birth control.
I looked at the tube of water-based lube I had left on the side of the bed. But seeing the shining coat of Dua’s personal lube already on it made me decide I didn’t need it. I slipped it out of her, making her jolt at the loss.
“Yes! I need your real cock now. Please! I can’t take it anymore. I really just want your warmth!”
“I know baby, I know. Very soon.” The rounded, soft head of the toy teased her perineum, but the angle she was at wouldn’t let me see the way her asshole was clenching. I didn’t need to see it to know it was doing that.
“F-Fynn!” Dua sucked in a sharp breath as I pressed the head of the toy to her tight asshole. “Yes! Fuck my ass and eat my pussy. Please. I want it. I want it so bad!”
I pressed the toy in past the tense ring and dropped my face between her legs, tongue out. The toy buzzed and shook inside my wife’s ass, and I could feel it through that thin barrier of skin as I plunged my tongue into her.
“This asshole, this pussy. They’re mine.” I spat on her clit and rubbed it around with my thumb. “I want you to cum all over my face. Wet and sloppy. And then I want you lick it off while I fuck our child into you.”
“Yes!” Dua screamed out. She rode my tongue, the toy in her ass. She was bucking madly, and I just had to hold my face there, tongue out, as she got her pleasure from it. “I am so yours, Fynn! I’m fucking yours!”
I watched my wife with a devoted, obsessive heat as she gushed around my tongue. It was warm, slick, and copious. She was fucking delicious, and I ran my tongue in circles around her opening to collect all I could.
Getting back onto my knees, I left my mouth shiny with her taste. I kept the toy buzzing in her ass with one hand as I used my free hand to line the tip of my cock with her leaking hole.
“Fynn. No more stops. No more distractions. I need your cock in my pussy right now. I’ll kill you if you try anything else. Please, just—FUCK!”
Any ability to speak was erased by my swollen head sliding into her teased and ready heat. Her arms pulled against the restraints, her head tilted as far back as the thick pillow would allow. The perfect image of ecstatic bliss. The perfect image of fucking mine.
I didn’t fuck her hard. I didn’t take her ravenously or with a deranged brutality. No. I knew she was my wife. I knew that I had our entire lives for me to love her and worship her, to bring her pleasure until tears ran from her eyes. She was probably crying right now under the sleep mask.
The slow, torturous pace I used to slide in and out of her tight, gripping cunt was a hell of a contrast to the manically buzzing toy still buried in her ass. That thin, inner barrier of skin was the only thing keeping my cock from the vibrator, which meant I could feel it strongly against my own shaft.
When I pulled most of the way out and slid back in, the vibration would work across my length, on my sensitive frenulum and cock head. What was supposed to be a solo-masturbatory toy had been turned into a couples’ pleasure item, and it was doing a fantastic job.
“Oh! My God!” Dua was sweating, her abs tight as her body coiled closer and closer to her orgasm. “You. The toy. I feel like you’re fucking me twice at the same time.” She tried to giggle, but it mixed with a deep, pleasurable groan.
I heard every word she said, but I couldn’t get my mind to focus on a response in that moment. I was so focused on keeping my slow, punishing speed and angling the toy to feel good for both of us. Every sound she made—not just words—was a road map about what felt good for her, what wasn’t or what could feel better.
Sometimes I was a vocal lover, talking to her through it or communicating about how much I loved her. But with a technique like this, I wanted to be careful and attentive.
At this pace, I could feel the way she gripped me on my way out, the way she relaxed when I moved deeper in. The heat, the wetness made me worry about going blind. Her arousal was leaking down and coating the toy, keeping her ass good and wet as it moved in and out in opposition to my cock thrusts.
“Fynn! Oh my God!” Dua gritted her teeth, convulsing. Her cunt squeezed me so tight I had no doubt she was cumming again. “Please finish soon. I’m over-stimming,” she warned, licking her lips.
I slid the toy out, making her moan as I did. With the toy gone, I laid down on my wife, covering her body with mine. I wrapped my arms under her back, my hands coming to grip her shoulders.
“Yes! Breed me, Fynn. Cum deep inside me. Plug it inside. Don’t let it out,” Dua begged as I fucked her with deep, steady strokes. “I want you to watch when I put my birth control in the garbage.”
I growled in Dua’s ear and bit her neck as I fucked her deep, letting the base of my cock rub against her clit. This was going to feel good for her every bit of the way, damn it.
“Dua, I’m so close,” I said, nuzzling her cheek with my sweaty forehead. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. I’m ready. Please fill me. I want to feel your hot cum take hold in me. I want to–”
Whatever dirty, loving thing she was going to say next was replaced with another gasp as I grunted and spilled inside of her.
My hips lost total control for the first time as I came. I kept humping her, pushing my seed inside, hoping for the first time that it would take hold. That my wife would miss her next period.
When my balls were finally, fully empty, my cum deep inside her, I went limp, covering her body with mine.
Dua kissed my head over and over as we tried to catch our breath together in a big, sweaty pile of body and limbs. At first, it felt hot to have her in just torn panties while I was still mostly dressed. Now, I couldn’t get out of my clothes fast enough, needing skin-to-skin contact.
My cock was still in her, twitching softly as she kept flexing her tight walls around me. I tried to stay nestled in her as I started to shed my ripped-open shirt and undone pants.
“I-I think you’re empty.” She giggled. “I think we got all of that one.”
I laughed and slowly got up into a push-up position and pulled my hips back. My spent, messy dick slipped out of her, and she made a satisfied little hum. I undid her wrists, and then her ankles.
Dua laid there, blissed out and glowing. She made grabby hands, demanding cuddles I desperately wanted, too. Not a single care about the messy mix of fluids between her legs. “The fun part’s over. Now we wait and see.”