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As I make my way around the large marble island separating the kitchen from the great room, I take in the glorious sight of my wife in front of the stove. I assume she’s making spaghetti and meatballs from the rich aroma of tomatoes and spices. It’s the kids’ favorite. Katarina’s wearing a tank dress that skims the top of her thighs as she dances, stirring the succulent sauce in front of her. The music from the cartoon Grace and Olivia are watching in the distance in no way matches the hypnotizing way her hips are moving. She must be wearing earbuds. I can feel my dick twitch as the navy-blue hem of her dress sways back and forth over the soft skin of her toned thighs.
Suddenly her pace picks up, and I observe as her hips start to shimmy provocatively, making me grow harder still. Looking over my shoulder to confirm Grace and Olivia are otherwise occupied with the television show they’re watching, I readjust my now obvious erection. Hell, this woman. I’m surprised my pheromones haven’t caused her to sense my presence.
Abruptly I have to take a step back, startled as Kat puts the spatula down and lifts her arms over her head to bring her entire body undulating to whatever she is listening. A ridiculously toothy grin inhabits my face as it suddenly dawns on me that I’ve hit the lottery. I married the Dirty Librarian.
Reaching forward, I pluck an earbud from her right ear and watch as Kat gasps at the intrusion into her private dance party. Placing the bud into my ear, I don’t recognize the title, but there’s no mistaking it’s Shakira. And clearly, Kat loves the tune. Those hips don’t lie.
“Dr. Barnes, did anyone ever tell you it’s dangerous to sneak up on someone when they’re in front of a hot stove?”
“Mrs. Barnes, did anyone ever tell you it’s dangerous to wiggle your hot ass in front of your husband?” I place her hand over the firm rod nestled in my pants, grateful to be shielded from small humans by the kitchen island.
“It appears you have a bit of a problem.” She giggles.
“A bit? Is that what we’re calling it now?”
I feel her hand quickly withdraw from my needy cock just as two screaming maniacs come bounding toward us. It’s about this time I notice Kat grab the little white hats from their heads in a stealthy move before barking their names.
“Oh no, you don’t. Logan, Mason, get back here.”
Realizing who’s in charge in this family, the boys hurriedly stop and face Kat as if being challenged by a drill Sergeant. They don’t bother glancing in my direction. They’re compliant but can’t stop the goofy smiles they’re wearing.
“Where are we supposed to wear these?” she asks, presenting the small caps she’s plucked from their heads. I continue to observe as she pulls the waistbands of their sweatpants forward and shakes her head. Instantly I realize these self-constructed hats are their underwear.
“Please put those where they belong and wash your hands for dinner. It’s almost ready, but I need you to sit with your sisters until the rolls are done.”
“Awe, man,” they groan in unison.
As they sprint off, I bend down to peek into the oven door I’ve pulled ajar and inhale the mouthwatering aroma of fresh bread. Noticing the timer shows eleven minutes remaining, I quickly exit the kitchen to greet my girls in the great room. Hugs and kisses are distributed to my quiet little lasses before I bend down to whisper into Grace’s ear. “Daddy needs Mommy’s help with something before dinner. Can you try to keep an eye on the boys? It’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Sure, Daddy. But they don’t like to sit.” I watch as Grace’s face erupts in a giant smile. “Can I put them in time out if they’re running?” she asks gleefully.
“No. I have a better idea.” Returning to my full height, I dart over to my study, practically running to my roll-top desk, and reach into the top drawer where I hide my secret weapons. It’s essential I save these for extraordinary occasions and keep the location of the silencers under lock and key. Returning to Grace’s side, I watch her shocked expression as I hand her four child-sized lollipops.
“Before dinner? Mommy is going to kill─”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry, Grace.” I watch as the look of utter dejection dots her face as I place them in my pocket. The guilt over my corruption is making my stomach lurch. I’m a terrible father for doing this, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” she whispers. Olivia’s blue eyes volley between us, watching our every word with rapt attention.
I hand the brightly wrapped bribery back in her direction and watch as Olivia’s eyes spring wide, arms immediately extending to grab the sugary treat. Knowing time is of the essence, I spin on my heel toward the kitchen and my dancing queen. Enfolding my arms around her waist, I grind my still engorged cock into her backside.
“Kat,” I groan. “Or should I say, Shakira, Shakira?”
Giggling, she puts her utensils down and spins in my arms, draping her hands about my neck. “What are you up to?”
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