9:23 pm blinks on the display of our bedroom clock. A firm shove on the front door squeaks the moisture swollen wood past the door frame. It’s fall again and the weather is wetter now in our climate. In another few seconds, the sounds of your shoes walking across the wood floors, the clink-clink of your keys in the dish on the buffet, and the steady thuds of your footsteps up the stairs will travel to me. You’re home late on Tuesdays. Men’s Bible Study night.
These nights are long ones for me.
Our children are anxious for you to return and it makes them more restless. Feeding them, corralling them into bed, and then cleaning up wipes me out most of these nights, especially while I’m pregnant. But my desire for you isn’t wiped out. Seeing you return home from Bible Study turns me on. I don’t know why churches don’t advertise that as a selling point for men’s Bible studies. I love that you prioritize your relationship with God and take time to study his Word even on nights when you’re beat from a long day at work. It feels like you are stretching a long, thick blanket of spiritual protection over our family, over us. It makes me feel safe. And tonight, it makes me feel as moisture swollen as that front door you pushed open a moment ago. I want to feel you hard, thick, and pushing through me. You’re not expecting me to be waiting for you up stairs. Usually I’m finishing up work or chores or finally taking the time to rest. But at 7 months pregnant, I’m all too aware that the blessing of our next child also brings a time of sleepless nights and weariness that will take a few months to wake up from. Tonight my hormones have the final say.
You would’ve laughed if you could’ve read my thoughts before you came in. I fussed over this wavy hair. Putting it down, pulling it up, trying so hard to tame the “mom” look out of it. I settled on having my hair up in a high, loose chignon and tried to convince myself that my hairstyle won’t make or break my chances of coaxing a hard boner on you. I rummage through a few pajama choices and select a no obligations slip. There is a chance you’re too tired tonight and this dress sets just the right tone of possible intimate expectation. The innocent pale pink fabric stretches just snugly enough in two ribbon-edged triangles over my smooth, milk-laden breasts and darkening nipples. The dress is very form fitting now from this pregnant stomach, and it stops at a length just short enough to give you a flash of more intimate places when I bend over. Waiting on the bed, I let my hands slide over my breasts and cup them. Definitely a handful now. Each hand gives the underlying nipple a simultaneous squeeze with two fingers, and I feel excitement stir as these nips stiffen and a small electric current flashes through my clit.
I quickly drop my hands and say “hi” as casually as possible when you enter the room.
“Hey” answers me as you stroll over and give me a kiss hello, something you’ve done every evening with few exceptions for the past 10 years of marriage. You smell like rain.
“How was your day?” I ask trying not to sound too breathy. Be calm.
“Alright”. You sit on the bed and kick off your shoes. “Gotta shower”.
“Ok. Just…” pause, “make it fast.”
You cock your eyebrow and crease a half smile which relieves me. “Oh really?” I know you’re up for fun now.
“And why’s that?” you tease, hoping to coax me to a blushing answer. I surprise you by giving you one.
“Because I’m wet for you to the point of being slushy”.
Your eyes follow my fingers downward as they round the curve of my stomach and then smooth the soft fabric taut over my pussy. I linger at my vulva and look up at you. You realize you’re staring.
“Well, get a move on then” I say with a smile in my voice. Turning the tables on your teasing gives me a little more courage. If only I could’ve had a drink first. It’s silly how after 10 years, I still have secrets about what I want to do and show to you. You shrug your green jacket to the floor and pull at your belt. No shower tonight. I watch you unbuckle and drop your pants while my fingers continue exploring. Parting my legs farther to give you an unobstructed view takes a Herculean amount of bravery, but I tilt my head back into the mound of pillows and slide my right hand under the triangle fold of fabric until I find a nipple and give it a firm twist. A cloudy white tear drop appears from my nipple and the slickness it creates adds to the pleasure as I swirl it around the tip. That electric sensation lights up between my thighs again.
You slide onto the bed next to me and take hold of my other tit. Your larger hand massages my tit from the underside and squeezes up two more cloudy white beads of milk. The back and forth motion of your thumb over the tip of my nipple makes me sigh and I speed up the circles I’ve been tracing over my clit. The room is suddenly so quiet. Why didn’t I think of music? I slow down for a moment and open my eyes because I’m suddenly embarrassed by the sop, sop, sop sound coming from my now slick, sticky fingers as they switch to a faster back and forth motion on my clit. The left side is always more sensitive for some reason. But your other hand is reaching under your boxers and starting to jerk your hard on, confirming that you like where this is going. I double down my effort on my masturbation display for you. You angle your body over mine and warm up my tongue and lips with yours. I respond by kissing back and rubbing faster. You break the kiss first and let your mouth roam down to my tits.
