Teddy Bears

Fifth Installment in the "Latina" Series of Erotic Tales

People say that old married couples think so much alike that they say the same things at the same time, or finish each other's sentences. My husband and I are so compatible, that we were already doing this by our third date. Just three months after our first date, we were married, and our love has been growing stronger every day. Having the same thoughts at the same time has become more frequent.

So I guess it should be no surprise that among the gifts we gave each other on our first anniversary, we gave each other nearly the same gift. He gave me a white teddy bear holding a pillow saying "I love you" in one hand, and a balloon in the other. I gave him a light-brown teddy bear holding a box of candies in his arms. We placed both teddy bears on the shelf above the headboard of our bed.

My husband and I are both intelligent, well-educated, rational professionals (well, OK, so maybe when we start craving each other, rationality goes out the window). But there is something about those teddy bears that makes us think maybe tales of the supernatural aren't as far-fetched as our rational minds would like us to believe.

I guess we first noticed the supernatural nature of our teddy bears when we had a minor disagreement about the temperature of our house. It was a hot autumn night, so I turned up the air conditioner full blast. Even so, I still felt hot. But my husband complained that he was freezing. We argued a little, and he decided to wrap himself in a blanket and watch TV in the living room.

While he was gone, I took the time to get comfortable in bed. I was too mad at my husband to even THINK about sex, which in retrospect was kind of silly, since sex with him is ALWAYS phenomenal, and our argument was so trivial. Nevertheless, at the time, my choice of bed clothes--skimpy white panties and a barely-there lacy white camisole (which resembles the upper half of a full-body slip)--was more for my own comfort in bed, than for any arousal that the sight of me so scantily dressed might cause in him. That is, I was not CONSCIOUSLY trying to look sexy. But even when I am mad at him (which, fortunately for our love life, is not very often), I still love him with all of my heart and soul, and I guess subconsciously with all of my lust, too. As it turned out, once we both calmed our anger, my choice of bed clothes would prove to be a happy one for both of us, and would once more make us far less calm, much more excited and excitable, but in a much friendlier and happier sort of way than our argument had.

He watched a movie for a while, and then came back into our bedroom. I smiled inwardly at his double-take when he saw me draped so sexily, so invitingly, on our bed. My wide, reddish-brow areolas, which he so enjoys fondling, kissing, licking, and nibbling (mmmm! I love when he does that), were now peering out from under my loose and frilly top, which was falling off of my breasts, and which lacked a bra underneath. But despite how fetching I might have unintentionally made myself look at that moment, and despite how much I ALWAYS crave his gentle, loving, thrusting, throbbing 8 inches, we were both still too mad at each other to even THINK about making love with each other just yet. Nevertheless, the mischievous side of my nature just couldn't resist teasing him a little, so I sat up, pulled my falling-off top the rest of the way down, flashed him a quick glimpse of my firm 38-C globes, let his loving gaze linger as he admired my curvy hips and my skimpy panties, and then I pulled my skimpy camisole top back up into place again.

Not only my teasing, but also the supernatural nature of our two teddy bears, would quickly change our temporary and mutual lack of sexual desire, however. For it was just at that moment, when I finished my somewhat-hostile teasing, that I noticed our teddy bears, and pointed them out to my husband. The white teddy bear that he had given me had its arms crossed across its chest, with body language that bespoke anger. The white bear's head was turned away from the brown bear I had given him. His brown bear had its head drooping downward in sadness, and was also looking away from my white bear. Seeing our supernatural teddy bears looking so sad and remorseful, now filled both of our own hearts and souls with remorse for the silly argument that we had just had.

Before my husband got back into our bed, I sat up, and we both said at the same time, "I'm sorry." The fact that we said this in unison made us both laugh.

"I forgive you," we both said at the same time. We both laughed again. "We said that at the same time," we again both said in unison. By now, we were both laughing hard at the coincidence of saying everything at the same time.

"Come here," I said, stretching out my arms to him, "give me a hug." He sat down beside me, facing me, and we hugged.

He then kissed the left side of my neck, which always starts igniting my deep passion for him. I lifted up his T-shirt, and I began kissing his chest and nibbling his nipples. He lay flat on his back, and I climbed on top of him, so I could really focus on kissing and licking his strong, masculine, hairy chest, that so excites me. I began gently nibbling on his extremely-sensitive nipples, which I knew from experience would quickly excite him, as much as it does me.

