Another interesting turn of events is Dustin.
Surprisingly, the influencer/client dumped him when she found someone new. Probably someone with better, designer drugs, but either way, she left him a party, drug-addicted heap.
He came to Beau, desperate, asking for help. I didn’t know it at the time because I was pregnant with Jack. Beau kept it from me, and I don’t at all hold that against him. I’m glad he didn’t tell me because I don’t think I would’ve responded with my heart the way Beau did.
After sending Dustin to a rehab facility, he hired and paid a small legal team to run his office while he was away. When Dustin came back, Beau paid to keep the team running Reid Law so that he could get used to sobriety without the pressures of running a business. Six months later, Dustin had completely turned his life around and still had his business. All of it thanks to my husband.
Now Dustin is three years clean and has been coming to Jett’s birthday parties since. Jett knows him just as Dustin, and for now, it works great. Dustin has no drive to become a father, but Beau has convinced him to come once a year so that he knows he has a family.
I can’t believe my husband, kids, and I are my ex-husband’s family, but I’m okay with it. Because Dustin and I weren’t meant to be. Clearly. And my husband helped him find health and sobriety, and even though I wouldn’t call the two of them friends, they’re close enough that Dustin can come over once or twice a year and everything feels as it should. Comfortable, normal, and healthy.
Dustin has apologized to me countless times for how things went down but I don’t need those apologies anymore. As hard as it was to go through, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because it all led me to this life, this perfect, sweet, hot, full life where I own two businesses, and my husband owns an entire company. I have little hearts and minds to raise and love, and the man of my dreams.
I would let Dustin leave me with a positive pregnancy test in one hand and walking papers in the other time and time again. Because it all led here.
Once we’re home, I relax on the couch as Beau takes care of the boys. But after the nighttime routine is done, my hunger has evolved. When he flops back onto the couch with a sigh, freshly showered and in basketball shorts, I do the most eloquent slide off the couch as a massive pregnant woman can.
His large hand sifts through my hair, gently pushing it from my face. “You wanna suck my cock tonight, baby?” his question rumbles through me as my nipples harden. With his hair damp, and the lights low, I can’t wait another moment to taste him.
Lifting up for me, I slide his shorts down to his ankles and find my mouth watering to discover his cock already partially hard.
“Yes,” I pant, bringing his hot length to my lips. “I want you so bad.”
“Mmm,” he groans as my mouth captures his head, slick and salty. Tenderly he holds my face, strokes my hair off my cheeks, and touches my shoulders as I bob up and down on his growing cock. Within a minute, he’s like a rock in the back of my throat, hips lifting off the couch to get more of me.
“Fuck, baby, you suck me so good. I’ve been dreaming about unloading into one of your tight little holes all day.”
His words spur me on, and I suck him deep, over and over, until my eyes water and his fingers grip my head tightly.
With a slurp, I pop off his dick and grip it, pumping as I say, “come for me,daddy.”
Nursing isn’t the only kink we’ve dabbled in. One night while riding him, I called him daddy off-handedly, and he came rockets in response. Now, I sprinkle it in when I really want to rev him up.
Cum pools on my tongue as I bob back down on him, his forceful hand driving into my head, causing wetness to gush from between my legs.
Holding me down, his hips stop thrusting. My tongue curls around his length as the first salty rope coats the back of my throat. His groans hit me straight in the pussy, making me tingle and clench as I listen to him love the way I suck and drink him down.
When he’s nothing but twitches and bliss, I help slide his shorts back up and curl into him on the couch. After a fourteen-hour day, he’s exhausted. Head back, eyes closed, and a smile on his lips, he rests his hand on my belly. Rubbing it gently, he says, “I’m tired, but I still want you to ride my fingers and get off.” He straightens his spine and drops a hand to his lap, sticking two fingers in the air.
“Hop on, mama.”
I smile. “I’m so glad my air conditioner broke four years ago.”
He winks. “Me, too.”