Anything The Heart Wants Pt. 01

Her new husband was a striking 6'-2" with a full head of wavy brown that had a few streaks of pre-mature gray to make him distinguished that complimented the well-trimmed salt and pepper beard. The 42" chest and his tight buns and strong runners legs reflected his daily workout in their home gym, but it was the seven glorious inches with its large head that hung between his legs that she desired now. She snuck a hand down to her smoothly shaved snatch and was already wet in anticipation.

It wasn't just his manhood that had her so aroused. Her husband, Jimmy Bennett, was quite simply the best fuck of her life. It was more than the fact that he filled her up like no man before, he was an artist in bed and played her like a Stradivarius knowing exactly what to caress, pinch, kiss, and lick to bring on the cascade of her orgasm even when grabbing a quickie in the shower or like tonight when they'd have to be careful and quiet in their sleeping bag.

She grabbed his cock and whispered, "It's time to come to bed, sweetie," and he slithered in pressing up against her voluptuous charms.

In between kisses, as his hand found her soft right breast, he murmured, "I'll never get tired of your breasts," and he slid down to kiss and love up her natural D-cups and their small nipples. Not spread and undefined like a lot of large breasted women who have nursed children, but still firm and silver-dollar tight. He licked around the nipple and sucked it into his mouth moving his tongue feeling her it arouse and stand up. Margie's ass started squirming in the sleeping bag.

She giggled as she tenderly stroked his head, "Oh, you're giving me pokies." Jimmy moved to the left nipple and started to give it love, too, as his hand snaked his way down between her tanned thighs, spreading them to tease her inner thigh and delicate lips.

"You're a fucking lake already."

"Shush, they'll hear!"

"Nah, the only thing they might hear is your sopping pussy. God, you're wet," and he dove down inside the sleeping bag and clamped his mouth firmly over her sex.

"Hmmm, mmmmm, arrrr," or something to that effect was being murmured above him.

He pressed his fingertips inside of her steaming folds, starting to slowly finger fuck her as his tongue found her clit. He gently licked his tongue between the clitoral hood and her fattening clit. He moved two fingers as deep into her pussy as he could, searching for her g-spot, and began to nibble, tease and lick her love button, making her squirm even more.

The inside of the sleeping bag had become redolent with the smell of her juices, and he inhaled the intoxicating aroma as he kept eating her while rolling over to straddle her face so his very hard cock could find Margie's waiting mouth.

She reached up and grabbed the pulsing tool into her hand. It was already leaking pre-cum, and she stuck her tongue out to lick the sweet goodness. Margie loved the taste of pre-cum. It was sugary and sweet, like eating dessert before dinner. She stuck her tongue out further and slowly licked around it, then gently put just the head into her mouth and held it there, rolling her tongue around his head again and starting to suck like a vacuum.

"Sweet Jesus," Jimmy gasped. He was fighting the need to shove himself in when she did it, sliding her soft lips all the down his shaft and taking his pulsing cock fully into her mouth until it hit the back of it. She wrapped her hand powerfully around the base of his cock and started to fuck Jimmy's cock with her mouth as her hand milked it, which by now had it so erect and inflated the skin was stretching until it hurt even more, the blood expanded the mushroom tip as she was working her magic.

His hips began to move back and forth as his need to explode grew. His hips began to move faster with his growing excitement. However, he didn't want to cum yet, and yanked his cock out of her demanding mouth, turned around in the tight sleeping bag, and positioned himself in between her wet and inviting legs.

"Oh God, fuck me," Margie moaned and grabbed Jimmy's hips.

However, Jimmy wanted to tease. He placed the large head on her throbbing sex. He knew how that excited her. The head of his cock was larger than most. In porn, they called it "a mushroom head," and it sat on top of a 7" missile he was proud of and knew how to use.

All women loved the feeling when that large head entered and spread them, and of all of them, it got Margie off in a special way. He rubbed the head of his shaft around her swollen lips, soaking the head with her juices, and teased her from clit to opening. A gasp escaped Margie as he pushed his impossibly large head deep into her very wet vagina.

"Oh my God. Fuck me, Jimmy," she whispered, trying to control herself.

He did. Pulling out slowly and then deciding "what the fuck," and started to ram her hard and balls deep, plowing her with his entire shaft as he reached around to grab her glorious ass and pulled her up in rhythm so his steely cock could penetrate even deeper, hitting the front of her cervix. Going for it, he fucked her as hard as he could inside of their down-filled sleeping bag.

It didn't take long until he could feel the contractions deep inside her vagina. They grew stronger until she grabbed his back, pulling Jimmy to her, leaving a few scratches along the way, and climaxed around his now deeply buried penis.

Jimmy's cock was pulsing. The head was so jammed with blood it felt as if the sensitive skin enveloping it was going to burst. His screaming balls only had to be asked once, and he began to pump his thick sperm deep into Margie's cunt, his balls exploding from the release.

Margie could feel it as his hot cum poured deep inside her. She gasped for breath as her 2^nd orgasm reached its climax. Both panting, Jimmy laid down upon his new wife and said, "God, you're a great fuck. Want to get married?"

