An adult stories – Wife on the Kitchen Floor by DanielRedErotica,DanielRedErotica It happened like something out of a ridiculous porn movie. I think that’s why it went down the way it did. Why it was so hot, so quickly. So nuts.
Jenny called out to me as I came through the front door. I followed the sound of her voice through the house, I strode into the kitchen, where it seemed to be coming from, but I couldn’t see her. “Jenny? Are you in here?”
“Yes! Down here.”
I came around the kitchen island, and there she was, on the floor. I laughed at the site of her, at how ridiculous she looked.
Jenny was in one of her short, sexy black dresses. Her hair was done. She was wearing what looked like stockings and heels. I even smelled perfume. But Jenny was down on all fours, scrubbing the kitchen floor.
She was going out this evening on one of her semi-regular girls’ nights with her friends. I was home late from the office, I was lucky to have caught her. But why wasn’t Jenny heading out the door, why the fuck was she on her knees, scrubbing like this?
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I spilt fucking honey all over the place. Nearly a full jar of it,” Jenny said without looking back at me. “I need to get it up now, before it sets hard. But I’m going to be really bloody late at this rate. It’s a sticky bitch to shift.”
And Jenny was really scrubbing hard. She had both hands on the cloth, she was putting energy into it. I could see and hear how enraged she was, by having to do this, by being made late by it, by how difficult it looked. But I couldn’t help admiring her, too. Jenny had a fabulous body, and it was on glorious show right now, especially her big, round ass.
She did this sort of thing all the time. Jenny would drop her keys, she’d lose something under the sofa, and she’d drop down on all fours. She’d duck her head low, she’d arch her back with her thighs spread, she’d look stunning like that, but she’d be totally none the wiser. She’d have no idea how she looked, what an instant effect she had on me. My cock was hard in seconds, then, that Friday evening.
“Are you using warm water?” I asked. “Honey melts in it in seconds. Then you’d just be able to mop it up. It’d take no time.”
Jenny made a growling sound of frustration and rage. She stopped. She looked back and up at me over her shoulder. Her beautiful face was twisted in anger. “What?”
“Yeah. Warm water. Or hot. It’d take minutes. If that.”
“Now you fucking tell me,” she spat. She was red, Jenny was breathing heavily. She looked just like she did when I was fucking her from behind. My dick pulsed. It ached it was so hard.
I laughed. “You’re using cold water?”
She narrowed her eyes at me.
“Because cold water would be no use,” I said with a grin on my face. “That’d be like trying to clean-up especially sticky glue. It’d be a nightmare.”
“No fucking shit,” Jenny growled. She looked livid.
My laughing at her didn’t help matters either. “But you do look gorgeous like that, down there on your hands and knees, flushed and panting.”
“You cheeky fucker.” Jenny moved to sit up, but I was too fast for her.
I dropped to my knees behind Jenny, I pressed her back into place with a hand between her shoulder blades. I held her there.
Jenny laughed. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“You look too good like that. Besides, you need to keep cleaning that cold, gooey honey. I kept one hand on her upper back. I grasped Jenny’s bent bottom with the other. I squeezed her plump cheeks. “Be a good wife, and keep cleaning.”
I’d never have spoken to her like that seriously. I wasn’t a twat. I wouldn’t have dared. But Jenny adored two things. One was being dominated. The other was being teased.
“Luke. Stop dicking around. Get off me.” Jenny tried to rise up, but I put more pressure on her. I made it clear she wasn’t going anywhere, not without me allowing it. “Keep cleaning,” I said low and loud and firm. “Like a good little wife.”
Jenny tensed, but she stopped resisting. She got an idea of what was happening.
I let my hand on her rear slip down to the back of her right thigh. Jenny sighed as I stroked my fingers across the glossy material of her stockings. I went under her dress to find the top of it, and Jenny moaned, softly, as my fingertips met her bare skin. “The safe word is pomelo,” I said to her.
It was the word we always used. That meant the game was on. Jenny knew I’d stop the moment she said it, but that I wouldn’t for anything else, no matter how she complained or shouted or begged or screamed.
There was no teasing then, no going slow, having Jenny in that position, but in a place we’d never fucked, on the kitchen floor, I went from aroused to filled with yearning in seconds.
Jenny moaned louder as my fingers went higher, as they met her underwear. I cupped and rubbed Jenny, I mashed her knickers into her pussy, and she was right there with me. Jenny had been indignant a moment ago, but she was suddenly sighing and pressing back into my hand. Her underwear was warm from her body, it grew damper by the second. The abruptness of this, the surprise of it, my forcing her into submission, it had clearly gotten under Jenny’s skin, too.
I pulled her dress up at the back to reveal her thighs. Her black, lacey underwear was pulled tight across her magnificent bent derrière.