Say it. Say it. Say it. races through my brain.
Deep sigh. Another deep sigh.
“Milk me” I whisper a little too softly.
“Hmm?” you ask, stopping for a second. No going back now.
“Milk me, taste my milk.” I croon louder.
You push the thin straps of my slip down and massage my tits with both hands from base to nipple, and your mouth suctions up each extracted drop. I moan at the double pleasure of having both breasts fondled at once. I pull my knees up and apart and feel a coolness that comes from the additional exposure. My back arches and I step up the pace of my fingers across my clit still more. There’s no trying to hide the wet, slick sound now or the sweet, tangy scent wafting in the room. I think about your cock hard and veined. I think about licking it from your balls, to the underside of the shaft, up to the tip. I crave your taste and think about you pumping it inside of me. If I had any plans about sitting on top of you, sliding you in and riding this orgasm home, they’re out the window now. My clit is hard, bulging and I can feel my inner pussy getting soaked and swollen. You are sucking at my nipples and freely touching my round stomach. I like that you’re comfortable with that. It gives me the reassurance to fully let go. I cross past the point of no return and let the orgasm building cascade over into deep, gyrating pulsations spreading out from the epicenter of my clit. Ohhhh. More. My vulva is pulsating and I’m rhythmically thrusting my hips into the air, trying to fuck an invisible cock.
“Ohh. I’m cumming! Now!” I moan and writhe.
I’m pretty sure my face looks funny and scrunched while I cum. You are sucking too vigorously to notice. My fingers ease up their pressure so that my body jerks gentler and gentler with each spasm. Beads of sweat break on my nose and I laugh when I realize how far I sank down between the pillows while cumming. I practically have to dig myself out of them.
“How you doing down there?” you ask with a laugh and help me sit up.
“Good. And getting better.” I answer as I look at your hardness and think again about your taste. “Your turn”.
You switch places with me, getting nice and comfortable against the pillows in a semi-reclined position. I sweep up the loose strands of hair that shook free during my pleasure and swallow in anticipation. You’re going to taste so good.
I crawl/waddle up you and kiss your mouth, lingering on your bottom lip. A nibble on your ear lobe comes next. Then I move down your neck and stomach enjoying your scent as I go. Guy Smell is the best way I can describe it. Not strong enough to be musky or thick but undeniably male and you. I like feeling the hair on your stomach against my cheek and I run my fingers down each side of your broad torso taking in the reminder of how different our bodies are, that yours is male and mine is female and we were made excite and delight each other. I follow that hair down until your shaft touches my cheek. You’re tenting your boxers. I pull at the waist band and you lift up your tight, hot ass helping me draw the fabric away. A drop of precum is apparent on the tip of your head and I lightly lick it off. Getting into position over you is trickier with a basketball of a tummy in my way, but I prop myself up with one hand, spread your legs apart farther with the other and then scoop up your balls and gently stroke each one. I like thinking about what’s inside them and where it will go. I swirl my tongue in my mouth gathering extra saliva and part my mouth over your shaft. The warm saliva coats you as I slide my mouth over your head. You’re already so taut and stretching upward. There isn’t a spare space of slack skin on your shaft. My vulva responds with arousal again. My lips seal over your head and my tongue probes under the ridge, tracing from side to cleft in back to other side. I draw more saliva around you and let it drip down your length lubing up right where the friction will build. Relaxing my throat, I take you down deeper making swirling circles with my tongue on the underside of your shaft and you slide in inch by inch. I look up at you. Your eyes are closed. But if they were open, you’d see that I’m looking at you, pleasuring your full hard cock in my mouth and unashamed. This is my pleasure too.
