Breeding the Little Wife

A dream I had, written for my love.

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The moon was high in the sky, an opal in a sea of obsidian. She stood on the balcony, the cool breeze blowing through her auburn black hair. She held her hat in place, afraid it would blow, as the night air rushed past and kissed her soft tan skin. She had just enjoyed the bohemian style wedding she always wanted, surrounded by friends and family in the desert she cherished and loved. She never thought she would be here, never thought she'd experience this, but here she was now, on this balcony, white dress blowing gently in the cool crisp air.

The joshua trees were awash in pale moon light, their arms outstretched to the sky, like the prophet they were named after. She loved this desert, she loved the rolling sands and smooth boulders. She loved the multi colored sunsets and the feel of granite beneath her finger tips. She loved climbing the cliffs and exploring the crags. This was her home for a few years now, she had moved here after heart break, seeking solace and a place to heal. She found peace, joy and love here.... a sense of home. A home that was complete with him.

She brought him here, her beloved, a few years ago... somewhat on a whim, she wasn't even sure why. She liked him, he was kind and gentle, a sweet empathic and loving soul. She didn't think they'd make it this far, she wasn't sure she was ready, but they did and she was forever thankful for it.

She heard him before she saw him. The gentle foot steps behind her. "Husband," she thought, she turned the word around in her head a few times. "Husband," she thought again, tasting it in her mind, savoring the warm and intense feeling that bubbled up within her. "Husband," she whispered just faintly, only loud enough she thought, that she alone could hear it. The word rolled off her tongue and she sighed.

"Little wife," he responded, his voice deep and warm, like honey slowly dripping off its comb.

A smile crept up the side of her cheek as his hand found its way to her waist, his grip was strong yet gentle. She turned to face him, her hat falling off as she buried her face into his broad chest. He smelled sweet and delicious, he smelt comforting, he smelt safe, he smelt like home. She looked up at him, brown eyes watery with emotion. He looked down at her with loving eyes, eyes she could get lost in, eyes she had gotten lost in from day one. So comforting was his gaze, unjudging, caring, full of unspent love. They stayed like that for a long while, eyes locked, his hands on her waist.

Eventually, one hand reached up to wipe away her tears before tucking a stray brown hair behind her ears. He smiled, his dark brown eyes watery like hers, yet beneath the happy tears was a hunger she knew all too well. He cupped her cheek and pulled her closer, his warm breath on her flush red lips. They kissed, soft and gentle at first, his tongue explored her mouth, tasting her. He pulled her even closer, his kiss becoming more aggressive, more needy. She moaned as her breath and heart rate began to climb. She could feel his need, she could taste his lust. She knew what he wanted, or at least she thought she did.

His manhood was pressed against her, hard and throbbing. It had been days since they had last been intimate, partly because of the hectiness of the wedding, and the influx of family, and friends. But also because they both enjoyed the constant build up, the edging, the teasing, the flirting. She wanted him so badly it hurt, and she knew he felt the same.

When the kiss finally broke, she stared up at him, eyes full of need and desire. He laughed, knowing exactly what she wanted, little did she know what he had in store for her. She opened her mouth to speak and he put his finger on her lips

"Shh, little wife," he cooed. "Close your eyes."

She gave him a funny look at first and then obliged. She stood there, eyes closed, waiting... She heard his footsteps as he walked away, she heard him shuffle through a bag. A bag she wasn't allowed to open. A surprise he had told her, what surprise she did not know.

She heard him come back and stop infront of her. He stood there silently for a moment before he placed a blind fold over her eyes. She smiled, she liked these little games. He moved his lips to her ear and nipped playfully, his warm breath gave her chills. He twisted around her to the side and then behind, his tongue trailing her skin from ear to neck. She moaned in delight before she felt it, he grabbed her wrists forcefully, pulling them behind her back.

The sudden force caused her back to arch slightly as he held her wrists tightly together. He started tying her hands, teasing her skin with the coarse fibers as he deftly and swiftly tied her wrists together, palm to palm. She stood there, blind folded in her white wedding dress, hands pulled and bound behind her back. He swiftly interlaced the knots, locking her arms in place. The rope then caressed her chest as he wrapped it around her, tightening it beneath her breasts, the pressure she always found to be oddly soothing.

