She met him, opened for him, welcomed his cock into the places she knew had waited for him. Only him.
And it wasn’t more than a few moments later, that he thrust so deep she felt his warmth from her belly to her toes. He stilled—and on a harsh groan he reached his release inside her.
For a few seconds she held her breath as the sensation of his fiery seed filling her took her breath away. Then, suddenly and to her surprise, her own release crept up on her again, different this time, seemingly born deep within her, but encouraged by the throbbing cock still pulsating against inexperienced muscles.
She gasped for breath, her legs lifting to lock around Paul’s body and hold him closer, to prolong this unique moment when both of them whirled into an unearthly vortex of sensually erotic madness.
All too soon they sank to earth again, collapsing over each other in a tangle of sticky, sweaty flesh and limp limbs. Sated and exhausted, they lay there, waiting for their hearts to slow back to something resembling normalcy.
Finally, Harriet moved, tugging the hair trapped under Paul’s arm to one side. “Well, goodness. I can only echo your words. You are a most unexpectedly amazing and wonderful husband, Paul.” She stretched languorously and yawned. “I am also most pleased.”
He grinned and cuddled her into his body. “Happy Christmas, love.”
