AN EROTIC STORY HOSTED BY IMPREGNORIUM.NET

I knew what he wanted.

He knew the same, he was my husband after all.

'Are you ready?' he asked.

'Are we ready?' I responded.

He simply smiled.

I could load this tale with plenty of preamble here. Sighing over a long, hard day at work, breathless exhaustion, pent up tension, a desire for change and child, etc. This, however, is my story and I'll tell it my way. I am no unrealisticly beautiful Venus emerging from the waters, nor are my breasts likely to require special hardware. (DD+ breasts are so common in these stories,
it makes you wonder a little). I'm pretty average in most respects. I'm no aerobics instructor, but I keep trim, and I don't think twice about a bowl of Haagen-Daas either. I am a little vain about my long black hair (really dark black thank you). I have a warm complexion and a rich lilt
to my voice. With the right words, at the right time, in the right way, well you get the idea.

I love my husband. Ours is a collegiate romance blossomed. Same major, same classes, A smile, some coffee, A touch, hands, forget the coffee, long talk, don't forget the coffee, walk me home, a kiss, and so on. We had each dated before college, but nothing so serious as this. We were both on new ground. Amusingly we were also both as nervous about things as a awkward teenagers. Who ever forgets their first kiss?

And now my hands ran along his firm, muscular back. I drew him atop me and we kissed. Kissed deeply, passionatly,and with abandon. My tongue greeted his, tasting the familiarity of his lips and mouth as I explored him anew. My hands played across his body, gently raking across his back. He arched to my touch, breaking the kiss but holding me in his gaze. Bracing himself with one hand, he
deftly unbuttoned my overlarge blouse with the other. In short order, my breasts greeted him, and I, with a witching, smile pulled him back ontop of me.

It wasn't long, back in those first days, that we began to discover each other's delights. I don't consider myself aggressive in loveplay, certinly not dominant, but enjoy it with abandon all the same. A kiss, and other beginings shed the awkwardness in due corse, and led to familiarity and exploration. We soon found that we were both quite eager in our games. Not lust, but simply and purely having fun. Playing. Kissing, making out, and caressing. Hands roaming, touching, fondling, and finding. We shared the appetite, and were quite a good match.

I remember our first time. Neither of us were unexperienced, but likewise had anyone really appreciated the art for the sake of it. Not until then. We took our time, knowing where this night's encounter would lead. Dinner, then to his room. Alone. Kissing led to touching, his hands caressing my back, mine about his waist. Gently, he unbuttoned my shirt (He still likes it when I leave it on sometimes), and I removed his. Sitting on his bed, and in his lap, his hands fondled my breasts. I ran my hands through his hair, and held him to he as he took my breast in his mouth, purring in delight as his delicate tongue danced its way over them.

As he was now doing. Yes. I wanted it all this night. His tongue worked miracles over my moist flesh. My nailes dug into his back, but he felt little pain. I was his. In heart, mind, soul, and as often as we wished, in body. Down my length, and between my spread legs, his hands and tongue
teased. Into my flesh, his fingers sought to lift me to ecstacy. Stroke after stroke, his fingers danced. Replaced, his tongue lapped at my own fluids. Convulsing in pleasure, I came time and again under the delightful ministrations of his attentions.

Back then, he asked 'Do you want..?' and stopping him abruptly, I smiled, nodding I asked 'Yes?' My hands made their way down his side to his belt and jeans. His to mine, and with some shuffling, we found ourselves before each other in all our glory. Not before unseen, but now with a truly new intention. That first time was slow and delicate. My hands around his penis, now quite erect and impressive, I guided him that first time willingly into me. Slowly and steady, we were locked in such a gaze. Then, knowing I had taken protective measures and was on the pill, we settled into the wonderful sensations of flesh meeting flesh.

There were no such measures tonight. We wanted each other, and we wanted a family now. Lowering him into me, as I had done before, I knew that this night I would recieve all he could give to me. Tonight we would make life. My womb would be planted with his seed, and I would be pregnant when
tomorow came. His hips met mine, and smoothly he nestled into me.

I tried to feel that this was just as before. Same pace, same tempo, etc. It wasn't. I was hot with the excitement of it all. To his credit, if he felt any different he didn't show it. His bold, strong gaze fixed me, his hands held me, and his firmness pinned me to the place. I was so excited this time. He was there. He was within. I was grasping with everything, drawing him in, and tightening around him as best I might. I think I was scared too, but that made it all the more interesting. A rock of steadiness
in my willing body, his thrusts, his head helped to stabilize my wild emotions and soon I was able to
settle in.

And, Oh did I want him!

More and more. That first time so long ago had been a game compared to this. Playing at things, with each other, and no worries. Now it was serious. He thurst deeper into me, I like to think, than ever before. Now his whole weight was brought to bear. My legs wrapped around him, behind his hips and knees. With a last desperate thrust he then held still. His eyes locked to mine for an eternal moment. Pause. Then we were one. Heat, and my back arched. I felt him within me, his sperm, his essence heating me from within us. Words could not better describe. It was a metaphore for which there are no words. I can do it no justice here.

We cooled, collapsed, and slept. The three of us now.