“Then don’t. Don’t wait… come inside me, Axe.”
We’re so in tune and so used to be quick because of the kids that my husband’s barest touch can send me over and I already can feel my core clench onto emptiness at his husky words and the way his eyes are riveted to my pussy, burning with hunger, makes me wheeze in need.
“Love, I need a taste first,” he hisses, and a low moan escapes his lips when my hand comes away from his muscular back and slides down to wrap around his massive cock, already dripping pre-cum on my mound.
He lowers himself onto my body and slithers back until his face is between my spread thighs and takes his ‘taste’.
Only, my hubby, doesn’t do anything by halves, so even if he meant to merely sample, he is doing an entirely different thing now.
I feel his whole mouth open over my hot pussy as he French-kisses it until my entire body is trembling and then I’m practically panting for air. My heart begins to pound away, when he sticks his tongue past my slit and as far as it can go inside of me, making me go off on impact and forcing more juice out of me.
“Fuck, you’re so sweet, Tess… I can’t get enough,” he growls on my center, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my bottom as he brings me closer to his face and eats me deeper, his beard, drenched in my cream, tickling the lower part of my lips and the inside of my thighs.
He attacks my clit again, with nibbles and kisses this time, and I can’t take it anymore. I need him inside.
I pull at his hair until his eyes are looking up at me, their blue darker in his lust.
“Love, come up here! Come inside of me…”
He takes his mouth away from my center with a groan and then drops his face on my inner thigh, panting. “Damn, your sugary smells always drives me fucking insane, baby…”
I feel his cock lurch in my grip, and I give him a hard squeeze, just like Axe taught me over the years that he likes best and he grunts.
He pulls my soft flesh between his teeth and marks my thigh making me start to clench in pleasure again —I love it when he goes all possessive caveman on me because that’s when I know he wants me just as crazily as I want him— before kissing his way up my body, his hands lovingly massaging my hard belly and my wide hips as he goes, until his mouth reaches mine, sharing my private taste with me with a sweep of his tongue past my lips.
I guide his hard cock to my entrance, and he bumps against it a few times, covering his large tip in my wetness as we kiss and then he rolls us to our sides and slides his whole length into me, making me moan and whimper his name as he stretches me and fills me to the hilt.
With my belly always in the way and my back more often than not in pain these days, this is the comfiest position we can make love in, and no matter how much he likes to be on top and just fuck hard into me, my husband would never harm me, so he just picks it by default now.
I love it when we’re entwined like this, with my achy breasts pressed into his hard, hairy chest, but I miss having him on top of my body and feeling all his weight on me, not that I’m going to complain, though.
Far from it: I feel cherished and loved right now and this is so damn pleasurable, my brain is this close to short-circuiting already.
I feel myself start to go over again when one of Axe’s fingers slides between us and starts to rub my clit in time with his long, slow strokes inside of me.
But I’m greedy and I want more.
I don’t like when he holds back and I want him to take me hard and fast.
“Love, give me more. Harder, faster, please!” I moan, my nails racking his back.
“Fuck, baby!”
He growls into the crook of my neck and his hips start to hammer into me in just the way I need, and in only a couple of minutes I reach the climax I was aiming for, not the sweet slow-burning kind, but the jolting, muscle-seizing, mind-warping one I so desperately love to share with him when he fucks me hard and deep, for his pleasure as much as for my own.
My husband hisses my name into my skin, his fingers clutching my sides and his hips pitched against mine. His cock, still deeply seated in my body, starts to twitch as his powerful big frame shakes in his orgasm while he bathes my walls with the burst of his warm seed, drawing a few more pleasurable clenches from my stretched, swollen pussy, and making me cry out into his own shoulder and bite into it to quieten my ecstasy.
“I love you, Tess,” he murmurs, his voice ragged.
I gasp and huff out a breath, hugging him as hard as I can, even if my limbs feel like Jell-O right now.
“Love you too, Axe.”
We stay just like this for a long while, breathing hard and all sweaty, arms and legs thrown over each other and his still hard thickness jerking and thumping inside of me.
We don’t get much of a respite, though, because that’s when Jackie starts to scream the house down, making us both jump.
Life doesn’t hold much peaceful naked cuddling for parents of small children, I’m afraid.
“The door!”
“Fuck the door!”
We both mutter in a panic, throwing glances at the bedroom’s door. The one we not only forgot to lock, but also to close. Crap.
We have mere moments to react before all hell breaks loose on us, but we’re used to it, so we act fast, scrambling for our clothes and getting presentable, or rather presentable enough for clueless kids under five: every single adult in the world would take a look at us and just know in under three seconds that we were getting it on.
We run out of the messy bedroom just in time to see furry hell explode.
Mickey is running around holding Shield’s favorite chew toy. Our normally peaceful and Zen dog really gets tunnel vision when that particular piece of rubber is involved and is now barking like mad and jumping around our laughing son, all the while little Jackie is strewing toilet paper over the furniture and my catty trio is clawing the hell out of it, getting dragged by the little boy all over the place.
And somehow they got Alexa to turn both the TV and the MP3’s speakers on.
Meanwhile, Snap is quietly munching on kale leaves with an expression that’s reads a lot like: ‘I’m too hold for this stuff’ à la ‘Lethal Weapon’.
My husband looks down at me like: ‘what the fuck?’
“Weren’t they asleep like five minutes ago, babe?”
I shrug. “Don’t tell me you’re that surprised.”
He chuckles. “Well, not really…”
I tilt my head, folding my arms. “It’s your turn to play Meanie.”
He actually whines. “Aw, come on! I was Mr. Mean Strict asshole two days ago!”
I giggle. “Well, I did it yesterday, hon…”
He huffs and turns toward the little apocalypse playing out in our living room again, his lips twitching as he gears up to be all imposing and forbidding.
“Enough kids, cats, dog! Everybody sits down quietly and zip it right now or…”
His blue eyes narrow as he thinks up the cruelest form of torture.
“Or… no ice-cream and no treats for a month! And that’s final!”