Five Years Later
I open the front door to our home quietly, Miley fast asleep on my shoulder. It’s been a long night, but she insists on going to every show with me, and now has a special place side stage where she plays on her own drum set. At nearly seven, she’s getting quite good, though she’s informed me that drumming is not a career for her. She’s one hundred percent going to be a veterinarian.
“How was your night?” Angel asks, rubbing her eyes as she greets us in the front room. She’s wearing nothing but one of our band’s t-shirt and a pair of pink panties. “Your assistant drummer still enjoying herself?”
I balance Miley as I kick off my shoes and head down the hallway toward her bedroom and lay her in the bed. Angel takes off her shoes and we cover her up, kiss her forehead, and close the door.
“She steal the show again tonight?” Angel asks, taking my hand as we make our way to our bedroom.
I pause for a second to peak into Brandon’s room. He’s fast asleep, cuddled under his dinosaur sheets.
“Miley always steals the show. I think the fans would be disappointed now if she didn’t.” I laugh at the recall of her taking over lead guitar for Vic. It was too big and heavy for her, but she took the job seriously and strummed with pride. Man, I love that kid! “How were things here tonight?”
When Brandon is old enough, he’ll come to shows as well, but right now, he’s not old enough to keep the noise cancelling headphones in place. We spend all night chasing him around, which isn’t productive mid-show.
“Relaxing, we put together a french toast casserole for morning. He fell asleep while we watched a movie, and I had time for a bath,” she says as she crawls into bed.
“Oh shit, that is a good night,” I say, knowing she rarely gets time to herself.
I strip down to my boxers and lift the blanket to crawl beneath, but Angel slides into my space and looks up at me, her big eyes just studying me until my cock begins to straighten.
How does she do that? One focused look and I’m losing it.
Reaching out, she pulls my cock from the slit in my boxers, stroking it back and forth as her eyes stay on mine.
I run my hands through her long hair, my fingers lost in the silk as she takes me into her mouth.
Fuck, just watching the tip of my cock slide between her lips sends chills up my spine. She’s so perfect. So, so, fucking perfect.
I lean my head back and close my eyes, peacefully feeling every twist of her tongue as she works.
“I have been thinking about this all night,” she says, pulling off my cock in one long stroke. She crawls up and runs her hand over my chest and up to my shoulder until our lips meet. “It’s been too long and I need that cock: now!”
I love when she gets demanding like this, but I don’t love it when we go through these dry spells. It’s been at least three days since I’ve had my hands on her, and now we’re both crawling out of our skin.
I kiss her neck, laying into the soft curve of her shoulder, as I lift my t-shirt off her. She stays kneeling on my bed, her legs spread. Her breasts free, round, and full, dripping bits of milk. Her belly, round and protruding, as she grows us another baby.
Leaning down, I kiss her breast, sucking her nipple with intention, tasting the sweet bits of milk that drip from her. Maybe it’s fucked up that I love the taste so much, but I do. It’s hers, she made it, and I want it. Just like I want every part of her. Kissing down over her belly, I make my way to her core, wasting no time before diving in.
Angel lets out a sweet soft moan as my tongue hits her clit and my cock stiffens harder somehow.
Keeping my movements erratic, I lick up and down, back and forth, and finally suck up on her clit, until she begins to squirm. Here, my actions become more intentional. I reach my hand up and cup her breast, squeezing her nipple between two fingers as I circle her clit.
Angel lets out a moan, this time more guttural as she tightens her thighs around my face, her fingers lost in my hair.
“Oh God, Ryker…,” she screams. “I’m going to… I can’t… I’m…”
Suddenly her thighs release from the side of my face, juices drip from her core, and her hips lift and convulse.
I dig in deeper, devouring her pleasure as she writhes beneath me, her moans soft as to not wake the kids, but I can tell she’s struggling to keep her voice low.
“What is it about that, that makes me ache to be filled?” she asks, sitting up from the bed to plant a kiss on my lips before turning over.
Presenting herself ass up, I run my hand over down over the small of her back, over her ass, and between her legs, petting her swollen pussy before sliding into her.
Gripping her hips, I move slow at first, then faster.
“You feel so fucking good sweetheart,” I say, rubbing her back again as my cock slides in and out of her smooth cavern.
She lets out a moan, “Right there, right there, fuck… right there. Ry…”
Her head rubs against the soft sheet as I press against her bouncing ass.
“Fuck, I’m going to come,” I yell, taking her in further. “I’m going to come…”
“Come for me,” she begs. “I need it!”
A moment later, warm euphoria is spilling into her as my pumping slows. Angel presses back into me, teasing the last bit of pleasure from me as my eyes squeeze shut.
Once I’ve pulled out, she collapses on the bed. I crawl in next to her, resting my hand on the side of her stomach. Our baby boy kicking from all the movement.
“Are we still going with Dylan for a baby name?” she asks, fully relaxed against the pillow.
“When you name a kid Dylan Ryker, you know he is going to be a rocker. Maybe the kids can all start a band together. We can be like the Partridge family, traveling around venue to venue,” I laugh, because they both seem to have other interests—Miley with saving animals, and Brandon is obsessed with everything science. I know they’re young and their interests will change a thousand times over, and honestly, I hope they do.
If I hadn’t shifted gears to stay home with Miley when she was young, I wouldn’t be here with the most beautiful woman in the world, raising a houseful of rug rats.
Angel sighs and backs her ass up into my cock. I reach down and pull up the thin sheet, covering our nude, sweaty bodies, just enough that we don’t catch a chill.
“Good night, sweetheart,” I say, holding her close.
She murmurs back a reply, but it’s nearly inaudible as she drifts off to sleep.
I’ve played shows all over the world and I’ve met some really interesting people doing it. People like Theresa and the Karen’s of the world think that is the motivation for people like me. But nothing, absolutely nothing, beats being in bed with this woman, in the home where our family sleeps. Rocker or not, this is the life.