As I walked up the front steps of our townhouse, my mind wandered to my wife, to whom I had been married almost two months. We had avoided sex before getting married, but had some very erotic make-out sessions that will stay with me forever.

For a while at the beginning of our marriage, it got even hotter. Once we were married, limits were removed. We explored each other's bodies with fervor.

The novelty of touching and pleasuring each other was intoxicating. We slept nude together every night, not ever turning down the sexual advances of the other.

She had never had a penis of her own to play with before, and like anyone who discovers the joy of a penis, she had a hard time keeping her hands off it. I didn't mind. Her breasts were like that for me. Her clit, too.

My thoughts were on her tight young body as I approached the front entrance, with a slight hardness growing in my groin, thinking of the various parts of her I had put in my mouth, knowing she was somewhere on the other side of that door.

I turned the knob and, once the door opened, saw her standing there, just inside, with company.

I greeted our friends warmly, though I wasn't excited to see them at that moment. I knew that she hadn't expected visitors either, because I could see her light blouse tracing the outline of her breasts unblemished by a bra.

This realization increased both my frustration with our friends, and the hardness in my groin. "They just came back from their trip and stopped by to pick up their key," my wife informed me. "We thought it would be nice to have dinner and drinks while we catch up."

I said it sounded fun, though I had hoped for a different kind of fun and really wanted to eat out, if you know what I mean. "Do you want to go upstairs and change?" she asked.

I nodded and began ascending the staircase, hearing my wife instruct them to grab a drink and make themselves comfortable before she followed me up. Entering the room behind me, she closed the door. I heard the lock click.

Thinking this unnecessary, I turned to see what was up. Her body slammed into mine, pressing hard as our lips met in a kiss full of lust and passion. The butterflies that tingled my spine from the kiss exploded as her fingers brushed past the tip of my penis.

She was undoing the button on my pants, and as she slid the zipper down, my erection came so hard and fast I thought my dick would pop. Kissing me passionately, she began stroking slowly and lightly at first.

As clear, slick fluid leaked out of me, she built speed and pressure, causing the liquid to squelch with every stroke, stroking down, up, squelch, and pleasure. As I enjoyed this, an image of her breasts flashed through my head.

She had small, perky breasts that rest on her chest in what I consider the perfect shape. Her nipples are usually inverted and flush with the radius of skin. I recall their lack of broad, unbuttoned shirt, exposing my favorite pair of tits.

I reached up and gave each one a squeeze, noticing her nipples were already hard. I brushed my palm gently over each one in turn, coaxing out of her moans of excitement. Down, up, squelch, pleasure.

With growing lust, her kiss became more intense, her mouth pressing hard to mine, tongue flitted out, caressing my lips. If she wasn't wearing pants, I suspected she would be dripping. I fought the urge to tear her pants off.

Her strokes became more focused, hands sliding up and down, pulling the pleasure from within until I was overcome and my knees buckled slightly. At this, she backed away and led me, by the cock, over to the bench at the foot of our bed.

She pushed me to sit, and as she kneeled on the floor in front of me, let her shirt slide off her shoulders to the floor. I love the way her breasts ripple as she moves. She leaned forward for a kiss.

One of her wrecked nipples brushed my glands. The butterflies were back, and she noticed. Grinning, she ran first one nipple, then the other, back and forth in circles over my hard dick.

Next, she grabbed my shaft with both hands and put the head inside her mouth. She flicked her tongue over and around, sucking gently. Holy crap, this felt good. I was in heaven. Removing her mouth, she sat back on her heels and resumed stroking, now with both hands.

Her gaze focused on the action. Her hands ran down to the base, the lower hand caressing my balls, then back up to the tip, where the top hand gave a slouching twist. Waves of erotic bliss pulsed through my body, over and over, up, down, twist, pleasure.

My eyes wandered to her legs, and I traced their shape through her tight pants, up to the mound of her labia. The thought of putting my mouth there brought back the butterflies. I brought my gaze up past her bare, flat stomach, then continued up to those perfect breasts, lingering to watch them jiggle with every stroke.

I could watch them move like that all day, forever. She lifted her eyes long enough to catch mine and flashed a coy smile. She was really enjoying this. So was I. Then, she brought her attention back to where her hands worked my shaft. Fuck, she's cute.

The mischievous, lustful look in her big eyes, the gorgeous smile, those perfect breasts, flesh, bouncing nipples, poking, all worked to heighten my arousal, bringing me closer to her goal. Then, the reason for her focus dawned on me.

She was eagerly anticipating me coming, and didn't want to miss the moment, basking in the power she possessed to bring me ecstasy, knowing that she was in control of my release. That last thought did it.

As the first spurt of semen left me, she let out a little gasp. Each subsequent spurt was coupled with her sounds of delight. She loved to watch me come. From the first time she made it happen, she liked the physical expression of my climax.

She watched my eyes roll back, mouth open with pleasure. It was a good orgasm. One of the best in her fifteen years since. "I thought you might like that," she said once I finished. Then stood up and slid onto my lap, arms wrapping around my neck, as if to confirm my earlier suspicion.

She whispered, "You have made me so wet." And we kissed. I slid my hand down her pants and sank it into her warm, slick panties. I put my middle finger between her labia and slid through her moist slit back and forth, spreading wetness all around, squeezing her lips between my fingers. Withdrawing, I purposely brushed her slit and traced a quick circle, making her breath catch.

Then she groaned with frustration aimed toward our unexpected guests. "Let's go feed these people and then get them out of here," she said as she put her shirt back on, this time with a bra. "You helped make this wet mess, and after they leave I expect you to clean it up, slowly, with your tongue."

Then I want you to put that hard dick into my pussy. I want to feel you come inside me. She walked out to prepare dinner, leaving me to deal with the new erection that I was trying to stretch my pants over. Even though I had just come, I was ready for more.

I was ready to please her, make her moan, give her what I had just received. She was really horny if she was using words like "dick" and "pussy," and that thought kept me from being able to button my pants.

Each time my erection would begin to subside, her voice, saying the word "pussy," would flash through my imagination and it would jump back to attention. It took me a couple of minutes before I could emerge and join our company. And eventually, they left.