I am his Woman, he is my King

I understand if the content of this story is too much for this website. I never intend to be overly vulgar or present improper words or ideas in my writing. I am very sorry if I have, please forgive me. If it is too much for MH, please do inform me! I wish to be supportive to the community and align myself with the values and guidance for writers in this website. “n_n”

As always, thank you for your time and work!

Joyfully in Christ,

Sophia

---

Hello, everybody! I hope you are all doing well, whenever you read this story. I was on a long break, seeing as I was pregnant and preoccupied with busy times, however I have now returned to MH. Me and my hubby are doing well, as is our new baby! In a previous post I said December was the delivery, and I am not sure to what extent my brain was working so I am sorry! Our little princess was born, a happy and healthy child, on September 29th of 2022! Due to God’s grace, and that of baby Tara, our transition into parenthood has been smooth. There were little to no issues, and we have been able to find a good rhythm. I most of all appreciate how my husband has been taking the role of a father. He is instantly protective and caring of his new daughter, and has been very helpful to me – from helping me breastfeed, to playing with her, to snuggling all three of us together in his arms. I had one particular experience, wherein I was feeding her, and was leaning on him, his arms wrapped around the both of us. I had felt some true bliss, a gift I know was given unto me by the Lord. A beautiful child, created by the powerful love I shared with the one man who claimed me as his bride. I was ever so happy, and I cannot wait to see how baby Tara grows up! But enough about this, it is time I get into the main topic.

I mentioned in a previous story I wrote, titled My Man, My Love, that me and my hubby have been growing in our marriage bed together. Over time, he has taken a commanding role in our intimate relationship, and I have come to really like this. His physical presence and the manner in which he asserts himself in our marriage bed is absolutely to die for. I delight in his strength, and I find myself craving him. There have been days where I can’t do household tasks without thinking about him. I would take a relaxing shower, only to think about how he’d use his massive arms to lift me up, push me against the shower wall, and then drop me right onto his manhood as I scream my affirmation into his ears. If I’m in the kitchen cooking or organizing, I cannot help but think about how he would walk up behind me, place one hand on my waist – his fingers crawling towards my moistening garden – and his other hand around my neck, bending me back to meet his lips. I know his words,

”I wanted a kiss, so I took one.”

In such moments, where my body takes control and my love for him is beyond words, all I can say is,

”Yes, sweet. Take anything… please…”

He always obliges. His hands would drift down below and stroke my garden while I moan into his lips and beg deep in my soul for him to take me to our bedroom and make love to me as a husband should. At first, I was thinking that perhaps there is something wrong with me in this case, since I desire that sort of intimacy with my husband. However, I believe I have arrived at a logical explanation for why this is. As a Christian wife, I say “yes” to my man and choose to submit to him, such that he is the leader in our marriage and family. I am very blessed that my husband fulfils his duty in loving me in more ways than one, lol. In practicing wifely submission, I believe that I sort of discovered a part of me I never knew existed: a desire to submit more physically to my husband, trusting him to deliver us both to great heights of pleasure. I WANT him to claim me, I WANT him to grab me and love me as only he sees fit. I am HIS woman. Even typing this phrase makes me giggle, and I can feel a heat build down in my lady parts. I am truly wanton for it. After having my child, I feel that he should make me pregnant over and over, claiming me in love to be his wife, and making me the mother of his children. I know this may sound strange, and I am sorry if that is the case, however this evokes such beautiful feelings that stir in my heart and in my private regions. The irony lies in how I have never yet felt so free, than through being his wife and being laid upon the marriage bed to enjoy our blissful union.

