This story contains strong language (L)
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I stared at him across the table, then stole a glance at the clock. The anticipation was killing me, but we didn’t want to be rude. I rolled the dice, moved across the game board, and once again checked how long until we would be returning home.

My husband and lover of 18 months sat across the table, enjoying the opportunity to share food and games with friends after what had been the toughest harvest in memory. As he joked with our companions, I couldn’t help but scheme over what fun was yet to come that evening.

At the stroke of ten, I cashed out of the game, prompted him to do the same, and blamed our early departure on my impending week away from home. Racing to the car and beaming as his rumbling farm truck pulled up behind me, I led the way to our house, where my plans for fun were just about to begin.

I ran into the house to get ready to greet him. The welcome home was more than he expected. The door was hardly closed behind him before I pressed his muscled back against it, my lips devouring his mouth, his neck, his chest as I insistently tasted the husband I was to be away from for the next five days.

We danced clumsily as he removed his coat and boots, while my hungry mouth never left his skin. My hands ran through his hair and across his broad shoulders, then down his chiseled chest and around to his firm ass. How blessed I am that God has given me this man as my protector, my provider, and my passion.

He began walking me backward, easing me into our basement suite, where I had strategically closed the blinds before leaving earlier in the day. As we crossed the threshold into the kitchen, I knew I couldn’t wait until we made it the extra twenty steps to the bedroom. I had to have him now.

My heart raced, and my breath caught as I took control in a way I never had before. Pushing him back against the fridge, I greedily reached for his belt and massaged his firm ass cheeks as his pants fell to the floor. The smell of his excitement met me as I nuzzled against the front of his briefs, and seeping precum showed this would be a welcome reception.

“Babe, are you sure? I didn’t get the chance to showe—” His weak protest melted into sighs as I ripped down his briefs and engulfed his member in my warm and wanting mouth. Oral is a treat we have discussed and attempted before, but often our newlywed ambitions race too fast for more than a few licks. The chances to bless my husband in this way had grown fewer and further between during my pregnancy. Now I was desperate to put the morning sickness and nausea behind me to pleasure my husband.

His hands worked their way into my hair as I bounced, bobbed, licked, and sucked the powerful rod that had put a baby inside me only months before. As my indulgent moans vibrated around his member, his groans were followed by a desperate tugging as his hands fought to free me from my shirt.

He pulled me from my knees on the kitchen floor and hungrily kissed me, tasting his early excitement on my lips as he propelled us to the bedroom. I perched on the edge of the bed and firmly grabbed his hips, intent on finishing what I had started. As I resumed my oral ministrations, his strong and calloused hands found their delight in fondling my now exposed breasts. My breath caught as he tweaked first one, then the other nipple, sending electricity through my core. As he grazed, massaged, and pinched my enlarged globes (praise the Lord for pregnancy tits), my mouth fell from his member in a gasp of gratification.

“Babe, how am I supposed to keep teasing you like this while your hands work so marvelously?”

“Maybe it’s time for me to do some teasing!” And with that, he threw me backward onto the bed, ripped off the few remnants of my clothes, and propped up my hips for a teasing taste of his own.

My eyes fluttered, and my heart pounded as my legs went over his shoulders. His golden head disappeared into my private place, and I couldn’t contain my gasps as his warm tongue passed across my lips and nuzzled against all the right places. As I clenched the sheets beneath me into my fists and writhed in pleasure, I heard the footsteps of our upstairs neighbors fleeing the room above us.

“Well, now that the neighborhood knows what we’re up to, there’s no shame in a real soundtrack,” he said, then vigorously attacked my clit with licks and sucks and a tongue plunging into my vagina. My back arched in pleasure, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole street could hear that I was the luckiest woman alive.

Colours flashed across my vision, and my hips rose insistently to meet his mouth. His strong hands held my hips firmly as I cried out for more – faster, slower, stronger, deeper. The mattress creaked as my hips fought to thrust freely against his face. Then, with hardly a moment’s transition, I felt his hands massaging my inner core. Teasing, testing, pushing first one, then two fingers into a warm and wet vagina anxious and impatient to be filled. I cried out as his thumb brushed across my clit, and the world spun as he declared I was plenty wet enough.

He slid my hips to the edge of the mattress and kept my legs over his shoulders as he rose. The firmness of his thick and pulsing rod waited for my invitation as he pressed against my entrance.

“Give it to me now!” was all the instruction it took. My husband’s deep thrust quickly answered my plea, claiming me as his own. As my walls expanded to accommodate his substantial girth, I moaned, and my back arched while waves of fiery bliss washed over me. “Yes! More! Yes! Please!” my cries beat out rhythmically as he pounded into me. I didn’t care who could hear that I am my lover’s and he is mine.

I begged him to thrust deeper, to slam into me and fill me with his seed, but instead, he withdrew. He pulled me to my feet, caressed my breasts, then sucked one teat into his warm and hungry mouth. Adoring the pleasure, but adamant about achieving his release, I pressed him to sit on the bed and straddled his lap. Ignoring the growing baby bump, I threw myself down onto his erect and waiting penis, reveling in the perfect fullness and depth that he could claim within me.

