She’s naughty. She’s kinky.
She wasn’t meant to be a nun, but sometimes, like right now, I swear she’s a motherfucking saint. And if anyone ever looks twice at her when we’re out, I clean their goddamn clock and ask questions later. Mercy is mine. End of story.
“Please let me have it, Griffin,” she whines again, rubbing her bottom against my lap. “I’m such a grateful girl. Use me.”
I’m groaning as I reach for the lube on our bedside table, my cock already full to bursting. Lasting for hours with Mercy has never been a reality. She turns me on to such an extreme, I’m usually only inside her for fifteen minutes before she wrings my come out with her little sexpot body. And that’s just fine, because by the time that fifteen minutes is up, Mercy is usually a sobbing mess from her multiple orgasms.
Have I mentioned I love my wife?
“I love you,” I tell her now, wrapping her hair around my left fist and pulling her face back for a wet, promissory kiss. “God, I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she says huskily, seriousness dancing in her eyes momentarily. “You could have been hurt.”
“No, Mercy.” I rub my cock against her asshole, up and back, before easing in my thumb inside and watching her perfect mouth fall open. “Nothing keeps me from you. I could never lose a battle with this much on the line.”
“Put it in,” she purrs. “I missed it.”
This is what I’m talking about. She’s a fiend for my cock and I feed it into her now, inch by inch, pressure flooding into my stomach. “Ah, Jesus. I love fucking this sexy, little ass.” I wrap an arm underneath her waist, finding her clit with my fingertips and stroking as I sink in deeper, deeper, listening to her moans gather strength.
She looks back at me over her shoulder, face flushed. “This feels too much like a reward for me,” she whimpers. “You better do it harder.”
My balls wrench up and I barely keep from coming, but I hear her loud and clear. She wants it rough and I give Mercy what she wants. Always.
I also know when she wants it rough, she wants to play.
For a while after leaving the church, Mercy felt shame for betraying her vows.
Not now. We found a way to own the shame. To embrace and enjoy it.
“This dirty, little nun wants it hard?” I tackle her onto the bed, still abusing her swelling clit with my middle finger, thrusting my cock into her snug back entrance and watching her pale cheeks jiggle from the force. “Better come fast or you’re going to be late for prayers,” I say in her ear, and she goes wild, sobbing and pumping her ass back to meet my drives. “I’m going to drip out of you every time you kneel and you’re going to love it, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she wails, clawing at the bedding. “Yes.”
A shudder goes through her, moisture slicking my fingers, and I roar with victory over her finding her pleasure. Then I drop my hands on top of hers, holding tight, and I go for broke, slamming in and out of her sweet, pink asshole until lightning strikes and turns my spine to a livewire. My hips slap against her backside, my seed flying in every direction while I grind out her name, over and over again.
It’s heaven.
It’s life with Mercy.
It’s our life and I’ll treasure the woman I’ve been given every single day.
THE END