Five Years Later - While He Watches

Whitney 

 

Five years later.

“SugarTime Six’s opening went well, don’t you think?” my handsome husband asks when we get back to the penthouse.

I smile and lean over to shuck off my heels before standing back up and putting my hands on my aching back.  I’m now eight months pregnant and my stomach’s like a watermelon.  This is going to be my fifth child, and yet each baby seems to have its own personality.  At that very moment, Wendy kicks me in the gut and I lean over, gasping.

Immediately, Peter comes over and slings a muscular arm around my waist.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?  Here, let me help you to the master bedroom.”

We stumble down the hallway and to the left before entering the master suite, where I collapse thankfully onto our California King mattress.  Even better, our four children are away right now.  Willow and Wyla are with my parents in New Jersey, while Sarah’s babysitting Wanda and Wisteria.  I would be concerned about any other teenage girl babysitting my twins, but Sarah’s so experienced that I know things are going to be just fine.

Peter shoots me another concerned look.  My husband is so handsome with his black hair and blue eyes, and all four of our girls have his arresting looks.  But right now, he just wants me to feel better.

“Let me run a bath for you,” he rumbles, disappearing into the connected en suite.  “It’ll help soothe your back.”

Sure enough, the sound of water running hits my ears and I close my eyes, going limp for a moment.  Then Peter reappears in the bathroom doorway and tenderly lifts me into his strong arms.  He carries me into the en suite and undresses my swollen form, those big hands running over my distended curves.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers trailing over my ample thighs and big butt.  “Shit baby, these breasts too.  What size are they now?”

I sigh blissfully as he sucks one into his mouth, tingles running straight from my nipple to my cunt.

“I think I’m an H-cup.  I was Double Ds before, but with five pregnancies, I seem to be getting bigger and bigger every year.”

Peter pops off my nipple with a satisfied smirk, and then slowly trails his finger down my belly to my pussy.  He pulls it open and admires the view.

“Shit, I love how your nipples always match your cunt, sweetheart.  It’s the most beautiful raw pink and makes me want to fuck you so much.”

I smile at him.

“Even now, when I’m eight months pregnant?”

“Even more so now,” he whispers hoarsely, looking up at me.  Those blue eyes flare hotly.  “Can I baby?” he asks.  “I want to so bad.  You’re gorgeous when you’re heavy like this and it turns me on knowing you have my child inside.”

I smile, looking into his handsome face while running my fingers through his black hair.

“Yes, but I want it in my ass,” I say coyly.  “Will you do that for me?”

In answer, he leans forward and gently kisses my clit, flicking his tongue against it, before sliding his tongue downwards through my folds until he’s licking my anus.  My pleats contract with pleasure and I sigh breathily.

“Oh yes, mmm,” I moan.  “Just like that.”

My husband pauses and looks up at me, his blue eyes hooded with lust.

“But sweetheart, will taking my cock in your ass hurt the baby?”

I laugh gently.

“Of course not.  You’re in my anal canal after all, not my pussy canal.  There’s no way she’ll slip out by accident.”

My husband knows this, but he just likes to be sure.  Slowly, Peter gets up, unfastening his jeans so that his enormous cock is released.  I gasp, seeing its length and girth, and my asshole contracts reflexively, anticipating the breach. 

But Peter doesn’t pull me onto him right away.  Instead, he reaches for some scented bath gel, and generously spreads a handful over his throbbing shaft.  Then he reaches between my legs and slips his hand over my hole, scooping up a generous helping of pussy nectar before trailing back and spreading it over my anus.

“Just getting you all lubed up,” he rasps hoarsely.  “Fuck, your butt is tight.”

After all, I may have given birth four times, but that hasn’t impacted my anal flexibility.  Just for fun, I clench on his finger, and he moans, feeling the strength of my sphincter. 

“This is going to be fucking amazing,” he groans.

Then, Peter bends me over the sink, nudging my legs apart with his own.  He bends down and kisses my coffee-colored hole before straightening and lining up his dripping shaft with my anus.  Then, the push begins.  I cry out at first, startled at his size.  It always gets me, even though I’ve had my butt stuffed with his cock multiple times now.

“Ooooh!” I squeal.  “Oh god!”

“More lube?” he pants. 

I lean forward to brace my hands on the counter, the cold marble edge pressing against my hips.  My belly’s huge and the sight of my husband overwhelming me from behind is a turn-on.

“Yes, please.”

He chuckles hoarsely and grabs the bath gel again, generously pouring a dollop where our bodies are joined.  Then he begins to press inside me once more and I scream out with combined pain and pleasure.  I feel like my ass is being split in two by his enormous member, and yet I love every moment of it.

Fuuuuck!” I squeal.  “Oh my fucking god!”

“I’ll fuck you,” Peter growls from behind me, his big hands digging into my hips.  “No problem, Whit.  Just let me in.”

With that, there’s an audible popping sound as my butt gives way, and suddenly I have an enormously thick cock all the way in my back passage.  I scream out again even as my asshole contracts, making Peter moan deliriously.

“Fuck.  So good.  So fucking tight,” he grunts as he withdraws, before pushing back into me.  “Let your asshole jerk me off,” he pants.  “Give it to me, Whit.”

With that, the fucking begins in earnest.  He pushes in and out of my asshole as I scream, beg, and yell, demanding more, more, MORE!  And after a few minutes of heated slapping and intense penetration, it happens.  Peter jerks within me, his cock twitching, and hot jets of sperm coat my innards.  Meanwhile, I let out another blood-curling scream while pinching my nipples.

“Oh fuck!” I cry.  “Yes, in my butt!”

And that’s how we finish. My husband drains his balls, groaning, while my ass ring clenches tight on that huge man meat.  He pumps furiously before pulling me to him and pressing a heated kiss to my shoulder.

“Fuck baby, you always feel so good,” he breathes.  “After five children too, and it only seems to get better.  What do you say to a sixth?”

I mewl, leaning back against his muscular hardness, his dick still embedded in my ass.

“Well, given that I prefer anal now, I don’t know how I’ll get pregnant.  Do you have any ideas?”

Peter chuckles.

“Is that a challenge, Whitney?”

With that, I pull forward so that he slips out and then I spin around and hook my arms behind his neck.

“It is,” I whisper against his lips.  “Six children and six outposts of SugarTime sound right, don’t you think?  Six for six?”

My gorgeous husband chuckles and kisses me deeply.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he rasps against my lips.  “But anything you want, sweetheart. Anything at all.”

And with that, the bathtub begins to overflow, and we break apart in giggles and curses.  After all, this is my life with Peter Coleman, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

 

THE END