A Lucy Man

I know what people are wondering when we walk down the street. When we turn up at parties together. When I come home and she opens the door to greet me.

My wife is an absolute smokeshow.

If you're like me, the first thing you'll notice is her beautiful face. Deep brown eyes, full lips that are always quick to curve into a pretty little smile with dimples and perfect white teeth--it took me a while to recover the first time I saw that smile. Thick black hair that flows down just past her shoulder blades.

And then you notice her body. She's tiny--just a couple inches over five feet. Barely reaches my chin even in high heels. But god, that body of hers. Slender and athletic, firm but soft, perfectly smooth skin with a light, natural tan. That teeny, tiny waist above the most perfect ass I still can't take my eyes off of, and perky, gravity-defying B-cups I have never been able to resist. I couldn't dream up a more fuckable body if I tried.

In contrast, I'm a pretty average guy. I go for a run every morning to keep myself reasonably fit, but I'm hardly turning heads, except in puzzlement over how the hell I managed to convince a woman of this calibre to marry me.

I still wonder the same thing every day. She was--and still is--always surrounded by suitors, most of whom she barely notices. She's used to the attention. I make a decent living, I have perfectly average looks that wouldn't draw a second glance, and my hair was already thinning even when I first met her. Yet I've seen high-flyers, models, powerful and successful men of all persuasions throw themselves at her feet. She'll flirt and enjoy the compliments, but always comes home to me. Some refuse to give up--hapless hangers-on, hopeful even to this day that I might mess things up so they can swoop right in.

I don't feel the least bit threatened. Because I know what she wants, and I intend to give it to her every night.

What I give her, in one simple word, is my tongue. And whatever you're thinking, trust me, it's better than you can even imagine. I've got a decent sized cock, and have the unbeatable privilege of fucking this sexy woman with it to my heart's content. But it's my tongue that has her going weak in the knees and begging me to join her in our marital bed every night. She would offer to do the chores, suck me off, cook my favourite meals in exchange for the feel of it on her body.

None of her friends, family, or coworkers have any idea how easily she dissolves into a helpless, moaning, sopping wet little sex kitten with just a few well-placed licks.

She wants my tongue all over her. This sexy little minx who wears my ring has the most intriguing erogenous zones. She keeps herself squeaky clean, smooth-shaven, and ready for me at all times. And she is every bit as delicious as she looks.

Every night, after we've sorted out our obligations and dinner's been put away, she'll give me The Look. That's when I pretend I'm considering my options, as though I haven't been thinking about it all day.

Do I lift her off her feet and carry her to the bedroom? Do I throw her onto the couch? Do I pat my lap and tell her to sit straddling me? Even then there's a choice on the menu of whether I want her facing me, or away from me. Do I want to feast on her gorgeous little breasts, run my tongue over her sensitive little nipples while she whimpers and yelps, or make her quiver by playing with her back, shoulders, and her perfect, round cheeks?

Her neck, ears, thighs, and that delicious little slit above them, which gets wetter and hornier as I tease her, remain accessible whether I am servicing her front or her back.

I do so love those tits in my face, heaving as her breath shortens and her heart rate speeds up. But there's something about feeling her squirm beneath me, pushing her little butt against my member, which is without exception, rock hard at the sight of her in any state of undress. A wonderful little preview of what is to come, when I wish to feel my cock inside her.

I run my tongue over her skin--any part of it I please. A toe, perhaps, to start with. Along the length of her perfect, smooth legs. The firm, gently curving flesh between her thighs. Even licking her arms can give her goosebumps. Her shoulders, I can already hear her go 'hmmmmm' on contact. Her neck always draws a luxurious moan. And her ears--those are a must. I could make her wet by simply holding her down and breathing on those ears. And mmmmmmfh those nipples, so, so, so amazingly sensitive. Long, wet licks, tiny flicks of the tongue, soft butterfly kisses, a gentle little nibble now and again. Her reactions are instant, uncontrollable. Like magic--dark, wonderful magic that turns my sweet, beautiful wife into a shaking, begging, helpless little whore.

As I work my way along her body, rendered that much harder to resist as she squirms for me, I hear her sweet little moans and gasps progress steadily into shouts and pleas. I reach down every now and then to feel her moistness turn to a glistening trickle.

When I choose to flip her over and bury myself in her eager little pussy is entirely up to me. I thread my arms through her limbs and hold her down, legs spread open, and dive right in. God, the noises she makes. The way she tenses and jerks in my arms as my tongue flicks her sensitive little clit. Slow, fast, however the fuck I want her. The way her sweet little juices flow as I reach in to massage her G-spot with my fingers and slurp up every last delicious drop of her. Every last 'oohhhhhh' and 'yessssss' and 'riiiiight there, baby' like a ribbon of silk that runs from my ears and shoots right down to sustain my hard-on.

I don't work towards a number, when I'm making my wife cum. I work on sustaining it, on feeling her pleasure rise in crests and waves, on building up as much intensity as I can. Watching her lose every last care in the world, thrusting herself into my tongue and fingers as though it's the only thing that she will ever need... it's nothing short of a religious experience.

The signs are far from subtle, when she starts to crave my cock. Her fingers will travel from my hair and my arms down to my hips, pull at my pants, if I've still got them on me. She'll thrust her pelvis against me. Her soft, long orgasmic moans will pick up in urgency, like a wordless plea.

Sometimes I take her cue and go right into it, but if you're a fan of dirty talk like I am, this is the moment. I wrap my hands around her hair and look her in the eyes and tell her I'm about to fuck her. That feeling I get when she replies, breathlessly, some variation of 'yes, yes, I want it please fuck me please give me your cock baby'. Mmmmmmf. If I could bottle it up, I would.

Seven and a half inches, thick and rock hard, but she's sopping wet and all warmed up, so I can slide myself right in, hard and fast. She moans and takes it, gratefully. If I hold her down and drive it in hard, she squeeze me oh so deliciously; she can't fucking help it. If I lean over and lick her ears while I fuck her, she lets out a low, guttural moan and shakes like she's losing her goddamn mind. I am past the point of no return myself, and nothing will stop me from pumping into her until I cum inside her. She's so horny at this point that she will dive for my cock and lick me clean. The sight of this spectable alone make me throw her back down for round two.

It's our little routine now, and god, if I don't taste her often enough, does she pout and sulk. But she never has to wait too long. I need it as much as she does, mind. But sometimes I pretend I'm not in the mood. That she has to convince me. Fuck, the things she'll do to tempt me, as though I'm not already thinking of fucking her every minute.

She'll parade around the house in her laciest lingerie, her shortest and tightest dresses. She'll plop into my lap, remove a random item of clothing, leave it behind and walk suggestively up the stairs. She'll even push my legs open, unzip my pants, and polish my cock and balls. Like any irresistible goddess, she knows exactly how I like it. Lapping at my balls, licking my shaft, sucking hard as she slides it down her throat, soft humming moans, unbroken eye contact. Sometimes I empty myself into her mouth before telling her to strip naked and wait in the bed. She runs off with such eagerness. God bless her.

Stare at her all you want, folks. You can go ahead and run your eyes over her stunning little body and shake your heads and wonder how the hell I manage to do it. I won't be bothered one bit, because I've made her mine, body and spirit, and she'll be giving herself to me, begging me to lick her, fuck her, and play with her tonight.

Just like she does every night.