His Prize Pupil

Back when I was fresh from losing my virginity, I had no idea that Gavin was abnormally large until I overheard some fellow students talking about the average penis size of the American male, inspiring me to Google the statistics and find out that Gavin’s nine-inch shaft was even more impressive than I already knew.

When he got home that night, I went exploring and…

Let’s just say I designed my own custom kneepads so I could perform my favorite pastime comfortably—and Gavin isn’t complaining.

Now, I come to my knees and walk to the edge of the bed, shyly tucking my hair behind my ear, slipping into the role that makes my sex soft and slick. “Are you sure I’m supposed to be kissing you there, Daddy?”

“Yes, princess.” He takes my wrist and tugs me closer, love and lust written on his face. “We talked about this, didn’t we? Your mouth gives special kisses. They’re the only thing that make me feel better after a hard day.” He flicks open the button of his pants and lowers his zipper. “Remember how you feel when I tickle your special place?”

Heat licks my inner thighs, my toes curling behind me. “Yes,” I whisper, ducking my head. “I remember.”

“You want me to feel like that, don’t you?”

“Yes.” I cross my arms over my breasts, eyeing his erection dubiously, deciding to make our game even more interesting. “But it’s too messy. I don’t want to be messy.”

Gavin’s jaw flexes with irritation, but there’s appreciation in his eyes for the curveball. “Then maybe it’s time we try something else, princess.”

“Like what?”

He settles a knee on the bed, pulling me up against his chest and stroking my hair. “I’m going to turn you around now. If you don’t want a messy mouth and chin, then I’ll have to put the mess deep inside you where it won’t come out.”

“Where?”

Gavin turns me and he’s starting to breath heavily, his hand pressing down on the center of my back. I make sounds of confused protest as he pulls my thighs open and settles his lap against my backside. His fist drags his hard sex through my soft one, and I whimper, trying to shift away, but he plows deep, grunting into my hair. I claw the comforter and try to pull away, but he jerks me back, careful to avoid my pregnant stomach with his forearm. “Next time you won’t complain about giving me a special kiss, will you?”

“No, Daddy,” I whimper as he starts to pump, deep grinding thrusts that make my breasts shake. “I won’t. I won’t.”

“Try to enjoy it,” he rasps, his thickness parting me, filling me incessantly, his mouth open and panting against my spine, wrongness blending with rightness in our very own recipe.

And oh God, I do enjoy it, I revel in what we’re doing, what we do together every time we have a spare moment. To us, it’s magic. It’s us. “I’m fucking obsessed with you, wife,” he heaves against my ear, his climax turning his body stiff, his shaft jerking inside of me. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I gasp, carried away on a current of pleasure.

THE END