There is one experience that, in my belief, encapsulates what exactly I am talking about in terms of practice. Before I proceed, I would like to say that this is just what we as a couple find enhances the marriage bed for us, and it is something that is really a part of my husband’s character that I love. In no way does he treat me wrongly, rather he loves me through his leadership and dominance. Whenever he slaps my bum, grabs my breasts, lightly places his hand around my neck… whenever his firm hand as a husband and man of the house touches me, it is with love. I can feel that he wants and needs me, and I feel so loved by that type of emotive action. That loving nature is important, even in a dominant man, it is part of why I am so secure and safe even with him in full control. If any of you ladies are single, and have similar inclinations as I do, be sure that you find a man worthy and deserving of your wifely submission; find a leader who loves you and works with you through life’s journey, not a dictator or a morally weak man. Also, be sure that in the context of making love, that you also are aware of your own safety. This is how we enjoy our sexy time, and I hope I can inspire any of you ladies who have similar desires as mine to open yourself up to them with your husband and enjoy being lovingly taken to the marriage bed!

This particular Friday started slow. My husband was up quite late working on some materials for a presentation at his job, and so he was sleeping in a bit. I woke up a much earlier than he did, as I had slept for long, and freshened up. As breakfast and his lunch were on the stove I decided to wake him up. I slowly went to our bedroom, and peered in. I was wearing a nightdress, with a ruffled neckline that ended a bit above my breasts, and it was a nice satin one that also was tight to my body. I took some time with myself and made sure I looked nice for him this morning because it was his birthday. I knew he was hard at work, and while he loves his morning workouts (and from the look of his body, so do I) he slept in for some time due to being so tired.

I knew he must be very sleepy, even as he stirred awake, so I was hesitant to approach him for some special romance time. Instead, I saw the time and thought it would be best to wake him soon, and let him instead have time to get ready for work. As he woke and hurriedly left for work, I could feel his stress in his words and his demeanor. The baby was awake, and he held her for some time, before getting back to his routines. He showered and dressed, quickly ate his breakfast, and almost forgot his lunch on the way out of the door! I was going to wish him a happy birthday, however at every moment his mind seemed occupied. I wished not to disturb him or overwhelm him, even with love, when he is not in the calm state of mind, so I thought I would call or message another time in the day to let him know. In the middle of the afternoon, I told him:

S: Happy Birthday, sweet! I wanted to tell you in the morning but you were very worried for your presentation and in a hurry, so I did not want to disturb! I love you, in every level of my being, and I am blessed by the Lord to stand at your side for life…

V: Thank you, really, I was in a rush, and wanted to get this done. I like the work, sometimes these sorts of talks, I have to give to people who have no appreciation, and really do not know anything of what we do here on a daily basis, and act more as bureaucrats. It has been an irritating morning, but I am glad it is over.

S: Aww, I am sorry! That seems very hard on you, but know that the Lord and myself will always be there to support you and appreciate!

V: Thank you… I love you. It seems I forgot something this morning?

S: A kiss, yes… but perhaps when you come home, I can show just how much I missed it…

I could imagine the slight smirk on his face when he read this message, and ever since the morning I had a fiery desire to be claimed as his, with only hours remaining until he does… long, lonely hours. His voice became quieter, but more commanding and deeper in tone. It stirred me, and I subconsciously bit my lip.

V: How exactly does my minx expect to show me that?

I giggled to myself, curled up on the couch as the rain outside pattered on the windows. The rain always makes me feel so calm, as if God is watering his Garden and Creation, while I await my husband to water mine.

S: I am your wife, I will do whatever I can to satisfy and appreciate my husband.

V: …whatever you must, darling, …

I felt my flower start to collect dew, reading the word must… I will do whatever I must… I thought to myself. What wondrous things would he do to me, and ask of me to do to him? Before continuing, I quickly pattered over to Tara’s room, checking on her. She was fast asleep, and I tucked her more comfortably into her crib and kissed her forehead. As I was leaving her room, I thought of how she was created. God gave her to us, but only when me and my hubby joined in one another, in mutual bliss. I felt, in that moment where she was conceived, that a part of him made its way into me, through his absolutely wonderful loving. Oh, how wanton I was for more… I would accept anything of his that he gave, and I would take it as a part of myself. Our beautiful child was the product of a Godly love, and I felt that I wanted to show him such love forevermore. I picked my phone up again.

