In her dream, she lay in bed naked as Michael stood above her. From this vantage point, he looked ten feet tall and his chiseled chest and washboard abs seemed to be carved of wood.

His cock, thick and veiny, hovered just above her pretty mouth and even in her sleep she reached toward it with her hand and flicked her tongue at its imaginary head.

"That's my girl," intoned Michael's deep, resonant voice. "Suck my cock."

There are dreams and there are dreams—those when you have to wake yourself convinced that what's happening to you is real. This was one of those.

So vivid was the feel of his cock in her hand, so real was the salty taste of his member that Ruth awoke. She opened her eyes and, for a moment, felt that sharp ache of disappointment that one always feels when waking from a beautiful dream.

But, of course, this was not a dream after all.

Michael's plane had left on time, arrived on time and he shattered the speed limit between the airport and home to get to his beloved and fiercely horny wife. And now here he was—naked, the tip of his rigid cock between her plump lips, his soothing voice urging her on.

"This what you've been waiting for?"

The reality of it came to her in an instant and she responded with a gasp and a smile. Michael leaned over and kissed her deeply.

"Hi, babe. Missed you."

"Mmmmm," was all she could say in response.

"This is the one. I promise."

Ruth grabbed his cock and pulled it to her wet and waiting mouth, taking nearly the entire shaft in on her first attempt. Michael inhaled deeply and held his breath as her soft, velvety tongue caressed the underside of his dick.

Hungrily lapping at his firmness, she reached behind him and grabbed hold of his ass and starting pull it to her in a steady rhythm. Michael took charge of her initiative and starting thrusting into her mouth, gagging her slightly but not slowing her down.

It lasted like this for a full minute but wanting to hold off as long as possible, Michael pushed her away roughly. Ruth tumbled onto her back and Michael sank to his knees and planted his face between her legs, probing her hairy pussy with his tongue.

"Oh, my God," she intoned. And then quickly, "Oh my God, oh my..."

She gasped and shrieked as Michael sucked on her clit while rubbing the outer lips of her cunt with his thumb.

"Ohhhhh myyyyyy...."

She came almost instantaneously but Michael knew better than to stop. Pulling her hips forcibly toward him, he stood up, pulling her ass off the bed, his face still buried in her burgundy thatch.

With only her upper back and head still resting on the mattress, Ruth twisted her nipple with one hand and with the other pressed Michael's thickly coiffed head into her cunt.

Her sounds continued but there were no more words—just "oooh's" and "aaaahhhhh's" and gasps and moans and shrieks of sheer orgasmic pleasure.

He was tongue fucking her now and she responded by thrusting her hips into his face, the lower half of which was completely soaked in her juices. She came again...and again and on the third time screamed out, "Fuck me! I want you inside me, fucking me! Now!"

Michael dropped her to the bed, spread her legs with his strong arms and rammed his cock into her sopping cunt, his balls slapping against her ass as he pounded away unrestrained. He buried his head in her chest and sucked fiercely on her succulent nipples.

Ruth thought back to earlier in the evening as she admired her naked body in the bathroom mirror. Remembering the beautiful sight of her arched back and her firm, round breasts in profile, she glanced to her right to see the reflection of their lovemaking in the mirror.

Her back was arched in that beautiful and elegant way that she had so admired but the sight of Michael's powerful and muscular body thrusting into hers, his thick cock glistening with her juices sliding in and out of her pussy—it took what was left of her breath away and she came again at the thought of it.

Without warning, Michael pulled out and dropped Ruth to the bed. She was momentarily disoriented until he picked her up off the bed and flipped her over. Realizing what he wanted, Ruth said, "Yes, yes, like that. Fuck me like—"

And before she could finish her thought Michael's mighty cock lunged into Ruth's luscious cunt from behind. Burying her face in a pillow Ruth stuck her ass up in the air so she could meet his violent thrusts. She continued to push back with all her might until Michael shot a stream of his cum deep inside of her, his ragged breathing and guttural moan filling the room as he did so.

Ruth collapsed onto the bed, Michael right behind her. She curled up beside him and spooned with Michael still inside of her. He kept a thrusting motion going ever so slightly and Ruth experienced a few aftershocks of pleasure.

She wanted him to stay inside of her as long as he could and she was pleased to notice that his dick was still relatively hard. Maybe they could even have another calmer and gentler go at it later on.

As she had done over the phone, Ruth listened intently to Michael's breathing and it soothed her. It always did. She could feel his warm, sweet breath on the curve of her neck and she felt as contented and safe as she had ever felt as a child. Here, in the arms of this wonderful, loving man, she knew she was home.

Five minutes passed before either one spoke.

"Well..." said Michael softly, not wanting to break the mood.

"Well..." answered Ruth.

"What do you think?"

She shrugged. "We'll just have to wait and find out," she said in a stoic, philosophical tone. She pulled herself even closer to him before adding, "But that was about as good as it gets."

"Mmmmm," he murmured in agreement.

"I have a good feeling about it."

"Me, too."

She turned her face to his and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Love you, Mikey."

"Love you, Ruthie."

Nine months after Michael's embarrassing incident with the Girl Scouts at the airport, nine months after Ruth sent a bowl of M&M's flying across the room with a telephone, nine months after what had perhaps been the most memorable sexual experience of their lives...


"You're doing great, babe!"

"Almost there!"


"Push once more."

"You can do it, babe, come on!"

"I know I can do it, damnit!!! Stop talking!!!"



Seven hours later Michael and Ruth sat in Ruth's hospital bed together—with a new family member. Christine (for Ruth's mother) Elizabeth (for Michael's). Ruth would later realize that each name contained nine letters.

Not so amazing perhaps until you consider that Christine was nine pounds, nine ounces at birth. Born on the ninth (at 9:39) and conceived on the ninth—nine months ago. Jung had a word for it—synchronicity.

"Somehow I just knew that was the night," said Ruth, recalling Alice's conception on that fateful night. "I think that's why I was so desperate to get you home." Michael kissed her sweetly. "Want to hold her for a while?"

"Thought you'd never ask," he replied.

Ruth gingerly passed Alice off to Michael. They sat quietly for a moment.

"I just can't stop looking at her."

"I know."

"She's perfect. Just like her mom."

Ruth laid her head on Michael's shoulder and stared at their glorious creation.

"Perfect," she echoed.

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