Church Confessions & Morning Heat

The aroma of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee hung in the air as I pulled out the sausage links and sliced cheese. Hans, leaning against the counter with a smirk playing on his lips, watched me with an intensity that made my pulse quicken. “Jenne,” he began, his voice low and suggestive, “what gets your pussy wet?”

A shiver traced its way down my spine. It wasn’t the first time he’d probed my sexuality, but his directness always caught me off guard. “Hans, why do you ask such questions?” I retorted, trying to maintain a semblance of composure while simultaneously acknowledging the heat radiating from him. He could certainly ask some peculiar questions about my desires.

“Has your pussy ever gotten wet in church?” he pressed, his eyes never leaving mine. It was a bizarre request, one that seemed to stem from some dark corner of his twisted mind.

“Yes,” I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. “Sometimes when we hold hands in church, or when you caress my leg, I feel a surprising amount of arousal. It's a strange sensation, a confusing blend of reverence and lust.”

“Are you aroused right now?” Hans asked, his gaze unwavering. I swallowed hard, feeling the heat intensify. “Of course, I am!” I snapped playfully, clinging to the edge of my own control.

“Take your fingers and touch your pussy,” he commanded, his hand reaching out to guide mine. It was a blatant invitation, a blatant disregard for my boundaries that both thrilled and terrified me.

As I considered my future husband, a familiar wave of longing washed over me. I often indulged in fantasies where I was completely under his control, a willing participant in his twisted games. I imagined all sorts of intimate encounters, pushing the limits of pleasure and pain, all while catering to his perverted desires. By the time Hans and I took our relationship to the next level, I had fully embraced my role as a submissive, a hot wife for a very perverted husband within the MarriageHeat guidelines. The site provided a surprisingly detailed framework for fulfilling his needs, setting clear boundaries while still allowing for an abundance of sensual exploration.

With a deep breath, I moved my fingers down towards my pussy area, pulling up my skirt slightly to reveal the pale skin beneath. I gently caressed my pussy, feeling the sensitive tissue tingle beneath my fingertips. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

“Leave your panties on,” Hans instructed, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. “I do want you to bring yourself to the edge, but do not go over the edge.” It was a delicate balance, a tantalizing dance between pleasure and restraint.

Standing in our small kitchen, completely exposed, I felt a surge of vulnerability mixed with a potent dose of arousal. This was one of the scenarios that had previously sent me into a frenzy before we even tied the knot. In fact, I had masturbated to orgasm once when I was single, standing up in the kitchen at our farm in Friesland. It had been a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, a reminder of the power and pleasure that lay within me.

I noticed that Hans had retrieved his member and was meticulously stroking it. The sight of his hard, erect penis filled me with an overwhelming wave of lust. I get wet anytime I see or imagine my husband touching himself, it’s a primal instinct that defies all reason.

“I am coming close!” I exclaimed, my voice trembling with anticipation.

“Stop touching yourself, Jenne,” Hans commanded, his grip firm on my arm. I obeyed, fighting back the urge to lose control, yet feeling an even greater hunger for a climax.

“Come here and suck me off, but do not swallow my cum.” The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. This command took me to a whole new level of arousal, one I hadn't anticipated in our marriage.

I slowly approached him, my body trembling as I leaned in for the kiss. I took his member into my mouth and began to give him a generous head. Wow, this made me even hornier than I already was. He hadn't taken a shower yet, so he tasted sweaty and a little dirty. I loved that taste. There was something so hot having my husband's hard penis in my mouth.

As he began to cum, I grabbed his ass, pulling it taut against my grip. I took the entire load, savoring every drop as I held it captive. I did not swallow any of his cum, determined to maintain control.

“Take my cum and spit it into your hand. Pull open your panties and spill it into the front of them,” he instructed, his voice low and demanding. I obeyed without hesitation, trusting him to guide me through this strange and intense experience. His cum dripped down to my pussy opening, soaking the fabric of my panties.

“Now take your fingers and put my cum in your pussy,” he commanded, his eyes gleaming with excitement. This was the final step, the culmination of our desires. My fingers willingly obeyed as cum and saliva-filled fingers shoveled his precious fluid into my waiting cunt. It felt incredibly hot, electrifying, pushing me closer and closer to the brink of oblivion. Hans was clearly enjoying the scene, his body responding with every thrust. He took his iPhone out and captured the moment, preserving it for his own private pleasure. That thought alone sent shivers down my spine.

Hans led me to the couch, beckoning me to lie down and spread my legs. “Spread your legs so that I can get pictures of your wet pussy. Take off your panties and suck them as you masturbate.” It was a request that both terrified and thrilled me. I complied, slowly removing my soaked panties and placing them in my mouth. The taste of Hans and my own pussy juices filled my senses, intensifying my arousal to an unbearable degree.

As I sucked on my panties, Hans took pictures, capturing every detail of my pleasure. I was still giving him head, my body quivering with the strain, when I suddenly felt his lips at my pussy opening. I removed my fingers as she started licking and tasting my pussy. He was tasting his cum mixed with my pussy juices. This thought drove me insane.

I was starting to pant and moan, and as I sucked on my panties harder, I climaxed. Wow. My legs wrapped tight around Hans’ head as I drove my pussy into his mouth. He was tasting my orgasm for the first time. I had never cum while he was doing oral sex on me before. I was still sucking on my panties as he was tasting my cumming pussy.

My climax subsided, and I opened my legs. Hans stood up, his member hard once again. He took his member and began to screw my pussy missionary style, lifting me up off the couch as I continued to suck on my panties. He filled me up again.

Then we enjoyed our breakfast, a silent celebration of our shared desires and our newfound understanding of each other's twisted fantasies. After that time together, we returned to our usual Saturday morning routine. About two hours later, I noticed that Hans was staring intently at the pictures on his phone. He was getting hard again, a clear sign that he was relishing in the memory of our encounter.

“Hans, what gives you a hard-on?” I asked, trying to break the spell, to remind him that there were other things in life besides our shared desires.

“You do, Jenne,” he answered, his eyes never leaving his phone screen. He continued to browse through the images, lost in a world of pleasure and domination.

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