An Explosive Reunion

Once upon a time, in the hot and humid summer in the South, I had the wildest, sexiest, most frustrating, most pleasurable, most intense sex of my life, and I want to tell you about it.

My wife and I had decided to have a baby, but just a month after we made the decision, just a month after she went off birth control, work sent me off on a monthlong trip unexpectedly. It was unfortunate and frustrating timing, for me, for her, for us. We'd always had wild sexual chemistry, but knowing she was off birth control did something to both of us. The night before I left we had magical sex, passionate sex, enthusiastic sex that was hot even by our standards, but it hadn't done the job. She hadn't gotten pregnant.

Then I had to leave, and work kept me busy.

We called, and those calls turned to teasing, and that teasing turned to enthusiastic mutual phone masturbation that left me dog-tired in the mornings and worn out at nights, and I did not care because it was worth it.

Then, a week before I was due back, she said something quite different.

"You get back on Monday," she said, and there was heat in her words. "That means Monday is the night. Don't get off until then. I want you primed, and frustrated, and ready, and I am going to get what I fucking want. Be ready."

I opened my mouth to reply - I don't know what I would've said, but I would've said something - but she hung up.

The next week was torture, and anticipation, and work, and work, and work, and every time I worked I thought of her, and I don't know how I made it through, but I did. She didn't answer calls. She didn't return texts. She knew wondering and thinking of her last message would drive me wild, and she was right.

The plane ride home was interminable, and every delay, every inconvenience, every routine problem of travel seemed compounded a thousandfold, and all the while I was well aware that my wife would be waiting, and the heat that had been in her voice promised a wild night.

The drive home was a chore, and though I should have been exhausted by the day I was anything but. I was energized, my heart pounding in my chest, as I navigated through a pouring rain towards our house. We lived on the outskirts of town, well away from the nearest neighbors, in a huge old home we'd bought and fixed up with a wide, open porch.

I saw her as I pulled up, standing framed in the doorway, the light from behind her framing her in silhouette, and then she stepped forward to show me what she was wearing, and it took my breath away. It was a white string bikini she'd bought some time ago only to find that water made it go translucent, and since it barely covered anything anyway it took the bikini from indecent to obscene. I'd loved it. So had she. But she saved it for special occasions.

Then she took two steps out into the hot summer rain and extended her arms and threw back her head and let the water pour over her, soaking her to the skin in seconds and making the bikini seem to disappear and her seem to be standing naked on the porch to welcome me home.

It was glorious. She was beautiful, and she was sexy, and she seemed to radiate lust even more than she normally did. She brought her head up, looked at me as I stood in the driveway, one foot out of the car, utterly stunned by her display, and then she turned on her heel and walked back into the house with one last glance over her shoulder.

I barely remembered to close the car door. I didn't even think of bringing the luggage in, or attending to any of the routine after-trip chores of life. I bounded up onto the porch and after her, and I barely made it a step inside the front door when she pounced.

She'd been waiting in a little side hallway off the main entrance, and as I passed it she leaped out and slammed me against the wall. I was bigger than her, taller and stronger, but she took me by surprise and by the time I realized what was happening my back was to the wall and she was kissing me, hard and hot and desperate, kissing me like I was all that was keeping her from drowning.

My arms came up to encircle her, but she grabbed my wrists and shoved them up against the wall and snarled at me.

"I-" I began, and that's as far as I got.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up," she growled, enunciating each word carefully.

She took a step back and her fingers came up to the strings that held her top together, tugging at them until the knots unraveled and the soaking cloth peeled away from her skin and fell to the floor in a sodden pile, freeing her beautiful breasts, breasts that I could never stop loving, touching, kissing, breasts that she loved me toying with, squeezing, kneading. She gave me a moment to appreciate her, but only a moment, and then turned and walked towards our bedroom wearing nothing but her translucent, sodden bikini bottoms.

"Strip before you come in," she called back as she entered the bedroom, and then she was inside, her words seeming to hang in the air.