When he was done he pulled on the remainder of the rope - a leash created by the excess. She stumbled back and like she always did, she wiggled and tested the knots, to see if this time she could get free. But like the many times before she found herself unable to break out, even though she felt she could. She heard him click his tongue before he came around to the front of her, his hand lifting her chin up toward him.

"Be a good girl," he chuckled before pulling on her makeshift leash.

She stumbled backwards toward the bed, or at least that's what she assumed. He stopped and she heard him tie the rope around the bed post. Then he walked away, no other words, just silence. She stood there for a moment, wiggling her wrists. Still no freedom. She pulled against the leash but it was tethered to their large canopy bed. No freedom. She opened her mouth to speak but immediately closed it. She would wait. She would be a good girl.

He came back eventually, dragging another rope on the floor. On purpose she knew, he wanted her to hear it. She felt his presence loom over her, and then she heard a slight jingle, perhaps it was a bell? She felt the leather on her neck next, as he wrapped a collar around her. He tightened it snuggly before jingling the bell with his finger.

"Good girl," he cooed and her insides swelled with pride and love and security. She liked being a good girl. She heard the leash click and she felt the pressure as he tested it, pulling on her leashed collar, forcing her to move side to side. He chucked and she smiled, she loved his laugh, she loved his deep baritone voice. He untethered her arms from the bed, but her wrists remained bound. With the leash he guided her to the front of the bed, or at least another side of it, she wasn't sure. He pushed her to her knees and she sat there obediently, full of desire and need.

She could feel her core temperature rising, her breathing elevating. A warm pool started to gather in her panties in anticipation of what would happen next. She knelt on the floor, little toes curling beneath her with excitement. Her arms and hands bound snuggly behind her back. She could feel him infront of her, he was so warm, he radiated heat in the cool night air. She heard the shuffle of clothes, the unzipping of his pants. She heard the fabric drop and smelt the musky fragrance that was his unique scent. She felt the heat of his dick infront of her, hard and ready she knew. He stepped forward and rubbed the head against her nose and face, in return she nuzzled his dick.

"Suck it," he commanded and she opened her mouth, letting him push his warm and pulsing manhood into her.

She traced her tongue around his head before bobbing in and out, trying her best in her bound position to please him. He moaned and that encouraged her. The sound of him moaning always brought her pleasure. With a pop his dick was out of her mouth and she hungrily sought it out, taking her tongue and dragging it along the underside of his shaft, causing him to shutter. She knew he loved that. She licked him from his heavy balls to his swollen head, stopping at the tip of penis to collect the precum that was flowing out of him in a steady slow drip.

"That's a good girl," he said in a breathy tone, and she smiled, internally proud.

She was full of desire and she knew good girls were taken care of. And right now, she so needed to be taken care of... Her panties were wet, slick with her arousal. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and her heart thumped loudly in her chest. He reached up and picked her up suddenly, she yelped a little in surprise.

He was so strong, his arms large and toned from years of working out. His shoulders were broad and muscular, enhancing his already, in her mind, majestic frame. He placed her on the bed and pushed her back, until she laid there, hair splayed out on the bed, her wedding dress disheveled. The ropes dug into her chest and arms, leaving little red marks in their wake on every piece of exposed skin.

He pushed her legs apart aggressively, with a need she knew all too well. He moved her thin white dress to the side, exposing her soft and wet panties. Her pussy throbbed with need, moisture pooling out of her uncontrollably. She couldn't see it, but she could feel his smile as he stared down at her. He liked what he saw and she knew that. She felt his warm fingers on her panties, pressing against the fabric, feeling the wetness seeping from her core.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?," he inquired. She moaned in response as he teased her through the fabric. "Is the little wife in heat?," he chucked and she loved the way he called her little wife.

She was in a sense in "heat", she was ovulating she knew that much. Funny timing she had thought earlier that day when she felt the pain on her left side. She had dipped her fingers into her wet core in the morning and pulled out long strains of moisture. Egg white consistency, long and stretchy, perfect for becoming pregnant.

