“Uuunnnggghh…go…uummm…slow…so…uuungh…big…uuuhhh.”
She wasn’t groaning about his length. Yet. Apparently his three fingers hadn’t been enough.
“Is it a good hurt Lassie?”
“Uuuhh huuhhh… don’t stop… uunngghh… uunngghhh.”
He was moving in and out in very short strokes and she moaned at the bottom of each plunge, each of which reached a slightly greater depth.
“Uuhh…uuhhh…ooohh…mmm…unngghh…umm.
I could see on the screen what the camera was recording, and the ridge of his feather repeatedly tickled her magic button at the top of each stroke. Each inward thrust gained ground and each outward retreat went far enough to tease her most sensitive spot. It had taken many strokes before he was in deeper than I could ever go.
It wasn’t long before he struck an obstacle in that virgin territory.
“Uuunnngghhh…go…uunngghh…slow.”
“That’s your cervix Lassie. I’ll split it slow if you want or I can stop there.”
“Uunmgghh…don’t stop…uuuhhh…all…mmmm… the way…uummmm…all of…ooohh god…of you.”
I know I saw at least several dozen slow thrusts before there was no more ground to gain. He held it in and kissed her while she ground herself against him before moving her hand between them to touch their junction.
“Uunngghh…so deep…ooohhh god…now…uunngg…fuck me now…mmmm…fuck me hard…uuhh… Richard honey.”
Her hand stayed between them and I could see her wedding ring as she appeared to be feeling his pride as ‘it’ fucked her. It didn’t look like she was touching herself like she usually does when I fuck her, but it looked like her magic button was being stroked anyway.
The Peacock had only been fucking hard for thirty seconds or so when he began a new catechism.
“How does that feel, Lass?”
“Uuunngghh…good…uummm…so good.”
“Why does it feel so good?”
“Uuunngghh…deep…mmmm…it’s so deep.”
“Deeper than anybody else?”
“Mmmm…a lot deeper…uunngghh…and thicker.”
“So it feels better?”
“Ooohhh god yes…uuuhhh…the best…mmm.”
“This is your best fuck ever?”
“Uuunngghh yes…yes…uummm yes… mmm… I love…aahhh…how you…uuuhhhh…fuck me.
“Are you ready to come?”
“Mmmm…so ready…uunnnghh…can I?”
“I’ll tell you when Lass.”
“Uuunnnnggghhh…soon…uuuhhh…tell me…ooohh god…soon…unnggg.”
By the time he relented, she was nearly sobbing with need; and when he finally gave permission, my wife’s rapture was overpowering in its intensity. The duration, the cramping, the noises, the clutching, and the expressions reflected a peak she’d never approached when I was her climbing partner.
That began at least another half hour of continuous exertion for both of them in a variety of positions, each of which saw him vary his thrust speed, depth, cadence, angle, and hip rotation. They each had a glorious layer of sweat that sometimes developed into dripping beads, and that smell combined with the smells produced with each of their climaxes enhanced the overpowering feel of sexual abandon. Each position induced at least one orgasm for the mother of my boys, and that sense of complete sexual freedom only grew with each release.
Peacock was a maestro at conducting Lacey in a composition I didn’t know existed. There had been a few times when she’d had two orgasms in one session with me, but with the Peacock I quit counting at five. She’d just finished another while riding ‘it’ and kissing him when she removed her lips and sat up to look at me.
“I love this…uunnngg…want more…mmm… honey… oooohh god…a lot more.”