S: I am back now, sweet…

V: Good. I have some expectations of you. You will follow them as they come. Is that clear?

I love when he speaks to me in this way. It is commanding, but not demanding. Leading, but not dictating. Loving, not using. Even when I am the object of his desire, I feel so free to be so, so free to be HIS.

S: Yes, I understand, sweet.

I was starting to breathe heavily, awaiting what he would say next. But there was nothing.

S: Sweet… are you there?

He had ended the correspondence for some time. I messaged more, but to no avail. I wondered if he was perhaps busy, or had ran into too much work to continue to message. But that was fine, as I had to play with Tara, do some housework, and prepare dinner for all of us. I knew that eventually, he would be home, and we could spend time together. I had some beautiful ideas for his birthday.

As the day waned, I was making dinner for us, and my husband entered the home later in the day, around 6:00 pm. I was aware that his work may keep him occupied today, however I was still quite saddened that he had not corresponded much before coming home to me. He took off his shoes and set down his bag by his desk, before going over to the nursery, to see Tara had been fed. She was staring up at the ceiling, and my husband rocked her on his shoulder, patting her back softly and lifting her above his head, as she giggled. He brought her to the rug and play area that is in direct view of the kitchen, and started to play with her, holding her hands and sitting her on his shins, where he would move his legs up and down, which she found amusing. I love watching him play with our child, a very caring and compassionate father he is!

Yet, a part of me was aching. I had greeted him when he entered the home, but he simply said “hello,” and then proceeded to go about business as if I was never present. I even quietly called to him,

“Sweet?… Sweet….?”

I received no response. I was worried that something at his workplace at disturbed him, or perhaps I had done something wrong. I walked to him before dinner, and softly placed my hand on his shoulder. I looked at his face, but he refused to look at mine.

“Sweet? Please… look at me… I missed you, I want to gift you a happy birthday!”

Still, a simple, “thank you” was all I received. While eating, I looked at his face, his eyes, his lips. I love his face, so calm and in control. His furrowed brow as he monitored the baby was handsome, and the slight facial hair he had turned into his norm was accenting his complexion well. Oh, I am sure he could see me melt. I forming a puddle of my own being, and below I could feel the familiar desire to have him claim me. Dinner came and went, then we fed and put Tara to bed. My hubby held her as she fell asleep, then placed her in the crib, closing the door and making his way back to our bedroom. There, I was sitting at the vanity, brushing my hair. I felt saddened, and as if he has never heard me. I even felt a little upset. He approached me, and I immediately looked away from his gaze. He stood behind me, staring at my face in the vanity mirror. He was not going to give it up, it seemed, cheeky boy!

“Sophia, look at me.”

I was silent. Perhaps, he deserved a little of my naughtiness as well!

“Look at me, now.”

His voice startled me, and I slowly looked up to meet his eyes in the mirror. His hands approached me, and rested no the shoulders of my nightgown, the very same one I had donned in the morning in my attempt to give myself to him. His right hand slowly traveled to my collar bone, his fingers dancing just above my breasts. I dared not to move, my eyes or my body.

Suddenly, his hand grasped my throat, bending it slightly backwards. I closed my eyes as I felt his lips near mine, and kiss me. It was a deep, sensual kiss. Our lips sucked, dragged, bit and devoured. I felt his tongue conquer my mouth, marking me as his, before slowly leaving from it. My lips were quivering, thirsty. I opened my eyes to see him watching my wanton, desirous self as I moaned ever so lightly.

“You ignored me…” I whispered, with a slight smile on my lips.

“I know. I told you, you will do what you must. That you did. I love to see my minx in such a mood. The way you wish for more, is tantalizing. Suppose that this was all an experiment…”

I quickly got up from the chair and turned away, trying to pout and put on a bit of a show. He was not having any of this. Grabbing my hand, not with a painful grasp, but one of firmness, he whisked me back towards him. My bum rested against his trousers, with a large mountain rubbing against me. I felt my eyes roll back slightly, and I nearly wanted to fall onto the bed and have him use me as he wishes. Feeling his warm manhood respond… no, command me to come closer, to submit, it makes me ache with desire. Yet, I had to hold on!

