Pregnant & Lush: Sam

She was in one of her moods so I knew she wouldn’t be done with me after this first round. Her greedy ass when she gets like this won’t be satisfied until she’d fucked my cock raw. I damn near broke my back with the hardest cum of my life yet as her tit milk burst forth on my tongue and her pussy clenched around my dick.

“Oh fuck yes.” My cock beat off inside her with thump after thump until she dropped her legs from around my neck and sprawled beneath me. I nuzzled her cheek until I found her mouth and took her tongue in before pushing it out to feed her mine. “You want to clean up or just keep going?” This question was more important than one might think. If she wants her pussy eaten out again I’ll have to give her a bath, if she just wanted another hard fuck all that entails is me putting her on her knees and doing her doggie style.

She was way ahead of me it seems, since she just simply slid out from between my thighs and got into position. “Do me from behind.” She shook her ass at me while grinning over her shoulder, just egging me on to do nasty things to her sweet body.

I smacked her ass playfully and pushed the dildo the rest of the way in her ass before spreading her cheeks for a better look. I gave the end a little twist and sent it whirling just as I slammed into her cunt. She tore at the sheets and pushed her ass back and high, searching for more dick.

“Nnnnnnngggggggg….” I love when she makes that sound. Any minute now she’ll start drooling and babbling in tongues. What more can a man ask for I ask you? “Ay carajo.” See, she’s not even Spanish, but dick makes her multilingual. “Oh fuck Sam what are you doing to me?” No sense answering, it was a rhetorical question, I’m damn sure she knows exactly what I’m doing to her pussy.

With the dildo on full blast in her ass I let her pussy have it. Now I never need a reason to put the dick on her, but every once in a while she seems to need reminding of her worth, of what she means to me. I guess it’s understandable considering the circumstances of our nuptials. We had what you might call an unorthodox beginning. Then again by today’s standards maybe not.

Nessa is one of those goody two shoes types who was saving herself for marriage. I guess she was able to hold onto her cherry until her twenty-fifth birthday because of the way she hid her attributes. Long sleeves and baggy skirts that slapped around her ankles were not the most appetizing things, not to mention the ugly ass glasses she used to hide behind.

I met her for the first time six and a half months ago when I walked into the bakery where she worked. It was my mother’s birthday and I was looking for a last minute cake because the one my sister had ordered wasn’t up to snuff. I barely paid any mind to the frumpy girl behind the counter as I perused the offerings.

When she spoke it was barely above a whisper and like I said, she was extremely nondescript. I know it’s not politically correct and I’d be hounded out of a women’s rights meeting, but I never give a female a second look unless I find something appealing in her. Let’s just say in her usual get-up there was nothing appealing about my wife at first glance.

The next day when I went in to check on the cake there was no change, not at first anyway. That came when she took her glasses off to answer the phone. I was first captivated and then mesmerized by the clear turquoise color of her eyes, and what they did for her face when not hidden behind those hideous spectacles. “Are you wearing contacts?” She shook her head shyly as she hung up the phone and came back to me, glasses back in place.

“No, I should but I never tried them. I’ve always worn glasses.” She babbled nervously, cute. There was still no overcoming those butt ugly rags she called clothes, but I had to admit the unusual color of her eyes made me want to see more. For some reason I got it into my head that no one with eyes that beautiful could be anything but a ten.

I couldn’t see shit under her clothes, and as I left it was that that gave me the first idea. I knew the catering company my sister had hired for the gala event that was mom’s birthday every year. I knew that they wore a uniform of black skirt and white button down with a little bow tie and flats. It was easy enough to talk my sister into having the cake delivered and having the company stay behind to do the cutting. Added a bit of class to the whole affair, or so I convinced her, as long as she was in similar uniform.