I stripped, and stripped fast, my fingers clumsy with need, struggling with my tie, with my belt, my shoes, until I just kicked them free in frustration, removing everything before I went in. Something was in the air that night, and she was riding a wave of commanding lust that had me eating out of her hand. She was always sexually aggressive, but tonight was something else, something further, something special.

Something really fucking hot.

It took me thirty agonizing seconds to get my clothes off and stagger to the door, and when I finally managed to make it in I stopped, spellbound.

My wife was standing at the foot of the bed, one knee leaning on the bed, the other straight, still wearing nothing but her rain-soaked bikini bottoms, her golden-brown skin gleaming in the room's dim light. One arm rested at her side, the other she held up with one finger extended, a pair of bondage cuffs dangling from it, but what really stopped me in my tracks was her expression.

She looked feral. Predatory. Infused with lust. She looked like a woman on a mission, and sexual desire radiated off her so hard it was almost palpable.

"Get on the bed," she said, her voice low and breathy. "I'm going to tie you up. And then I'm going to work you over. All. Night. Long."

I obeyed, desperately eager, a month of celibacy and a week without even the relief of masturbation had left me in no state to resist even if I'd wanted to, and I did not want to. I scrambled up onto the bed, lay back on it, and she seized my wrists, guiding them up over my head to the head of the bed. She threaded the cuffs through the headboard, fastened one around my right wrist, then held the other poised around my left.

"Something you should know," she whispered, leaning in close, her lips a bare inch from my ear, her breath hot on my cheek. "I am going to be merciless tonight. I am going to edge you, and I am going to torment you, and I am not going to pay attention to pleas for mercy or relief. In fact, I don't even want you to speak, and if you do I'll gag you. Tonight is about me, and about your cock doing what it was made for, and the rest of you is just along for the ride. If you want to run screaming..."

She drew that out, letting the pause linger in the air, and then she fastened the cuff around my left wrist, binding me to the bed.

"... then you already should have," she finished. "Now it's too fucking late."

She moved in over me, straddling me, letting her soaking sex slide up the underside of my cock with only the thin, wet fabric of her bikini between us, grinding slowly, wickedly, teasingly.

"Lover," she whispered, "do you know what I spent the last month doing?"

I opened my mouth to reply but her glare silenced me. I shook my head instead, trying not to moan as she teased me, as she rode me, guiding her hips forward and back, resting her hands on my chest, giving me a magnificent view of her body. Her breasts bobbed and swayed, her sweet pussy was on full display through the sheer material of the wet bikini, her hair was pulled back in a tight black braid that made her look more than a little severe. Severe and very, very sexy.

"I've spent the last month," she whispered, "edging myself to the thought of getting pregnant. Of getting knocked up. Every time we chatted, every time we teased, every time we worked each other up over the phone in the last month I stopped myself before I came, and do you know why?"

She leaned in, brought one finger up to lie across my lips, warning me not to speak, and I didn't. I shook my head again instead, a tiny side-to-side movement.

"Tonight," she said. "Tonight is why. I wanted to be pent-up and frustrated and horny beyond words, and I am. I haven't gone a month without a climax since I was a teenager. I haven't gone a month without sex since our third fucking date. And we spent the month before that fucking like rabbits trying to get me pregnant. And failing."

She stopped grinding then, leaned in to lay atop me, her breasts pressing into my chest.

"Failing," she whispered, drawing out the word. "Your cock just hasn't done his job. You haven't done your job. You haven't put a baby into me. You haven't knocked me up, and it's not for lack of opportunity. I didn't say no once that month, even when it wasn't the right time. And that has me a little... frustrated."

She pulled back then, looked down at me, her eyes flashing, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted subtly.

"It's not fair that I'm the only one frustrated, is it?" She asked. "I mean, I don't think it's fair. If you think it's fair that's fine, I do not give the tiniest measurable fraction of a flying fuck."

She lifted her hips up, moving them in a slow circle, a sinuous dance, making a show of pulling the wet fabric taut against her eager sex, putting it on display. Her hands fell to the ties that held it together, tugging gently on them but not untying the knots, not yet, enjoying the effect she was having on me.