Not that she wanted that now, it wasn't the right time yet. She wasn't ready. She had so much to do and accomplish before then. Everyone said she was ready, but she didn't feel she was. She was in her mid 30s, surely she could wait until her late 30s, maybe early 40s... she would be ready then. But not now. She knew he liked it though, every ovulation cycle. She had been off for over a year and every month she knew he looked forward to this time. He said it felt better, perhaps that was nature's intent. She couldn't argue it felt better for her too.

Her thoughts were interrupted by his fingers pulling down her panties. He deftly released them her legs, she had no shoes, so it was all that much easier.

He inquired again, impatient almost, "Is my little wife in heat?"

She knew she had to respond, so she shakily did. "Yes," she said softly, a quiver in her voice.

"Perfect," he said, a certain joy in his voice.

She had to agree it was kind of perfect timing, right on their wedding night. She couldn't complain. This would feel so good.

Again he chased away her thoughts with his warm fingers. She felt them caress her nether lips, brushing over her clit before tracing down to her sopping wet core. He dipped a finger in, and she moaned, then he dipped a second finger in and she gasped. He pulled them out and then in, a few times, in a rhythm. His other hand worked little circles on her clit. Oh it felt so good, her heart raced, her breathing escalated. She got wetter somehow, she didn't know how, she didn't care. He pummeled her with his fingers, curling them up just a bit to hit her special spot.

His other hand continued to work, gently caressing her little hooded button. Her back arched and her toes curled and she moaned and gasped, the tingly feeling rose from her pussy to her stomach to her chest to her face and she basked in the glory of it all. Just a little more she thought... just a little more... and then he stopped and pulled away.

Her back fell into the sheets, she groaned and made a pouty face. He laughed and she stuck her tongue out playfully. She knew his games. He was such a tease. But it had been days. Couldn't he spare her just one quick orgasm? She was his wife now, it was his responsibility to please her, she thought to herself. Her chest rising and falling with exasperation. He, on the other hand was silent. She felt him standing there, admiring his handy work, perhaps? His bound wife on the bed, horny for him and only him, her arousal leaking onto their crisp bed sheets.

She heard him take off the remainder of his clothes, his pants were already gone, and now his shirt and under shirt were probably gone too. She imagined his chiseled tan chest, his muscular pecs, and his slim waist. She imagined his long black hair falling to the side, she imagined the way his wavy hair would sit on his fine chest. Oh how she loved his hair, long and thick, black and wavy, it complemented his bronze skin so well. She would imagine their future children with his long black hair and almond shaped eyes. This made her smile.

Again her thoughts were chased away by the sudden shift in weight. The bed creaked as he climbed onto it, she felt the mattress dip. She felt his warm body coming over her, his dick dragging from the bed sheets to her pussy, sliding easily between her slick lips.

"Condom," she whispered in a hitched breath.

"Mmhm," he responded, adding nothing more.

She knew he would be good about this, he always was. He was so diligent about pulling out, so diligent about wearing condoms during her most fertile periods. He knew she wasn't ready and never pushed the matter. She felt him shift his weight as he reached toward the night stand, presumably for a condom. Instead she heard metal drag. Metal? She thought that was odd. It sounded heavy and sharp. Definitely not a condom.

He loomed over her and she laid there, unsure what his plans were. But there was no fear, she never feared him, he always cared for her. Cared for her more than anyone else ever did. She felt the cold metal at her chest and heard the fabric cut. He was cutting her dress open, she groaned. Why? She liked this dress, it was simple and cute and lacey. Very bohemian, very her.

She opened her mouth to protest but he put a finger over her lips. "Shh," he cooed.

She groaned and bit the bottom of her lip as he deftly cut under the ropes, effectively slicing her dress in half from her chest to her waist. He pulled the pieces apart, revealing her slim tan body. Her stomach was flat and mostly taunt, her breasts were small and perky, she thought they looked quite nice in the bra she chose this morning. She was athletic, muscular but not overly so. Years of climbing and hiking, years of gym work.

She was pretty happy with her body, perhaps that was another reason she wasn't ready. She wasn't ready to give up what she felt she had earned over the years. Pregnancy was rough on the body she knew from friends and family. Perhaps she would never be ready for it. She certainly wasn't now.

