Page 11 of Aching for the Lumbersnack

“So, you’d be my boss? That’s pretty hot.” I quipped.

Delilah laughed. “You’d like that too much, I bet.”

“Nah, never. You bossing me around and telling me what to do?” I shifted on the massage table again, the bulge between my legs growing uncomfortable pressed against the hard surface. “I’d fucking love it.”

My wife’s eyes darkened and narrowed into slits, her telltale sign she had sex on the brain. She worked my shoulders, each touch more intense than the last, her minty lotion working wonders on the stiff, sore muscles.

Like the day we met, her touches still sent me over the edge, seeing stars and shit, and a lot of our sexy times have been right in this exact spot. What could I say? Massages were a huge turn on.

I’d even learned a thing or two about giving one. Delilah was a good teacher, a patient one, and she showed me some of her tricks. I worked a few knots out of her neck as a result and now we shared in the massage duties, giving them to the other. Her muscles ached from giving massages and it was only right I give back to her.

What I most looked forward to in our future was seeing her become a mom. With her kind, patient, gentle demeanor, I knew she’d take care of our kids with only the best intentions in mind.

Speaking of babies, we needed more practice.

I waited patiently until she finished my cock so hard it could snap in half. Finally, I sat up, pulled her into my lap, and lifted her onto my dick, and slid her down slowly, inch by inch.

Delilah was used to it by now, me having buried myself deep inside her as soon as I could after many massage sessions.

But this time was a little different.

This time, I had more of a purpose.

Delilah didn’t know it yet, but that was okay. She would soon.

I wanted to put a baby in her.

And I would not stop until I was successful.

THE END