I take you as far as I can. My chin feels the hairs from your ball sack and the tip of your head starts to probe a slicker, deeper part of my throat. More saliva drips. My thumb and pointer finger on my free hand encircle the base of your cock and follow my lips as I slide up and return to your head. Take a breath. A few strokes with my hand up and down your cock coat it completely in wetness. I swirl my mouth down your cock again and add a few side to side twists with my hand. I wonder how that motion feels as it snakes down your shaft. The beginning is always slower for me. I get used to feeling your length and girth fill up my mouth. My throat adjusts to your cock penetrating it. A slicker lubrication is drawn out from the back of my throat. I feel like a slip ‘n slide for your dick. I pump up and down and my hand follows, keeping your shaft gripped before I descend again. I slide you in back and swallow so that my throat tightens on your tip. Up and down, up and down, up and down. My hand is covered in spit. My lips and mouth are drenched. You can hear my breath cut short each time I plunge down on you. Your hips start to trust against my down strokes.
“Hm-mm” I vocalize as best I can. I don’t get much sound out before the head of your cock closes off my airway again.
Your balls become a bell weather for your excitement. They draw up and your hips are rocking harder. I can feel your length swelling more. I move faster up and down. Loose pieces of my hair shake free again and wick up the trails of spit. I squeeze harder on your dick with my hand, looking for signs of pleasure crossing over to pain. None so far. My thighs are burning from supporting the weight of my abdomen and staying poised on you. But I don’t have to wait long. Your hand reaches down and touches my shoulder. Your head is tilted back and mouth agape. You look relaxed and tense at the same time.
“Yes,” escapes your lips, low and hoarse, and your hips more forcefully face fuck me while I sneak one last breath and plunge down on you. You pump, pump, pump into the back of my mouth. A guttural sound, something between an “Ah” and a “Ungh” follows. This is the part where I’m not sure if I should hold still and let your thrusting take over or if I should match you stroke for stroke. I pause and lightly give you a few lip-sealed strokes. Now I can taste you, salty, milky, like mild yogurt. I relish the idea of your sperm squirming in my throat and stomach. I slide up and off the top of your head and take a long swallow. You are still and drained. I’m breathing heavily catching up on some lost breaths. I wipe my mouth with my hand and wipe my stroking hand against that not so innocent pink slip crumpled below my breasts.
You give me a sleepy smile and pull back the covers while I hit the light and crawl into bed next to you. I roll over to my side and position a pillow between my knees, a pregnancy sleeping must. Swallowing the last traces of your taste, I make a few mental notes. Maybe more fingertips against your thighs next time. Though I’m tired, I stay awake for a little while. I see 10:56 pm on the clock. Some nervous thoughts about upcoming labor keep me awake. But eventually, sleep finds me.
These nights are long ones for me.
Our children are anxious for you to return and it makes them more restless. Feeding them, corralling them into bed, and then cleaning up wipes me out most of these nights, especially while I’m pregnant. But my desire for you isn’t wiped out. Seeing you return home from Bible Study turns me on. I don’t know why churches don’t advertise that as a selling point for men’s Bible studies. I love that you prioritize your relationship with God and take time to study his Word even on nights when you’re beat from a long day at work. It feels like you are stretching a long, thick blanket of spiritual protection over our family, over us. It makes me feel safe. And tonight, it makes me feel as moisture swollen as that front door you pushed open a moment ago. I want to feel you hard, thick, and pushing through me. You’re not expecting me to be waiting for you up stairs. Usually I’m finishing up work or chores or finally taking the time to rest. But at 7 months pregnant, I’m all too aware that the blessing of our next child also brings a time of sleepless nights and weariness that will take a few months to wake up from. Tonight my hormones have the final say.
You would’ve laughed if you could’ve read my thoughts before you came in. I fussed over this wavy hair. Putting it down, pulling it up, trying so hard to tame the “mom” look out of it. I settled on having my hair up in a high, loose chignon and tried to convince myself that my hairstyle won’t make or break my chances of coaxing a hard boner on you. I rummage through a few pajama choices and select a no obligations slip. There is a chance you’re too tired tonight and this dress sets just the right tone of possible intimate expectation. The innocent pale pink fabric stretches just snugly enough in two ribbon-edged triangles over my smooth, milk-laden breasts and darkening nipples. The dress is very form fitting now from this pregnant stomach, and it stops at a length just short enough to give you a flash of more intimate places when I bend over. Waiting on the bed, I let my hands slide over my breasts and cup them. Definitely a handful now. Each hand gives the underlying nipple a simultaneous squeeze with two fingers, and I feel excitement stir as these nips stiffen and a small electric current flashes through my clit.
I quickly drop my hands and say “hi” as casually as possible when you enter the room.
