Free S-Duality: A Marauders Novella by Lina Andersson Page A

around a cock. Instead of answering, he kept fucking her, pulling her towards him by his grip on her neck. When he felt her coming, he pulled her up to stand on her knees and slapped her over her clit.
    “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Sisco. Again!”
    Since she was his wife, he figured he should do as she asked and slapped her over her clit again. “Like that, baby?”
    He let go of her neck and wrapped his arm around her, holding her against his chest.
    “I love you,” she mumbled and turned her head to catch his mouth.
    He had his beautiful girl flush against his chest, her breast in one hand, the other hand just resting between her legs to feel her wet seeping. She was perfect, just fucking perfect—and his wife! She grabbed his left hand, and he felt her fingers playing with his gold band. With his tongue in her mouth, he felt his balls clenching, getting ready, but he wasn't done.
    “Say it,” he mumbled against her mouth. “Tell me you're my wife.”
    “I'm your wife, baby.”
    He pulled out and turned her around, holding her cheeks, looking into her eyes. “You're my Trudy.”
    “Forever,” she smiled and lay down, spreading her legs wide. “Always!”
    He got on top of her and slid home. “Always.”
     
    Two weeks later, they had the party of the last decade of the century to celebrate their wedding. The title of the party was Laurie's idea. It wasn't just to celebrate the wedding, it was a good luck party for Riot Act, too, since they were going away for a bunch of festivals and smaller gigs all through the summer.
    Trudy hated big parties where she was the center of attention, he knew she did, so he took her out to the back before midnight and fucked her against the garage wall.
    “You might just have ruined the orgy coming up later,” she muttered once they were done.
    “I don't think there's going to be an orgy ,” he said while he zipped up his jeans.
    “I know, but I'm hoping that's what this will lead to, and now I have semen running down my thighs.”
    “It washes off,” he laughed and gave her a kiss.
    “Yeah, but it leaves this weird coating on the skin no matter what you do.”
    She was obviously still a bit sulky, and he took her hand to stop her when she headed back towards the house.
    “Wanna hang out here with me for a while? I'm sure Jane will come and get us if they start something inside.”
    “You really think they will start something?”              
    “No, I don't.” They might have friends who wouldn't mind a group fuck, but far from all of them, and even fewer would be up for an actual orgy—he wasn't even sure he was. He sat down on the ground, and she got down next to him. “This really just is to celebrate us.”
    “I know,” she muttered. “It's nice, I guess, but... It just stresses me.”
    “You should see the tantric sex chair they got us. Think we'll have a lot of fun on it.”
    “I saw it, and we will,” she confirmed. She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Think you'll keep up with this touring?”
    “No idea,” he said with a shrug. “Not sure how long they'll be able keep going like this. Although it does seem to be taking off.”
    He'd been shocked when he came back to Seattle in April; it hadn't even felt like his old town anymore. There were music journalists all over the fucking place. Some dude had shoved a mic in his face and asked him why he wore flannel and torn up jeans. How the fuck did you answer that question? They'd also asked if his beard and long hair was a statement. A fucking statement? What a fucking joke! Trudy had pulled him away, since she'd sensed he was about to deck the fucking wuss holding the microphone.
    “If you're not doing that, and you're going to stop with the pot if we have kids, then what are you gonna do?”
    “The garage,” he shrugged. He'd been working at a garage now and then since he was sixteen; he was sure he'd get a job again if he wanted it. “It'll be enough to support us. At least for a while,