If you're under 18, this story is not for you. Don't read it. Skip or erase the file. If you're over 18, you can officially decide for yourself. The following is a work of total fiction and contains scenes of graphic sex. Content is my own (Monocle), copyright 1999, (as are the typos, and spelling & grammar errors), and any resemblance to persons or events living or dead or stories already written is purely coincidence. The reader is free and welcome to copy and circulate these stories within free legal forums, as long as this disclaimer is included and no alterations to it or the content are made. Hope you like it. Monocle
A word about my wife. She's beautiful, smart, sexy, kind, and funny. Her hair is auburn and she's a half head shorter than I am. Her bright hazel eyes are the most expressive I've seen outside the cinema. Don't ask me about her measurements, I don't know and I don't care. I keep them on a piece of paper in my wallet in case I need or want to buy something for her. I can tell you is her breasts are the perfect size - just more than a generous handful each - and that her tight belly and flared hips are absolutely perfectly designed, inside and out, for the making of babies. Certainly they had inspired many, many such attempts over the past few years. She's my wife, in most ways the embodiment of my greatest emotional and physical desires. If you see someone different when read this, so be it.
She wore it to tease me. She told me once she had bought it on a whim in college, worn it to a party or two, but then chickened out and settled on something slightly longer, slightly less daring. She'd worn it for me a handful of times, in private. It was daring. Enough so that some people would use other, less kind, descriptive terms. The black leather came just fractions of an inch below the smiles of her asscheeks - and that was when she stood straight on her smooth, toned legs. The first time I saw it I couldn't imagine that bending over or sitting down would not reveal far more than polite company permitted. The waistline was also quite low, hugging her full hips. It almost looked more like a fat leather belt than a skirt.
Her top didn't help either. The thin white blouse was unbuttoned, with the tails tied in front. This showed three things. First, it bared her midriff and confirmed that her belly was still one of the sexiest sites on planet Earth. Even swollen with growing child, it had sparked no end of lust in me. Six months after the blessed event, only she and I could see any real difference. I found the few lasting changes even more sexy - symbols of our ultimate sexual and creative act - and did my best to show her that. Second, the way the fabric of the blouse was filled showed that our child continued to make my wife's already gorgeous breasts truly breathtaking orbs. Third, said breasts were at the moment unrestrained (and only partially hidden) by anything other than the nearly translucent blouse. Sandals that were basically only thin black straps barely holding wafer-like soles on her feet before twining halfway up her calves completed the ensemble.
Worst of all, we were cleaning house, taking advantage of the baby's downtime to catch up on the basics. Laundry, sweeping, odd jobs. The bundle of joy was down for the count, snoozing for an almost guaranteed two hours one floor and hallway away. I had wondered why she had disappeared into the bedroom after the nap started, but stopped when she came back down, dressed like she was, with the laundry basket. She passed by me as I swept the front hallway, and I couldn't help but reach for her waist. She danced out of my way, my fingers barely grazing her curved side, and disappeared in the direction of the laundry room, leaving behind the barest hint of spicy scent. I cursed inwardly because I had missed her coming down the stairs. I had little doubt that that view would have been heavenly. I finished sweeping with my cock as hard as the broom handle.
The next hour-plus was more of the same. We did chores, sometimes in different parts of the house, sometimes in the same room. I found myself losing concentration more often as time went by. When picking up things to put away, I found myself taking the long way, just to sneak a glimpse of her in another room. On the third such detour I had to stop and stare. She was bent over the dining room table dusting. I was right about the skirt not being able to hide anything that way. Even less is hidden, I discovered, if the wearer forgoes panties. Between her slightly parted legs I could easily see the lightly furred outer lips of her pussy, just visible under the black leather hem. Her rump and thighs jiggled and shook a little as she polished the table surface with sweeps of the dustcloth. I almost dropped the drinking glass I was carrying to the kitchen, but had the small presence of mind to put it on a shelf before making my way over to her. My gaze darted back and forth from the enticing fuzz and flesh peeking from beneath the tiny skirt to her full, taught blouse. But before I finished crossing the living room, she was done. She stood straight and turned to me, hiding her lower charms - barely - behind their leather cover, and innocently displaying her upper charms (and I should mention that her heart shaped face, sparkling eyes, and lush lips are truly captivating, even when the rest of her is in shapeless cotton sweats). She smiled, flicked the dustcloth at me, and giggled as she disappeared through the kitchen to the basement in a flash of curls. I was left in mid stride, hand half extended towards now-empty space, painter's pants tented and straining.