“Hey” answers me as you stroll over and give me a kiss hello, something you’ve done every evening with few exceptions for the past 10 years of marriage. You smell like rain.
“How was your day?” I ask trying not to sound too breathy. Be calm.
“Alright”. You sit on the bed and kick off your shoes. “Gotta shower”.
“Ok. Just…” pause, “make it fast.”
You cock your eyebrow and crease a half smile which relieves me. “Oh really?” I know you’re up for fun now.
“And why’s that?” you tease, hoping to coax me to a blushing answer. I surprise you by giving you one.
“Because I’m wet for you to the point of being slushy”.
Your eyes follow my fingers downward as they round the curve of my stomach and then smooth the soft fabric taut over my pussy. I linger at my vulva and look up at you. You realize you’re staring.
“Well, get a move on then” I say with a smile in my voice. Turning the tables on your teasing gives me a little more courage. If only I could’ve had a drink first. It’s silly how after 10 years, I still have secrets about what I want to do and show to you. You shrug your green jacket to the floor and pull at your belt. No shower tonight. I watch you unbuckle and drop your pants while my fingers continue exploring. Parting my legs farther to give you an unobstructed view takes a Herculean amount of bravery, but I tilt my head back into the mound of pillows and slide my right hand under the triangle fold of fabric until I find a nipple and give it a firm twist. A cloudy white tear drop appears from my nipple and the slickness it creates adds to the pleasure as I swirl it around the tip. That electric sensation lights up between my thighs again.
You slide onto the bed next to me and take hold of my other tit. Your larger hand massages my tit from the underside and squeezes up two more cloudy white beads of milk. The back and forth motion of your thumb over the tip of my nipple makes me sigh and I speed up the circles I’ve been tracing over my clit. The room is suddenly so quiet. Why didn’t I think of music? I slow down for a moment and open my eyes because I’m suddenly embarrassed by the sop, sop, sop sound coming from my now slick, sticky fingers as they switch to a faster back and forth motion on my clit. The left side is always more sensitive for some reason. But your other hand is reaching under your boxers and starting to jerk your hard on, confirming that you like where this is going. I double down my effort on my masturbation display for you. You angle your body over mine and warm up my tongue and lips with yours. I respond by kissing back and rubbing faster. You break the kiss first and let your mouth roam down to my tits.
Say it. Say it. Say it. races through my brain.
Deep sigh. Another deep sigh.
“Milk me” I whisper a little too softly.
“Hmm?” you ask, stopping for a second. No going back now.
“Milk me, taste my milk.” I croon louder.
You push the thin straps of my slip down and massage my tits with both hands from base to nipple, and your mouth suctions up each extracted drop. I moan at the double pleasure of having both breasts fondled at once. I pull my knees up and apart and feel a coolness that comes from the additional exposure. My back arches and I step up the pace of my fingers across my clit still more. There’s no trying to hide the wet, slick sound now or the sweet, tangy scent wafting in the room. I think about your cock hard and veined. I think about licking it from your balls, to the underside of the shaft, up to the tip. I crave your taste and think about you pumping it inside of me. If I had any plans about sitting on top of you, sliding you in and riding this orgasm home, they’re out the window now. My clit is hard, bulging and I can feel my inner pussy getting soaked and swollen. You are sucking at my nipples and freely touching my round stomach. I like that you’re comfortable with that. It gives me the reassurance to fully let go. I cross past the point of no return and let the orgasm building cascade over into deep, gyrating pulsations spreading out from the epicenter of my clit. Ohhhh. More. My vulva is pulsating and I’m rhythmically thrusting my hips into the air, trying to fuck an invisible cock.
“Ohh. I’m cumming! Now!” I moan and writhe.
I’m pretty sure my face looks funny and scrunched while I cum. You are sucking too vigorously to notice. My fingers ease up their pressure so that my body jerks gentler and gentler with each spasm. Beads of sweat break on my nose and I laugh when I realize how far I sank down between the pillows while cumming. I practically have to dig myself out of them.
“How you doing down there?” you ask with a laugh and help me sit up.
“Good. And getting better.” I answer as I look at your hardness and think again about your taste. “Your turn”.
You switch places with me, getting nice and comfortable against the pillows in a semi-reclined position. I sweep up the loose strands of hair that shook free during my pleasure and swallow in anticipation. You’re going to taste so good.
