Five Years Later - Mail Order Brides For Christmas
Jenna and Matt’s Story
I’m backstage in my dressing room at Moose Tracks. Well, it isn’t much of a dressing room to be honest. It’s more like a large closet that the owner converted into a dressing room because I told him I was no longer going to show up to sing unless he gave me some private space of my own.
But everything’s worked out well because the closet is actually large enough to fit a vanity table, a mirror, a couch on one side, and even a small cot in case I get tired. After all, I headline at Moose Tracks on Tuesdays and Fridays now and am something of a local celebrity in little Snow Valley.
To be sure, this isn’t how I envisioned life back when I was nineteen. I thought I’d be a global superstar and travel the world to fans screaming my name in Tokyo, Stockholm, and Sydney. But instead, I’ve settled into an idyllic life with my handsome husband, Matt, and our daughters Joy, Faith and Charity. Matt never thought he’d be a father to three little girls, but he’s taken to it like a duck to water. My gorgeous man gets home at six p.m. every day and immediately pitches in to help with dinner, baths, playtime, and ugh, even homework. Poor little Joy. I detested homework when I was a child, but my daughter seems to enjoy it. Or maybe it’s her brainy dad helping her along, and teaching her how to love that which I was never good at.
I smile. Matt’s been so good through all of this. He’s never complained about me pursuing my career, and even supports me by taking on babysitting duties the nights that I perform. However, Matt’s in the audience tonight because I’m debuting a new song: The One I’m With. It’s a ballad and I’m really looking forward to belting out the notes while looking straight into his deep blue eyes.
Suddenly, a knock interrupts my thoughts.
“Come in!” I call. I fluff my hair in the mirror, looking at my reflection with a smile. I’ve still got it after all these years and the pink halter top emphasizes my big bust while the tiny leopard-print mini-skirt shows off my long legs. Sure, I’ve put on a bit of weight with the pregnancies, but overall, it’s not bad for a mom of three.
To my surprise, my handsome husband enters, his large form dark and huge. He’s so big, in fact, that he takes up most of the space in my dressing room, his black head almost touching the ceiling.
“Hey Mr. Mistletoe,” I giggle. “This is unexpected.”
His blue eyes flare as they roam up and down my scantily-clad body.
“Well good, because I like being unexpected. A little surprise is good for a marriage.”
I giggle again while leaning in for a kiss. He seizes my mouth possessively and I moan a bit before backing away.
“Yes, but we’re always doing it,” I murmur. “Anytime the girls are asleep, you have me on my hands and knees.”
“I do,” he says, those blue eyes flaring possessively. “But now, I’ve got you all to myself again without the prospect of accidentally waking the girls up.”
I laugh. “If only you didn’t shout when you come!”
He merely pulls me in closer, leaning in for another devastating kiss.
“But you make me come so hard,” he mutters into my mouth. “And I like hearing you scream. Especially when it’s my name.”
With that, I giggle again, but Matt’s got sex on his mind and nothing’s going to stop him. He pulls my halter down, popping my big breasts out and they sway pendulously, the nipples already hard. He latches onto one, pulling hard and then swallows before looking up at me.
“There’s still a bit of breast milk.”
I open my eyes, already beginning to moisten for him.
“What?” I ask, looking down. Indeed, the tips of my breasts are gleaming, evidence of my breastfeeding. “Yes, Charity and Faith are still nursing. And their dad nurses too, after they’re done.”
It’s a special secret that Matt and I share. I don’t nurse him much, but he enjoys taking a few swallows every now and then, and it feels really good. Having a man suckle at your breast is completely different from having a baby there, and hot wetness seeps between my thighs in anticipation.
Reading my mind, Matt’s blue eyes flare and he drops to his knees before me before unzipping the leopard skirt and pulling it down so that I can step out.
“No panties, honey?” he asks, his black brows going up. “I’d say that’s daring, seeing that you’re going to be on stage.”
But before I can answer, he’s leaning forward to lick my slit, pulling my clit into his mouth and suckling hard. Hot jolts run through my pussy and I cry out, reaching in back of me to grab onto the dressing table.
“Oooooh!” I moan, throwing my head back. “Oh god, that feels good!”
But Matt knows what he wants. Slowly, he unties my halter so that I’m completely nude, wearing only my pink stilettos.