"And so, tonight," she whispered, "I'm going to edge you. All night long. I'm going to work you up and up and up. With my lips. With my tongue. With my hands. With my moist, juicy cunt. With my tight little ass. And then, every time, just as you're aching to explode, to spurt inside me again and again and again... I'm going to stop."

She tugged at the strings, pulling them taut, the knots untying slowly until they unraveled completely. She had to pull the wet fabric free as it clung to her skin, tossing it off the side of the bed without looking on it, kneeling naked atop me, naked and consumed by lust.

"And every time I stop," she said, "I'm going to get myself off. Perhaps more than once. I have toys. I have fingers. I'm going to get off hard and I'm going to let you watch. Actually, I'm going to make you watch. And I'm going to say the filthiest fucking things to you, and keep you all hot and bothered for hours. You're going to spend all night wishing you'd fucked me just a little better, wishing you'd taken me just a little harder, wishing your cock had done his job properly and put a baby in me."

She brought her hands in, let one encircle my aching cock, the other cradle my balls, keeping her touch light, light but inescapable.

"He's in there now," she whispered, "or she. Our baby. The seed that wants to be planted deep inside me. Just waiting to come out. Just waiting for your cock to be deep, deep inside my eager little cunt. It's going to feel so, so good when I finally stop edging you and let you cum. It's going to be so, so nice when you realize I've decided to end your torment and give you that fucking climax you've been begging for all night long. It's going to be so, so blissful when you finally use this cock for what he was meant for and breed me. Impregnate me. Knock. Me. Up."

She pulled back, bringing her hands up to cup her breasts, squeezing them, teasing her nipples between thumbs and forefingers. She pinched one, then the other, letting out soft little moans each time, moans that worked their way into my brain and did magical things there.

"These are going to get bigger," she whispered, "all full of milk. You've always enjoyed playing with my breasts and soon there'll be more for you to enjoy."

Her hands descended, moving to her flat stomach, rubbing it, stroking it, moving over it tenderly.

"And this," she said, "is going to get big and round and every time you see it you're going to remember tonight. You're going to remember that you did that. That your nice, hard cock came inside my eager cunt. That you filled me up with your hot, sticky seed and one lucky little sperm swam just the right way to find my egg. But that's not all you're going to remember."

Her fingers moved lower still, one hand delving between her legs to rub herself softly, teasing herself, teasing me, her breath getting heavier, her words carrying more heat.

"You're going to remember," she whispered, "that I spent all fucking night torturing the living fuck out of you and getting myself off. When I finally let you cum inside me I'm going to have climaxed again and again and again and again and you... you're not going to have gotten off at all until the end. Because for the month before you left we had a lot of sex and you got off a lot and you didn't knock me up even once. Tonight... I'm going to get off a lot. A lot. I have new toys. They have lots of settings. I'm going to test every one. Tonight I'm going to be the most unhinged little whore you could imagine. And up until it's time for you to do your duty... you're not going to get even the teeniest little bit of relief."

She paused then, let out a little sigh as her fingers sought out her clit once, and again, and again.

"You're going to get close," she whispered. "So, so, so, so close. I'm really fucking good at edging you but tonight, lover, I'm not edging you for your satisfaction. I'm edging you for mine. You think you know what being desperately horny is like. By the end of tonight I'll have you wrapped around my little finger and begging me - begging me - for your pleasure. When I finally let you cum you're going to empty yourself into me so hard you'll feel it for days."

She moved down my body slowly, kissing tenderly as she descended until her lips reached my cock. She brought one hand up, encircling my manhood, letting her lips press kisses up the side of the shaft.

"It'll be different once I'm pregnant," she purred. "Something I was told about, lover, is that when women in my family get pregnant... we go insane. We want it all the time. And I mean all. The. Time. Animals go into heat when they want to get knocked up. I'll go into heat once I am knocked up. I'll wake you up with your cock in my mouth and send you off to sleep after just emptying yourself in my cunt. I will want it, and I will get what I want, and you will give it to me or you will suffer. That's not a promise. That's a warning."

