I remember that particular night, many years ago. I was holding my not-yet-husband's prick in my hand, rubbing it on my face. I pressed the fleshy head against my closed eyelids, then rubbed it on one cheek, then the other. I kissed it lightly with my lips. My tongue flicked out and tasted the pre-cum that was oozing from the tiny hole at the tip. I pushed my tongue in the little hole while my hand moved down to my man's testicles. I lifted them in my hand, feeling their weight, knowing that they held the precious sperm that I wanted inside me.
Rick was naked, lying on a motel bed. He liked it when I idolized his penis. I would play with it for hours, it seemed, before and then between sessions of Rick using it to make love to me. Yes, his prick was my idol. I've read about those little religious statues that people would put on the dashboard of their car. If I could find a tiny statue of a penis, I would have it in my car. I wouldn't need it to remind me though, because Rick's prick is usually on my mind all day, anyway. I was finishing my last year of college and had trouble concentrating in class; my mind was always remembering being in bed with Rick, enjoying his cock, making love.
I squeezed the rigid shaft of his penis. It was the perfect size to fit in my hand. I wondered why the head is shaped like a mushroom. It's probably specifically designed so a woman can get a grip on it and have something to wrap her lips around. I licked the underside of the fleshy head, then swirled my tongue around the base of the mushroom. He jerked in response to my tongue sliding down the length of the shaft, approaching his balls. He has pubic hair scattered over his nuts and his prick is situated in a nest of short curly hair. I get some in my teeth from time to time. He does the same and makes a game out of pretending to spit out one of my pubes when we are at dinner or just riding in the car.
My nose nestled into the loose pillow of his scrotum. I moved my mouth to the bottom of his testicles and licked the little space between his balls and his asshole. My finger traced his crack from back to front, pausing to probe and lightly scratch his little anus with my long fingernail. I'd promised him that I was going to peg his asshole once we were married.
I kissed my way back to his penis, inhaling his scent as my nose traced his prick back to the tip. My teeth lightly bit the shaft, holding his cock like a dog would hold a bone. My hands were rubbing the inside of his thighs. Men are just as sensitive there as women are. His flesh was soft in the area just below his package.
My nose combed through his pubic hair, smelling his manliness, his pheromones. I love his smell, even when he is all sweaty. One time, I jumped him after he had played basketball for over an hour. I put my face against his hairy chest and pushed against him, transferring his slimy sweat to my breasts. My arms were around his neck and I was kissing him. I dropped down to my knees and pulled his gym shorts and his jockstrap down his legs. His sweaty cock was still hiding in his crotch, but I coaxed it out by flicking my tongue over the tiny hole that was oozing fluid. I was soon sucking his smelly dick and I loved it. I loved him no matter what and wanted to have him and taste him even when he was dirty and smelly.
But back to that night years ago.
I asked him, "Are you going to just use this thing just for fun, or are you going to use it for what it is supposed to do, get me pregnant."
He said, "Be patient. Once we are married, I intend to knock you up the first night."
I said, "I can't wait. I want you to put a baby in my belly, now."
"But we're not married. Your reputation will be ruined."
I laughed and said, "I think my reputation has already taken the hit. Just about everyone knows I've been sleeping with you for months."