A few minuets later, I was sorting kitchen items in a low cabinet when something pinched my left buttock - hard. I flinched and hit my head on the cabinet top. As I pulled out cursing and rubbing my head she warned me to be quiet or I'd wake the baby, then walked slowly away, hips moving in ways evolved to guarantee continuation of the human species.
I stumbled back to work, my equilibrium seriously disturbed. I welcomed the buzz of the dryer and almost ran to gather the clothes and set out on the usually mind-numbing task of sorting socks and t-shirts in the den. No relief there, I discovered. My cock throbbed anew every time I uncovered a pair of her panties from the pile. The whites have some of her sheerest and laciest things... Somehow, I continued to fold.
Then she walked in, sat down on the loveseat across from the couch, and joined in with the laundry. Of course, I stopped in mid fold as she sat, because her skirt could not help but ride up as she settled. And with that scrap of clothing, it didn't take much movement to reveal wonders. My hungry eyes devoured her creamy thighs, catching hints of other delights in the shadowed depths between. I just couldn't move my eyes away. A moment later my view was blocked, and I became momentarily annoyed at the obstruction, until I realized that it was her thinly covered bosoms. She had leaned forward to pick up a group of socks to sort. She caught my eyes as she leaned back to work. She was poker faced, but I have no doubt that my expression could have been read across state lines.
A sock fell from the bunch, landing at her feet. With nonchalance, she set the pile next to her and leaned forward to pick it up. Though she didn't have to, she parted her legs a little to reach between them for the errant clothing. Instantly, I could see everything. Her puffy vulva were full, the soft nether lips parted ever so slightly. Never had I seen anything more luscious and inviting. She leaned back again, having retrieved the sock, and started sorting. She did not close her legs. My gaze traveled up to her face, now turned to the task at hand, then moved to her slowly rising and falling chest - where her nipples clearly pressed into the thin fabric - down her belly, and finally back to her not-so-hidden most private area. There, the faint glisten of moisture along her silky slit finally pushed me over the edge.
With a low growl I stood up and stepped over the table, crossing to her in a second, stepping one leg between hers as she innocently looked up at me with feigned surprise. I bent over and reached out, touching her in three places simultaneously. My mouth found hers and pressed a fierce kiss. My left hand covered her right breast, rubbing and squeezing the full flesh through the sheer fabric. My right hand slid smoothly between her thighs to cup her pussy, middle finger pushing between the wet folds and curling into her.
She gasped, eyes gazing into mine before closing as our tongues began to dance. My eyes closed as well as I felt her hands trail up my legs to my waist, find my belt and unbuckle it. My hands remained busy, one massaging a breast, the other now rubbing up and down her slit. She moaned softly into my kiss, opened my pants, hooked the waist with her fingers and pulled my pants and briefs to my knees. My now aching cock sprung out straight and I groaned, happy to be freed from the increasingly uncomfortable confines. Just how big I am is another thing I won't tell you. All I care about is that she seems to like its dimensions.
She broke our kiss. I could see she was flushed and breathing harder as she pushed my hand away from her breast so that she could lean forward towards me, her soft hair running down my chest and stomach as I still stood bent over her. My right hand stayed firmly between her legs, which now opened slowly, enticingly. My index finger pressed slowly in and out of her snug entrance, and my thumb ran up and down her furrow to graze her emerging clit.
Next was my turn to gasp as I felt her hot mouth envelope my cock, followed by delicate fingers both wrapping around the base and cupping my balls. I stopped all movement for a moment to relish the sensation of her hands and mouth on me as her lips and tongue slid across my sensitive shaft. Her head bobbed once, twice, and thrice and I was in heaven, finally remembering to reciprocate with my right hand. My left hand now traced its way around her back and up towards her head. I planned on entangling my fingers in her hair, to make sure she kept on doing what she was doing right now. But she had other plans.