Her lips drew up, up, up, and then they parted and she dove down, taking my cock in to the root in one smooth motion, holding herself down on me and then, just to tease, she brought one hand to the back of her own head and made a great show of pretending to hold herself down on me until she was desperate for breath, then pulled up gasping, shuddering, leaving me twitching in need of my climax, my pleasure that was so close, so close and yet just out of reach.

"Oh dear," she whispered, "I think I've edged you just enough to go get myself off. Do enjoy the show, lover. I'm going to make it spectacular. And remember... it's only the prelude to tonight's real performance."

She slid over to the edge of the bed, stood, and walked to a chair set up to face the bed. It was a nice, wide chair that she took great joy in reclining on, her legs spread open. Two fingers descended to tease her sex, the other hand moved down to a box carefully placed beside the chair, picked something up but did not remove it from the box, not yet.

"This little cunt," she whispered, stroking her eager pussy lips slowly, "thinks I should just let you cum now. That I should climb on top of you and slide down and ride you cowgirl until you cum. It might work. Tonight might be the lucky night. But tonight isn't just about getting me pregnant, lover. Tonight is about getting me pregnant and getting me off and making you feel a tiny wee bit of the frustration I've been feeling for the last two months."

Her fingers found her clit and she let out a hissing moan, a sound very much calculated to tease and arouse, and this calculation was done really carefully and really well and it really worked. My cock throbbed, ached, desperate for the climax I was being very skillfully denied, and the mischief in her eyes delighted in my suffering.

"I could use my wand," she said, "or a bullet vibrator, or a rabbit. And maybe I will, later. But for my first climax? The one you're going to be watching most carefully? I want something you'll envy. I want something you'll picture your cock in place of. I want something like this."

She drew out a dildo, except calling it a dildo is like calling Versailles a house. It was fancy, with multiple rotating bits and a clit stimulator, and it was just a little bit bigger than me and I am one hundred percent certain that was one of her criteria in choosing it.

"This toy," she whispered, "is my friend. I've been testing it out. I like it a lot. But I've only tested it sparingly. Tonight is when I really put it through its paces. Tonight is when I let it show me - and you - what it can do. Because what I want it to do is fuck my fucking brains out. I want it to reduce me to a puddle of satisfied happiness, and I want you to watch. What do you say, lover? Ready to watch me cum while you can't?"

I opened my mouth to reply, although I have no idea what I would've said, and she held up a warning finger.

"That was rhetorical, sweetie," she said. "I do not fucking care. If you want me to care you would breed me properly. If I'd gotten knocked up when we first started trying, I'd care. And also you'd be too busy being blown to say anything. But you didn't, and I didn't, and you're not."

She brought the tip of the toy down to her sweet, eager sex, teased the tip up and down her soaking pussy lips, and then made direct eye contact with me and drove it deep inside, positioning the clit stimulator just so. It wasn't vibrating yet, but her finger came down to the control on its base.

"Now, the thing about this toy," she said, "is that it has a lot of settings. I've only played around with the lower ones, and they're really pleasant. They give me this sort of slow, swelling climax. It sort of builds and builds and builds and then erupts. It's like a little-bitty volcano going off. On normal nights that's really lovely."

She paused very deliberately, making sure I had a clear view of her finger on the dial.

"Tonight," she whispered, her voice getting decidedly huskier, "is not a normal night. Tonight is the night I'm getting what I want. Tonight is the night my naughty little cunt shows you what frustration means. I don't want a nice, little eruption. I want the fucking meteor that killed the fucking dinosaurs."

And she twisted the dial all the way up in one smooth motion.

What happened next was rather wet, and rather hot, and rather dramatic. The toy flared to life, her eyes opened wide, her back arched, thighs parted and tensed, and she let out a shriek that sounded rather as if a scream had an orgasm. Her legs spasmed violently, hips slid back, then forward, then back again, and then she adjusted her hold on the toy and drove it in another blissful, torturous inch and let out a moaning, shivering sound, a sound of near-pure lust and hunger and raw, ragged need.

"Oh fuck," she gasped, and then there was another pulse and she cried out again, inarticulate sensation taking over.

It was too much, too fast, too hard, and she loved it, loved the overload, loved the sensation, loved making me watch and put on a performance, and when her climax hit her it was pulverizing.