She socked his ass as hard as she could in the limited space of the sleeping bag and said, "Oh yeah, baby, good thing we are,"

A trickle of sperm escaped from her pussy and slowly dribbled down her inner thigh, a feeling she loved. It meant to Margie that she had been good and fucked. It made her feel "tagged" and that he owned her. It meant to her that it was a true love. A feeling she cherished and made her complete. She smiled to herself, and they kissed for a bit before she reminded them that they had to clean up enough to be ready to spring out of the tent at first light. He volunteered to go outside to face the cold wind first and take the first pee. He looked back at his loving wife first before braving the elements.

"I love you," he said.

Chapter 5

As I entered my 11^th grade year it was college prep and application time. I didn't think I had the marks to make elite schools like the Ivys, but I knew I wanted to spread my wings and get away from home and find myself. I was encouraged by my teachers and my academic explorations that there were several top schools that I had a shot at, and rigorously applied myself to the task.

It had been dad and me most of my life, and now our jumbled together new family. Don't get me wrong, I had grown to love Margie, and she was good to me. She never got nasty and played me off against the girls with dad, and I really loved my new sisters, Andi and Jess. Yeah, Jess was a giant geek caught up in her own world and too cute, perfect, competitive Andi could sometimes be a pain in the ass, but then again, at our age, who wasn't? But I knew I needed to get away from home to begin to discover who I might really be and what my passions and interests were.

Dad, Margie, and most especially Andi were great helps and comforts during the initial process. Candidly, I'm not sure how I would have completed the damn admission essay without Andi's invaluable help. Thanks to her, it turned out to be a winner.

Nowadays, they call it "finding your lane." I had no idea what my lane was, but I knew myself well enough to know that I had to remove myself from my loving dad's deep caring for me and the easy womb of life with our mixed family to learn who I really was.

My dad suddenly dying of a massive heart attack right before Thanksgiving that year, shockingly changed all of that and also sealed the deal that I had to get away.

He had gone into the office for a routine strategy meeting on the coming year and in the elevator going up, he had what the doctors called "a sudden cardiac arrest." Which meant my dad had an abrupt loss of heart function, breathing, and consciousness. He died on the spot. All alone. My dad died all alone with no one by his side. I wasn't there. I wasn't there for him and hold him when he needed me the most, the way he had always been there for me, especially after mom was killed. My heart was broken. I let him down when he needed me the most.

They found him dead on the floor of the elevator. When the door opened on the top floor where the executive suites were situated, and his staff was waiting in the hallway to greet the boss. Instead of a pumped up morning greeting, they were met by a dead man with a blue face.

The call came immediately, and the world stopped as we were hit with everything that occurs with sudden death. The shock, the emotional rollercoaster, the pain and grieving, the real world tasks of funerals and services, and then the hard and sometimes harsh realities of what does life look like going forward.

And what does life look like in a blended family when the glue holding the family together is suddenly gone?

For example, our housing. After Margie and dad got married, they never sold a house, and we never combined into one dwelling. We kept both. Our house and the Tanners' next door.

It worked out well. Margie and dad spent most of their nights at our house. There was a nicer master bedroom, more privacy, and my room was on the other side of the house, but the girls kept their rooms over at the Tanners' house, and many of our day-to-day activities took place over there, like most meals, especially dinner. Margie had instantly become the family cook - and she was a GREAT cook, so much better than dad - with a modern kitchen and a welcoming dining room, and there was that home gym.

Almost immediately after the marriage, the fence was torn down, and we became a two house compound. Unconventional, but it worked for us... At least while dad with alive.

More than once, while sitting on the edge of the pool with our legs dangling in the water, dad had said to me, "Don't worry, Johnny. If anything happens to me, this house is yours. I made sure it is yours to live in as long as you want it. This is your home."

And that was important to me. First losing mom and now dad, I emotionally needed that safe and secure comfort zone that the house provided. It was comforting to me that sometime after dad died, and Margie started to understandably live and sleep in the Tanner house, she shared with me my dad's desires and reassured me of his intentions.

There were nights when I was all alone in that big creepy house, and I'll admit, I hated it. On occasion, with Margie's blessing, the two girls came over, and we "camped" in the living room. They were in their tent, and I was in mine with Brownie. I think Andi and Jess thought it was fun. I found it comforting.

Yet, life goes on. Luckily dad had left sufficient funds that I didn't have to worry about money, and Margie and the girls were also okay. The "Big Envelope" with my acceptance letter into my university of choice happily came in, and my immediate future was set: Four years on the other side of the country in one of the top public universities. You can imagine my excitement, and Margie and the girls took me out to my favorite surf and turf local restaurant in Cape Bonita for a celebration dinner. Margie even let me sneak an underage martini as a celebration drink. My first true public taste of alcohol. It got me a little bit hammered, and a fun time was had by all.

Backing my bags in August to move to school, Margie once again mentioned dad's intention about the house.

"Don't worry, this is your home. It will always be here for you, we are your family now, and we love you, and I promise the girls and I will take good care of you, Brownie, and your dad's house like it was our own.

"But I won't promise to keep your cluttered room the same," teased Andi, and we broke into one of our loving long-term rough-house fights until she said, "I'll miss you," and grasped me in a mighty bear hug.

As I said, "I'll miss you too," the entire family joined in the giant bear hug, and we loved each other up forever until it was time to grab my shit and head out to the airport and my future.

I looked and waved at them as long as TSA allowed and stepped onto the plane, found my seat, and settled in, heading toward the anxiety and excitement of my freshman year all alone at college.

End Part 1