Her day had been hard. Shifting and moving heavy rolling shelves all day wore her muscles. Dealing with customers of all varieties on the lowest end of the intelligence ladder drained her. Oh, how she could not wait to go home. The safe cocoon that shielded her from the uncertain ways of this world.
Her phone received two simple messages throughout this horrible day. Each one sent both a smile to her lips and an electrical spark down to her pussy simultaneously.
Miss the taste of you.
I'll cook dinner. You are my dessert.
As infuriating as her husband can be, he knew exactly how to seduce her.
When she arrived home, the house was cleaned. All the children were occupied. She didn't realize how hungry she was until he sat her down and made a plate. Their conversation around the delicious morsels was easy between them. How he knew to listen. To hear her day. The relief began to seep in.
She washed the dishes from appreciation but knew that as he sat at the table he watched her. The rubbing of her panties on her labia kept her moist in anticipation of her becoming his dessert. His eyes undressed her from the strands of her hair to the swell of her ass.
She felt scuzzy from the sweat built-up from work. She heard him leave the table and enter the bathroom and turn on the shower for her. She tidied up a bit more than went to wash her skin.
The music from the speaker played her favorite genre as she entered the washroom. Steam-coated the mirrors and warm towels awaited her. He hugged her from behind. She could feel his semi-erect cock through the fabric of their clothes brush against her body. She was grateful the steam hid her instant desire.
She always knew he would accept her even if she had rolled in mud and trailed harsh landscapes. This man simply accepted and loved her for who she was. But. She didn't want to be that way. She felt better washed and clean. She hoped she could soothe the pulsating feeling emanating from her clit.
Oh, the hot water trickled down her body felt luxurious. He patiently awaited her in the adjourned bedroom.
She completed her wash down and exited the stall. The warm towel full of cotton and spoke of sealing her heat into its folds. She felt like she got all the liquid off her body until he came and pulled her to the bed. She could not protest as he did say she was to be his nightcap.
She felt her chin come in between his thumb and finger. He moved her face to his. He searched her eyes. What was he looking for? Affirmation? She sat nude to him already. He searched her soul. That was naked as well to his gaze. No. He awaited her love. That mysterious emotional ocean that swells and has dangerous riptides.
He brought his lips to hers. She could feel the light pressure on her lips. His wet, thick lips touched hers. She felt his tongue crack into her mouth to dance with her tongue. She knew he had to taste dinner within. His hunger was not sated. She knew and wanted him to taste more.
He moved down her body, running his fingers into her wetness, then buried his head between her legs. The jolt which shook her as his tongue played with her, and she clutched his hair, a mantra formed on her lips. Don't stop, don't stop. A rippling orgasm overcame her senses as a wave on wave sent her body into delicious, mind-darkening spasms.
As the light dimmed, he rose and pushed himself inside her, sliding silky, thickly smooth, and her hips instinctively rose to him, her body shuddering with absolute, mind-altering desire. The path of ecstasy was a taut cable he pulled from her core.
Whispered breathing gave to heavy panting. A rush of blood powerful pounded in her ears as she clutched him into herself. She wanted to melt into his flesh. A river of hot liquid ran down his shaft that filled her. Her inner walls strained at his girth and her womb buzzed at each of the deep strokes. She was drenching him with desire. He gripped her left breast and thumbed her nipple until it was hard enough to cut steel.
Her breast felt so full. Her body moved hard with his. He palmed her right ass cheek and pulled her onto him. The strength he has excites her more. She wants him to break her. She grinds into him. Her hips in his hand, his mouth on hers, she clung to him until she flowed over the waterfall edge. She fell from a great precipice with a great groan.
His delicious hard beauty was alluring. His musk fills her nose. She can taste him on her lips.
Her body wanted to absorb his.
He is singularly focused on her pleasure. He touches her clit. He strokes her inner thigh on the sensitive sides. He builds erogenous zones where none existed before. The eutrophic intimacy drives her to new sexual heights.
Her body responds to his. The feelings that coursed through her could not be put to words. At least nothing recognizable to any human being. Since the dawn of our species, many men have tried to define, describe, and detail a woman's body in throes of passion. All failed or came close.
This time, she understands why a man would try to attempt the futile. Her breasts felt full. Her lover worshipped her. His desire in all his motions. His palm presses her breasts, then her belly, stroking and massaging her. She could not understand how her femininity affected him.
Her inner walls felt his thickness rub against her then disappear and appear again. She tried to look down to witness how he fit and felt so good within her.
He nipped her breasts. She inhaled sharply, but before she could rebuke his animal behavior he thrust himself so deep she could have sworn her internal organs had to move out of the way.
She hooked a leg over his hip and pulled by her heels. She wanted him more. Her hair splayed out like a wild fan above her head and sweat beaded on her brow. Her body glistened from the exertion.
She tried to formulate a thought, but like the end of fog, it would disappear. Her mound pulsated. Her skin generating heat and sweat. The air around her was moist and filled with the sounds of slick lubrication naturally producing. Her face turned rosy red while she held in a scream.
A pressure built up from her spine. Her bare and naked skin seems to molt erotic perfume. The sensation of falling filled her again as he placed a breast into his mouth and tongued her nipple and areola.
His cock slips into her giving her a fullness that doesn't seem to be missed until he entered her body. The rubbing of his cock's skin against her vaginal walls felt fucking fantastic.
She's had lovers before, but none in the world matched the man on top of her now. It's been over a decade. Two miscarriages, a high-risk pregnancy that leads to her littlest son's healthy birth, and a hysterectomy, and this man... this masculine male grunting and growling in her ear, holding her shoulders, kissing and tasting every inch of her body... was the best she's ever had.
She felt another avalanche pooling to burst forth. Oh god, she was happy and fulfilled. Some days she'd want to strangle him, but it's times when he ravished her that she'd do their decades-long marriage all or again. The most intimate physical show of love was when he worshiped her. Flaws and all. It only made him bitter if she didn't have multiple orgasms.
Tonight was a hundred times better than her day. Her body content. Her pussy satisfied. Her breasts were still swollen. Yet, every aching muscle had released all the tension. Day-um she loved this man. Her husband.
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