Married Sex Is Awesome Sex

Thankfully, she senses the danger in time. The stroking stops, and she gives my balls just a bit of a tug. This time, my groan is frustration. My ass gets a warning tap in retort.

"Hold still for a moment, baby," she says. I feel her reach over me to retrieve the lube, and also one of her favorite toys.

The toy drops to the mattress behind me. The lube cap snaps open.

"Do you have a lot of cum for me tonight, baby?" she asks.

"I think so, honey," I answer, all according to the script. She doesn't want a firm 'yes.'

Technically, my uncertainty is honest. There's really no connection between how pent up I feel and how much cum I'll eventually give her. It's partially her own fault - a phrasing I'll only use after the sex is done, never during - because she knows how to tease me so well. Even when I'm dry as a bone and soft as a noodle, she can make me want her again and again. Well, I should say: she can make me want her even more.

"Well," she says, feigning dissatisfaction, "that just won't do. I need a lot of cum tonight. Let's help you make a lot of cum for me."

I slump my shoulders, signaling complete submission. Her lubed fingers reach my hole. She moves even closer to me, and places her other hand on the small of my back. Once the final bit of lubing and massaging is done, the index finger enters me. My body can't decide between a gasp and a groan. It tries to do both, poorly.

Her hand slides up my back and she leans over me, wielding complete authority. I feel her breasts brush against me. Her finger is probing, pushing, and stretching all at once. It's not long enough on its own to reach the magic spot, but it feels like she's giving it her best effort.

Her hot breath is on my ear. She offers encouragement and reassurance in low tones, but she also demands submission. I'm not sure how much more submissive I can get.

"Just relax, babe," she says. "Don't fight it."

I am in no way fighting it, but hey, they're good lines. I give her a little whimper, and I can feel her mouth spread into a smile.

"Let me in," she continues. "Let me help you make lots of cum for me tonight."

My back is at its limit, as far as arching goes. I spread my knees a little more; that's the only move I have left that signals more submission and agreement. She murmurs approval. I start to sweat.

"Okay baby, here comes the next one," she coos into my ear. "Just breathe. Relax, breathe, submit. Let me help you."

The first finger withdraws momentarily, and then there are two, side by side, pushing into me. Even with all the prep and lube, it's intense.

I can sympathize with people who don't like getting their assholes stretched, but, no matter how convincing my play-acting might be, I don't actually understand it. I love anal attention. I love every part of it: the intimacy, the submission, the raw sensations. I love that my impossibly beautiful wife's long, delicate, dextrous fingers can in fact reach all the way to that magic spot inside of me to do with it as they please.

It's only a few more seconds before they do, again, tonight. I make an animal noise into the pillow as I feel the first electric jolt.

"There it is," she says. "Now we can make plenty of cum."

I just grunt. The sensations on my prostate have captured nearly all of my attention, and I've lost the fine control necessary to communicate anything meaningful at all. She knows, and she loves it.

I feel a sudden fire near my leg, then on it, followed by a hint of wetness. She's pushing her pussy into me, gently dry-humping to enhance her own stimulation.

"That's where I need all that cum tonight, baby," she says. "Deep inside my pussy. I need you to flood it. I want to feel buckets of cum shooting all the way up inside."

Her voice and breath make me shudder. It's another electric shock, and it pairs with the ones she's creating deep inside of me. I swear that I can feel them ping-ponging from brain to prostate and back again. I'm losing my grip. My wife is literally driving me insane. I try so hard not buck into her fingers, to increase the pressure and electricity so I can cum, but I just want it so badly. Cat's weight and leverage wouldn't be enough to stop me. I groan, grunt, scream, and practically cry into the pillow. None of it is from pain. All of it is from need.

I've no sense of time left. I don't know how long she massages my magic spot, or dry-humps my leg, or teases her erect nipples across my back.

Eventually, she whispers again. I can barely hear her at first over my pillow-muffled bleating, but the hot breath in my ear brings me back.

"There, now. Shhhhh, baby. Calm down, now. That's enough. That will be a lot of cum."

She nibbles my ear with just her lips. Then, she slowly slides her fingers out. I miss them immediately.

"Roll over now, baby," she commands.

I've regained enough presence of mind to obey simple commands, and so I do. Once I'm on my back, she gives me another moment to return to reality, or at least get a little bit closer. She squeezes some lube into her clean hand, then passes the bottle off to me. When her other hand stretches out, I remember to grab her a towel. Deft multitasker that she is, she manages a sexy thing - showing off how she's lubing up her pussy - and an unsexy thing - drying off the hand that was just deep inside my ass - all at once.