“Look at these knickers,” I growled at her. “These aren’t good girl knickers, Jenny. These aren’t good wife’s knickers. These are the panties of a harlot. What exactly where you planning this evening, huh?” But before she could answer, I brought my flattened right hand down across her behind.
Jenny yelped in surprise. She gasped. She moaned.
I spanked her twice, a third time, more, but lazily, slowly, yet with ever more force. Each slap sent the breath out of Jenny, each smack made her yap and whimper. If being held down and overpowered got Jenny hot, being spanked usually sent her wilder than nearly anything else I did to her. And being chastised as it happened always intensified it even more. “Is that you, my wayward wife? Are you a wicked little whore looking for strange cock this evening?”
She groaned louder.
“A horny little slut?”
Jenny dropped her head as she moaned.
“What are you going to get up to tonight? Flirting with men? Touching their hard dicks? Sucking them? Getting fucked by total strangers?”
Jenny grew ever more vocal as I whacked her bottom fiercer.
“You’re a disgrace, and these are going to have to come off. I can’t let a wife of mine wear harlot’s knickers.”
Jenny laughed and moaned at the same time. “No!” she gasped.
No, but not our safe word. I ignored it, just as Jenny wanted me to, just as she loved. She whined as I peeled her underwear down to her knees, slowly, as I revealed her magnificent, wide, full bottom, but she moaned with it, too.
I gripped a cheek in each hand, I revelled in the sight of my wife as I spread her open. Her pussy was waxed smooth, it was flushed and puffy and pink and glistening. Her asshole was a tight pucker above. I always exulted in that part of her. Seeing Jenny’s asshole was always a rush.
“A shaved cunt, I see. So you really were going to be up to no good this evening?”
“No. I swear,” Jenny groaned. “Please, show me mercy,” she pleaded, really getting into her role, into our usual, much loved, dynamic. “Please, I….”
I cut off Jenny’s begging with a sharp crack of my hand across her naked cheeks. Jenny yelped in surprise and pain. She groaned low and long.
“It’s no good. You can’t be trusted. I’m really going to have to teach you a lesson, I can see that. There’s only one thing for it.” I tore my trousers open, I hauled my cock out. I pushed it against her, Jenny mewled as I rubbed the head of myself over her sopping pussy.
“No, please don’t,” Jenny implored, but I heard the need in her voice, and it still wasn’t our safe word. Jenny absolutely didn’t want me to stop.
I slipped between her lips, I found her entrance, I drove into my wife. I buried the full length of myself in the heat of Jenny’s body. I held my wife by her hips as I fucked her, right there, on her hands and knees, on the kitchen floor.
Jenny moaned with feeling, she trembled, she pushed back into me, meeting each of my thrusts with zeal. She still had the cloth she’d been cleaning the floor with clutched in one hand. It inspired me.
“Who told you to stop cleaning?” I bellowed. “This floor’s a total mess. Get back to it.”
Jenny laughed in outrage and delight and pleasure. And she obeyed. Jenny did her best to wipe at the mess of honey as I held her and ploughed her.
I couldn’t leave her delectable rear alone, it was my favourite part of my wife’s body. I gripped Jenny’s cheeks, I kneaded her, I spanked her, I spread her. And I absolutely couldn’t resist her asshole as it relaxed and contacted as I fucked her.
I spat on my hand, I rubbed saliva between Jenny’s buttocks, I covered her pucker in it. I spat again and again, Jenny moaned louder as I lubed her up, as I stroked her with my thumb, as I massaged, as I loosened her. My wife took me gladly, with a groan, with a shudder, as I pressed into the tight warmth of her anus.
Jenny adored butt stuff, just as much as I did, if not more. It wasn’t the only reason I married her, but shared kinks definitely helped. Sex is at its best if there’s depraved shit that gets both of you off.
Jenny gasped and moaned as I wriggled my thumb, as I circled it around within her, pressing against her from within, as I opened her up. Jenny relaxed quickly, she accepted me even better than she usually did. I fell to screwing her ass with my thumb within minutes. I took it out of Jenny, I replaced it with two fingers.
And as I fucked her on all fours on the floor, as Jenny made such desperate noise, as her sphincter flexed around me, a truly wicked idea stole into my head. I knew I probably shouldn’t, that it was likely a step too far without more preparation, but I couldn’t shake it. I did it.
I eased out of her anus. I pulled my prick all the way out of Jenny’s pussy. I raised it to her pucker. “You’ve been an utter disgrace, Jennifer Parker. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
She groaned, with feeling, beneath me.
“You’ve ruined the kitchen floor, and god only knows what debauched filth you were planning on getting up to tonight with strange men. You’ve really outdone yourself this time. You’ve been a terrible wife. You leave me with no choice.”