Her toes curled, fingers clenched down hard, breasts heaved, and her sweet sex soaked herself as she came, came crying out in fulfillment and climax and absolute sexual joy. She held the toy inside her, riding it through the climax, and then drew it out an inch, two, three...

... and then she met my eyes and smirked and drove it back inside to the hilt.

"Normally," she gasped, "this would be too much. Tonight, nothing is too much. And remember, lover, this could've been you if your cock had just done what he was made for."

Her free hand dropped down, locked around the chair's arm, her body tensed, and her sweet sex politely informed her brain that she was going to cum again whether she was ready to or not, whether she wanted to or not, whether she could take it or not. And she did.

This one was harder, longer, and it took the first climax's flames and poured gasoline upon them, roaring through her, tormenting her already-oversensitive sex, her already-strained body, her already-desperate mind. It should have been too much but it wasn't, that night it couldn't be, and she knew it and welcomed it and her cry was a cry of triumph as well as pleasure, conquest as well as climax.

"Ffffffuuuuck," she whispered, removing the toy slowly, thumbing it off. "That felt really, really nice. But do you know what I liked the most about it, lover mine?"

She smirked, stood slowly on visibly-shaky legs, walked gently over to the bed, climbed up beside me.

"I liked you watching it," she whispered, straddling me again, letting the underside of my cock play along her soaking sex, breathing visibly harder as her oversensitive pussy roared at the touch. "I liked putting on a show. I liked getting off when you couldn't. Because, lover, tonight? Until the very end of the night when it's finally time for you to do what you should've done long ago? You can't."

She slid her hips up, up, up until my cock was positioned at her entrance, until one hard thrust down would impale her completely, and she held me there, held herself there, one hand encircling my cock, the other playing with her breasts, squeezing one, kneading the other.

"You've had soooooo many chances," she whispered. "I've barely once said 'no'. Over the desk. Over the counter in the kitchen. Up against the wall when we first got home. Up against the wall just before we left. You've cum inside me again and again and again. And it's been lovely. But, lover, it hasn't scratched that raw, primal itch. You've given me some nice orgasms, but you haven't given me what I need."

My cock was trembling in her hand, twitching, and her eyes were dancing with delight as she held it tight.

"You haven't bred me," she whispered. "Haven't knocked me up. There's no baby inside me. My stomach isn't swelling, my breasts aren't growing, I'm not doing what nature intended me to do. And until you fix that... I'm probably going to be a little frustrated. Do you know what it's like to be frustrated?"

The tip of my cock was sliding between her molten pussy's lips as she lowered herself a fraction of an inch, held herself in place. I nodded desperately, trying to look understanding and empathetic. All I really looked was horny and worried, but that's how she wanted me to look anyway.

"No," she said, "you don't. But you'll learn."

And she climbed off, moving very slowly, very deliberately, leaning forward to lift her hips first, holding my gaze but still feeling my cock twitch as her sex retreated, as I let out a soft sound of need and disappointment, a soft sound she enjoyed tremendously.

"Frustration," she whispered, rising up on her knees, reaching down to rub her glistening pussy tenderly, slowly, teasingly. "Needing something you're just not getting. Wanting something you just can't have. I could give it to you, too. I could just... slide down onto that nice, hard cock. It wouldn't take much more than that to make you cum deep inside me. I could just drop down and rub myself until you came."

She paused then, smirked, very deliberately stroked herself once, twice, three times.

"You're close," she whispered. "So close. I can tell. You're trying not to show it but, lover? It's not working. I know how eager you are. I know how much you want to cum. Because I'm good at this. You're hoping it'll be like this time last month, just before you had to leave, when we both took the day off and fucked each other until we were so exhausted we couldn't move. You're hoping I'm hornier than I am frustrated."

She slid off the bed, leaned in over the side of it to whisper directly into my ear.

"I'm not hornier than I am frustrated," she said. "I'm so horny I could scream. But I'm so, so, so much more frustrated that you haven't done what your cock was made to do. We've been fucking. You've cum in me a lot. And I'm still not pregnant and I want to be. Just like you're not getting a climax. And you want one."