“Is that all I am to you? An experiment?” I said with a mock gasp, whilst my head is turned, gazing into his eyes.

“You see, I am a man of science. So, I look at you, and examine each… and… every… part…”

As he said each word, his hands neared the fire burning in my loins. His other hand kneaded my breasts strongly, his fingers brushing over my nipples under the satin.

“I must know why you thrash so wildly. I must test hypotheses, much like this.”

He then dove into my neck, kissing and sucking on the skin. Oh, how I love this. Simply writing about it makes me shiver. I feel beautiful when he does this specific thing, because I feel like a special chocolate made solely for his enjoyment. I am his woman to enjoy. I moaned loudly, squealing as my knees weakened slightly. His hand grasped my throat once again, the other floating underneath the rather short nightie, nearing my ladyparts.

I wish to mention the throat grabbing in particular, because I understand it may be seen as abusive, and I wish to clear the doubts surrounding it. My husband never hurts me, or ever intends to. His grasp is never hard, or restricts my breathing in any capacity. He is always asking if I am comfortable/safe in new or unfamiliar situations since our wedding night. It is a firm, but forgiving grasp which I actually love. I know this may sound strange so please forgive me, but when he does it I feel so… weak. I feel as if I am that chocolate again, and he is holding how me he wishes, how he sees me as most beautiful and wanton. In this way, I feel loved by this action.

He continued to rub my lady parts, as his other hand left my neck and started to knead and twist my breasts and nipples. After my pregnancy, they had become larger, and my body – whilst having lost a decent percentage of the weight – was slightly wider and curvier. My husband loved these changes, and always told me that the new curves gave him new places to explore, so he felt no attachment to what I looked like before. He told me that pregnancy has given me a new womanly form, one that is not less or more beautiful than what was there prior, but is different and ought to be loved equally as much. Needless to say, such comments truly helped me overcome the initial feeling of low self confidence post-pregnancy. Anyhow, enough of my interjections!

“Oh, sweet, yes… please touch me more there, touch me more!” I proclaimed, loudly, and yet also weakly as I was being touched and rubbed. I was making sounds no one could comprehend, and I felt wonderful. He suddenly stopped, and took the time to remove my nightie and place it on the chair, before moving to the bed. He sat down, and offered me his hand. I was not fully able to walk from what felt like hours of his touch, but was probably no more than a few minutes.

“Sweet…” I whispered weakly as he grabbed my hand. Myself, being clumsy, fell over his lap.

“Look at you, stumbling about haha” he laughed at me, giving me a slight slap to my bum. I do not know what happened to me, but I moaned very loudly. I felt, wonderful. Did a part of his hand touch my flower? Perhaps… but it felt amazing, whatever it was. I closed my mouth with my hand, burying my face into the bedsheets.

“Darling, what was that?”

I was unable to answer, simply nodding into the bedsheets. He lifted me up, and turned me about so that I sat on his lap. I love this position, it feels so safe to me.

“Did you moan?”

“Yes…”

“I have noticed that sometimes you do have this reaction. Even, if I do it accidentally or for the fun of it.”

I nodded, not able to look into his eyes. I love his piercing gaze, which measures my heartbeat and makes me weak inside, and yet I did not have the courage. I did like it when he slapped my bum, and it was not merely for the fun or comedic nature, but because it was arousing to me. It made me feel, naughty.

“Please, Sophia, look at me,” he said as he lifted my chin to his gaze, “do you like when I do that?”

His hand rested near my bum, softly rubbing my skin, as his other hand grazed my face.

“I do,” I whispered.

“Then how about we do an experiment?” his sudden serious and professional tone caught me in laughter. But it seems he was quite serious! Before I could protest, he had me laying over his lap, my bum presented up to him.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes, sweet, with my life,” I said with softly.

