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When Presley and I first fell in love, her foot was injured.
And she wouldn’t stay still long enough for it to heal because she was a very naughty girl.
So, whenever she wouldn’t listen to me, I took matters into my own hands.
Then, after she completely healed, she started asking me to restrain her again. With my hands, with a belt, with handcuffs.
Now, it’s a whole thing.
I can tell she’s getting naughty on purpose when she writhes under me on the bed.
Her essence drips down my chin, coating my face as I work furiously to swallow every drop. I want it all for myself. Even when I’m on the job, I think about getting home to Presley just so I can feel her and be reminded that she’s real. That she’s mine.
I crave her sweetness all the time.
Her tight cunt spasms around my tongue, but I’m not finished.
Her fingers pull my hair as she bucks and writhes, squeezing my head between her soft but strong thighs.
“Are you a naughty girl?”
“Yes!”
That’s when I hold her legs down.
“Are you going to be a good girl?”
She whines, “Maybe?”
With a rough growl, I plunge back in, both her thighs rendered immobile under the strength of my arms.
I suck her clit gently at first, waiting for the second orgasm to roll through her.
She shouts my name as her body shudders.
“That was…that was amazing… let’s do that again,” she rambles dreamily when she can speak again.
But I know better. My wife needs to rest. I cage her against me and kiss her soft mouth thoroughly, sharing her taste with her.
“Soon,” I tell her. “You need to sleep.”
“Poppycock.” She says this with her eyes barely able to stay open.
I chuckle and brush her hair away from her face. Her contented smile squeezes my heart.
“Then how about we cool it so we don’t wake up the rest of the family with your shouting?”
She snorts softly and burrows into my chest hair. Damn, Presley is adorable. “As if they care. They’re all making enough noise on their own.”
I lace my fingers through hers and deal the only hand I have left. “You definitely do not want to startle Shirley and the babies.”
A slow smile spreads across her face. At that exact moment, I feel a gentle nudge. Presley’s eyes fly open.
She moves my hand to the side of her rounded belly. “Feel that? He’s kicking!”
“He’s having soccer practice in there,” I laugh.
“He’s looking forward to meeting his coach,” she slurs, eyes closed.