He began to moan, and arching his back, rocked his hips up and down. I knew that he was getting hard, but as horny as we were both getting now, I really wasn't quite ready to focus my energy, attention, and talents on his long, thick, delicious cock just yet. I only wanted to keep concentrating on licking and nibbling his well-sculpted chest for a while longer, making him continue to squirm, gyrate, and moan. I was so proud of my skills, proud of my knowledge of my husband's sexy body and precisely where to focus to turn him on to me, so proud that I could bring my husband SO much pleasure without even TOUCHING his powerful cock yet. My Frank has always been such a skilled, attentive, and generous lover with me, that all I wanted just then was for this mutually-joyous moment of my pleasuring his muscular chest (and of his chest pleasuring my mouth, which was already salivating at the mere THOUGHT of all the lustful things we were about to do to, for, and with each other), I wanted this special and joyful moment of our just-starting- to-unfold passion to last as long as possible, before building up to the next higher plateau.

After a few minutes, he sat up, pulled off his T-shirt completely, and rolled me onto my back. He partially removed my loose, sheer white top, pulling it off of me just enough to expose my 38-C breasts, wide dark areolas, and long, hard, horny nipples, but he did not take my skimpy top completely off of me just yet.

I helped speed the access that he so obviously craved to my already-aroused erogenous zones, when I pulled my scanty panties out away from my already- quivering-in-anticipation hips, and lifted and spread my smooth, creamy, silky legs and knees. I slowly, seductively slid my skimpy, moistening panties down my dark, shapely, well-toned legs. As I delicately slid my panties off of me, my frilly top was still wide open, my nipples were growing even longer and harder, and my areolas were getting wider and darker (just the way his lips, tongue and teeth like them to be), all of which quite clearly signaled to Frank that I was already well along into the early stages of my own arousal. My slow, sensuous removal of my own panties now exposed my hot, horny, hungry pussy to his admiring and lustful gaze (and I hoped very soon, to his highly-skilled fingers and tongue as well).

He now began kissing my breasts, starting at the top, working his tongue around my very wide, reddish-brown areolas, then sucking and nibbling on my hard, 1/2- inch long nipples. Then he kissed under my breasts. How does he know how much I love this? Could it be because whenever he is so loving to my breasts, nipples, and areolas, he always makes me moan, shriek in his ear, gyrate like the completely-uninhibited slut that his sweet loving always turns me into, and quiver from head-to-toe in anticipation of orgasms yet to come, as his skills make me melt into his strong, hairy, muscular, masculine arms?

Before I could ponder such questions, he next kissed me fully and hard right on my eager lips, while curling his long, thin middle finger and snaking it slowly into the fleshy folds of my already-moistening slit. While his middle finger massaged my G-spot, his circling thumb massaged my clit. He smiled mischievously, because he KNOWS that his gentle, deeply-probing finger, ALWAYS gets my tight, hot, juicy snatch all slicked-up with lusty desire for him. He KNOWS that soon enough, my strong pussy muscles will be lovingly clamping down tightly around his thick, thrusting, cock, as it slowly, powerfully invades my welcoming love canal. Not enough men realize that stroking a woman's G-spot and rubbing her clit AT THE SAME TIME, gets her in the mood to want to try ANYTHING and EVERYTHING with him; I'm lucky enough to have a man who understood that from day one, and we BOTH reap the rewards of his skills.

Now his kisses trailed down to my belly button, then around to the very feminine curve of my hips, which he likes to kiss and stroke, starting from where my torso slopes inward to my waist, then out along to where my hips gently curve back outward to meet my ass and my legs. Other than first my pussy, and then my big, soft, but firm 38-C breasts, and finally my firm, curvaceous ass, it is the smoothly-sloping curve of my hips that seems to be my husband's favorite part of my anatomy, judging by how much time his fingers, lips, and tongue have spent visiting there this past year. Yes, he really loves my hips; I formed that conclusion because, all through our steamy relationship, his lips and fingers have paid almost as much loving attention to my soft, curvaceous, volutptuous hips, as they have to all of my more-traditional erogenous zones.

Now he slowly planted a series of soft, gentle, loving kisses, all the way down my left leg, starting from my hips, kissing his way down my creamy thigh, over my bent knee, down my calf, along my ankle (another spot men need to pay more attention to, judging by how wet his kisses, licks, and strokes on my ankle always make me), and all over my toes, which were already curling as my dampness grew inside my pussy (which he had yet to even touch). Then he started his kisses up at my thighs again.