He then started to massage my back, slowly moving towards my bum. His hand smoothed over my skin, feeling the roundness of it. I was quite surprised, that despite an addition of more curvature to my body, my bum had stayed quite the same, only more plump in form. I subconsciously lifted my bum to his touch. I wanted it.

He patiently rubbed my the skin, massaging it. I felt so relaxed, but I wanted him to touch me more as he did before. I whined quietly, then turned my head, and whined some more.

“Sweet, please do not make me wai..” SLAP

I yelped, and the noise transformed into a delicious moan.

“I told you to do what you must, and you must wait…”

“Ohhh yes sweet, but I…” SLAP

His slaps were not hurtful, but they left a wonderful redness to the skin which made me feel so naughty. I loved how after each slap, his hand would not only massage the area of my bum, but float down to the wetness of my folds, stroking and rubbing petals between his fingers. I felt as if I was being tested. He was seeing what made me moan and whimper, and he was succeeding by being within one foot distance of me, let alone doing all of this. It was a delectable feeling, having him softly use his other hand to massage the upper back and neck as his lower hand played and used me to his will. I felt utterly relaxed, and yet when his stroking on my ladyparts stopped, an immediate anticipation grew to a peak, expecting a…

SLAP “OOOOHHHH, ohhh, yes, sweet, please, please, please,” I moaned and sung in the most wanton way.

“I will take care of you, my love, but only how I see fit.” SLAP

The endlessness of this activity was not a worry for me. I could lay in this way, being toyed with by my handsome scientist hubby for ages. Never had I felt so vulnerable. Never had I been pleasured in this manner. It was a freedom earned through submission, a beauty earned through the ecstatic position I was in.

“Ohhh, please, mmmmmmm” more strokes eased me down from the peak of the slap to by derriere.

SLAP, stroke, SLAP, stroke, SLAP, stroke, SLAP, stroke.

Each was better than the last, and I at last moaned a loud and yet so weak, “pleasssseeeee,” I needed him to take me, to put his manhood in its rightful throne, and to release his regal blessings into my womb. I desired it now more than I had ever before. I had reached a state of orgasm once… no, twice… no, thrice… who knows, but the Lord Himself. I never counted, and I never wished to, for it could go on eternally, and I would enjoy his touch, his sensual thumbing of my bum. In response to my plea, I felt myself being arched back slightly by his hand,

“Sophia, you know the rules. How will I tend to you?” At this point, his fingers went into my

“Sweet, I need you!”

“How?” his voice was deeper, richer. This was not a tone that scared me. It made me crumble and fall, eroding into the wet stream which sprung into a waterfall in my nether regions. It was loving, but confident.

“How you see fit, beloved.”

“Yes, how I see fit.”

He then prompted me to stand up, and I did. He held me as I stood against his sitting body, such that he could reach around and massage my bum. He slowly massaged it, not slapping it any more. My hands rested on his shoulders, looking back to how he softly kissing my waist and tummy, his lips nearing my navel.

“Are you hurt? I was careful, but I fear I may have gone too far, I am not sure what came over me.”

“No, sweet, I loved it so, so much,” I spoke softly, still weak from his fingers and hands.

“Good. So I will continue.”

He then stood up, and spun me about, until I faced him. My face was looking at our feet, shy from what had just occurred. I was so free to let him make me feel such beautiful things, but too nervous to look him in the eyes. His hand lifted my chin to his gaze.

“Sophia, you are beautiful. Can we keep going?”

“Yes, sweet.”

“Take off my clothing,” he said as he neared me, “Now.”

His deep growl had me shivering. I worked on his buttons, and slowly got his shirt off of him.

“Put it on the chair.”

I folded the shirt and placed it on the vanity chair. When I turned around, he had his trousers and undergarment almost off of himself. He handed it to me, and I placed it on the chair. He was staring at me for what seemed like hours, examining my body. He started circling me, like a hunter scouting out his prey, his fingers reaching to me and grazing my skin. As he stood behind me, his breath was soft but warm on my neck, and his lips did one of my favourite things, sucking on the skin of my neck, powerfully.

