Aimee looked slightly crazed, hungry, like a predator. I grinned. That was when she was at her best – my lioness. I looked in her eyes, then down at her. This blouse and skirt combo made me turned me into a beast every single time she wore it. Her smooth breasts, beautifully displayed in that black lace bra I loved, framed by her favorite white blouse. A wardrobe change too? This was unprecedented! Before I could think on it, my eyes fell down into her cleavage and my mind was lost. I tried to move my hand to grope her and came up short – my restraints stopping me.
I felt a little surprised. Don’t understand why? I didn’t either. I don’t know what I expected to see. I guess a small part of me was stuck on what she said before. I imagined for a wild moment that Dawn was visiting, that she might have walked into the room. That she might have been so overcome with lust at the sight of my cock she had to mount me then and there… But this was real life, things like that didn’t happen. And I didn’t want them to, I was having quite enough trouble with one woman. I’d only just fixed things with Aimee! Focus!
Fortunately she didn’t notice my mental lapse. She was too busy doing something… Ah!
My wife used my cock like a vibrator, teasing her protruding clitoris. Pushing it this way and that. Stroking every part of my velvet tip against her most sensitive area. She quickly progressed from teasing to rubbing to restlessly frigging, her eyes turning serious, drilling into mine. She was a woman on a mission.
Her hips were moving in a smooth rhythm, holding my penis in her fist, rubbing it to and fro. Her right hand was on the bedspread, giving her knees some relief. My helmet brushed roughly past her clit, parted her folds, picked up moisture from a waterfall – and back again.
She stopped very suddenly, mid-motion. She froze, Aimee holding that motionless pose for a second. It looked like she was concentrating deeply on something, her eyes closed. The only clue what was happening is that her expression didn’t even twitch.
A heartbeat later her hips jerked once, twice. She sighed. Aimee opened her eyes and gave me a beautiful smile. Wow, I loved this woman. Aimee’s incredible. I like to look her in the eyes, so I can see this expression. I decided I’m not a fan of blindfolds after all. I’m still pissed I missed her squirting performance earlier.
While I was lost in her smile, she was following her plan. She lifted her hips again, and lined me up. I only realized when, for the second time that day, I was poised just inside the entrance of her womanhood. Aimee couldn’t be doing this, right? We’d never, ever done it twice in a row. Never even tried. She was usually too sore! Who was this madwoman? Could she stay awhile?
As if to prove me wrong, with a single plunge my wife took me deep inside her, sinking almost to the base. Her eyes widened as she was rapidly stretched out around me. Her mouth made a little “o” of surprise. Her secret place was warm and welcoming. It felt different, than before. It felt like coming home.
~~~~
Aimee
I bit my lip as Dean’s cock almost burst me open. To fast, much too fast – I knew better, but I couldn’t wait. The pain was twisted into pleasure, then disappeared altogether as I stretched to accommodate his ridiculous penis. I felt the familiar tugging sensation at my entrance as my pussy struggled to its limit to accommodate him.
I’m not saying Dean is a monster. I’m saying he’s a monster to me. He might be normal, but fuck averages – his cock was almost more than I could take, and that’s all a girl needed to know.
“Fuck yeah! I can feel you so deep inside me, Dean.” I moaned shamelessly, like a wanton whore.
I bit my lip again, trying to resist chastising myself for speaking like a slut. I’m different now. I’m free. Never again.
“Yeah” he gasped, too dumbstruck to speak.
I snorted with laughter, I couldn’t help it. I didn’t really do dirty talk before – not that this was dirty, so to speak, but still – it’s very different. This was all very different. This was too much for him – and probably even for me, but I was looking for my orgasm in that moment, so I didn’t care.
I smiled, filthy and free, allowing myself to experience this, to enjoy it fully.
Looking down at myself, I saw my little tits – okay, a bit bigger than they used to be – tilt back and forth as I rode him, my off-white skin contrasting with the bra, the shirt looking like it’d exploded from the pressure of holding them in. I looked good. Not as nice as Dawn, but still – good. Especially on top of Dean, but who wouldn’t look good on him? My lower half and his were covered demurely by my skirt (yes, the one with pockets, you know it girl), hiding the R-rated action underneath. I both enjoyed the feeling of having a little censorship in place and wished I could see his member molding my poor pussy to his shape.
I satisfied myself with tracing the contours of his oiled, sweaty pecs, his abs, his biceps. Was that a little stubble? Mmm, Dean still looked so tasty to me. He’d been fucking my brains out for a decade and I still couldn’t get enough of him. Right when I was over the shame of last time and ready to be respectable, this sexy man made me sin again. That wouldn’t be an issue anymore – fuck morality; I was going to live for me.
Drunk on liberty and celebrating my successful bit of bondage, I rode that cock like I was in a porn video – without any hint of embarrassment (though my cheeks burned red). Dean was squinting even in the dim light, still not used to it after being blindfolded for so long. Poor baby. I swung my hips back and forth, feeling him slide in and out of me, hitting every sensitive spot I had.
“Does that feel good?” I asked, thinking of him.
“Best ever” he growled. I grinned fiercely, tears pricking my eyes as my heart filled with love for him. He knew just what to say when it mattered.
I closed my eyes and focused, seeking out my own orgasm. Chasing it down, feeling it burn, exploring its shape, finding it.
I rode the wave as high as I could. It grew until I couldn’t bear it. My orgasm begin to crest inside of me. I stopped mid-thrust, holding him in me halfway, and I came, just like that. My eyes flew open, locked on his. I reflexively spread my legs wide, as I always did. I leaned back, my hands on the bed behind me.
“Hff, hff, mmm!” I exclaimed as fireworks went off in every part of my body. “Hff, hff, ohhh!”
My vagina grasped at his cock, and even though we’d been together forever, my husband still felt massive inside me. I came so hard I squeezed him right out of me. I gasped and shivered as I rode my orgasm to completion, my toes tightly curled into the sopping wet blanket.
Once my orgasm had run out of force, I leaned forward, putting one hand on his slippery chest and the other one inserting his manhood back into my entrance, where it belonged.
He began to move, rapidly building up to his signature, an unstoppable rhythm. My eyes crossed and I lost focus. I heard myself squeak a couple of times, like I did when I was really excited. I had to move this along before I came again, before I got too sore to continue. I put my mouth down beside his ear and moaned. No, I spoke.