"Get it hard and wet, baby," she orders.

When I'm in the dominant position, I sometimes like a bit of sass from my wife. It helps justify the spankings. She, however, does not like sass. I don't get cute. I don't ask her to clarify what, exactly, she wants me to get hard and wet. I open the lube and coat my cock, then tease and stroke it back to full hardness. It doesn't take long at all. The show Cat's putting on in front of me is profoundly helpful.

She retrieves the toy from the mattress; it's a jelly ring with an extra little appendage, and there's a battery-powered motor inside. She takes a mix of lube and her own juices directly from her pussy and coats the toy completely. Then she shuffles over on her knees to my waiting cock, and half-slides, half-rolls the toy down to the base.

We make eye contact. It's pure want. I sense my moment, and grab my wife's fiery red hair. I pull her in for a ferocious kiss, and then use all my strength to lift her, turn her, and then toss her on her back. I grab a pillow, and her ass is already raised and waiting for it to slide underneath. I manhandle her long, smooth, finely-toned legs to get into position between them.

She's breathing heavily, now, practically heaving. She wasn't pretending; she desperately wants my cock inside of her pussy. I stare her down, demanding she reveal the full extent of her desire. She does. The roles have reversed completely. She doesn't say any words, but it's written all over her face: she's begging for it.

I can feel the predator's gaze upon my own face, and I see her eyes widen in response to it. She's not afraid, of course, but it's one of those feelings just near enough. Reality can be just as sexy as acting and pretending sometimes. Reality is: I have three inches of height and over thirty pounds on my wife. Thanks to my insecurity-fueled exercise regimen, a lot of that weight difference is muscle.

I press the button on the toy and enjoy the vibrations for a moment. I don't even bother grabbing my cock. It's so hard, and I know this position so well, that I know I can thrust into her on the very first try.

I descend upon her like she's prey, and once again claim her fiery pussy as mine. She gasps and cries out. It's the furthest thing from acting or pretending. It's the one sound that I know, with all of my heart and soul, is completely involuntary and honest, every single time.

She loves being penetrated this way. She's only been able to describe it to me as feeling 'right.'

I accepted that simple description readily, because being inside of her feels just as right to me.

Within three thrusts, I've found the exact position to push the toy's stubby appendage onto her clit - or, rather, near enough to it so that it's on the razor's edge between pleasurable and overwhelming. The fucking starts with long thrusts, so the stimulation there is off-and-on. Later, when I get close, it'll be on her constantly. That's why it's such an ingenious little device: as the man gets closer to his orgasm, the woman gets more and steadier stimulation for her clit.

I paw at my wife like a starving animal that can't decide which piece of flesh is the most delicious. My mouth and hands are everywhere. We're kissing, then biting, then panting, then all over again in different places. My hands start at her thighs, then go to her hips, then her breasts. Hers wrap around me, and she does the same with her legs. She grasps at my back, scratching it lightly. Her knees and calves push my body even closer to hers, doing their best to make every one of my thrusts harder and deeper.

We exhale words to each other for a while, but soon we cannot manage it. Whatever noises our throats and lungs can make on their own, that's the only accompaniment to the mattress shifting and the sweaty skin slapping.

I feel pure instinct take over. I no longer think. I feel a need and then act to meet it. My hands need to be interlocked with hers, so I grab at her wrists and push her arms down, then clasp our fingers together in a dual iron grip. I use that leverage to move all four entangled hands above her head, and then I push down hard while my back arches and my thrusting turns to rutting. The toy's appendage no longer leaves her skin, just as my cock barely leaves her pussy. I stare down at my wife, wild-eyed, but her own twin emeralds are rolled up into fluttering eyelids. Her mouth forms an 'o,' and I feel a sudden tightness all around my cock.

My instincts demand I change positions yet again. I release Cat's hands and put the full weight of my body upon hers. I slide my arms underneath her and then grab at her shoulders for leverage. My head sinks down next to hers, fully into the pillow. I see nothing but white fabric, so I close my eyes and focus completely on driving as deeply and forcefully into my wife as I possibly can. My cock pushes through her powerful, fluttering muscles, over and over again, until finally her orgasm subsides.

In my ear, I feel her hot, panting breath.

"Breed me," she begs,

and I fucking explode.

I don't merely orgasm. I become orgasm. For a few moments, I am, simply, not.

When I am again, I am one thing and one thing only: in love with my beautiful wife.