Jenny felt exactly where my dick was, she moaned for it, she rubbed herself into me, urging me on. But I had another idea. One that would be both sordid and helpful. “Don’t go anywhere, otherwise you’ll be in even bigger trouble.”
My wife stayed on the floor as it got up, as I stepped over to the fridge. I found a block of barely used butter inside. Jenny only tried to get back up as I knelt behind her, when she knew she wouldn’t be able to escape.
As she tried to rear upwards, I grabbed her. I pulled Jenny forcefully back down into place. “Oh no, don’t you fucking dare.” I slapped her bottom three times, hard and fast. Jenny yelled, she relented. She stayed on all fours before me.
The butter was cold, but as I scooped up wads of it, as I rubbed it over my cock, it warmed on my skin, it turned slick and slippery. I coated my dick with it, then I focussed on Jenny’s ass. I smeared butter over her flexing asshole. I pushed globs of it into her anus. My fingers and her sphincter grew so greasy with it, I pressed three digits deep into her with ease.
“If I’m going to allow you to go out tonight, whoring with your friends, you’re going to get fucked in your ass first.” I touched the head of my dick back to my wife’s buttery pucker. “I’m going to come in your bottom so you’ll be reminded of me all evening.”
“No, don’t,” Jenny whined. “I’ll be good. I promise.” But I could hear how Jenny was breathing, how she was trying to keep it slow and steady, trying to stay calm and relaxed for me.
“You won’t.” I pushed against her, and there wasn’t even any resistance. The head of my prick eased slowly into my wife’s backside.
She moaned as I slid into her. I groaned as heat and pressure closed around the head of me. Fuck, she felt glorious, and she looked nearly as good with the tip of my dick between her cheeks, opening her asshole. I was dying to get into Jenny deeper, but I held back. I stayed still, to let Jenny get used to being stretched and penetrated.
“No,” Jenny begged. “Please… no…. Don’t…. Spare me…. I’ll be good…. Just please don’t….” she chanted. But even as the words poured out of her, Jenny arched her back further, she pressed herself onto me. My wife exhaled to keep herself soft, as she worked me deeper into her squeezing derrière.
It felt like I was sliding my dick into a soft, smooth, vice. I gasped at how tight Jenny was, at how powerfully that band of muscle at the entrance of her was gripping me.
I pushed through it, and beyond, into where Jenny was more open, where she was hotter. It felt like I was floating in her body. Jenny made animal grunting-moaning sounds as I stuffed her bottom, as I sank into her, as she leaned into me to help.
It looked almost as incredible as it felt. My wife was bent before me, she was dolled up, wearing heels and one of her best dresses. Her legs were in stockings, her bum was exposed to me, her knickers around her knees, her thick buttocks in my hands, and as I watched on, my prick was disappearing between them.
I buried myself into my wife all the way. I held still, again, to let her adjust to being so utterly filled, I waited for her to make the first move. I waited for Jenny to fall forwards an inch, for her to press backwards, and then we were away together, arse-fucking on the kitchen floor like we were porn stars, not husband and wife.
We didn’t screw too hard, we went smooth and slow, without breaks, but we didn’t need to pound into each other, the effect was more than intense enough. Each slight movement was heady, for both of us.
I pumped into my wife gently, I rutted her arse, I talked dirty to her, I called her names, I reprimanded her, I ordered Jenny to keep cleaning. I delivered whacks to her glowing buttocks, and Jenny utterly went to pieces. She made primordial, guttural sounds of pleasure, she trembled, from head to toe, as I screwed her ass.
“Play with yourself,” I ordered, and Jenny didn’t argue. She didn’t hesitate. She reached under herself for her pussy. I felt the moment she met her clitoris as her asshole tightened around me reflexively.
Jenny strummed herself frantically as I glided into her bottom, as I spanked her, as I gave her a good telling off.
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, you incorrigible little slut. You think you can go out and fuck other men, but who owns you, huh? Who owns your fat ass? Who’s in it right now?”
Every word I uttered sent my wife wilder.
“You see what happens, when you’re so bad? Yes, you get butt fucked on the kitchen floor like the shameless tart you are. And you know exactly where I’m going to come. Yes, Jenny, you’re going to be dripping with my jizz all fucking night.”
It sent her over the edge, Jenny cried out as her climax claimed her. She went into convulsions of pleasure, she reared backwards into me with crazed need, as she wanked, as she came with me taking her in the basest of ways.
Her sphincter went into spasms around my prick, and the feel of it, like her anus was milking me, and the sounds she made as she climaxed, it was more than a man can bear. I managed to hold my orgasm back, just long enough to speak one last time.
“Now take your final punishment, my disgraceful, beautiful wife. Take my load in your bottom.”
I shoved as deep into Jenny as I could, as I released. I roared as I came with blinding force, as my cock pulsed and twitched in my wife’s anus, as I filled her derrière with surges of jizz, right there on the kitchen floor.