It's a Wonderful Wife Ch 3

Admitting defeat has never come easily to Riley. When she was young and in the closet, terrified of judgment about her penis, she watched so many girls she liked being with other people. As an athlete, even an exceptionally talented and diligent one, her win rate is still only slightly over fifty percent. That’s the nature of sports. At FUTA, she watched Adella—the human one—go into a room at the Lodge with two French soccer players and an Italian coach, and close the door behind her. Although Riley has no regrets about how things played out back then, incidents of that sort always made her feel deeply inadequate.

Inadequacy, she’s used to. She handles it better these days because she has begun to realize that it isn’t always rational.

Disappointing her wife, though—that’s something else.

As much as the warmth of the house calls to her, she finds herself dragging her feet as she climbs up to the porch, teeth chattering. Going out and wandering around can’t even be called a plan, let alone a good plan. She has to call Ingrid. Ingrid will rush home if she isn’t back already. She’ll want to get out there and search, and that’s what they’ll be doing all night until Adella turns up. Riley needs hot cup of coffee and to at least bundle up or something. That’s the best her brain can do in its half-frozen state.

The light is on in the garage. Ingrid’s home. Riley doesn’t even like seeing Ingrid in mild distress. This will not be mild. She braces herself and hauls the door open.

Ingrid stands in the kitchen wearing her old Blue Team hoodie with her number 17 on it and jeans. Her golden hair is a little wild under her red beanie. She holds Adella’s leash, and the fawn-colored pit bull pants contentedly. Her massive tongue hangs out as she stares at Riley adoringly.

“What the shit?” Riley says faintly, shutting the door behind her and feebly stomping her sneakers to get some snow off.

Ingrid takes in the blue, the shivering, the chattering, and the light jacket with a glance. “Riley? Are you OK?” She hurries over to help her get the jacket.

“I’m good. Where was she?” Riley asks.

“I took her to the emergency vet. She got to the tree. I thought she might have eaten an ornament,” Ingrid replies sensibly. “You’re cold.”

So, Ingrid got home early and then went out again. Riley processes that as she’s led upstairs to their bathroom.

“What were you doing?” Ingrid asks as she takes Riley’s clothes off.

“Looking for Delly. I thought she was out.”

Ingrid stops for a moment and stares at her. Then she licks her lips and keeps going without saying anything.

Leaving her phone behind was a big blunder. It won’t make Riley’s top ten, but it comes close. When she looks at it, she will find a text from Ingrid that she must have just missed.

It’s only after Ingrid has put her in the bathtub that Riley reflects that while Adella could probably get a door open, it doesn’t seem completely plausible that she would close it behind her. Indeed, the scene that she walked in on was much more consistent with Ingrid leaving in a hurry than with a jailbreak. Feeling stupid and embarrassed about what she did lessens the immense pleasure of being in a hot bath, but relief that Ingrid is fine and not upset trumps everything.

Ingrid finishes undressing and pushes lightly on Riley’s back. Riley obligingly makes room, and Ingrid gets situated behind her in the bathtub. Riley sighs and leans back into softness and warmth that she needs to make a note of for next time she’s masochistically fantasizing while wandering around in the cold.

Ingrid wraps her arms around her.

Riley always liked to be the one in the back in this situation for a long list of reasons, but that is no longer allowed. On one evening when the inevitable happened and Riley found herself doing it from behind in the bath, things got a little too exciting, and her hair straightener almost got knocked into the water and killed them.

It’s still nice, although there’s a little something extra in the way that Ingrid runs the soapy sponge over Riley’s body today.

“Thank you for looking for her,” Ingrid says after a while.

Riley snorts. “Me being a moron is a turn-on for you?”

“I think you’re sweet.”

Ingrid likes sex as much as anyone, but two things really get her horned up. Talking about having kids, and Riley being thoughtful. Or at least her believing that Riley is being thoughtful. Today, Riley acted not out of thoughtfulness, but panic. But Ingrid likes it, and Riley will take it.

“I’m super sweet,” Riley says with a yawn, enjoying Ingrid’s touch.

She sighs gently when Ingrid puts the sponge in her left hand and reaches her right into the water.

“Mmm.” Riley nestles back and closes her eyes as Ingrid gently squeezes and tugs her cock. She’s all warmed up now. Her body and mind aren’t in the right place for, say, vigorous sex, but it still takes her all of two seconds to get hard. “Oh. OK.” It almost comes out in a purr as Ingrid strokes her slowly and kisses her neck. Her fat nipples get harder, and her boobs squish tighter against Riley’s back as Ingrid starts feeling the spirit of things. When Riley gets into it, she goes fast. When Ingrid gets into it, she just becomes more deliberate and intense.

Riley lets out a little moan, gently rubbing Ingrid’s legs under the water.

Downstairs, Adella barks.

Riley snorts and rolls her eyes. “Fuck me.”

Ingrid knows that’s a turn-off, so she doubles down. She lets go of the sponge and grabs Riley’s breast. It must be a special occasion, because while Ingrid gets very serious about a penis, she isn’t drawn to breasts the way that Riley is. She keeps the handjob going and gropes, stepping up the kisses on Riley’s face and neck.

Riley laughs, then gasps when Ingrid does something very unusual: she pinches Riley’s nipple. Not hard, but still. Ingrid’s very spicy tonight. Laughter becomes a cry, and then things quiet down. Riley’s breathing gets harder, and Ingrid sounds a little husky herself. She’s turned on, but selflessly, she stays laser-focused on Riley’s pleasure.

“Mmm.” Riley smiles and grunts softly. Her legs shake and splash bubbles, and she lets out what feels like gallons of cum into the bathwater. “Oh.” She lets out a long breath and goes limp in Ingrid’s arms.

Ingrid hugs, caresses, and kisses. Riley tries not to fall asleep.

“That is your Christmas present,” Ingrid jokes.

“I’ll take it.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Phew.” Riley pushes wet bangs out of her face. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

[ The End! Merry Christmas, everyone. I hope you all have a good holiday. I'll try to post a daily tomorrow if I can, but it's not a high priority and I'm sure everyone has plans anyway. We'll get back to normal and new SSS/BAE after Jan 1. Be safe!! ]