She pushed forward, swallowing more of my cock, nudging her head into my stomach. Not paying attention, I leaned back, losing my balance. My pants and the table edge prevented me from stepping back far enough and I fell backward to land sitting down hard on the laundry-covered coffee table. My hands slipped from her neck and pussy, flailing for balance. My cock popped out of her mouth audibly, and now gleamed wetly in the open air. Thankfully, that table had stood up to worse already, so the only damage done was to my fulfillment. She seized the opportunity to jump up and start running out of the room, giggling again.
I stood as quickly as I could, yanked my pants up high enough that I wouldn't trip over them, and took off after her, my erection preceding me. She led me around the bottom floor of the house on a merry chase, thought he dining room and kitchen to the front hall back around again. In the back of my mind I realized that anyone who happened to be passing our front windows on the street would be able to see quite the sight - a rampant man tearing through the house after a scantily clad minx. We were making little noise, but enough to worry me about waking the baby. And at the moment, I wanted nothing to interrupt what I had planned for her.
I caught her in the front hallway at the foot of the stairs. She was trying to cheat, in my book anyway. Heading upstairs would make it even harder to be quiet enough. But I was lucky. Her sandals had little grip on the tile floor in front of the stairs and she slipped and skidded a bit as she turned left to reach them. Her right leg slid out a bit and she had to catch herself on the banister with her right hand and the third step with her left. This left her, for just a second bent over and open legged. I was just behind her, and the delay gave me just the moment I needed. I barely had time to appreciate the pose, right leg straight and angled to the side, left leg bent, waist bent and revealing all her sweetness under the tiny skirt. Then I was upon her.
My hands grabbed her hips just where they flared from her waist as I came up behind her. Blindly, working on instinct and experience alone, I pulled back on her and jabbed forward with my hips. My aim was true. I connected, the head of my cock dividing her outer lips and plunging in, sinking to the hilt into her resisting passage. Her leather covered ass slapped into my abdomen as we converged.
She cried out in surprise and we both froze at the noise. We paused for almost half a minute like that, listening anxiously for noises from upstairs. My cock throbbed inside her and I marveled at how tight she still was, or rather was once again. I noticed little difference from before the child. If anything things were better, as she had learned quite a bit about internal muscle control during her pregnancy and post-partum. As the silent seconds ticked by, she started flexing inside, squeezing one part of my cock, then another, almost like she was milking it with her pussy.
In the end I stopped listening for noises. I pulled out of her almost all the way and shoved home again. This time she grunted, but much more quietly. I loved the feel of her hips in my hands, loved the power of pushing her off and pulling her onto my cock. I did it a few more times, reveling in the hot intimate embrace. Buried in her once again I slid my hands to her blouse and untied the knot. The blouse fell open and I reach up with both hands to cup her full breasts. Now I pulled out of her gently, and pulled her back onto me with a gentle tug on her orbs. I found her nipples between pairs of fingers and pinched them gently as I guided her this new way.
Now I was hunched over her, my head on her left shoulder, almost breathing into her ear. Her legs were now equilibrated, planted more than shoulder width apart and bent at the knees. Both her hands were now on the step as she arched her back and raised her ass to allow me to push deeper into her. Her body shuddered against and around me as I pressed into her and gently kneaded her tits. I felt a trickle of wetness on my fingers as they squeezed out a little bit of her milk. I pumped slowly in and out of her steamy slit, bringing my left hand to my mouth to taste her milk, then sliding it around her hip, under the taught hem of her miniskirt to tease her clit with my fingertips. I whispered to her that this is what happens to little teases like her. She moaned quietly in reply and humped back at me, widening her legs so I could reach her delicacies more easily.
I wanted her to climax first, wanted her to be undistracted, or at least little so, when she felt me cum inside her. I held back and stopped moving my hips, concentrating on her breast and clit with my hands, nibbling on her neck and earlobe, whispering to her the obscene things she made me want to do to her. She tried to fuck herself on my prick, but I wouldn't let her, keeping pressed hard against her ass, rooted in her as she swayed back and forth and side to side. I felt her catch her breath and tense up for her orgasm, and she turned towards me so we could kiss and smother the noises of her ecstasy between us. Her body quaked and shivered. I could feel her stomach muscles contract on the outside and her pussy contract on the inside, squeezing my cock wonderfully. I would not last much longer.