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he breathes before leaning up to tongue my nipples again. Then, with practiced ease, he sucks on them, teasing them and making me squirm until my flow starts once more. The white milk courses from my breasts, streaming over my tummy before gushing down to seep into the folds between my legs.
“There you go,” my man croons, “Show Daddy what you have.”
I know what Matt wants. Slowly, I edge backwards onto the dressing room table and then pull my knees up so that my slit’s bare and open for him. I snake one hand down and pull my folds open, showing him my clit which gleams big and hard under the vanity lights.
“This is all for you, Daddy,” I breathe. “Put it in when you’re ready.”
Matt doesn’t need to hear more. In an instant that huge rod is out and plunging into my tiny opening. I’m literally skewered on it, crying out from the huge club in my depths, unable to move.
“Oh gaaaawwd!” I scream with delirium. “Shit!”
Matt merely kisses me again as white milk pulses from my breasts, coursing down until it covers where we’re joined. Dirty sucking sounds ring out and I tremble deliciously. His eyes flare with heat.
“I know you like it like this,” he breathes. “You’re my dirty little girl.”
Sure enough, my pussy moistens even more and soon he’s pumping away in my depths. “Shit you’re so tight,” my man murmurs. “Even after three babies, you still feel like a virgin.”
Of course, I don’t mention that I wasn’t a virgin when we met, but that’s okay. Instead, I smile coyly at him as he pounds me full, my breasts bobbling with each hard thrust. Then I pull back, his member slipping out. The veins beat hard on his cock because he’s so aroused, but he waits while I slip off the desk and turn around, baring my butt to him.
“Daddy, you want some of this?” I ask, pulling my cheeks apart. Matt doesn’t move for a moment, merely staring at the tight pink drum of my anus. But then he reaches between my legs, coating his fingers in the fluid there and brings them up to trace over my ridged pleats. I moan breathily, pressing my cheek against the hard table.
“Yessss,” I murmur. “Oh yes.”
With that, Matt lines himself up at my back door and slowly presses against that hard little knot.
“Mmm!” I squeal, my eyes squeezed shut. “Oh god!”
“Easy,” he moans, continuing to push. “Just relax, baby girl.”
Soon, with a deep squelching sound, my anal ring pops open and he’s able to slide deep inside.
“Shit,” he curses. “Took me in your butt in one long stroke. What a little butt slut I have on my hands.”
I can’t even reply because of the enormous meat in my behind. Instead, I merely curl my hands into fists, enjoying the massive length skewering my ass.
“Yessss,” I hiss as he begins to slide in and out. It’s so wrong. We were matched together through chance, with Holly Huckleberry pairing us together on little but a whim. But now, I take this man’s massive cock in me any time he wants, welcoming him into each and every hole. It feels so good to be stretched, and I don’t let anyone do it but Matt Mistletoe.
My man can feel my building passion, and his strokes begin to grow frantic, my ass cheeks shaking with each deep thrust.
“Fuck,” he moans. “Oh fuck … fuck … FUCK!”
With that, the alpha male explodes into my behind, spraying my anal canal with hot lashes of virile seed. I lift my head for a moment as electricity jolts through my ass, and then my pussy and asshole convulse in unison, orgasm ripping through my frame.
“Matt!” I scream. “Oh god, yes!”
With that, my husband and I enjoy each other once again, his seed spraying my insides as I milk his balls dry. When it’s all over, I’m a panting, heaving mess. My breasts are coated with milk and my pussy and ass are layered in a mix of virile semen, pussy juices, and cakey breastmilk.
“I have to go on stage in two minutes!” I squeal in panic. “Oh my god!”
But my husband’s unfazed. Instead, with deft fingers, he re-ties my halter top around my neck and helps me back into my miniskirt before giving me a fond pat on the butt.
“I know,” he grins. “I love knowing that you’re going to sing with my semen dripping from your ass. It’s going to be great.”
I gasp with shock but then giggle merrily.
“Especially because my new ballad has your name all over it,” I tease. “It’s called The One I’m With.”
My husband’s eyes darken as he leans over to kiss me again passionately.
“Good, sweetheart, because you’re the one I’m with … forever, Jenna.”
And with that, our circle of love is complete.
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