1. The Incubus' Wife: Pleasured At Dinner


    Date: 5/29/2017, Categories: Fiction, Anal, Authoritarian, BDSM, Wife, Young, Author: Liv Beornwulf, Rating: 80, Source: sexstories.com

    getting aroused, I feel so starved and deprived of sex that by the minute that Mason is already knocking his dick inside me, I am genuinely weary and sick and tired with everything. Maybe I am suffering some form of sexual break down. I don’t know really. What matters most is that I nourish him with his meal for now until his hungriness gets quenched and satisfied. We are still inside the dining room; slumped and sprawled down on grassy green carpet that is fanned out and stretched all across the entire floor. I have got my bra and blouse flung away a bit far from where I am lying. Underneath there, I am just putting on a skirt and some pink-colored panties that are stained and dripping freely with Mason’s cum. My breasts are nude-stripped and uncovered to the cold air breezing its way inside the room. It has been twenty minutes now since Mason and I began kissing and spanking each other. Is he fully satisfied? I can’t exactly tell. I look at him. He is lolling down here besides me, still dressed up in his pitch-black working suit. His penis is calmed now and gradually shrinking back to its original greatness. It is still pulled out of his slacks and underwear, noiselessly falling back into slumber as it scatters out an outpouring or two of dense white semen. How come he and his dick are both handsome? I grin at him lovingly. He smirks back at me, happy and pleased with himself. “Are you content now?” I ask him serenely. He can’t quit smiling at me. “Beyond what I was even ...
    expecting, Emma! I am ashamed and sorry that I didn’t make you hit an orgasm. But we still do have loads of time to finish this business up in our bed. I am going to make all your sexual dreams and fantasies become a reality there. Do you understand me, my sweetest love?” I switch my hand to his face and slickly caress his skin and facial stubble. He is so good-looking; I cannot believe that I married him. Did I really? He is the most beautiful and intelligent thing that has ever come to happen in my life. “I want a baby with you, Mason, my darling,” I say self-possessedly. I have wrecked his mood already. I don’t get it. Is what I said that upsetting and unpleasant? I am taking observation of every little happening as his face changes from blissful to miserable—from a glad whitish to a heartbroken and dismal scarlet. Oh, oh! It seems I am in big trouble for asking him to fill me with his child. “Mason, are you alright?” I query with swelling anxiety and fear. I just want to have a baby with him. Nothing more and nothing less! Well, if this doesn’t seem like a cleverly brilliant idea to him, he should let me know so that I know what else to do. “You have petitioned for too much than I can offer you, Emma,” he declares with a provoked and afraid face. I cannot expressly pinpoint it. It seems that he is seriously scared of something; something which he is concealing and keeping out of sight from my learning. I become desirous to know what it precisely is. “What do you mean by ...
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