“Oh, sweet, I love that so much!” I moaned and exclaimed when his lips were devouring my neck.

One of his arms encircles the top of my chest, and the other grabs my breast, kneading and twisting my buds.

“I love your breasts, especially. So soft, like your entire body, they are so milky and soft… and sensitive.”

He twisted one of my nubs and I cried out in ecstatic pain. I writhed and squealed, unable to move away from his grasp, and yet unwilling to. I wanted to stay here, as much as I felt as if I had no power. I craved this state of being.

“Do you like it when I do this, my love?”

“Yes… yes sweet…”

“I love your beautiful thighs, so round and bountiful.” His hands rubbed my thighs, and even lightly slapped the side of them. I loved this feeling, the way in which he indirectly tells me that I am his, and he may play with me as he wishes. His manhood was warm and as hardened as steel, burning its imprint on my bum. I was wanton, I wanted him to pull my legs apart and enter me. My king needs his kingdom, and I am here to be claimed.

“You are absolutely wonderful tonight. I am going to have to scream your every breath. Until then, you will not sleep.”

“Ohhhhh, yes..” I was interrupted by his fingers stroking my petals.

“Sophia, I did not hear a proper response.”

“Sorry swe… swee… sorry sir….”

I felt as if the Earth had halted in its rotation, and my eyes fluttered. I do not know from where I had found the word, the phrase, but I did. I felt horrible, but immensely relieved. As if an invisible weight had been released from my shoulders.

“Sophia, what did you just say?” My beloved’s hands rested on my waist, his words whispered into my ear.

“I am so sorry, sweet,” I mumbled as I covered my face. My husband was moving his hands about my waist, holding me tight to him. His spear was resting against my bum still, pointing upwards.

“Please do not apologize,” my husband said as he turned me to face him. My hands were folded in front of him. He felt regal and sacred in front of my eyes. There was something sweetly sensual about standing in such a vulnerable way in front of him – without clothing, my nether regions flooding at his touch, my buds on my breasts red with pleasurable pain. But I felt no shame. I was his, now. He may view and delight in my form as he wishes, and I may feel beautiful at him doing so.

“I am so sorry, I do not know why I felt this way. I… love…”

“You never have to apologize. I am taken aback, but I love that you trust me enough to refer to me like this, and to let me touch you like this. I am honoured, to have that trust.”

“So you are not angry? Or worried?”

“Not at all. I understand you feel safe, and perhaps your brain used this word because it expressed that?”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you…” I started to tear up, leaning into his body as he hugged me. His warm manhood rested against my tummy, and his arms wrapped around me. I did feel safe. I said, “Sir,” not because I am lesser to him, but because he felt so larger than life, a being who chose me, to love and protect me, and whose eyes would float to no other woman, for I am his woman.

“Come, follow me, Sophia.”

I silently followed his lead, as his hand held mine towards the bed. Though his words were measured and firm, and never quite commanding, I took each word as commands. From my very own king.

“Lie down.” I lied down on my tummy, my bum pointed at him, and my lip being bit as I imagined what was to come.

“Stretch out your legs.” I parted my legs, exposing my wet waterfall to my dear King. He grasped by ankles, and softly stretched out my legs further, until I was in one of our favourite positions: bow and arrow. My legs are the bow, with my upper body being the arrow. However, I sometimes imagine that else is the arrow, one I would love to be struck with over and over, as I pant and feel myself being open and used, every inch of inner being explored by a ravaging animal within the body of a patient and tactically erotic man.

My darling King bent down, and kissed up my spine, his wonderful ramrod searing like magma in between the mounds of my bum. He slowly touched its tip to my petals, about to enter and water my garden, but he teased me.

“My love, what do you want?”

“Sss… Sir?”

“I like that, Sophia. But more importantly, I want to be able to tend to you. But you must tell me what you want.” His final words were growled into my ear, and I moaned loudly.

“Sir… I need your… your penis.”