As her tremors subsided, I broke the kiss and slid my hands back to her hips, readying her for a serious fucking. As soon as I heard that little satisfied sigh that always signaled her final afterglow, I pulled mostly out of her and slammed back in, enjoying her sharp exhalation of breath. I didn't stop there. Now all I cared about was fucking and cumming inside my beautiful tease, filling her with the lust she had fermented in me this afternoon. Every motion was erotic fire - the ripple of her barely covered ass and thighs as I slammed into her, the sway of her now dripping breasts as I rocked her, and the tumble of her hair down her shoulders and back.
But she was not out of tricks even then. I was close and getting closer with each thrust. Her lewdly spread legs and arched back filled my eyes as my cock filled her sweet pussy. I stared down at her, powerful, feeling like I was taking her. She tossed her hair, clearing it from her eyes so she could look at me. My expression must have been comically fierce. She stared back a moment, then winked at me and giggled. The next thing I knew I was staggering backward, tripped up again in the pants that had fallen around my ankles. She had simply humped back at me extra hard, pushing back with her arms and legs as well, which sent me back and off balance. My cock slid out of her inferno, seconds away from release. Still giggling, she darted away from the stairs to the living room.
I saw red. I angrily struggled out of my pants and shoes, stubbing toes and straining to do it quickly, and lunged up in pursuit. I would show her. Charging after her, I was totally locked on her quivering buns, now mostly exposed since the skirt had ridden up so high. At least I had taken something out of her by now - she staggered a bit too. I caught up with her at the couch. She would have to run around it or jump over it to get away, but I made it to her before she could move either way. Playing her game, I gave her a gentle push forward, just enough so that her momentum bumped her thighs into the back of the couch. She reduced the impact by bracing with her hands, but before she could turn or push off, I was already bent down grabbing an ankle in each hand. I pulled quickly back and up, and she pitched forward, waist balanced on the back cushions. She caught herself with her hands on the seat and quickly turned to look back at me in mock alarm.
By brute force, I began to pry her resisting legs open. She fought back, bending and straightening and kicking her legs, trying to lock them closed or make me lose my grip. I'm no strongman, but I was fairly possessed by this point. Inch by inch I pulled her legs apart, exposing her to me. It was a serious effort, and I was getting tired of the game. The next time her knees bent, I moved forward with them, bending over her and dropping my head down to her ass. Her right cheek was now fully uncovered, the skirt almost completely hiked to her hips. I sank my teeth into it and bit, none to gently. She shrieked. I didn't care. Her legs loosened, and I yanked them wide apart. I knelt down, releasing her soft flesh from my jaws and trailing my tongue down between her buttocks, over her anus, and around to her gloriously wet slit. She stiffened each time my tongue touched a new pleasure spot.
I pulled my head back long enough to warn her that she'd had this coming all afternoon, and then dove at her. I was voracious. I licked and sucked every square inch of her pussy. Long hard strokes and sort fluttering flicks. I tickled her gently and shoved my tongue up as deep as it would go inside her. I buried my face in her, my nose poking her anus while I mercilessly licked and tormented her clit. She moaned and groaned and made all the noises that turn us both on. I stood, grasping her hips firmly, raising her pussy with me. Her head still hung down onto the couch, and she wisely buried it a decorative pillow to muffle her sounds.
One small anatomical detail I will share with you, with some pride, is that my tongue, while otherwise normal, can extend quite a distance when called for. While I spent many an adolescent Halloween dressed as Gene Simmons, I haven't flaunted it for years - outside the bedroom. My darling wife commented to me about it soon after we had started dating seriously, but I generally played it down. In four years of marriage, I still manage to surprise her when I use it. Now I pulled out all the stops, using every cunnilingual trick I had ever learned, and one or two new ones I had read recently and had not had a chance to try yet. They all worked.