I nodded frantically at that, opened my mouth to speak, but she brought her finger up from between her legs and lay it quite authoritatively over my lips. It was wet and it smelled like her, her lust, her desire, her need.

"Poor boy," she purred, turning to walk back towards her chair. "If only you'd knocked me up like you should've done, we'd be having a very different conversation right now. The second you got home I would've jumped on you. In fact, I probably wouldn't even have waited for that. I might've met you at the airport and fucked you silly in the car, and that would've just been foreplay. But you didn't, and here we are."

She bent over the chair, reaching down into the box of toys, taking great care to give me a lovely view of her ass, wiggling it back and forth as she pretended to have a hard time searching for what she wanted. Then she found it.

"Do you know what I've been missing these last two months?" She asked, turning, holding up a small jar of lube. "Anal. I miss having you fuck my tight little ass. It always seems to really get you going, and I like really getting you going. And for a month of enforced celibacy, plus another month before that where you'd only cum in this moist little pussy, I haven't been able to enjoy even a little bit of backdoor pleasure. But I think making you watch while I fuck my naughty little ass with my new toy might just be what I need..."

She reached down, picked up her dildo, made a great show of licking the tip, then slowly inserting it into her mouth, giving it the sort of gentle, thorough attention that made my cock quiver and throb, before she pulled back and let it pop free. She opened the lube, spread a healthy dollop over the toy, and another, coating it thoroughly, working it in with her hands, holding eye contact with me while she did it.

"Just think," she whispered, turning, wiggling her ass left and right, shifting her hips in a marvelous teasing dance, "if you'd knocked me up when you should have I'd be lubing you up for this. Getting that nice, hard cock all ready to slide right into this tight little hole..."

She squeezed out another generous dollop of lube onto her fingers, brought two of them back, held them poised at her asshole, rubbing lube into it but not thrusting inside, not yet.

"Oh dear," she purred, "this feels really, really nice. But what feels even nicer is knowing how much you wish your cock was doing what these fingers and this toy are about to. Wishing how much you could just grab my hips and thrust in like this..."

And she slid two fingers inside, thrusting in smoothly, repeatedly, in and out, in and out, working the lube in and working herself up, letting out theatrical moans and sighs, playing up her very real pleasure and watching me through half-lidded eyes, enjoying my frustration and need, enjoying how caught up in her I was.

"Yessss," she moaned, withdrawing her fingers, reaching down to pick up her dildo, drawing it up, holding it poised with the tip pressing against her asshole, "that felt really nice, but this... this is going to feel even nicer. A nice, hard length driving deep into my ass and giving me the sort of delicious fuck I haven't had in far too long. Ready to watch?"

She did not wait for an answer, pressing the tip of the dildo in, tensing up to hold it in place for just a moment, then relaxing to let the tip pop inside. She groaned at that, a sound of delicious sexual pleasure, gave herself a moment to get used to the intrusion, and then slid it in deeper, deeper, moving it in slowly, taking her time, teasing us both.

"Ohhh," she sighed, "god that feels so fucking good. I'm sure it'd feel really nice for you, too, if it was your cock instead of this toy. Thrusting into my hot, tight, lubed little ass, feeling every inch of your cock just bathed in pleasure. It really makes you wish you'd gotten me pregnant before you left, doesn't it? You could have me bent over the bed and just fuck me any which way you want and I'd fucking love it."

She thrust the dildo in just a little further, held her thumb poised over the vibration control, brought her free hand down to her eager sex, stroking herself slowly, tenderly, parting her legs and turning to give me the best possible view.

"Can you imagine?" She asked, her voice warm and wicked and noticeably huskier. "If your nice, hard cock was buried deep in my tight little ass right now? If it was you that was about to make me sound just... like... this?"

That's when she twisted the dildo's speed control and it vibrated to life. She moved it up slowly, stopping at each increment, going from foreplay to delicious to powerful to worrying and beyond, and her moans followed right along, getting louder, deeper, more urgent. Her free hand stroked her sex, and then her fingers sought out her clit and worked at it eagerly, driving herself mercilessly towards her pleasure, crying out in bliss as she got closer, closer, closer to her climax.