“So exact with your words, haha,” his laugh bellowed within my ears. I was glad to entertain my King.

“Please, sir!” I exclaimed.

“Where do you want it, Sophia? Out in the ether? I want to help you, but you have to say.”

Whilst saying this, one hand wrapped around my throat from underneath, whilst the other kneaded my bum, giving it a firm and succulent slap. My lower body hopped up, and flexed at him. I was responding subconsciously to his touch. I was under his spell, and trained to respond to the actions of my King. I would wish it to be no other way.

“I… I want it in my flower.”

“Consider it done.”

He suddenly rammed himself into me, eliciting from me a loud and delectable, “OOHHHHHHHHHHHH!” He started slow and careful strokes within me, turning his hips as he holds my legs apart. His arrow was sharp, and dipped in the tasty poison of love. A capable King, and a capable warrior in the battlefield of the sensual.

I have had an innumerable amount of orgasms, and each by his hand. I simply wish to communicate my gratitude to my King, to the way he makes me writhe and turn in ecstatic pain, in bittersweet absence of his being. It is freedom beyond freedom. It is no longer a union of two separate people, but one flesh. I have become his, and he may pleasure me and be pleasured by me to his heart’s content! I was groggy and tired, yet alive and energetic all simultaneously.

“OH, YES YES YES YES, MMMMMM…” I moaned and groaned at his strokes.

“Yes, my love, you like that, yes?” His hand was once again about my throat, his other slapping my bum. It was too much at one point, and I started incoherently babbling as my husband led me to new castles of pleasure in the heavens. This was the only time he would be within me tonight, but all that had occurred and had been stated thus far had inspired us to new heights. His groans were more measured, like the scientist he claimed to be. He was passionately testing my limits, and I was a willing test subject.

At every stroke where his body contacted my bum, I whimpered and made inhuman noises. His hand grabbed my hair, and tugged ever so slightly. What was this man doing to me? Who am I now? I am his woman. He is enjoying his woman, and she is loving it all. He then leaned down, and turned my neck to him, kissing me deep. His tongue invaded my mouth, examining each inch of my being from his lips. I submitted, allowing him to do so. I loved every moment, as his manhood conquered me, had me under his reign, and his lips heartily devoured my own. The sight would have been fantastical, magical… utterly romantic, and yet so naughty.

“Ohhh, yes, yes, yes, yes… yee… y…. yes SIR YESSSS!” Another orgasm. Another beautiful peak which my husband had led me to.

I was the King’s wanton lover, a nubile bride who is on his bed, in his chambers. I silently prayed to the Lord, thanking Him for my husband, my King. I am so blessed by God to be here, let alone to have all of what I do. A beautiful life, a beautiful husband, a child given to me through my husband’s loving gift within my womb.

“COME HERE!” His loud command was pleasurable to hear as is, but he curved me back, my back bent slightly up. I do many stretches and exercises, so this was simple to me. But I could not withstand what was to come.

“What do you want?”

“I… want… sir… I want you… ohhh..” I was lost in his manhood, exploring my deepest cave and touching me in such a way within that my English vocabulary disappeared.

“I want you… your…”

“I know. I love you, and now,” he paused to kiss my neck, and slowed his strokes to match the speed of my breathes, “I will give you a gift fit for a woman of your stature. You will accept.”

“YES SIR, PLEASEEEEEEE!”

His hand then pushed my head down onto the bed firmly, but gently, and his pace quickened as he continually slapped my bum. He then pounded harder and harder, until our groans become one.

“Give me what I deserve, Sir, please!”

“Sophia, I… AHHH!’

As his voice bellowed and echoed through the room, I felt him release into me. My King had found his throne, and his pride in his kingdom was spoken through sweet words. His sweet release was heavy and filling my womb, as I felt his regal decree travel through my most intimate lands. I could not move. He fell onto me, and breathed slowly, our bodies staying together.

