Brittany can't keep her hands off Sam's dick. It's really sensitive right now, but that's not why he needs her to stop—he needs her to stop because if she continues much longer he's going to get hard again, and if he gets hard again now, he's probably going to end up taking her right there on the couch without even bothering to undress. And that wouldn't be bad at all, except he promised he'd strip for her.
He gently takes her hands and holds them. "Do you still want that strip show?"
"Totally!" she says, letting go and sitting back so he can stand up.
Sam fixes his clothes and moves the coffee table out of the way while Brittany puts some music on. The song that's playing—Sam doesn't actually know it's name, but they played it at the strip club a lot. He even remembers the routine he did to it.
But he doesn't want to do the same routine for his wife that he did for anonymous customers, so he makes it up as he goes along, grinding his hips in time to the music. He dances toward her while loosening his tie, and when he's right in front of her he removes it and drapes it around her neck.
"Take it all off!" Brittany yells.
He swings his suit jacket around over his head and whips it across the room. While he's unbuttoning his shirt he turns around slowly and shakes his butt at her teasingly. She shrieks and pinches it—a huge no-no if she were a paying customer, but as his wife she can pinch him as much as she wants.
With his shirt open he moves even closer, one leg on either side of her knees. He gives her some of his patented White Chocolate body rolls, letting the shirt slip off his shoulders. She reaches for his chest, gliding her hands across his pecs and down over his abs. They slide back up and tweak his nipples. He'd love to do the same to her but she's still in her wedding dress, looking very proper, in fact, with her dress demurely covering her knees. No one would ever guess that underneath it she was wearing hooker stockings and no underwear, that her cunt was probably still soaking wet.
Sam always felt like a whore stripping at the club, and he kind of feels like that now too, but not in the degrading, real-life way—in more of a sexy, fantasy way. He starts to get hard, and when Brittany notices and gropes him through his pants he gets much harder much quicker. As he removes his belt and undoes his pants he's not really dancing so much as dry humping the air an inch above his wife's lap.
Brittany pushes the pants down over his hips, but he has to back up to take them off. He pulls his socks off at the same time, because an outfit of mesh briefs and black socks would probably look way more dorky than hot. He puts his hands behind his head and circles his hips, and Brittany stares with a kind of awe. He turns to show her his mesh-encased ass, and he doesn't stop dancing even when he feels her kneeling behind him and sliding her hands up under the briefs. He doesn't stop dancing until her hands move around to the front and start stroking his cock. "Oh fuck, Britt."
"Are you gonna take it all off, or what?"
He does, he pulls down his one remaining article of clothing. Brittany doesn't let go of his dick until he bends forward to push the underwear down to his ankles. That's when she grabs his butt cheeks, pulls them apart, and licks in between them. "Oh! Oh Jesus, Brittany!" This is not something Sam has ever even contemplated having done to him, but it's kind of awesome.
She stops all too soon, but it's to turn him around and suck on his cock, which is not something he's going to complain about. She sucks and sucks, playing with his nuts and his ass the whole time, until he's almost ready to burst. And then she stops abruptly.
"Britt?"
"I don't want you to come in my mouth again."
"Sorry," he says, confused. She didn't seem to mind at the time. "I didn't know you don't like that."
"I love it. But I want you to fill my pussy with your come. I want you to get me pregnant so we can have star babies together."
"Yeah?" The idea actually turns him on way more than he would have expected. But... "You think we're ready to be parents?"
"Of course, silly. Everyone's happy all the time in heaven. That means babies never cry. And no poopy diapers, cause that would make me unhappy."
Oh yeah. Of course. Sam thinks for a minute about filling her with his seed, about how sexy (and horny, from what he hears) she'll be when her belly is swelling with his child, and how beautiful their non-crying, non-pooping baby will be. When she stands up and looks at him with her gorgeous blue eyes, which their kid will probably inherit, he knows this is exactly what he wants.
He wordlessly picks her up and carries her to her bedroom—their bedroom, that is. Standing next to her bed they kiss as Sam unzips her dress. She slips it off her shoulders and lets it fall down around her. She's wearing a lacy white bra—it probably matches the panties that they left downstairs—which Sam quickly unclasps and removes.
Brittany starts to pull her tights off, but Sam tells her, "No, leave the hooker stockings on," and she does. He cups her breasts and plays with her nipples; he knows she likes this, and sure enough she's moaning soon and rubbing against his leg.
"Lay down," she tells him, and he complies immediately. She climbs on, straddling his thighs, and playing with his cock. It really is gorgeous—and so big. She should really ask him to finger her a little first, but...but that would mean waiting longer for what she really wants. She decides to just go for it. But not without just one more quick taste first.
"Oh god!"
"Sorry," Brittany says. She moves up to share a kiss with him and then adds, "It's so delicious I just can't help it."
"It wasn't a complaint," Sam says.
She kisses his neck...and his ear...and whispers to him, "Are you ready to make love to me, Mr. Pierce?"
"I'm ready, Mrs. Pierce. Are you?" He reaches between her legs and feels her wetness. Brittany can't help but rub herself against his fingers. "You feel ready."
