Page 5 of A Crawford Family Christmas

harrison & birdie

Birdie

We’ve still got at least forty-five minutes before the gates open. And I’ve got a problem. A significant one that’s been plaguing me for the last three months.

I make my way over to my husband, who’s currently standing on a ladder adjusting a string of lights. For a moment, I just stand there looking at his tree trunk thighs and meaty butt encased in his tight Wrangler jeans. Another pulse of desire strums through my body.

“Baby?”

“Yes, ma’am?” he asks while continuing with his task.

“I need you,” I say.

“Need help with something?”

“No, I neeeeed you.”

He glances over his shoulder and cocks a brow. “Now?”

I bite my lip, then nod.

He grins and descends the ladder. “You are a needy thing, aren’t you, wife?”

“Shh. The rest of your family doesn’t need to know what a horndog this pregnancy is making me,” I say.

He chuckles, but grabs my hand and pulls me over to the barn, then straight into the tack room. He barricades the door, then turns to face me. His hands go to his belt, then his button and zipper are undone, and his jeans part, revealing the front placket of his boxers. His dick is already tenting that fabric.

“I already filled this greedy pussy once today,” he says.

“I can’t help it,” I pout.

“I’m not complaining, wife. Just making a statement.” He pulls me to him then and kisses me hard.

I cling to him while our tongues slide against one another and my pussy gets even wetter. I pull back. “Now, Harrison, please. I’m aching.”

He leads me over to the saddle mount. “Bend over, wife, hold on here.” Behind me, I hear his belt pull free from his jeans. “You know how this works. Bite down on this.”

He puts the worn leather in my mouth. “If you can’t keep quiet, I’ll have to put something else in your mouth to silence you. Then your pussy won’t get filled. Do you understand?”

I nod, groaning against his belt between my teeth. He pulls my leggings down over my ass, then my panties.

“Widen your legs, baby,” he tells me.

Then his hand is reaching between my thighs. “Drenched. Goddammit, Birdie, you’re so fucking sexy when you’re needy like this.” He slides his dick through my wetness, then presses inside me.

Slow, slow, slow, he goes until he bottoms out, his balls smacking against my clit.

I groan.

“Quiet,” he growls.

Why is it so sexy when he’s so demanding and bossy? I don’t know, and I don’t care. Right now, I just need him to fuck me hard and make me come.

“You’re so tight from this angle,” he says. “Love this fucking pussy. Love fucking this pussy. Fucking love you.” All of this he says while pounding into me, his dick hitting and dragging against all the good spots inside me.

I’m whimpering against the leather in my mouth, but at this point I don’t care how loud I am. The orgasm is building in my core and it’s going to be a big one. I never need to tell Harrison what I need; he can read my body so well. He reaches around and puts a finger against my clit and rolls that bead of nerves.

“That’s it, baby, I can feel you. Come all over your husband’s dick.”