He was lying on the bed on his tummy now, and as he kissed his way down my leg, I could feel the mattress quake with each heartbeat-throb of his pulsating 8-inch cock against the sheet. I knew that in his current state of arousal, his second set of kisses down my legs would never make it all the way down to my toes. Sure enough, he stopped at my knee, then began kissing up my right leg, from the knee upward. Even in his haste to reach my fleshy, reddish-pink folds, his loving kisses and caresses continued to be slow and gentle: in other words, sheer heaven!

He was just too excited now, and I knew EXACTLY what he wanted, what he ALWAYS wants: a taste of my sweet, creamy pussy juice. Most women I know (and many of them DO confide in me the most intimate details of their own love lives, since I confide my own), can rarely, if ever, get their men to eat them out. But lucky me, I am blessed with a husband who loves to lick, suck, and nibble on my clit and my G-spot several times a week. He loves making me quake and gush, and he is a true gourmet when it comes to the taste of my fresh pussy juices, as they gush up into his face. How lucky can one woman get, to have such a kind, considerate, loving husband, who always takes SUCH good care of my hot, hungry, horny little pussy like that? Am I bragging? I guess I am; I have it all, and he is 100% all MINE, nobody else's!

Anyway, as I was saying, I knew he was now ready and eager to eat me out. So I spread my legs apart, with one leg raised high in the air, so that when his kisses returned to the tops of my thighs, it would be easy for him to continue his kissing straight across to my hungry pussy. While I settled into position, he removed his white silk boxers with the red Valentine's hearts, which I had bought him, and I could now see his massive hard cock throbbing in mid-air.

Lying on his tummy again, with his head well placed between my wide-spread legs, and his thick, quivering cock pressed down deeply into the bedsheets, he kissed my thick patch of dark pubic hair, then down to the outside of my pussy lips, which were already starting to open, and which were quivering in anticipation of his lips and tongue.

Gently prying the edges of my dew-coated outer lips apart with two fingers, he let his kisses go just inside the entrance of my pussy. Then his tongue slowly curled out of his mouth, licking just inside of my lips, and then licking along the sides of my inner walls. His magical and masterful tongue worked-over my growing clit, while his gently-probing fingers concentrated on exciting the cliff- like region of my G-spot, that oh-so-sensitive spot directly BEHIND my excited little clit.

This combination of his attentions to me, soon had all SORTS of horny juices flowing, from just about everywhere inside of my eager pussy. My breathing grew more labored, and as I panted ever more heavily and rapidly, I simultaneously wished both for this moment to last forever, and for it to end in a grand series of crashing waves of endless climax, for my juices to splatter all over his face.

"Wow," he said, sliding a second finger into me, and then withdrawing his hand to inspect the thick, dewy, sticky coating that my growing excitement had left on his fingers. "You're already SO-O-O wet."

"Just thinking about you does that to me, my sweet," I said. Then with a sly smile, and a half-wink, I continued, "Of course, your wonderful probing fingers, and your incredibly-talented licking tongue, might be increasing my excitement just a LITTLE!"

My sexy talk and juicy responses, just seemed to encourage his naughty misbehavior. But that was no problem for me, since that was my plan all along. I loved being the beneficiary of my own encouragement toward him.

Next, his tongue probed deeper inside of me, then started working its way back out, stopping at that little cliff where my walls start to narrow, and licking that sensitive place just inside, that some people think might be the elusive and legendary "G-spot". Whether that's a G-spot or not, his tongue sure felt exquisite when it licked there, and my inner walls were now heavily lubricated with my desire for his tongue and his cock. I knew that, soon enough, I would be experiencing both.

Now his tongue moved upward, his licks trying to coax my clit out of hiding. His tongue pushed open my hood, just enough for him to suck my tiny clit up into his mouth. He kissed and licked on and around my love button.

I looked down my own torso, and I saw that his eyes were wide open, studying me intently, watching my little button grow bigger and harder. Now he began softly nibbling his teeth on my clit. From somewhere deep down, way inside the hidden recesses beneath my clit, I felt my thick, creamy liquid start to boil up toward the surface. I moaned, and I squirmed my hips from side-to-side on the bed, my damp pussy now wide open and highly- receptive to all of the intense pleasures that he was so generously and lovingly bestowing upon me.

"Yes, honey," he said. "That's right. Don't hold anything back."

