(A) – This story contains anal play.
(L) – This story contains strong language.
It was a beautiful Saturday, sunny and early afternoon around 12pm my husband was downstairs making breakfast. I woke to the smell of warm apples and cinnamon—I knew he was making these incredible vegan apple pancakes that he does so well.
We were so spent from the week working long hours in entertainment that he probably wanted to treat me. There have been so many good changes in the industry and our work has picked quite a bit. Storytelling has always been one of our greatest bonds and seeing God as the Master Storyteller is a sacred part of what makes us feel called to this work. We mostly work separately, but at times together.
This week had seen some long hours on set for me and a lot of international travel for him, scouting locations with his team for a film he’s working on. We do our best to stay connected (lots of video calls, airport bathroom quickies, sexting and mutual masturbation) and it’s so deeply erotic, but nothing is more satisfying than being together and making love, especially in our home.
Thankfully, this morning had been very restful for us. We got to sleep in, and had some very tender lovemaking the night before, though we kept it short, and fell deeply asleep in each others arms. My husband woke up first. I felt him watching me and gently stroking my soft, bare back as slept on my stomach. He stayed for a bit then kissed my lower back and left, and I fell back asleep.
But it was hard to get back to sleep with the smell of apples and cinnamon wafting into my room from downstairs. I decided to get up and shower. Afterwards, I smelled like jasmine and vanilla—my favorite—and I put on these tight but sheer white boy-shorts and a matching thin and sheer tank top. My hair was up in a messy bun at the top of my head.
As I walked downstairs and into the kitchen, my husband turned his head and almost immediately turned red. The first day we met he turned that same bright red. I laughed to myself as I remembered and walked over to hug him. I love the way he squeezes me. His tight grip and sweet neck kisses started to generate a little wetness in my pussy.
I pulled out of our embrace and he kissed me gently and whispered in my ear, “Good morning, gorgeous.”
I felt his warm hand up the back of my tank top. As he stared into my eyes, his eyes kind of sparkled a bit.
We chatted for a while as I watched him finish the pancakes. I did nothing but watch him. He set the table and cleaned. All the while, I could see a noticeable bulge forming in his grey sweatpants. He was shirtless—my favorite.
While we talked and he worked, he would steal glances at my nipples, which were starting to poke through my thin tank top.
“Would you like some fruit while you wait?” he asked.
“Yes, my love, thank you,” I replied.
He cut up a honeydew melon for me into long slices, which I ate with my hands. Unfortunately it was really ripe, and the juice kept dripping down my lips. I notice he looked distracted and frustrated as I kept licking my lips and my fingers.
“Is everything okay?” I teased.
“Oh, yeah, fine. Is the melon okay?”
“It is, thank you.” I glanced away coyly.
I watched as he grew more uncomfortable. I would catch him rubbing his beard while cooking and letting out deep breaths of frustration, frequently glancing over at me. I pretended not to notice as I got up to pour myself some orange juice, with my back to him.
Before I knew it, I felt a hand reach around me and another hand take the orange juice from my hand. He pressed his mouth to the back of my neck, kissing it. I enjoyed the warmth of his body and pushed back a little so his erection pressed into my back. But when I tried to pull away, he pulled me back into him aggressively.
“No,” he said, simply and firmly. “Are you hungry?”
That seemed like an odd question to pair with his aggressive advances, but I answered anyway.
“Yes, I am.”
“Me too,” he said, then spun me around, kissing me deeply and forcing his tongue into my month. We kissed passionately until I was practically breathless. I felt him reach around and push his hands into the back of my tight shorts, grabbing and squeezing my ass. Both of our eyes were open, so I could see his eyes were fixed on mine. I started to feel so wet and looked down to see that I had soaked through my sheer shorts. He saw this too. I felt a little shy about it and looked away, smiling sheepishly.
He pulled my chin back so I had no choice but to look him right in the eye, and he said, “Take off your shorts. Now.”
I obeyed, and he lifted me quickly onto the counter and began eating me out. He feasted on me like he had been starving, and wasn’t interested in eating the pancakes he made. I got lost in the ecstasy of him squeezing my nipples through my tank top and feeling his hot tongue in my tight pussy, exploring me. I starting cumming violently and screaming. Already, I was so sensitive.
I begged him, “Oh, baby wait, wait, ahhhh, ahhhh, it’s too much! I’m so sensitive, just waiiiitt!”
He yelled, “No! I want you right now!”
He rose up and pulled me off the counter, flipping me around and forcing me down on the counter. My nipples stiffened even further as they met the cold countertop. I turned my head to the side as he leaned over me with his mouth pressed against my ear.
“You like teasing me, don’t you baby?—Walking around here with this tight, thin little number, making my dick so hard. You don’t want breakfast, you want me to fuck you, don’t you? Admit it!”