Her mind centered back in on the moment as his hands gently caressed her stomach. What he was thinking she wasn't entirely sure, but she wasn't sure she liked it. He didn't usually touch her like this. After a while, he traced his fingers from her stomach to her breasts, grabbing one breast in his hand and squeezing it roughly.

"I can't wait until these grow," he said confidently.

She sighed and rolled her eyes beneath her blind fold. "Sure," she said, somewhat exasperated by the teasing, somewhat annoyed by her dress being destroyed.

He tugged at her bra and then she felt the cold metal at the center of chest. He snipped it and she groaned. Well, there goes that bra. She liked that one too.

"You won't need this soon..." He paused, "It's too small."

She sighed, "What are you getting at?" She asked, somewhat annoyed. Her fingers were going numb behind her back.

"You know what," he said and she furrowed her brows.

No she didn't. Or did she? He never hinted at wanting kids now, definitely not now. He had said in the future, the future was in years. Years was not now. She shifted a bit in discomfort, discomfort that was soon replaced with pleasure as he she felt his warm mouth on her nipple. She shuttered at the sensation, forgetting her numb fingers and bound arms as a lighting bolt of pleasure struck from her nipple to her pussy. Her nipple hardened in-between his teeth as he aggressively nipped and pulled. She squirmed and squealed in pleasure. Her back arching yet again, her toes curling, her pussy leaked and pulsed. It ached so bad. She just wanted him to fill her. No needed him. She needed to feel his warm cock buried deep inside her. Oh she needed it so badly.

He stopped biting and sucking one nipple only to shift to the next, starting the pleasure cycle all over again. She squirmed in delight as he flicked her hard nipple with his tongue. He eventually pulled back and gripped one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it slightly.

"So large," he said, and she wasn't going to deny it, he had a way with her nipples. He always made them painfully hard. He pulled at her nipple and she gasped. "You'll let me suck these when you have milk," he said, more like he commanded.

She sighed and moaned, it felt so good. But no not now, no milky nipples now. "Not now, not ready," she said beneath a hitched breath.

"Yes now," he said, pressing his weight onto her and sliding his manhood up and down her slick pussy lips. She imagined his precum mingling with her wetness and she shuttered at both the thought and sensation. Oh it felt so good, why did it have to feel so good.

"You're my wife," he said in a husky breath as he rubbed his dick up and down her slick lips. "And good wives..." he paused, groaning somewhat as his dick twitched. She felt it, and moaned in response. "Give their husbands children." He said in a hoarse breath.

She moaned again, feeling his swollen head at her entrance. Not now she thought, but she wanted it so badly. Her body and her mind fought. Her body didn't care, this is what it wanted, to be filled and bred. Her mind thought of her career, her body, her ambitions and goals. Not that she wasn't accomplished but she could be more accomplished, couldn't she?

"Condom," she said again, her resolve wavering, she could hear it in her voice.

"No," he said and she shuttered. He could take her and she couldn't fight him.

She was bound, hands behind her back, legs splayed open on either side of him. His dick pressed right at the folds of her entrance, leaking a continuous stream of precum. He had the power now, he could knock her up and she was powerless to do anything. She shuttered at the thought, partly aroused, partly mortified. He wouldn't do it, would he. He never had before. What had changed? She was his wife now, sure, but all else remained the same.

"Please," she begged, a last minute ditch effort but in her heart she knew he had his mind set. He was impregnating her and doing it tonight.

"No," he said, and she could feel his smile. His devious plotting smile.

And then she felt it, he thrust suddenly, and in one quick movement his cock was buried deep inside her. She let out a sharp moaned of pleasure, a moan that turned into a series of high pitched whines as he pummeled his dick in and out of her.

She was so slick, so wet, so ready, her juices coated his thick hard cock, making it easy for him to slide in and out of her. With every thrust she felt her core ignite, her small breasts bounced, her hard nipples brushed against his chest as his mouth crashed down onto hers.

His tongue invaded her mouth like his dick invaded her pussy. She was helpless to it, but reciprocated nonetheless. She kissed him deeply and hungrily, thrusting her hips up to meet him in rhythm and timing. She felt his salvia drip down her cheek, she didn't care. She felt his dick twitch, she didn't care. She felt his breath warm and hot on her skin. She felt the sweat bead down his chest as he pounded into her.