“Is she prettier than me?”
No relationship can survive that question. And he was stopped in his tracks when she said it.
He tried not to look away. He made it for a second and then had to turn away. That was difficult as she was sitting on top of him, his cock in her cunt, her face inches away from his as her hands held his wrists above his head.
He closed his eyes and gasped out, “How can you ask me that?”
“Because you slept with her.” Her hips moved and he gritted his teeth against the need to call out. “When you said you were going to go help her with her shelving, I didn’t know it was her built in shelf.”
Even pinned and being fucked, he couldn’t hold back the laugh. “Honey! We negotiated about her.” He moved his head and opened his eyes to see hers squinting at him.
She moved and pushed up so she was sitting upright on him. “And she is younger than I am and she is in better condition...” Her butt ground into him, making his balls twitch under her weight. “She is prettier than me.”
He tried to move his hands so he could hold her. Her fingernails went into his skin, into his ribs and he gasped. “No fair!”
He did not like the sneer on her face. “I am never fair. You know that.” She leaned back and his cock slapped his stomach as she stood on the bed.
“Sweetie! Damnit! I told you because you told me I had to.”
She walked over to her phone on the desk and typed in a text, glaring at him as she hit ‘send’. She put down the phone and crossed her arms, just looking at him laying in the bunched bedding. A small smile flashed across her lips as an unfamiliar phone rung in the next room.
He blinked. She had set him up. They were now both standing there, looking at him, smiles hiding none of the wickedness in them.
“So, you never answered. Is she prettier than me?”
“Oh, fuck.”