In a New York Minute - Part Twenty-Four - Chapters 91-94 - Sex Stories

In a New York Minute - Part Twenty-Four - Chapters 91-94

... you okay, baby?” he asked, genuinely worried.

“I’m fine. I'm just a little tired and a lot nauseous. It’ll pass.”

But she wasn’t fine, not even a little bit. Mac decided Franz was right; it was time to go home.

“We’ve put in more than our fair share of hours this week. Let’s get out of here early today and devise a dinner plan. Then we can discuss when you want to go home,” Mac said.

“Home?” Grace asked weakly. “Like home-home?”

“Yes, we’ve been on the road long enough.”

“If this is about me being pregnant and nauseous, you need to stop worrying. I won’t let anything stop me from doing my job.”

Franz tilted his head in a way that conveyed,I told you so.

“On the contrary, although I know Avery has been doing a wonderful job keeping things running, I miss our bed and our cat. Merlin probably thinks we’ve abandoned him by now.”

Grace felt her irritation fade. “Oh, our poor, sweet kitty! I do miss him very much.” Suddenly, she looked wistful. “I suppose you’re right. We’ve been away long enough. Let’s go home!”

Mac looked at her face and saw the sparkle return to her eyes. Why hadn’t he noticed it was missing? Pulling his wife into his arms, he shot Franz a grateful look and mouthed a silentthank you.

“What about the rest of the offices we haven’t visited yet?” she asked, starting to pull away. But Mac didn’t let go; he held her close, making her smile.

“Seems to me that my very clever COO hired a traveling consultant. I think it’d be ...

... fine to let Brendan finish up the rest of the European offices for us,” he said, placing a loving kiss on the top of her head.

“She is pretty ingenious, isn’t she?” Grace teased. “You were even more so for putting her in charge.”

Satisfied that he’d accomplished what he set out to do, Franz said, “I think we should go out tonight; I’ll call Bauernbraeu and let them know we’ll need a table for six and a baby.

Chapter Ninety-Two

After stuffing themselves with apple strudel after supper that evening, Mac and Grace turned in early at Franz’s suggestion. Once they were behind closed doors, Mac pushed his wife playfully against the wall and propositioned her, nuzzling her neck with erotic kisses, whispering, “I’m in the mood for dessert, darling. Care to join me on the bed?”

Grace feigned ignorance. “You didn’t get enough strudel drenched with vanilla sauce?”

As his hands got busy undressing her, he quipped, “I’d like to drench you, all right. But my sauce isn’t vanilla.”

Grace grinned. “Nothing about us is vanilla, is it, darling?”

Laughing at her quick wit, he unzipped his fly and pulled out his rigid shaft. “No, we are not vanilla people, that’s for sure. Get on your knees, my pregnant slut, and suck your Master’s cock.”

Grace felt her juices start to flow at his command. “Yes, Sir,” she answered submissively, following the directions she’d been given. Within seconds, he was firmly lodged in her throat as her nimble fingers did wicked things with his ...