His member slowly softened, leaving my garden abandoned, but with a special gift planted deep within. I felt as if none of his gift had left me. He had planted it so deep, so intimately within me, that the King’s gift shall remain unabridged. I lay still, unable to move. My legs were separated still, my bum and flower exposed. If he wished to, he could very well lay his conquest of me again, a thousand times over this night, and I would be a willing recipient. But it seems our sudden spurge of what must have been some time had him finished. He had a tiring day, and the play we had prior to his entrance into me was long and beautiful, so perhaps he was spent.

He slowly moved me up to a lying down position on my side, and he moved into the other side of the bed, wrapping us both in covers, as the chill of the night slowly gained upon us. He wrapped me in his arms, even as I was still groggy and in pure shock of what I believe to be one of the most – if not the most – wonderful sessions of love making and sensual exploration we have ever had together. I started to cry, without end or shame. I leaned into his chest, his arms wrapped warmly around me, as I cried rivers.

“Sweet, I love you!”

“I love you, Sophia.”

I cried more and more, repeatedly sharing my love and admiration for him, my gratitude.

“Sophia, you never need to apologize. You shared with me, how trusting you are of me. What have I done, to deserve this? Yet, I am here. I will never abuse your trust. Let me lead you, let me tend to you my love, yes?”

“Yes, sweet… yes, sir…”

He lifted my gaze, my teary eyes, to his. He leaned in for a kiss, which was not like the one before. It was softer, yet firm. My lips were dominated before, but now they were asked to join my King’s. I obliged. It was soft, like a beautiful song. It was not a loud and magnificent orchestra, a dramatic dance of the lips. It was a soft violin, playing in the background as words of great love are spoken between two people in absolute silence.

“Sweet… oh, beloved, what have you done to me?” I giggled and panted as I looked into his eyes.

“I have made you what you are meant to be in this world: my wife. I love you, my dear. I would suffer the cruelest sufferings, if it meant a glimpse of your beautiful bosom. A taste of the nectar flowing from your lips. A mere brush of the hills upon your waist and legs. I have made you that, the object of all of my desires.” His hands moved across my body, softly grazing and massaging each. I felt so loved. I felt wonderfully his.

“I love you!” I declared, as I hugged him tightly.

“You are the mother of my child. I am so proud of you, and I am blessed beyond my understanding.”

“I will be a mother to a thousand more lovely children, if it means having a piece of you in me.”

“I know. Consider it done.”

With this, I am made his Woman. He is made my King. As he held me, I could feel a familiar mark on my neck glow brightly, a marking which he puts upon me. A sign of conquering. A sign that this body, this Woman, has joined this wonderful Man, to become something more beautiful than all of the kingdoms of all of the lands that exist. Distance may separate us for a time. Death, may depart us from one another in this physical world. But what we share in our most private moments, here and now, is real. I now serve my King. Not as his lesser, but as someone for whom he would give his life, whilst I would give him all the delight he could imagine. Yet, one luscious desire remains: when shall he next conquer me again?

---

Thank you for reading this wonderful story. Upon writing of this story, our child’s first birthday is fast approaching! My darling husband is excited, and is making his plans – as his logical mind does – for a special and meaningful celebration with our beautiful princess. Meanwhile, I am praying each and every time he releases into me, that another child shall come out of our love. Only the Lord knows when to bless us with a child, but we shall make wondrous love in an effort to create the perfect medium for life to grow within me once again. I enjoyed each moment of pregnancy, and being a mother thus far. I seek to carry more wonderful children, born out of the essence of our love.

I wish to formally apologize if this story has been too forthcoming, or too powerful in its themes and language. My intention is to inspire and comfort, never to provoke repugnancy. Please forgive me if the latter is the case. I truly do feel this way, and my husband has supported and fully grown into the dominant role in both our married life and household generally, as well as in the bedroom. The flavour and spice this brings, is beyond momentary. I feel safe knowing I am his, and I wish to be his until my final moments on this Earth.

Sending to you all our sincerest prayers, love and hugs.

Joyfully in Christ,

SophTea <3