“Yes, baby,” I said. “I want you to fuck me good and rough. Take me, use me! Last night wasn’t enough. Please!”
He spanked me after that for a good five minutes. I cried from the sheer intensity, and the fact that he was making me wait and beg for his dick. With my body still face down on the counter, he pulled my hair out of its bun, grabbed a fist of it, and pulled my head back firmly. I wiggled, trying to resist him and the rough spankings. This kind of play intensifies my orgasms so much—the feeling of him forcing me to take it.
Finally I feel him pull his hard, wet dick out of his sweats and slap and rub my pussy with it. He went on saying the filthiest things in my ear.
“You turn me on so much,” he practically growled. “You have no idea what you do to me. I’m going to fuck you until you scream!” With that, he slowly entered me, and a wave of pleasure was unleashed through my whole body.
He started slowly fucking me while I moaned deeply. He pulled me up from the counter, reached around to grab my throat, and gently choked me. He knows I like this, and only does it with my consent. The sensation is amazing. I feel so relaxed and dominated.
I heard him grunt loudly. He pulled out of me, lifted me up, carried me over to the couch, and set me down facing the back of it and away from him. He pulled off my tank top, so I was then completely naked in front of him. He grabbed my breasts, gently massaged them and pulled my nipples, like he was milking me. I let out deep moans at both the sensations and being treated like this.
He pushed me to over the back of the couch, stuck his rod in my dripping hole, and thrust in hard, quickly picking up speed.
I dangled over the couch as he fucked me hard and fast, pushing me down and pounding me hard. I felt my heart racing. I was lost in him fucking me roughly, pulling my hair and spanking me.
At one point I turned back with my mouth open in shock and amazement. He looked at me with a smile and yelled, “Turn around and take this fucking dick!”
Slipping out of me for just a moment—so fast I couldn’t react through the haze of arousal—he picked up my tank top off the floor, then rammed into me again. In a moment, he pulled my hands behind my back and tied them there with my discarded tank top. With my hands tied up, I felt my hair get pulled back again, and his heavy balls continued slapping loudly against my ass. The mixed sounds of his grunting and my screaming filled the room. Sound is a big turn on for me, so as I started zeroing in on the slapping sounds while being fucked, a primal feeling overtook me.
I yelled “Ohhh, take it, oh, make me take it, I’m your whore baby. Do me! Don’t stop! Make me take it!” As I screamed, I felt his big hand cover my mouth, muffling my cries.
I heard him moaning, and he said, “Mhmm, good girl, you’re taking this fucking so good baby.”
At that moment, a massive orgasm ripped through me. He slowed his pace, letting me come to, then began thrusting slowly again while pressing his thumb into my ass. Almost immediately, another huge wave hit me. I felt him pull me, turn me around and push me down. My mouth found his meat and I started sucking slowly. Between my copious wetness on his cock and the addition of my saliva, it quickly became so much that I began drooling, but I didn’t care. If anything, that made it hotter. I was overcome with desire for him.
He moved his hands around my face, gently using my mouth to fuck himself. He repeated, “Good girl, you’re taking this fucking so good.” I took him so deep that I was gagging, but also moaning profusely. Tears streamed down my face as I took him deep into my throat. He pulled out of my mouth and I gasped for air.
He walked me around the couch, perhaps thinking my tears meant we were done. We headed to the couch, ready to collapse on each other, spent. But I realized that, despite all the passion, he hadn’t come yet.
Just as I was about to point this out, he pushed me down on the coach, knelt over me and said, “I’m not done with you yet,” and began rubbing his still-hard dick with one hand and rubbing my clit. No, he didn’t think we were done. He wasn’t done using me!
Before I knew it, his dick was in me again, pumping away as he rubbed my clit. I was so sensitive I couldn’t take it, but somehow I still loved it so much!
I cried out, “Oh baby, please it’s too much!”
He leaned down and said firmly, “You’re gonna take this fucking for teasing me. Take it. Take it!”
I love how expressive he is.
I screamed, “Oh, fuck me baby! Fuck me, use me! Ahhh, ohh, fuckkkk!”
He pulled out and sprayed his cum all over my breasts and face. I felt so owned and marked by him. Then he collapsed on me, embraced me, and covered me in kisses.
He said, “Damn, baby, you don’t know what you do to me. Your little outfit got me so hard and frustrated, I just had to have you.”
And I said, “Good, you can always have me, I’m yours.”
We kissed passionately for several long, sensual, beautiful moments. Then I pulled away and said smolderingly, “Remind me to wear that tank top and shorts more often.”
We both belly laughed, and in that moment I was so grateful I waited for him for so many years. I got married later in life, and I never orgasmed before him. Now I lose track of my orgasms. And now I know why: because I was made for this man.
I praised God silently in my heart for this man, who loved me so fiercely and takes care of me so well. The most devoted husband. The most passionate lover. So grateful.
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