I pulled his head deeper into my bosom as I thrust, rocked, and ground my pelvis against his, squealing as his mouth latched onto my sensitive nipples. I could feel him tensing for release and ground myself harder and deeper, clenching his member with my private place. His mouth released my nipple with a pop as his head dropped back and his fingernails raked across my back. I delighted in his pulsing member as he coated my insides, and I continued to ride him until he finished.

Then I relaxed in his arms, celebrating this special moment of unity after a complicated season of farming woes and pregnancy symptoms. I am my beloved’s, and he is mine. I refused to look at the clock and remember my nearing departure for a retreat that would keep me from my husband for days.

Gently, I kissed across his sunburnt face and felt the bristle of his beard against the soft and sensitive skin of my lips. My hands found his shoulders, knotted but strong from years of hard labour and unrelenting conditions. I marvelled at his strength, his endurance, his perseverance, and yet his willingness to be present and patient with me as we navigate life together. Looking longingly into his deep, denim-blue eyes, I thanked God for the blessing of this wonderful, steadfast man.

Returning my gaze, my husband asked if I’d had enough. Excited by the prospect to extend this bliss, I told him I would never tire of his love. He gathered me up, and we moved to the living room couch to relax and recover before resuming our marriage bed antics.

We alternated massages, doting on each other’s every need as we released the weeks of stress and drew nearer to each other, preparing for the season to come. He sighed as I worked the knots from his back and moaned as I massaged his neck and shoulders. I purred as he coyly moved from the tension in my shoulders to the trepidation in my breasts. As his strong fingers grasped for flesh, I knew he had recovered enough for Round Two.

Without acknowledging my awareness of his readiness, I pushed the blankets aside. The living room air brought gooseflesh to our hot skin. I began massaging down his legs, straddling him as I faced his feet and slowly rubbed my hands along his quads, his calves, his ankles. As I reached his feet, I began to dutifully work on them while keeping my knees by his thighs. His tall frame dwarfs me in comparison, so to adequately massage his feet, I had to stretch. I allowed my nipples to tickle languidly along his knees and shins as I rocked back and forth. As I worked his feet, I kept my ass and pussy in the air to taunt him. Where did this exhibitionism come from?

Very soon, he took the hint from my less-than-subtle signs and slowly, tantalizingly, traced a line from my knee up the inside of my quivering thigh and back down. He switched sides and repeated, getting torturously close to my trimmed lips but never giving me the satisfaction. He continued this leisurely taunting until I fell facedown against his shins, grinding my tits against his legs and desperately pushing my hips towards him for gratification.

Then suddenly, he stopped.

I cried out in protest, demanding that he not only resume but give me the satisfaction of contact with my nether region.

“Oh I’m sorry dear, with you laid out like that, I didn’t know if you were awake enough to appreciate it,” he teased.

I swung around, dangling my breasts for his viewing pleasure as I straddled him again. “How’s this for ‘awake enough’?” I desperately worked a hand into his hair and clutched his mouth to mine while working my other hand and my pussy lips against his rising erection. Our tongues danced and wrestled, our moans uncontainable. Those poor upstairs neighbors we heard relocating again, and we giggled as their television volume increased.

As his rod pulsed in my hand, I knew I couldn’t contain the wanton spirit within me. Nor did I need to with my husband, the man given to me to love and cherish, the only flesh I have never known. I began to grind my pelvis against his powerful rod and begged that he fill me again as soon as he was ready. The heat and hardness I felt below me seemed ready, yet he was not in a hurry.

“How do you want it?”

“Deep. In me. Now.”

“But where should I give it to you?” His genuine concern for my enjoyment was endearing, but my hungry vagina felt insatiable.

“Fuck. Me. Now.” I demanded as I threw my arms over the back of the couch, widened my knees, and completely surrendered my body to his control. It felt primal, but I needed him in me, and I needed to be overpowered.

“Fuck me now. Fuck me knowing that I’m gone all week. Fuck me hard as punishment for leaving you on your own this week. Fuck me well as a reward for the earlier antics. Fuck me for something to remember while I’m alone in the hotel room. Whatever reason you need—just get inside me now!”

With that, my head snapped back as he wrapped my long hair around one fist and used the other hand to guide his raging cock into my waiting vagina. The couch shook as he mastered me, thrusting deeply and claiming me once again. The only thing louder than the moving furniture and slapping flesh was my cries of “Yes! Please! Oh! Yes! More!”

His hands traveled to my swollen breasts again, and his rhythm changed as his thrusts rolled deeply into me. He pinched and rolled my nipples. In ecstasy, I cried out and arched my back, bracing one hand against the couch. The other traveled to my breast to encourage him to knead deeper and harder into the mounds that will one day nurture our children.

My hips pressed back against him in desperation. I felt as though his deep thrusts would split me apart yet meld together anything broken within me. His hands clawed at my hips to pull me into his deepening thrusts, and I knew we were nearing the finale. I dropped my face and shoulders to the seat of the couch and pressed into him.

The change in angles fueled him anew. With my ass in the air, he spread my knees further, opening my vulnerability and rendering me hopelessly enamoured. He thrust once more, then held me tight against him as his release rippled through his body and filled my vagina once again. He stroked my hair, fondled my breasts, and drew me up from the couch cushion.

“Did you get what you wanted?” he asked.

“Ah, my love, I got what I needed and more.”