All I could do was beg for more.
|My husband and I had always had a wonderful sex life. We would go all night until our bodies would fall victim to the waves of climactic pressure. There was one night, however, I remember more than the others. He thinks I was too drunk to remember anything, but I remember everything…
We had stumbled into the house, laughing, walking into walls. It was a typical night of taking shots of vodka, debating about politics, and taking more shots. We finished off a 1.5 liter bottle of vodka that night.
He walked me to my side of the bed and I lifted my arms up so he could remove my shirt and my bra. My pants came down with ease and I never wear underwear. He laid me down in bed and got in on his side. He had intentions of falling fast asleep. I had other intentions.
He laid his hand on my upper thigh, right where the crease of my stomach meets the fold of my leg. I lay there, back facing him, with thoughts of his thickness thrusting into my inner folds. I grabbed his hand and interlocked our fingers, then moved his hand up to my right breast. He tried to move it away but I quickly stopped him and placed his hand back on my breast. With my fingers still locked in his, I forced his hand to squeeze and massage my breast. I loved feeling his hands on my body.
“We need to go to bed, baby,” he whispered in my ear.
All I could do was let out a slight moan as his hand grabbed tighter and shook my head “no”.
I rolled over onto my back and his mouth quickly found my nipple with all disregard to the statement he had just made. His tongue swirled against my hardened bud and his teeth grazed the tip and then his whole mouth covered my nipple and he sucked. My hands found way to the top of his head and I grabbed the back of it, then I forced his face further down onto my breast. My pleasure was heightened as he began to suck harder, faster. My moans became more sudden, louder, as his lips defeated my nipple.
His right hand made way down my stomach to the top of my mound. He used his pointer finger and rubbed in slow, gentle circles around my clit. My body started shaking, my eyes rolled back and I found way to my first orgasm of many that night.
He then slid his hand down and his pointer and middle finger found way into my soaking wet abyss. He moaned against my nipple and began thrusting his fingers into me. I found myself thrusting up to meet his rhythm, my moans increasing, my pleasure increasing. I loved feeling his fingers inside of me. I told him to push deeper and he would. I told him to go faster and he did. My body was shivering at the feeling of his fingers being inside of me.
“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my hand.”
That’s all he had to say. My back arched and a scream belted through my throat. I could feel my toes aching from curling up from the pleasure. I was in climactic heaven.
He slowly removed his fingers then slid on top of me. I bit my lip and looked into his chocolate eyes. My mind was already in a haze from the vodka and the first two orgasms. All I could tell him to do was fuck me.
His throbbing tool slid inside me. A small shrill of pleasure rumbled out of my throat. He began thrusting into me, sliding his thickness as deep as it could go. I dug my nails into his back and begged for more. My legs wrapped around his waist tightly as I could feel the third orgasm coming on. He felt so good.
Then it happened.
Just as I was climaxing, his tool slid out and accidentally peeked its way into my ass. This was a forbidden area to us. I squealed, then a moan shook through me as he removed it.
“I’m so sorry!”
I bit my lower lip and moaned again. “It’s okay. I want you to fuck me in my ass.”
I looked at his face, his eyes widened by my statement. “Are you sure?” he asked.
He advised me to roll over, and I did with no reluctance. He slid his tool back into my pussy and got it well lubricated, and then fireworks went off in my head. Sirens and whistles blew loudly and confetti floated through my mind. His rock hard tool was now deep into my needy ass. His hands found my hips and I begin thrusting back, grinding my ass against him with every move. He reached up further and grabbed my breasts as they bounced to our rhythm. I could feel my body shaking violently, gloriously to this new found pleasure. Our bodies made way to the top of the bed where I found my head banging against the wall. I screamed in pleasure as I came again. He slid out and then replaced his tool into my now gushing pussy, then his fingers replaced the hole in which his tool just left. Was I dreaming?
I came hard against his tool, my body convulsing.
He slid out of me and his other fingers now found way into my pussy, all while he still had one in my ass. He finger fucked my ass and pussy so hard, so fast. I couldn’t contain myself. I begged him to go harder, begged him to smack my ass, begged him for more. He obliged.
As I came again, I knew it was my turn to take care of him. I rolled over and told him to lay down. My hand found its way down to his throbbing, rock hard tool and I wrapped my tiny hand around him. My pasty white hand stroked up and down his milk chocolate tool. I licked my lips then dove in.
My tongue found the tip of his tool and it wriggled around the head for a moment. His moans were a good sign. I then slid my tongue down the length of him and it raced around his balls once before sliding back up to the head. His hand grabbed the back of my head and pulled on my hair. I took the length of him into my mouth and tightened my grip; my mouth slid up and down his shaft as I sucked on his velvety smooth tool. I swirled my tongue against him as I sucked. His hand was now pushing my head up and down, fast when he wanted, slow when he wanted. I was his slut. I took his entire 7 inches down into my throat, gagging a bit then swallowing him whole. His legs started to shake. He was ready to cum and I was ready to take it.
His moans became louder, his grip on my hair tighter, then I felt the warm stream of cum shoot into my mouth. I quickly sucked the cum up, milked him dry, and then swallowed the salty sweet nectar that my love had just given me. I felt his tool beginning to back down and I gave it one last suck before releasing my grip. I laid my head down on his thigh and rubbed on him for a few more minutes with the tips of my fingers before I found the strength to move back up to the fold of his arms, give him a deep kiss, and fall right to sleep.
He claims it was World War II of Fucking that night. I played innocent, acting as though I fell victim to the alcohol. He still smiles about that night when we mention it, and even though I still play innocent to this day, a smile still lingers and a yearning still burns on the inside.