She scoots back down to line herself up and watches Sam lick her juices off his fingers. She hovers over his cock, takes it, and guides it into herself slowly. Her walls have to stretch—she actually feels them stretch to accommodate his girth.
"Fuck," Sam gasps. "Fuck, Britt, you're so tight."
"I'm not really," she says honestly. She has great muscle control and can make herself feel tight, but she's only about average in terms of actual tightness when at rest. And right now she's trying extra hard to let those muscles rest. "It's just that you're so huge."
"Are you okay?"
"Are you kidding? I love it. I just have to go slow at first to get used to it."
Sam doesn't mind her going slow at first. That is, he does have to fight the urge to just fuck up into her as fast as he can, but entering his wife for the first time feels so incredible, he wants to really enjoy it, savor it for as long as he can. He wants to really take it all in, so he'll have an amazing memory of his last few days when he's in Mayan heaven.
Brittany lowers herself a little at a time on her husband's cock. It really does feel like it's her first time—except that this time she knows it's going to be the best fuck of her life; her actual first time she didn't even know if she'd like it at all. As she sinks down the last inch she lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. She's seriously never felt this full. Sam is in her so deep, it's like they're one person.
She holds perfectly still, and Sam does too, but it's so tight that she can still feel every tiny movement of his dick—she can actually feel the blood rushing through it. She can feel how much it's aching for some movement.
And it's true, Sam is aching for movement. But it's the most awesome ache he's ever felt. Brittany is so tight (even if she says she isn't), and she looks so hot sitting on top of him like she is, with that look of deep concentration on her face.
Eventually Brittany starts to move—slowly at first, raising and gently lowering herself again on her husband's cock. But she can't stay slow for long because it's so good, so good. She quickens her pace, and soon she's slamming herself down hard, over and over, grinding on Sam each time she's got his full length inside her.
Jesus Christ, she's good. Her cunt is wrapped around his dick so tight that even the slightest friction drives him nearly out of his mind. And the friction is anything but slight as she bounces wildly—it's the most amazing thing ever.
Brittany grabs her own tits and plays with her nipples, and she looks like she's going to come any second. Sam fingers her clit and she immediately unravels.
She cries out as euphoria floods through her. She can't even think, and all her movements are purely instinctual: the way she squeezes Sam's hips between her knees, the way she squeezes his cock inside her pussy, the way she lurches forward...even the way she sucks on his neck as her hips continue to gyrate, yanking his dick this way and that.
Brittany coming on his cock feels so good, Sam has to muster all his willpower not to come at the same time. He'd just go ahead and come, but he's pretty sure that if he waits, he'll be able to get her to come again. And he loves making his wife come.
He's pretty sure she can come again...if her first orgasm ever actually stops, that is. It goes on so long. He's going to have a huge bruise on his neck where she's sucking, but that feels good too, so he doesn't mind at all.
When she unsuctions her mouth from him, when her wild bouncing slows to gentle rocking and then stops altogether, when she lies totally limp on top of him, Sam figures orgasm number one has passed. "How are you doing?" he asks.
She replies with incoherent babbling.
"Can I keep going?"
She lifts her head when she realizes Sam just asked her a question; it takes her a few seconds to process what the question was. "Yeah, of course. In just a minute..." She slides off his cock and crawls backwards toward the foot of the bed, stopping when her face is at crotch level.
Sam hopes she's about to do what he thinks she's about to do. And she does! She glides her tongue and her lips all over his cock, slurping up her own juices. "So good," she mumbles, more to herself than to Sam. She starts to suck. It's awesome, and Sam is really tempted to let himself blow in her mouth again. But he gently pulls her head up and reminds her, "We won't make any star babies this way."
"Right," she says, climbing back onto his dick.
She no sooner starts rocking back and forth than Sam flips them both over in one motion. She's on her back now, legs wrapped around his waist, and he's got much better leverage for pumping into her. "I've wanted to fuck you for so long," he says.
"Yeah?" Brittany says. "Well I've wanted you to too. I've wanted you to give it to me hard."
"God, Britt."
Sam keeps fucking harder and faster until it feels like there's a jackhammer in her. She fucking loves it. She feels another orgasm building and grabs hold of the mattress to brace herself for it. This time she wants Sam to come with her, and she says, "Give me your come, baby. Knock me up."
Sam and Brittany let go at the same moment. Sam roars as he plunges in one last time and unloads deep insider her, her clenching walls milking him dry. Brittany screams and bucks under him. She grabs his ass and tries to pull him farther and farther in.
She keeps coming for a lot longer than he does. By the time she's done, Sam's cock is really, really sensitive and has had all it can take for a while.
As has Sam himself; he's exhausted and totally drained. Brittany too, apparently—she seems to have dozed off already. Sam's too tired to even pull out and, besides, he doesn't want to let all the baby juice spill out of her.
He's just going to close his eyes and rest for a few minutes. And then when he wakes up, if Brittany's still asleep he's going to fuck her awake and shoot her full of another load. And another and another and another as he takes her on the floor and bent over her desk and in the shower...
And he falls asleep with a big smile on his face, happy that his and his wife's last three days on earth are going to be the best three days anyone ever had.