"Oh, you've got her! You've got her!" I cheered him on. As I moaned my continuing encouragement, I cupped my big, round breasts in my own two hands, spreading my knees as wide apart as I could, thrusting my quivering hips and my hot, horny pussy ever higher up off of our bed, quaking from head to toe, and starting to feel my crashing series of orgasms rumble up from the deepest depths of my very soul. I knew that soon, very soon, I would be exploding all of my hot, sticky, gooey, creamy passion all over his masterful tongue, that loving tongue which was causing my reaction in the first place. Again, I wanted this moment of impending orgasm to last forever, while at the same time praying for it to end quickly and dramatically in 5 or 6 thundering, crashing, total-body waves of intense orgasm, one right after the other. I didn't know what I wanted, really--all I could do was moan, thrash around the bed, and enjoy all the sensations he was bringing to all five of my senses just then, as he skillfully continued to slowly lick, suck, nibble, munch, and eat me into sheer ecstasy.

How can I even BEGIN to describe the overwhelming ecstasy that I was feeling just then? My heart was pounding in my ears, beating and thumping loudly just beneath my soft-but-firm 38-C breasts, which stood straight up from my prone position, my entire breast surface pointing proudly and defiantly skyward, despite my 47 years and the effects of gravity. My nipples had grown to their full half-inch length, their hardness like molded rubber, nicely accenting my 3-inch-wide, reddish-brown areolas, which my husband SO enjoys fondling, licking, and nibbling. My inner walls were all slicked-up with lusty love juices, desperately craving (with an absolutely RAVENOUS hunger) his thrusting, throbbing, pulsing, pounding, plunging 8-inch length and two-inch thickness. In reaction to his tongue's masterful licking and his teeth's gentle nibbling, my clit had sprung forth out of hiding from behind its hood, and had grown long, strong, and hard, throbbing like a miniature cock, and growing nearly as long and thick as a cock. My G-spot was already starting to gather-up gallons of my creamy dew, impatiently waiting for just the right moment to gush forth against his insistently- probing tongue.

"Let me taste your sweet juice," he moaned. "Let me have all of your juice. Let me feel it on my tongue, and deep in my throat." Now his tongue moved past my clit, to the little mini-slit right at the very top of my bigger pussy slit, and he tried to dart his tongue inside. But his tongue was too wide to fit inside this tiny opening, so he resumed his licking on my clit, and all along my inner walls.

That did it. I bucked my hips up into his face, wanting my pussy to pass right through his face, so his wonderful tongue could probe more deeply than ever before. I wanted his tongue to snake and probe all the way through my pussy, and out the other end, that's how deep I wanted his terrific tongue to explore now. I started thrusting and bucking the entire lower half of my body up and down very quickly, and each time I thrust upward, his head swung further downward, and his tongue expertly swept along more and more of the length of my dripping-wet pussy, clit, and G-spot, all of which urgently wanted, desperately NEEDED, to come. Then he sucked my clit all the way back up into his mouth again, and his teeth softly clenched my hot, throbbing little love button, and he simply would not let it go.

"Don't hold anything back. Give me all of your juice," he said again, and just as he was saying it, I did. My tender, horny G-spot oozed what seemed like gallons of my thick, gooey love cream from all around my clit, splattering forcefully onto his still-licking tongue. I watched, fascinated and excited, as he let my cream slide down his throat, just as he had said he would. He continued to eagerly lick at my pussy lips and my clit, until he really DID suck out every last drop of my passion juice.

"Mmmmm! Hon-NEY! Your juice is absolutely DELICIOUS!" he proclaimed with a tone of genuine enjoyment, between loud moans and eager slurps, kissing my pubic hair, then drawing his face back away from me, gazing at the thick, sticky evidence of his loving skills, like a painter admiring his just-completed masterpiece. As a rivulet of goo continued to stream straight down out of my wide-open beaver, landing on my thighs and on the bedsheets, my fingers reached up and tenderly, lovingly wiped-off the thick globs of my own fresh juices that were now smeared all over his lips and chin. He then slowly, patiently licked every last drop of my passion off of my fingers. Next, he bent his head back down between my still- widespread thighs. He began to lick all of my juices off of my thighs, off of my thick, dark, well-trimmed pussy fur, and off of my still wide-open outer pussy lips. Throughout his licking clean-up, a fresh supply of my come continued to slow ooze out of my pussy and onto his tongue. Unless you have experienced this yourself, you cannot possibly even begin to imagine the sheer ecstasy of having your lover's tongue so carefully, thoroughly, expertly, and lovingly clean your post-orgasmic glop off of you, glop that he himself had so skillfully coaxed out of you only moments before.