THIRTY-SIX | Ride Me | Tinsley
THIRTY-SIX
Ride Me
Tinsley
M itt was serious. Holy shit.
“I—” Mitt ended my argument with his hands squeezing my hips.
“No more disagreement. I want you to ride me bare, Wife.”
Lust had taken over my husband, and he wasn’t in his right mind. He was in over his head, but I knew I wanted a baby. I had for so long, and here was my opportunity. The moment was now, but I was exhausted.
Fuck me.
“I don’t know if I can, Mitt, I’m tired.” I shook my head weakly, and my entire body trembled from the aftershock of my release.
“Yes, you can. I know you can, and I’m going to help you,” Mitt reassured me as he stared back into my eyes and his breath fanned my face. “I’m going to ease you into it.”
“How?” I questioned with uncertainty.
“Grab the back of my seat, angel. Go on. Do it.”
I did. My hands clenched either side of the leather seat, my nails bit in and my elbows rested on his shoulders. Mitt kissed my nose, and he called me his good girl. His praise made me quiver with a new round of desire, and my belly ached again.
“Now what?” I whispered.
Mitt grinned with such wickedness I almost stopped breathing. He was fucking gorgeous, with his hair disheveled and his eyes full of lust. I was the luckiest bitch on the face of the planet to have a grumpy stud as complicated as him, but I wouldn’t have my husband any other way.
Mitt ran his hands down my hips and dug his fingers into my ass cheeks.
“Hang on to the fucking seat, Wife, and ride me,” Mitt answered as he hoisted me up and tugged my panties to the side.
My husband’s cock plunged right inside of my slick pussy. Slowly, he inched his way into me, and my walls welcomed him. A moan escaped my parted lips, and the massive size of Mitt made me clench the seat tighter. Once he hit the hilt of me, he pulled me up and off his dick. This time, he slammed me right down onto him, skin smacked and a gasp of pleasure flung out of my mouth.
“Fuck!” I cried out as I let him rotate my hips in a circular motion, and his cock hit all the right spots.
Mitt stirred my pot, and the fiery pit in my belly bubbled out of control.
“Do you like that, angel?” Mitt asked me.
My husband’s breath was against my ear.
“Yes,” I answered in a whimpering whisper, repeating with each rotation.
“Good,” Mitt grunted as he switched up the movement and made me rock. “How about this?”
I helped him by rocking back and forth against his stiff dick, “Oh, yes, Mitt, yes. I love that.”
“You do?” Mitt questioned as he licked my earlobe and bit at the sensitive flesh. “I do too. I can’t fucking get enough of you.”
I rocked faster. My movements grew out of control, and Mitt trailed his nails along my skin. The slight sting was barely there but made me even more wild than I had been before. The car rocked with my motion, and my breathing became frantic. Over and over, I rocked on his cock, my clit enjoying the friction I had caused. The sensations zapped everywhere inside of me as I no longer leaned into Mitt, but sat straight up and stared down at him.
I was in control.
“Oh, fuck, Mitt!” I cried out.
My tits jolted in his face as I bounced in his lap. Up and down, I took his cock, plummeting his erection straight into the hilt of me on repeat. A new energy rushed through me, and I was no longer weak while I clung to the back of his seat.
“Yes. Angel. Take my cock deep into your tight pussy,” Mitt groaned as his hands roamed up the front of me, and he groped my tits. “Jesus. I fucking love the sight of you riding my dick with these perky titties bouncing.”
I couldn’t stop. I bounced faster, harder down onto Mitt. His hard cock came into me at full speed, and I was bound to get into trouble. I was in too deep, lost in the moment with my husband, and my heart pounded erratically against my ribcage.
“Oh, fuck, I’m going to come! I’m going to come!” I shouted out.
“Come so I can fill you up,” Mitt urged in a husky tone, his balls busting at the seams.
Mitt’s permission was music to my ears as the melody exploded and the sounds coming out of me were unrecognizable. Repeatedly, my plump ass hit the horn as I rode out my climax. The noise was drowned out by the blood pumping uncontrollably through my veins. But Mitt watched me through hooded hazel eyes of passion and let me embrace my release.
“Mitt!” I cried out his name with one last whimper.
“Such. A. Good. Slut.” Mitt grunted each word with a thrust.
Mitt took over. He pushed up into me. Over and over.
“Ah, shit...” I whimpered, unable to hold back as my eyes rolled, but he grabbed my chin and forced my head down.
“Look what you fucking do to me, Wife,” Mitt roared, his voice deep and husky with passion. “You are slick, so damn tight, and my heaven on earth.”
I watched his veiny, bulging cock slip in and out of me. He made my head dizzy, and it was a good thing he held me or else I’d collapse. Mitt Morgan was rocking my world, and I was ruling him.
I was Mitt’s goddamn angel who wore a crown.
“Yes, Mitt...” I whimpered, my head against his cheek. “And you are my everything.”
I did Mitt in.
A long, drawn-out groan rumbled through Mitt’s chest as he roared out. He couldn’t hold back. My words were his undoing, and he gave into his release. Completely, undeniably, Mitt gave up his power to me. He gave me everything he had and pumped endlessly until there was nothing left. No one but us. I was his, and he was mine, entangled together as we breathed heavily. He wrapped me up with him, never to let me escape, and I wouldn’t ever let my husband go because I was in love with him. Forever. Until the day I died.