"I'm going to cum," she whispered, "and I'm going to cum hard."

She had more to say, but she'd run out of time to say it. She thrust in with the dildo, her fingers found the perfect way to stroke her clit, her thighs tensed, her back arched and she let out a howl of pleasure as her orgasm rolled over her. She almost fell forward onto the chair as she came, convulsing, her legs twitching, her ass shaking, her breasts swinging beneath her.

"Ohhhh fffuuuuck," she whispered, turning, leaning back against the chair's back, bringing one hand down to tug the dildo free. It took a moment, her fingers slippery with lube, but she finally managed, tugging it loose and letting it fall to the floor. "You would not believe how much I needed that."

She sat on the chair, arched her back, let her hands roam freely over her body, up to her breasts, down to her thighs, spreading her legs wide and showing off her glistening pussy, letting the afterglow sink in. Everything she was doing was designed to tease me, and it was working and she knew it and I knew that she knew it and that made it better and worse at the same time.

"I-" I began, and that's as far as I got.

"Oh no," she said, raising one finger in a waggly naughty-naughty-naughty gesture. "You don't get to talk. You have two jobs tonight, husband. One is to get me pregnant. The other is to fucking suffer. Talking won't help with either."

She stood and stretched, a long and languorous extension, reaching her hands up high, shifting one shoulder up, then the other, making her breasts move hypnotically. It was a breathtaking sight, and she made the most of it, showing herself off happily. My eyes traced over her, lingering on her shapely breasts, her soft smile, her long legs, her soaking, eager sex, drinking in the sight of her, the sounds she made, the scent of lust in the air.

"I'm fertile right now," she whispered. "It's the right time, but even if I hadn't been keeping track I'd know. I can feel it. It's just this... hunger. This wicked little itch that can only be scratched one way..."

She dropped her arms to her sides, walked towards the bed slowly, putting a lot of sway in her hips, but somehow the effect was as much predatory as sexual. She climbed up onto the bed, crawled up from the foot of the mattress to sit astride my legs, letting one hand encircle my cock, the other cup my balls. The touch was soft, gentle, but any touch at all was enough to make my throbbing member ache, make me let out an inarticulate little sound of raw sexual frustration.

"Orgasms aren't enough," she said, clearly noticing my frustration and gleefully ignoring it. "They're nice, but they don't give me what I want. What I want is for that one little sperm swimming around in here..."

She very gently squeezed my balls at that point, making me moan.

"... travel right up your nice, hard cock and into my eager... little... cunt," she whispered, stroking my cock as she spoke. "Along with quite a lot of others, of course. I want you to fucking erupt into me, lover. I want you to cum so hard you feel it for days."

I pulled hard against the bonds, but they'd been fastened too well. My arms flexed, strained, all to no avail, and she watched with amusement, let me exhaust myself trying to get free, trying and failing.

"I could keep this up all night," she whispered when I gave up. "I could keep you hard, keep you frustrated, and keep teasing myself until it was just too much to take. But I really want to feel that nice, hard cock inside me soon. So I'm going to give you a choice, lover, and think really hard about it before you make it."

She moved up over me, raising her hips, settling down with my cock standing up behind her so she could lean in low, pressing her body to mine, her breasts to my chest, her head to the side so she could whisper into my right ear directly.

"If you decide you're feeling like tonight's the night," she whispered, "if you're feeling really, really potent, say so. Say it and I'll slide down onto that throbbing, aching length and ride you until you cum for me. I'll give you that release you've been dreaming of, aching for, longing for all night long. But oh, lover, you'd better be right about that because if you don't succeed, if you don't knock me up, if you don't get me pregnant, I will spend the next fucking month teasing you until it's the right time again. If you think tonight's been bad you should wait and see what I can do with a month."

I moaned at that, the thought of that torment at war with the need pulsing through my body and mind as she spoke.

"Or," she whispered, "you could tell me you're just not up for it tonight. I'd be very disappointed, but I'd understand and we'd wait until next month. I'd be much less of a tease. But you wouldn't get off. So, sweetie, are you man enough to roll those dice? Do you think your cock has what it takes tonight?"