I crawl/waddle up you and kiss your mouth, lingering on your bottom lip. A nibble on your ear lobe comes next. Then I move down your neck and stomach enjoying your scent as I go. Guy Smell is the best way I can describe it. Not strong enough to be musky or thick but undeniably male and you. I like feeling the hair on your stomach against my cheek and I run my fingers down each side of your broad torso taking in the reminder of how different our bodies are, that yours is male and mine is female and we were made excite and delight each other. I follow that hair down until your shaft touches my cheek. You’re tenting your boxers. I pull at the waist band and you lift up your tight, hot ass helping me draw the fabric away. A drop of precum is apparent on the tip of your head and I lightly lick it off. Getting into position over you is trickier with a basketball of a tummy in my way, but I prop myself up with one hand, spread your legs apart farther with the other and then scoop up your balls and gently stroke each one. I like thinking about what’s inside them and where it will go. I swirl my tongue in my mouth gathering extra saliva and part my mouth over your shaft. The warm saliva coats you as I slide my mouth over your head. You’re already so taut and stretching upward. There isn’t a spare space of slack skin on your shaft. My vulva responds with arousal again. My lips seal over your head and my tongue probes under the ridge, tracing from side to cleft in back to other side. I draw more saliva around you and let it drip down your length lubing up right where the friction will build. Relaxing my throat, I take you down deeper making swirling circles with my tongue on the underside of your shaft and you slide in inch by inch. I look up at you. Your eyes are closed. But if they were open, you’d see that I’m looking at you, pleasuring your full hard cock in my mouth and unashamed. This is my pleasure too.
I take you as far as I can. My chin feels the hairs from your ball sack and the tip of your head starts to probe a slicker, deeper part of my throat. More saliva drips. My thumb and pointer finger on my free hand encircle the base of your cock and follow my lips as I slide up and return to your head. Take a breath. A few strokes with my hand up and down your cock coat it completely in wetness. I swirl my mouth down your cock again and add a few side to side twists with my hand. I wonder how that motion feels as it snakes down your shaft. The beginning is always slower for me. I get used to feeling your length and girth fill up my mouth. My throat adjusts to your cock penetrating it. A slicker lubrication is drawn out from the back of my throat. I feel like a slip ‘n slide for your dick. I pump up and down and my hand follows, keeping your shaft gripped before I descend again. I slide you in back and swallow so that my throat tightens on your tip. Up and down, up and down, up and down. My hand is covered in spit. My lips and mouth are drenched. You can hear my breath cut short each time I plunge down on you. Your hips start to trust against my down strokes.
“Hm-mm” I vocalize as best I can. I don’t get much sound out before the head of your cock closes off my airway again.
Your balls become a bell weather for your excitement. They draw up and your hips are rocking harder. I can feel your length swelling more. I move faster up and down. Loose pieces of my hair shake free again and wick up the trails of spit. I squeeze harder on your dick with my hand, looking for signs of pleasure crossing over to pain. None so far. My thighs are burning from supporting the weight of my abdomen and staying poised on you. But I don’t have to wait long. Your hand reaches down and touches my shoulder. Your head is tilted back and mouth agape. You look relaxed and tense at the same time.
“Yes,” escapes your lips, low and hoarse, and your hips more forcefully face fuck me while I sneak one last breath and plunge down on you. You pump, pump, pump into the back of my mouth. A guttural sound, something between an “Ah” and a “Ungh” follows. This is the part where I’m not sure if I should hold still and let your thrusting take over or if I should match you stroke for stroke. I pause and lightly give you a few lip-sealed strokes. Now I can taste you, salty, milky, like mild yogurt. I relish the idea of your sperm squirming in my throat and stomach. I slide up and off the top of your head and take a long swallow. You are still and drained. I’m breathing heavily catching up on some lost breaths. I wipe my mouth with my hand and wipe my stroking hand against that not so innocent pink slip crumpled below my breasts.
You give me a sleepy smile and pull back the covers while I hit the light and crawl into bed next to you. I roll over to my side and position a pillow between my knees, a pregnancy sleeping must. Swallowing the last traces of your taste, I make a few mental notes. Maybe more fingertips against your thighs next time. Though I’m tired, I stay awake for a little while. I see 10:56 pm on the clock. Some nervous thoughts about upcoming labor keep me awake. But eventually, sleep finds me.
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