“Shhh, relax for me. You’ll take this first before you can take my cock.”
I nod, mouth parted, face scrunching under the stretch of my hole.
“Wolf… it hurts. It hurts,” I whimper, my pussy pulsing against his thigh.
“You’re doing so well, love. Fuck, I wish you could see yourself right now.”
I melt a little when he says that, relaxing my body, and it gives him the opportunity to push the plug deeper inside me. It doesn’t hurt as much this time and I feel so full. The only thing missing is having him in my mouth.
“Oh my God…”
A kiss on my temple makes me shiver in his arms. “Come for me, Victoria.”
My hips thrust forward one last time before pleasure floods me again—stronger, harder. My legs shake, and I’m frozen in an arched position, my head back, feeling every spasm, every throb. Every wave of arousal washing out of me one by one.
Wolf leans back in his chair, watching me as I struggle to take back control of my breathing pattern.
Suddenly, I realize his hands are empty, and my hole feels fuller than before I came.
“Go put on something pretty. We’re going out.”
“What, likethis?” I say, my face heating up. “What if… what if someone figures it out? I don’t think this is a good idea—”
“The only way someone would know I stuffed my wife with a plug in her ass is if they looked under your skirt. But by the time they do that, they’d already be dead.”
He doesn’t smile when he says it, and I know he means it. Which would scare me, if I wasn’t fucked in the head. My heart flutters. The only thing that makes me agree is that I’m pretty sure no one would be stupid enough to get that close to me in the first place. Not with him around.
“Okay,” I say, taking in a long breath.
I’m still on his thigh, naked and wet, sitting in my own arousal, my pussy pulsing softly. I wonder if he feels me through the material of his pants. His hand cups my face, and he looks me dead in the eye.
“Now be a good girl and lick my clothes clean from the mess you made.”
WOLFGANG
Something is different about my wife. About myself, too. I told her I wanted to fuck her ass, and instead of spitting in my face,she asked me if I’d hurt her. And if I’d make it feel good.
Either I’m coming up with signs that aren’t there or maybe, just maybe, she’s coming around. Maybe she’s not afraid of me anymore. Maybe she sees me. And chooses to be mine.
When she lowers herself between my knees, my cock hardens beyond what I thought was possible. She watches me, her eyes blue and hooded, with whatever innocence still swarming there about to vanish into thin air. Her tongue darts out, pink and soft. And the next thing I know, she licks the wetness she left on my pants.
I’m frozen. Time flows and stretches, dispersing, and all I know is her and the faint feel of her tongue. I groan, my chest heavy. This is the prettiest she’s ever been—right here, tasting herself and the proof of what I do to her. My cock grows and grows, but I refrain from shoving it down her throat. From doing other filthy things to her. At least, until we get back.
When she’s done, she licks her lips and leans back on her heels, watching me like she wants more. Like she’s not satiated, like she knows I own her, and only I can give her what she wants. My lips tug at the corner.
I bring my hand behind her head and pull her into me, pressing my mouth to hers. So fucking sweet. The taste of her cunt lingers. Maybe now she’ll understand why I love to lick her.
“Good girl. When we get back, we’re fucking that beautiful ass. Yes, love?”
She nods, breathless and mesmerized.
“Go get dressed. Let’s get you out of here.”
She gets up and with quiet grace, she heads into the walk-in closet, giving me a sight of her round ass and the ruby that's peeking out of her hole.
Satisfaction, pride, amusement—they all course through me at the same time. Because finally, after so much going on between us, my wife has become my slut. She falls to her knees, starving, desperate, mine. And I fucking love it.
But something else is growing inside me… a sickness taking root in my mind. I tried denying it, I really tried. And yet, I no longer think what we have is enough.
