The Loner's Lady

Our meadow, where no one can hear our wild moans.

Christ. This lust never wanes.

Most mornings, I have her mounted before our eyes are fully open, rattling the wooden joints of our four poster bed with such force, it’s a wonder the goddamn thing hasn’t collapsed. She’s a constant temptation. More so now than ever. Watching her nurture our child has amplified my protective nature and she’s never safer than when she is in my arms. So that’s where I keep her.

I tip my head back and grunt up at the moonlight, impatience turning over and over in my gut. When I left the house, she was reading our son a bedtime story and preparing to leave him with the nanny, but it must have been a long one.

I want my wife now.

I need her endlessly.

This nightly torture of waiting is the greatest pleasure/pain imaginable. Doesn’t she know how badly I ache every moment of the day? We now work together running our custom walking stick business. My role is to carve the sticks and Lyssa creates the purchase orders, does the shipping and reaches out to our many vendors. Over the last five years, we’ve managed to donate over a million dollars to wounded veterans, all because of her amazing mind.

However, working together means we’re in close quarters all day and her sexy voice taunts me when she speaks on the phone. Every time she turns to smile at me, my cock thickens in my jeans. Forget about when she bends forward to pull a file out of the cabinet, distracting me with her gorgeous ass. Most of the time I can’t stop myself from sitting her atop my desk, stepping between her thighs and pumping my frustration into her.

Just thinking about how she purrs and opens her legs invitingly has me reaching into my pants and stroking my dick. Lord, when will my obsession with my wife stop growing? I keep thinking I’ve reached the height of it and then I do something like pay an ice cream truck thousands of dollars to take daily trips to our house, just so I can watch her lick a vanilla cone. Or steal her panties right off her body in the middle of a restaurant, so I can take them to the bathroom and jerk off into them. She’s infatuated me, obsessed me, and she owns me for life.

My Lyssa.

And there she is, drifting through the moonlight in a little white nightgown, twirling through a patch of flowers, her hair in loose waves around her shoulders. I want to go to her, to meet her halfway, but her beauty renders my legs incapable of moving. Finally, though, she’s in reaching distance and I waste no time pulling her against me. Hard.

“Wife,” I rasp. “What have I told you about keeping me waiting?”

She toys with a button on my shirt. “That it makes you want to play rough?”

Damn right it does. Being kept from my mate turns me into a beast. “Since you’re half an hour late, should I assume that’s what you want?”

Her bottom lip pops out in sexy pout, her fingertips sliding down my chest to unbuckle my belt. “I want to make you crazy.”

“You’re succeeding.”

My groan carries through the meadow as Lyssa falls to her knees and takes out my cock, looking up at me while she polishes the tip with her tongue. Fuck, I can barely stand it when she goes down on me, the pleasure is so intense. Already my balls threaten release at the depravity of it all. My young wife with her innocent eyes and lily-white nightgown suckling my big, purple-headed cock. In this moonlit setting, I feel like I’m defiling a sweet, trusting fairy, but I’m too horny to be ashamed of myself. I’m always so fucking horny for her, like a fever I never want to cure.

Lyssa moans around my flesh, her lips stretching around the girth as she descends down, down, reaching just past the midway point before she chokes a little. God love her, though, she does it over and over again, deep throating me until my hips start to thrust in unconscious movements, seeking the warm suction her lips are offering.

“Good little girl. Suck me as far down as you can.” I gather her hair in my hands and guide her up and back, growling at the sight of her beautiful bobbing head. “Don’t worry. Whatever your mouth can’t take I’ll stuff into your pussy.”

Lyssa’s fingernails claw into my thighs and that’s the signal that she needs her husband’s cock. Now. Thank God, because her mouth is killing me, tempting my climax with every lick of her tongue and graze of her teeth.

Going down on my knees, I flip Lyssa around and yank her back into my lap, bucking against her smooth ass cheeks.