I swallowed hard, knowing that there was only one possible answer.

"Yes," I whispered.

"What's that?" She asked, and I could hear the smirk in her voice.

"Yes," I said, louder, trying not to show the strain. "Yes, tonight's the night. Yes, you fucking tease, yes!"

"Are you suuuuuure?" she asked, drawing out the word. "I mean, it'd be a horrible month of waiting if you're wrong. And I'd be so very fucking much worse by the time next month came around..."

"I'm sure," I said, trying to sound a lot more confident than I felt.

"Oh, good," she said. "Because I don't think I can wait much longer. There's just one last thing..."

She reached up, under the pillow, retrieved something, then sat up, straddling my stomach, holding up her hand to show me a bullet vibrator she'd palmed.

"You see," she whispered, "I want to cum when you do. But I don't think you'll be able to hold out very long after all that teasing. So I'm going to sit here and edge myself until I'm almost there and then I'm going to lift my hips up and slide back and give you a climax you'll remember until the end of time. Sound good?"

"Wait, I-" I began, but she wasn't listening.

"Whatever, don't care," she said, bringing the vibrator down to her sopping sex, clicking it on.

It pulsed madly, wickedly, and she let out a tortured groan as it made contact, rubbing it up and down her eager pussy lips once, twice, and then settling it on her clit as her free hand came down to take over where it had left off, stroking herself tenderly, her oversensitive sex eager to her touch.

"Oh my," she said, "I'm closer than I thought. It turns out that teasing you really turns me on. Well, teasing you and dreaming about getting pregnant. I don't think you'll have long to wait, and that's a shame. I was really enjoying how fucking desperate you are..."

She leaned back, giving me a lovely view, and let out a soft sigh and then a long, deep moan. She was clearly near the edge, even after all the night's activity, but trying to hold out.

"Fffuck," she said, lifting her hips, keeping the bullet vibrating on her clit but using her other hand to reach back, encircle my cock, hold me steady at her entrance. "I wanted to hold out longer. I wanted to tease you so much more. But I need this so... fucking... much..."

She shifted her hips, the tip of my cock stroking her sopping pussy, my hips reflexively thrusting, but she was ready for it and moved up and down with my motions, keeping me in place.

"This is it, lover," she purred. "Time to make a baby. Hold out as long as you can and then cum like you fucking mean it."

And with that she let go of my cock and sank down onto me in one smooth motion.

God, it felt amazing. After all that teasing, after all that torment, after watching her and needing her and aching for her it was pleasurable beyond words. Her eager pussy was so hot, so wet, so welcoming that I nearly came right then and there. I held on, but my control was frayed to almost nothing.

"Aw," she purred, bringing her free hand up to gently pat my cheek, "you're actually trying to hold out. That's cute."

And she clicked the vibrator up to its highest setting.

Her eyes went wide, her hips thrust forward and back reflexively, and she came hard, moaning and gasping, crying out in pleasure, her sweet sex soaking herself, a moist explosion that bathed my cock in pleasure, hot and wet and utterly delightful.

It was too much. It was too fucking much. I tried to hold on, and that effort lasted for no time at all. My balls tingled, my cock stiffened, and I came hard, spurting into her again and again, and after all that teasing and torment it felt like a geyser pouring through me. It was the hardest climax I've ever had, and it left me gasping and shaking and moaning beneath her, shivering with aftershocks as she collapsed down atop me.

"Mmmm..." she whispered, making no effort to withdraw my cock, breathing heavily. "I think that might have done it. Much too early to know, but I have a good feeling about it."

"I... could you..." I asked, tugging at the bonds.

"Oh no," she said, "I think I like the way you look tied up. I'll let you loose in a bit. Right now I think I need a little nap. Don't go anywhere, lover. You make a nice pillow."

I tried to say something, but she wasn't listening. She put her head down on my chest and closed her eyes and was snoring in seconds, cute little snores she swears she doesn't make when I mention it.

It worked, by the way. And the celebration we had when we got confirmation of that is a story all on its own. But that's a memory for another time.