My Hunger (L)

(L) – This story contains strong language. 

Mike slowly pulled out.

I felt happy, used, and now empty with him no longer inside me, his cum running down my inner thigh.  His eyes took in my body, and he grinned as he wiped his fingers through the wetness between my legs and brought it to his mouth.

“You are the best fucking wife a man could ever have!”

I smiled, a lazy, sated smile.  I reached for his cock, which was still glistening with our combined fluids.

“I hope you’re not done, because I’m not,” I told him in a sultry voice.

My hand closed around his cock.  It was soft, spent from filling me.  I stroked him slowly, watching his eyes darken again.  He moaned softly.

“You heard me, baby,” I whispered.  “I’m not done.”

I let go of him and sank to my knees on the kitchen floor.  The floor was cool and hard under my knees.  I looked up at him, his pants still open, his shirt rumpled, his expression one of raw, hungry shock.  This was the thrill.  Not just the sex, but the power of surprising him, of taking what I wanted.

“What are you doing, Amiee?” His voice was a low rumble.

“I’m going to taste you,” I said, my eyes locked on his.  “I’m going to taste us.  I’m going to suck your cock until it’s hard again, baby.  I’m going to suck it until you’re fucking my mouth.”

I didn’t wait for permission.  I leaned forward, my hands on his thighs for balance.  I nuzzled his softness, my lips brushing the sensitive skin.  I licked long and slow from the base of his shaft all the way up to the tip, lapping up the sticky mix of his cum and my wetness.

Mike groaned, his hands coming to rest on the back of my head.  “Fuck, Amiee!”

“That’s the idea,” I murmured against his skin.  I took the head of his cock into my mouth.  It was still soft, yielding.  Sucking gently, my tongue swirling around the head, I felt him twitch.  I sucked harder, applying a steady, rhythmic pressure.  My hand joined in, stroking what my mouth couldn’t yet take, my fingers slick with spit and the remnants of our fucking.

I could feel him growing, thickening, filling my mouth.  It was a slow, delicious transformation.  I moaned around him, the vibration making his hips jerk.  Yes!  He was getting hard for me.  For my mouth.

“That’s it,” he grunted, his fingers tangling in my hair.  “Suck me, baby.  Get me nice and hard for you.”

I increased the pace, bobbing my head, taking more of him with each downward stroke.  To let him slide deeper, I relaxed my throat, focusing on the sensations: the salty taste of his skin, the smooth, hot weight of him on my tongue, the way his breathing grew ragged.  I was making a mess, spit dripping down my chin onto my huge tits.  I wanted it messy.  I wanted it nasty.

I pulled off, gasping for air.  His cock stood rigid and angry-red, glistening with my saliva.

“Look at you,” I panted, stroking him fast.  “Look how hard you are for my mouth, baby.  You love my fucking mouth, don’t you?”

“I fucking love it,” he growled, pushing his hips forward.  “Now get it back on me.”

I opened my mouth wide and took him back in, this time aiming to take him all.  I pushed forward, letting the head of his cock bump against the back of my throat.  I swallowed, relaxing the muscles, and he slid deeper.  Oh God.  He was so big.  I could feel him stretching my mouth, filling my throat.  Tears pricked the corners of my eyes.  I didn’t stop, instead pushing further until I felt him hit the entrance to my throat.

I held there, my throat working around him, eyes watering.  The feeling was intense, overwhelming, perfect.  I was completely full of him.  I tasted his pre-cum, feeling every pulse of his heartbeat in the thick vein on the underside of his cock.

Mike’s groan was long and deep.  “Oh my God, Amiee.  You’re deep-throating me.  You’re taking my whole fucking cock down your throat!”

I pulled back slowly, gasping as the air hit my wet lips.  A string of spit connected my mouth to his tip.  Looking him in the eye, I declared, “I want all of it.  I want to feel you fuck my throat.  I want you to hold my head and use my mouth, baby.  Use it like you used my pussy.”

That was all the encouragement he needed.  Tightening his hands in my hair—not gently this time—he guided my head back onto his cock.  Then he pushed forward, fucking into my mouth with short, sharp thrusts, setting the pace.

“Open wider,” he commanded.

I obeyed, letting my jaw go slack.

He drove deeper, his hips pistoning.  The sound was obscene—wet, gagging, sloppy.  Spit flew.  I focused on breathing through my nose, on keeping my throat relaxed, on taking every inch he gave me.  My own arousal was throbbing between my legs.  A pool of nectar formed on the floor under my pussy.

“You like that, don’t you?” he grunted, looking down at me.  “You like being on your knees, sucking your husband’s cock like a fucking slut. You like me fucking your pretty face.”

Unable to speak, I moaned, a guttural, affirmative sound that vibrated around his shaft.  I reached between my legs and found my swollen clit.  I rubbed hard, in time with his thrusts.  The dual stimulation was dizzying.  The stretch of my mouth, the rough grip of his hand in my hair, the frantic rubbing on my clit . . . it was all too much, and yet not enough.

“I can feel you gagging on me,” Mike said, his voice strained.  “I can feel your throat squeezing my cock.  You want me to cum?  You want me to shoot my load down your fucking throat, Amiee?”

I nodded the best I could, my eyes pleading up at him.  Yes.  Yes!  Please!

His thrusts became faster, harder, less controlled.  He was chasing his climax, using my mouth for his pleasure.  I redoubled my efforts on my clit, my own orgasm coiling tight, ready to snap.  I could taste the salt of his pre-cum, feel his balls tightening against my chin.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his voice a harsh rasp.  “Swallow it.  Swallow every fucking drop!”

With a final, deep thrust that buried him to the hilt, he stilled.  A hot, pulsing jet hit the back of my throat.  Then another.  And another.  I swallowed desperately, the taste bitter and salty . . . and his.  All his.  I kept swallowing, milking him with my throat, until he was spent.

He pulled out slowly, his cock slipping from my mouth with a soft, wet sound.  I gasped, sucking in huge lungfuls of air.  My lips were swollen and dripping saliva and cum.  I looked up at him, my vision blurry with unshed tears of effort and ecstasy.

Mike gazed at me, his chest heaving.  “Stand up.”

Keep watching for what happened next!