Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
“But Daddy, I want to sit on the whole thing. Please.”
“No.”
Yes. God yes.
“Just a little more,” she cajoles, sliding her knees open wider on the pew. “Nothing makes me feel closer to the lord than your great flood. Give it to me.”
“Oh God,” I moan when she scoops her hips and squeezes me in to the hilt, leaving me in danger of spilling prematurely. “Don’t move!”
Too late. She’s riding me like she wants to make me blow, bucking and bouncing in turn, her sweet ass slapping off my upper thighs, her mewling sounds going to my head like the finest wine. I can’t even allow myself to look at her jiggling tits or I’ll probably launch her ten yards from the force of my climax. All I can do is clutch her spread ass cheeks in my hands, drop my head back and feel the push and pull of her cunt, the wet suck and slide of it on my sensitive shaft, my balls preparing to give up the fight. Of course they are. She’s not merely a woman, she’s an experience. A daily resurrection.
The love of a lifetime.
As deeply and profoundly as I love my wife, I know what she likes to hear. What’s going to make her come the fastest and with the most intensity.
“Ride it faster for Daddy,” I say through clenched teeth. “My tight little whore knows just how I like it, doesn’t she?”
A loud sob breaks from her lips.
Her pussy seizes up around me and begins to spasm, but I bring my hand down on her ass nonetheless, the successive slaps resounding through the empty church, her wetness seeping and gathering around the throbbing width of my cock, her body tensing on my lap and shaking violently. But her eyes, they’re locked on me, trusting and brimming with bliss, and that total trust along with the rhythmic squeezes of her sex bring me off with a roar, my hips jerking off the pew to combat the intensity, my frenzied upward pumps verging on beastly, my spurts releasing in heavy loads deep in her recesses, one after another, hollowing out my stomach and piercing my vision with light.
“Oh God, oh God, thank you for making her so sweet and tight,” I grind out, unable to stop coming, and she loves that, too, her hips ticking up and back, her fingers playing with her rosy nipples, encouraging me to unload more than ever, right there in the back of the church. And when I’m finally, finally emptied of tension, I pull my beloved wife down to me, kissing and stroking her the way she needs after sex. The care I love giving to her. Crave giving her. I take her mouth in a slow, thorough kiss, looking her in her eyes while stroking her wild, red hair back from her flushed face. “Sometimes, when I’m preaching at the pulpit and I see a skeptic in the crowd, I want to tell them, if you question the existence of God, look no further than my wife. She’s proof enough.”
Her face softens even more. “I would say the same about my husband.” She kisses my chin. “Who I love more than anything.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.” I wrap my arms around her. “You didn’t just steal chocolate in the market that day. You stole my heart and soul.”
She presses our foreheads together, our bodies beginning to heat again, her thighs restless on the pew. “And I’m keeping it,” she whispers. “Forever.”
I lick a pathway up the front of her throat. “Halleluiah.”
THE END