Author's Corner:

I know I have absolutely no business starting a new story when I have like 5 that need to be updated, however, when I get stuck I always start tinkering with the other stories in my head and see if one of them don't update themselves. So with that, on with the completely smut filled Trois.

This chapter contains strong sexual content…what, you're surprised?

Torque

I love my wife...I love my wife. I swear to God I love my wife.

David Bautista looked down at his beautiful wife of three years. The sun radiated off her beautiful toffee colored skin, glistening off the Shea butter lotion she used at night. He admired her, she was a beautiful biracial butterfly and he never refrained from letting everyone know it. He loved his wife; she was everything a man could ever think to ask for her. She was educated, she was cultured. She was intelligent and classy. She was sexy, she was curvaceous, she was adventurous and she was awesome in bed.

So why am I so fucking bored?

He had tried everything under the sun to get some spice back into the interactions between him and his wife. Not that she was the blame; she would do everything asked of her with no complaint. She was dedicated! If he wanted his dick sucked, her lips were around it before he could get his pants down to his ankles. If he wanted to hit it from the back, she was bent over with a smile…He looked at her again, he couldn't help it. Her beautiful sun kissed locks flowed against the egg crème colored sheets and set them off perfectly; soon she would open those hazel orbs of hers and smile at him with a set of lips so luscious that they brought him to his knees on the regular. He sighed, running his hands down his face.

True to word she opened her eyes and gave him a sexy hooded grin, "Morning amante." She purred to him, running her fingers down the soul patch on his chin.

"Morning sweets," he kissed at his wife's cheek.

"How did you sleep?" she asked as stretched. Her body was so scrumptious in that white cami and barely there boyshorts it made his cock jerk to attention.

"Good, what about you?" he asked running his fingers down her slender arms, traveling down her ribs finally to circle her cute tear drop belly button of hers.

She giggled, "I slept well," she got up from the bed. "I better get going; I have to be at the airport for my flight in an hour."

Dave sighed as he watched the sight of his half naked wife leave the bed. The woman had an ass that the good Lord himself had to have made on a Saturday because even he would've had to sit back for a day and admire his work. He had the entire package. He had a lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets. He had a woman who was ambitious, driven, demure and fiery all at the same time. He had a woman who could turn his body inside out with a single look in her sexy hazel eyes, so he had to ask himself the last insane question.

Why the hell am I bored again?

­­-

Dave shook his head, "I don't know what to do about her."

"Smooth" Paul Levesque, John "Baby Face" Cena, Ken "Bling, Bling" Kennedy and Montel "MVP" Porter were looking at the best friend in confusion. What in the hell did he mean what to do about her? They not only had the cure all for what to do about her, they had it for what to do with and to her. But no wanted to step out of pocket with "Big" Dave Batista.

"What the fuck are you looking at me like that for?"

"You going to have to forgive us Big," Montel started. He was the only black boy in the mix. He was about six feet tall, deep brown eyes with a muscular build. Montel ran his hands over his freshly twisted braids, "we don't understand the problem here."

Dave drew out a breath, he didn't understand the problem his damned self, which is why he was at his favorite bar with his four best friends having an intervention.

"Things have changed."

The four men exchanged looks, "What in the hell do you mean things have changed?" Ken Kennedy asked. Ken was also about six feet tall with a muscular build with platinum blonde hair, a knack for chewing gum and being extremely blunt. "If I had a woman that was even remotely near your wife the only thing that I would change is what position I fucked her in." The men burst into laughing for two reasons, one, what Ken said was the truth, two because only he could get away with saying it. Ken acted as if he hadn't said anything even remotely insulting; he just bit into his sandwich waiting for Dave to explain himself. There was no one who had ever wanted to slap the hell out of one person more than he wanted to slap his best friend at that moment.

"It's not like that Bling," Dave said.

"So what's it like?" Paul chimed in; he could read his friend perfectly and already knew what the problem is, "because you just sound bored."

"You're bored?" John asked disgustedly.

"Yeah," Dave blew out a tired breath, "I am bored."

"How the hell are you bored?" MVP asked. MVP had seen Dave's wife, was there the day he met her. Watched her five foot five inch frame step around in those four inch fuck me sandals like it was nothing. Her body was the product of many days in the gym and her skin was something out of a Neutrogena commercial. And damn did he ever want her to pull that mid back length hair of hers so he could yank on it while he bent her over.

"I just think I need a better woman." Dave said quietly.

"How the hell do you find a woman better than Ambreal?" John shook his head in disbelief. "What the fuck are you looking for if not her?"

Dave shook his head looking around at his four friends for help, "I don't know."

-

Ambreal Devynne Diaz-Batista stood in the foyer wearing something guaranteed to blow her husband's brain to the back of his skull. She was wearing a very sexy black satin teddy with thong back. A satin ribbon laced up the front leaving her sides and back bare. She completed her look with a pair of four inch stiletto sandals so she could show off her fresh pedicure.

Her russet skin was glistening and giving off the faint scent of her signature Shea butter scent. As she admired herself in the hall mirror she couldn't help but smile. Who wouldn't? The sexiest man on the planet was hers and hers alone and when he walked through the door his sole purpose would be to make her cum harder than the time before and she knew he could do it.

Ooh Lord, but I crave that man.

She heard his key in the door and knew it was time for some action.

"Am?" he called out to her. "Ambre—," he turned the corner and found his sexy little wife bent over the foyer table appearing to check her lipstick, "al." He finished her name. "Damn baby."

She turned to face him, her hazel eyes screaming sex at him. She knew exactly how to hold her husband in the palm of her hand. She slid up on the table and crossed her long legs. "You like?"

His answer was to unzip his pants as he walked over to her and open her legs. Pushing the small piece of fabric to the side he pushed himself inside her, "I love."

Ambreal held on to her husband as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside her. Once he reached his hilt he pushed himself inside her at a rapid pace hitting her spot over and over with each stroke, making her hotter and wetter for him.

"Fuck baby," she hissed as he continued to push into her heat. "Damn."

His response was to pull out, pull her down and bending her over the table. Forcefully he held her by the neck pinning her body on the table with his bigger frame pushing into her over and over.

"You just wanted daddy's big cock in you didn't you baby?"

"Yes daddy, fuck you feel so good."

Standing up at his full height, still pinning her down to the table he fucked her so hard he thought they would both end up in traction. The sweat collected between them making their bodies slick with their passion. Ambreal's voice could be heard bouncing off the walls of their Mediterranean style home. When she came she screamed until she was hoarse from it.

"Fuck," he moaned as he emptied his seed inside of her. "Fuck."

The couple made their way up to the bedroom, climbing comfortably into each other arms and fell into deep relaxation. David fell asleep first giving Ambreal plenty of time to just admire her husband.

She had everything she wanted in her life. Her business was successful and she was the top chef on the continent. Her clients varied from Diddy, T.I. and Mariah Carey to Gwyneth Paltrow, Reese Witherspoon and Ethan Hawke. Not to mention her restaurant chain, Divinity was the hotspot amongst all A-list celebrities. She named it that because she claimed her food was the closest to heaven you could get on this earth. She had a wonderful husband who could easily take care of her without her wealth, who loved her unconditionally, could fuck her backward and who she would easily go to the ends of this earth to please. Life was great.

So why can't I shake the feeling that something is way beyond fucked up?

A/N: Just something that I'm tinkering around in my head with…let me know people.