The Count of Monte CristoChapter 58 M Noirtier de Villefort
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I looked down at my young wife, hovering over her with my arms trapping her against the bed. She looked so tender, lying there covered only by the wispy bedsheet curled lazily across her waist. The delicate curve of her ever so slightly rounded tummy and creamy breast suggested the form of a virgin, an untouched flower waiting to bloom. Yet, I knew that she wasn't nearly as innocent as she looked. Boy, did I ever.
With pure lust in her voice, she leaned forward and hissed in my ear.
"Do me. Now."
Wendy had just come home, and it hadn't been ten seconds before I swept her off her feet and carried her to the bedroom in my arms. The soft thump that came from her bag dropping from her grasp and hitting the tiled hallway floor echoed inside me as I lay her on our bed. A few moments more, and I had her stripped to her skin, stretched out with her legs spread wide in front of me.
Needless to say, I had missed her a lot.
It had only been a week, but it had seemed more like a month since we had last fucked. Wendy had been away at her mother's, helping with spring cleaning as she had been promising to do for months. Because of work, I had stayed home, watching the house in the evenings and getting hornier by the minute. I know it sounds funny, but I actually craved sex with my wife, even more than usual. My mind was racing like a pent-up newlywed's all week long, straining to see that woman - that stunningly sexy woman - just one more time. And why not?
After all, the memories of our last time were still fresh in my mind.
Wendy started feeling sick on a Wednesday, right before I was about to head off to work. By midday, she was bent over the porcelain bowl in our bathroom. I checked in with her throughout the day, figuring that it was just a bad case of the flu or something that she ate at dinner the night before. By that evening, she was buried under a mound of covers in bed, looking and feeling miserable. I took care of her all night, doting on her like a hurt child and bringing her cold washcloths and ginger ale.
When this went on for a few more days, we both knew what it might be. After all, we had never used any protection other than the pill, and by Saturday morning, Wendy was late. Not by a lot, but enough. Fortunately, though, she was feeling better than she had since the whole ordeal started. So with a mix of excitement and trepidation, Wendy and I took the store-bought test into the bathroom that afternoon. Both of us had wanted to have kids, but we had never exactly "tried" to get pregnant. We always figured that it would happen when the time was right. After all, we were both in our mid-twenties, so there was no need to rush. Now, Wendy sat on the toilet, legs parted slightly, ready to find out just what course our lives were going to take next.
I knelt in front of her. As she pissed across the test strip, my inner anxiety was washed over with an overwhelming urge to lean over and lick her. So I did. She giggled at first, but somehow that one lick turned into a pussy lapping session that lasted us until the results turned up. I don't know how many orgasms she had while splayed there on the toilet, but she was right in the middle of one when she opened her eyes and suddenly shrieked. Instantly, I followed her gaze to the test on the counter.
It had two stripes. Baby.
Needless to say, we were both excited and scared all at once. But after returning to the bed and talking about it all in each other's arms, the elation inside us outweighed the fear as Wendy and I fell into a passionate kiss. My lips played over hers softly, feeling the tenderness within her sweeping over me and overwhelming my senses. Our hands roamed as we kissed, caressing each other's tingling bodies with gentleness and ardor all at once. In three years of being married, we had made love many, many times - yet, these sensations were brand-new, almost shockingly so, making us all the more aroused.
With our passion running wild, she disrobed me and pulled me between her legs. My dick stood at full attention, pressing against her soft inner thigh. Craning my neck around hers, I lapped at her round, supple earlobe with wet caresses of my tongue as I felt my penis slipping ever closer to her moist pussy. In a moment, I was there. Shifting slightly, I pressed forward and entered her, stroking all the way into her and letting my instincts take over. Staccato gasps and pitched moans flew between us like wildfire as the feelings inside us swelled, until the pressure became unbearable and the dam holding us back burst. With a deep breath and a heavy grunt, I exploded inside her as she came, spraying her insides with my hot, sticky come.
After that first time, we spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening fucking again and again in an orgy of celebration. Over and over we joined together, my penis sliding into her wet pussy with ease as my balls spanked her ass and clit. I don't remember just how many times we each came, but afterwards, we were both so worn out we fell asleep in each other's arms and didn't wake up until Sunday afternoon. Sore, sleepy, but very satisfied, we somehow managed to crawl out of bed and join the living again - this time with a sparkle in our eyes in anticipation of what was to come.
