Slowly she opened her mouth wide and sucked the head, taking it deep into her mouth. She flicked and jabbed with her tongue, alternating between hard and soft sucks. She wrapped her fingers around the shaft and squeezed. As her mouth lowered, taking more of him in, her hand rose to meet it. She began a rhythm that she knew Clint enjoyed.
Her other hand dipped lower to caress and play with the taut sac of his scrotum. She loved the feel of his skin there, loved to nuzzle and suck at him, but she refused to give up his cock to indulge herself. She was hungry and he was the only thing that could satisfy her.
“Mischa,” he moaned her name but she ignored him. She knew what he wanted. He wanted her to stop, to fuck him, and she would. Just not yet. Right now she wanted to suck and lick and taste, to drown her taste buds in him.
“Mischa.” His voice was rough, demanding. She loved it when he sounded that way. She sucked harder, stroked her hand faster and gave his balls a gentle squeeze.
“Fuck.” His hips lifted from the bed, pumping his cock into her mouth. She felt him fighting to hold off orgasm. She was already close as well. Sucking his cock always made her so hot. She’d had an orgasm several times just by fingering her clit while she sucked him off.
His hands wrapped in her hair and tugged her head up off him. He came up to his knees in front of her and pressed her back onto the bed.
“Your hands are supposed to be bound to the bedposts,” she reminded him.
“Might need to buy something a little stronger if you plan to torture me with that sweet mouth of yours,” he replied.
She smiled. Then he rammed his cock in, filling her pussy with that wide shaft. She cried out lifting her arms to grip his shoulders and wrapping her legs high around his waist. He rode her fast and hard, and she loved it. It was as if Clint finally gave in to the savage need to take, to claim, to possess every inch of her. She loved it when he lost control during sex, when he went wild and got a little rough. It awoke that primal place in her too.
“That pussy feels so fucking good,” he groaned. “Don’t want to stop fucking you.”
“Don’t stop,” she screamed. “Give it to me. Fuck me. Harder. Give me all that cock.”
“You like that cock?”
“Ohhh god,” she groaned. “I’m going to come. Make me come!”
“You want to come?”
“Yes!”
He slid his hand down and pinched her clit. She bucked and screamed, her body exploding into one of the best orgasms of her life. He pressed his thumb down on it and rubbed, keeping her in the throes of orgasm while he continued to fuck her mercilessly.
“Feels so good,” she moaned.
“Fuck yes,” he muttered. “I’m going to come.”
“Yes.”
“Going to fill that pussy.”
“Yes!”
“Here it comes, baby. Here it comes.”
He slammed in deep and cried out as his cock spurted inside her. She held on to him, each blast of semen setting off another tremor through her. Slowly she felt the tension leave his body. His arms relaxed and he lowered to rest on top of her. She slipped her legs down, releasing his back from the tight grip she’d held him in. His cock softened and she shuddered again as they both panted.
Her shoulders shook. He snorted. Their eyes met and they both started laughing. He rolled off her and pulled her over with him so she rested against his chest. There was just no way around it. Once sex ended, sex talk was just funny.
She rose up on her elbow so that she could look into his eyes.
“Happy anniversary, Clint.”
He smiled, brushed her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear before reaching up to kiss her.
“Happy anniversary, Mischa.”
She snuggled back down in his arms and shut her eyes, content. Their marriage wasn’t always perfect. They fought and argued just like any other couple. But when it came down to it, she couldn’t imagine her life without him. He brought out the best in her. And this week… It was a reminder of just how perfect they were together. She was looking forward to a lifetime of anniversaries.