Chris
The first week in Phoenix, we settle into an easy schedule. I’m up early, we have breakfast together, then I head to the park to practice in preparation for the spring training games. Amelia spends time in the pool during the day, she loves it. She believes it helps strengthen her leg. I love watching her swim naked, her confidence growing every day.
When we start playing she comes out to watch, sitting with the other wives and girlfriends who come out. She fits in easily with them, her relief palpable when she tells me everyone is nice to her.
She takes to cooking dinner, sneaking in pasta some nights then challenging me to work it out on her body. I’m not sure if it’s the sun or the warm weather, but she’s happier than she’s ever been. She glows like the sun, so bright sometimes my eyes hurt staring at her. The cameras take note as they follow us around.
The day before Travis and Regina come to stay, I’m in the car on the way to practice when I get a call. It’s the Baltimore number again. I send it to voice mail, and again whoever it is doesn’t leave one. When I get to the park I look up the number but find nothing. Giving in to curiosity, I call the number.
With the very first ring it goes to voice mail. Whoever it is didn’t record an outgoing message either, it’s a robot voice giving the number. I can’t shake off the feeling this isn’t good. Only I don’t know what to do about it. The next time the person calls, I’ll pick up. Except they call two hours later when I’m on the field and my phone is in my locker. No message.
I’m already on edge when Travis and Regina come to stay for a long weekend, and I get even crankier when Amelia has to buy a swimsuit. They love her within minutes. Amelia and Travis talk law. Regina talks about when I was younger, and Amelia hangs on every word. Regina also instigates our first argument.
I’m exhausted, there were more errors in the game than there should have been. I was bummed not to have Amelia in the stands, but she’d stayed outside for too long and gotten heat sick. Another thing I wasn’t happy over, she needed to take better care of herself.
Then I walk in the door to find Amelia’s hair six inches shorter than when I left. I don’t say a word when Regina asks me if I like it. I just go into our bedroom and slam the door. I throw myself on the bed, working to control my frustration.
Amelia creeps into the room. “You hate it.”
I shake my head. “I just don’t like it as much as I liked it longer. I can’t believe you cut it without talking to me. You know how much I love your hair.”
“That’s why I did it. I knew you’d talk me out of it. Don’t be mad. It was so hard to take care of, no more half hour of flat ironing. It was also really heavy, and it gave me headaches sometimes. It’s still long.”
She climbs on the bed, timidly. I’m a fucker. She was right, I would have tried to talk her out of it. With all the reasons she gave it would have been wrong for me to. I remember her talking about the headaches as I brushed her hair out some nights, loving the feel of the silk in my hands. I had no right to keep her from doing what was best for her, as long as it didn’t hurt her. I look up at her as she bends down over me. It is still long, brushing her shoulders, I reach out to grasp a handful.
Her eyes go wide, her pupils dilate, she loves it when I get rough. I love being able to be rough. My other hand goes over her neck. She’s lost weight, though I know she isn’t trying. Between swimming every day and the better eating, it’s happened naturally.
Grasping the front of the sundress she is wearing, I give a hard tug and it tears easily, leaving her bare, she isn’t wearing a bra. She moans as my hand goes down from her neck to cup a precious tit. I love her tits, fuck, they are so responsive. I’m only not bitching about her weight because her breasts haven’t changed. Actually, that’s bullshit, I’m not bitching because I love Amelia in any form she takes. I know she’s gone down at least another size, but it doesn’t matter. She still has curves, thank fuck, and she’s happy with her body, that’s the only thing that matters.
I pull her down to me, using her hair to guide her. Fucking her mouth until she’s moaning, I smile when I see she’s dazed. “You know, it was very naughty of me to cut my hair knowing you weren’t going to like it. I think I deserve a spanking. I’m sure the problem is it’s been weeks since you last spanked me.”
“Hmm...I think you’re right. You cut off what? Six inches.” She nods. “So six swats.”
Biting her lip, she sighs. “I think it’s best to make sure I’ve learned my lesson. Two times for each inch would help me remember.”
“Twelve it is, bad girl.” I flip her over then yank her down to the edge of the bed, with her ass hanging down. Tearing off her panties, I love the way her ass quivers in anticipation. I know she’s already clenching her pussy deep inside. “Count them off.”
***
Amelia
Oh thank god, he’s not mad at me. Both Regina and I knew he wouldn’t be happy with the haircut. I knew how much he loved my hair, when we laid together he usually had a hand in it. He’s brushed it often, his pleasure clear. I also remember him giving Regina an angry look the time she suggested cutting it the first day they arrived, when I complained about the heat.
I love Regina; she’s nice, funny, and it’s clear she loves and cares about Chris. On only her second day in Phoenix, she sat me down and told me about the horrible two women in Chris’s life who had been dumb enough to turn him down. I think about us out by the pool while Chris and Travis prepped the ribs to go on the grill.
“You love him.” It’s not a question.
“I do.” I don’t blush, don’t hesitate, as I stare at him through the glass door.
“He loves you too. You wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.”
I blink, damn it. I wipe the tears away. I’d hoped, between the kitchen remodel and what he said when he gave me the tickets, I’d hoped really hard. “It’s early days. He could come to his senses.”
“Don’t even go there. He would be lucky to have you. He knows that. Chris doesn’t fall for just anyone. You impress my husband, and Travis isn’t easy to impress. You have Chris wrapped around your finger and you don’t even know it.” I do? He did give in easily to the joke paint color of pink before I showed him the real color. She laughs. “If you walked in there right now and said you wanted something, he’d move mountains to make it happen. I’m glad you recognize you’re lucky too.
“You just have to be patient. You might also need to be the one to propose when the time comes. He’ll kill me if he finds out I’m telling you this, but I think it’s important for you to know why he’s going to be gun-shy about sealing the deal. He’s already asked two women to marry him, and they turned him down. They told him they wanted more than just a bad boy, that what they had was just for fun. It’s why he stuck to strippers and no strings. He needs to know you want him for more than his reputation, for the real him.”
I was in shock. One, that any woman was stupid enough to turn him down, and two, that Chris could be vulnerable. It’s not just his immense size, it’s how he never seems to get emotional about anything except how much he loves my body during sex. I’m reminded of his bitterness the day he accused me of taking from him without giving back, of using him because of his bad boy image. I wasn’t the only who got banged up in relationships; I’m glad Regina made sure I knew that.