Wendy left later that day, sealing her departure with an unusually exciting kiss that tingled my senses. She grinned and just like that, was gone. From there on, I was all of one quivering mass of stone-hard cock. Now, after a long week of abstinence, she was back. And I wanted her.
I could hear her panting quietly as I gazed down at her nude form. My hands covered her breasts and gave them a light squeeze, feeling her aroused nipples pressing against my palms. I was already stiff, an uncomfortable tent forming in my briefs and jeans with seven inches of hard cock pointing out in Wendy's direction. That last must have caught her eye, because my wife grabbed my pants by the belt loops and dragged me over her chest in a swift, insistent move.
Curious to see just what she had in mind, I peered down into her dancing eyes. The hunger in them was unmistakable, both real and powerful. She reached forward and undid my jeans, zipping them down and moving my fabric-covered bulge closer to her. Another moment, and she had hastily pulled the waistband of my underwear over my cockhead, springing my dick from its steaming prison. It had hardly stopped bobbing in front of her eyes before she wrapped her lips around the sensitive head and began to suck.
Her hand curved around my shaft and started to pull my length slowly into her mouth. I inhaled as lightning sensations shot through my penis, but after a few short twirls of her tongue, decided to withdraw. Normally, I would have been all too happy to enjoy her special attention, but tonight was different.
She looked at me with a questioning glare. I grinned mischievously and slid down her body, blowing soft kisses along her pale, fair skin. My hands skimmed over her sides with ease as my head wound its way down her tummy, over her navel, and past her curvy hips, to hover over her mound. Wendy hummed softly as my lips and tongue began to caress her pussy, breathing lightly as I flicked soft rushes of pleasure into her body. With small circles around her clit, I lapped at her again and again, raising the building excitement within her slowly but surely. Then, just as suddenly as I'd started, I stopped.
I sat up, my hand wrapped around my dick. Pointing it toward her, I slowly stroked myself and studied her wide-eyed stare.
"Did someone say they needed to be fucked?"
"Yesss," she rasped, reaching up and clutching at my shoulders. "Fuck me! Please..."
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The studio lights go up, the audience cheers and applauds. Max Weinman, the slick studio host, launches into his well-rehearsed patter. "Welcome, welcome, welcome to another game of Beat the Forfeit. As always, we have two couples competing for tonight's jackpot of one hundred thousand pounds. First, in the studio, we have Jim and Russell. Let's meet them." Two men stand behind smart game-show lecterns each displaying a score of zero. Max touches the collar of his open necked shirt, tugs...
Lisa's head swam. She was so damn horny it was difficult for her to think straight. Every inch of her skin felt alive and sensitive. Her puffy and extended nipples even more so. Her cock ached with pleasure even as permanently limp as it now was. Even her balls, shriveled and atrophied as they now were, also ached with pleasure. Her ass was even worse. It felt empty now that Master Carl had removed the plug. Not that the plug helped much with that horniness. Oh, it filled her up...
We’re in the boring, flat, concrete car park, surrounded by boring family cars, looking at the boring red-brick buildings that combine to form the Beddingham International School. But here comes the excitement... She’s sexy, with a fuck-me-but-don’t-fuck-with-me face and long blonde hair is swept around to the side of her head and hangs infront of one shoulder. Her accent, friendly southern English but with a distinct Eastern European edge. “Hello, and welcome to a new series of ‘The...
(Fictional story told from Female point of view) My husband Ron and I like to play sexual games. One game that we sometimes play is Forfeits, this is where I am given some task to fulfil and if I fail I have to take a note from the Lucky Dip jar and act out whatever is written on it. These have ranged from relatively mild things, such as leaving off my panties and flashing my nakedness in a pub, to very severe things like inviting a strange Master from a sex contact mag, to come and beat me....
To perhaps alleviate some of the confusion of many, many names, here is a list of some that are mentioned, but were introduced in previous episodes of the Transformations series. Dr. Julia Waxman, Psychiatrist, Director of Transformation Frank Waxman, Julia's husband, General Manager of Transformations, former fashion exec, General Manager of Magnuson Foundation. Gerald Magnuson, wealthy philanthropist, primary backer of Transformations. Paul Ventri, CFO of Transformations and president...