My arousal flares at her filthy
words, and in seconds I have her bent over the worktable, and her skirt flipped up over her back.
I playfully slap one full, round cheek, then tug her candy-cane-printed panties to the side. Sliding one finger into her slick heat, I blithely use my free hand to remove one of the toys from the box. She pushes back against my finger, her body demanding an in-and-out motion.
“Not just yet,” I scold her.
After examining the toy, I gently run the smooth, metallic tip through her wetness.
Clara gasps. “Is that…?”
“You said you would be a good girl. But you got jealous, and now you have to be punished.”
She moans, turning to look at me over her shoulder. “You’re the one who was flirting,” she seethes. “You can’t turn the tables on me.”
Slowly, I lean over her and whisper into her hair. “But I can keep you turned over this table until I’m finished.”
I love these games we play. But I’ve had enough of these panties, and I rip them to shreds with satisfaction. Massaging Clara’s cheeks, I spread her wide. The toy, glistening with her essence, slips inside her quickly. I watch my queen for any discomfort.
“Oh god,” she breathes.
“Tell me if it hurts. We’ve not done this before, and I want to make sure—“
“It’s good. Oh my god, it’s so fucking good. I need you, too. I need you right now.”
My cock slides right into her heat, and the feeling of home and all good things floods my soul. Her snug little cunt was built for me. I reach around to tease her clit while I push in.
“Product review?”
With one thrust, she gasps and then exhales. “Good. Comfortable. Oh god. So full. So fucking full with your cock at the same time… it’s….”
Another thrust. “And your overall rating?”
Clara looks back and me and bites her lip. “Five stars.”
Thrust. “And?”
She moans and manages to say, “Would use again.”
Thrust. “Anything else?”
“Would recommend. Oh my god, El!” My fingers command her sweet, tight little clit to rocket my queen into oblivion. Her orgasm rattles the windows of the workshop, and my own release, I fear, might blow the doors off.
They’ll hear us outside!” she hisses.
True. It’s not like the little hovel in the woods, where no one was around.
I really should learn to be quieter. On the other hand, it’s fucking Santa Claus, bitch. I may be a benevolent ruler, but I’ll fuck my queen as loudly as I want.
I wouldn’t want to live any other way.
We have a literal village looking after our children. We would be happy in the hovel in the woods, but we wouldn’t have any sort of community. And the old Nick would still be in charge.
This life is tons of responsibility. Parenting, on top of it, is madness.
I flip my wife over and lay with her on my chest, right on top of the worktable where the Fisher-Price toys are made.
The two of us cling to each other, still trembling through the aftershocks of our releases. “Did you have a good Christmas, El?”