AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I have somewhere I have to be, and she needs sleep.
I mean so do I, but she needs it more.
She’s baking babies.
Guiding my dick past her dripping wet entrance happens on matching, overly pleased groans, “Fuck, baby.”
Harlow hums her continued enjoyment prior to sassily snipping, “That’s the point.”
Boorishly jerking my hips forward naturally occurs giving my wife exactly what she wants.
To be taken rough.
She always wants to be taken rough.
I once offered to make love to her—the slow shit they do in movies—and she chirped me so hard that the session ended with her head banged against the edge of the couch, her panties in her mouth, and her covered in so much cum it looked like she had just finished filming a gang bang.
Turns out not all women want that shit.
And that’s okay with me.
I’d rather deliver the shit my woman wants than ruin a good thing by listening to false outside notions.
The original idea to have her ankles where they are is quickly swapped for a better one. Collecting both in one hand not only reminds her of who’s in command but allows for easier control. I tighten my grip and slam into Harlow harder, refusing to let her already quivering figure move an unapproved inch.
Each pound is slow.
Steady.
Packed with enough power to skate her frame towards the padded headboard.
Her inability to contort away from the increasing rabid ramming causes her slick pussy to scream out in protest and content alike. Every dive to the hilt warrants new waves of wetness to trickle past where we’re connected down the crack of her ass prompting the fingers from my free hand to maneuver themselves around the territory to swipe at it.
Spin it around her back hole.
Slather it on my balls.
Seeing as much as feeling the increase in shakes pushes me to ferally thrust.
Ferally fuck.
Push her legs out of the way for me to spit right on top of her sopping lower lips.
Harlow gasps at the unexpected sensation, yet the small thrumming around my dick delivers more accurate information for me than that sound ever could. I wolfishly grin on a guttural groan, “You’re such a good dirty little slut.” Two fingers from the hand not holding her ankles descend to her clit to spread the dribble around her swollen nub. “You want me to fill you up, baby?” My circular motions accelerate in speed. Pressure. “Keep me with you all day?”
Knowing exactly what the combination of filth mixed with sentimental shit does to my other half has me bracing myself for what I have no doubt we’re on the cusp of. Previously spaced-out constrictions transition into constant clamping summoning my nuts to tighten in anticipation of coating her white. Non-stop tugging her to me simultaneously bounces Harlow’s fuller tits and rounder ass, two features that are increasing in size the same as her stomach. She struggles to anchor herself to the sheets underneath her during the tumultuous thrusting and my determination to make sure she can’t is felt in every ferocious blow. Frantic strokes from both halves of my body sync to the point my fingers and thighs and fucking toes are all cramping from the unending amount of momentum I’m delving out.
Finally, the sweetest, softest sigh slips loose clearing space for the back breaking scream I fucking live to hear.
Create.
“Ohmygod, I’m coming!”
And it’s fucking fantastic.
Sweltering stickiness submerges my shaft and selfishly sucks it in deeper and deeper and deeper, buckling my knees. Cutting off my ability to breathe. Forcing me to fold forward and fight back with blistering bursts of my own.
Hisses through gritted teeth are met by breathless, lewd demands, “Yes, make me your cum slut.” Harlow throws her entire body into the additional bucking. “Make your wife your dirty little cum slut.”
Fuck. Me.
If I could come even more, I fucking would.
Loud, beastlike grunts leak free in tandem with my final jerks forward. Regardless of how tense my muscles are and how horribly my lungs burn and how much fucking sweat I have along my taint, I don’t stop thrusting until my balls are completely empty, and my cock completely stops kicking.
At that point, Harlow melts into the mattress, granting me the gift of a satiated whimper.
There’s not even time to verbally ask how she’s feeling or doing before soft snores are flooding our room once again.
I quietly chortle, give myself a mental fist bump, and grab a towel to clean her up.
Er…mostly.
I meant that shit.
I want me nestled between her legs while she’s at home watching ESPN and I’m out…doing…whatever fucking bonding experience Blanc has conjured up that she wouldn’t tell me about.
You’d think fucking the boss would let you become privy to that shit but nope.
Post gently wiping her down, tucking her back in, and engaging in an extra hot shower to make sure I’m up, I duck out a tad ahead of schedule to grab coffee from Loca Mocha Casabloca.
