Patrick gazed at his beautiful, naked wife as she spread her legs for him. Kneeling by her side on the bed, he caressed her slim waist. His hands brushed up her side tenderly. Patrick bent down to kiss Francis's swollen, dark nipples. By this time next year, they would be flowing with milk. She moaned at the feel of his tongue against her left areolas. Oh how he loved igniting her desire until she begged for his member. "S'il vous plait, mon amour, j'ai besoin de vous," she sighed breathlessly. Patrick grinned. Ever the Quebecois, she would slide into French during moments of arousal. Francis reached out to grasp her husband's fiery red pubic hair. Her long lavender nails grazed his pale Celtic skin. A soft, guttural growl emerged from Patrick's throat as her fingers slid down to his hairless scrotum. "Donnez-moi votre sperme," she pleaded.
"All in good time, babe," he replied. "First I want to make your cunt drip." Patrick kissed his way to his wife's familiar vulva. His skilled tongue work reflected over two years of practice in their marital bed. Gone were the nervous nights following their wedding when he was unsure of how to please his first and only lover. By now, he confidently played with her folds and teased her bud. It was a talent he took pride in, on par with his work at Concordia U. Years spent building a strong marriage and successful career were finally paying off. They were ready to conceive and move out to the suburbs of Montreal with the white picket fence and all.
Francis's hand on the back of Patrick's head awoke him from his drifting thoughts. She firmly pulled him into her womanhood. She screamed, "Fort!" Patrick happily obliged by pressing his tongue hard against her clitoris. It protruded ridged against him. Her coarse bush prickled his shaved cheeks. Her delicate fingers tussled his rusty locks. Sealing his lips around Francis's labia minora, Patrick sucked gently. His thumb traveled to her peritoneum. He was rewarded with spasms as an orgasm sent juices flowing into his mouth. Patrick savored the taste of his wife's nectar, knowing that he had mastered her most sensitive spots.
Cocky, Patrick kneeled upright and jerked his 10 inch rod. "I guess you're moist enough now. Tell me sweetly, how do you want to take it? Should I give it to you missionary style, like on our wedding night?"
Francis cupped her husband's balls. "No. Back then we were making love. Tonight, you are breeding me, stud. I want to take it like a bitch. Fuck me doggie style. Fill me with your hot seed." Francis presented herself before him on all fours. Her voluptuous rump swayed temptingly. Patrick kneeled behind her. He rubbed his fuck stick along the crack of her tight ass, an ass he had yet to enter in all those months of marriage. He guided his tool down to her engorged pussy lips. His tapered cockhead teased them. Patrick suck in air as he felt his wife's moister against his bare cock for the first time. It was so much better than fucking with a rubber on. Finally, he could touch skin against skin. Lust built up inside him. He had to discover what her wet vaginal wall felt like.
Patrick grunted with a deep baritone voice as he thrust forward. His wife's silken canal enveloped his naked manhood. He started with a slow mechanical rhythm. With eyes closed, he savored the sensation of her steaming fluids. His fleshy tool explored her neither region with new sensitivity. Patrick opened his eyes to look down at his wife's alabaster back. Her straight, black hair draped across her curving form, the long strands reaching all the way to her bum. He grasped her shoulders firmly and picked up the pace. Cock pounding pussy. Man fucking woman. Stud breeding bitch. This is how marital relations were supposed to be.
