I pulled out when her hole loosened and reached for the carrot.
“Reach back and hold yourself open,” I said, teasing her entrance with the tip of it.“Fresh organic produce. Only the best for my wife.”
She shook her head but leaned into the counter and reached back regardless. Her fingers gripped her plump cheeks and she spread herself open.
“Wider.”
She complied.
I pushed the carrot in.
Little by little.
She opened up beautifully—her body accepting each slow inch with the same reluctant obedience she brought to everything I asked of her. Her cheek was pressed flat against the counter, her breathing deep and deliberate, the kind of focused concentration that told me she was managing herself carefully.
Another inch and I paused.
“Almost there,” I crooned, easing it back and forth in small movements, working her open gradually.
I didn’t stop until the green leaves dangled down to brush against her wet pussy.
I considered the view for a moment.
“There you go,” I said.“All nice and plugged up.” I slapped her thigh and she yelped before it dissolved into a groan.“You can let go now.”
Her hands moved back to the counter and I pulled her hips back, nudging her legs further apart to admire my handiwork.
The carrot. The butter. The wet pussy dripping without permission.
I reached out and flicked the green leaves over her back.
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” I mused.“Your pussy is dripping wet.”
She didn’t answer.
I gripped my cock at the base and buried the head between those slick lips, dragging myself up and down her slit — slow, unhurried, coating myself in her arousal before I decided to do anything with it.
“Not so defiant now, are you?”
“Nyet,” she spat out.
I smiled at the back of her head.
She couldn’t even manage a full sentence of defiance without her body making a liar of her. Still fighting. Still spitting. Dripping down my cock the entire time.
I shook my head.
“You just can’t help yourself,” I murmured.
And pushed myself into her heat.
The carrot made her pussy tighter around me — considerably so — but it didn’t stop me or slow me down. I held her hips and found the rhythm, rocking us both in the oldest pattern there was. The bright orange and green kept drawing my eye back to her, a reminder of exactly how thoroughly this situation had been managed.
It wasn’t until she began to push back to meet my inward thrusts that I increased the pace.
I reached down and cupped her swaying breasts.
“How does it feel to have both holes stuffed full, Iskra?” I asked, palming her flesh before tightening my grip.
