Red Stockings, Silent Prayers

The rain hammered against the windows of my office, a relentless rhythm mirroring the anxious thrum in my chest. I’d been watching the security feed from our home for weeks now, ever since the break-in had rattled us both. It was a strange comfort, knowing I could check in on Mary Beth when she was alone, even if it was just to satisfy a growing, insistent need. Tonight, she was settled on the couch, lost in a well-worn copy of Song of Solomon, her bright red toenails flashing beneath the sheer black stockings. The black fabric clung to her slim, fit legs, the garter strap a subtle reminder of the curves beneath. Her manicured nails turned the pages, a delicate dance against the paper, while her toned belly peeked out from the top of her silky black blouse. The way the light caught the nipples, small and expectant, was an invitation I couldn't ignore. I imagined the cool air, the dampness clinging to her skin, and the primal urge to reach out and possess her.

As she shifted, pulling her legs up to stretch, the blouse rose a little further, revealing the tantalizing curve of her breasts. A shiver ran down my spine. Just the thought of her nipples, so vulnerable, so exposed, sent a wave of heat through me. I knew, instinctively, that if I nibbled on them, she would moan, a low, guttural sound that would pull me closer, demanding more. The Bible lay forgotten on the coffee table as her fingers traced the swell of her breasts, a slow, deliberate exploration. A soft moan escaped her lips, a whisper of pleasure that only fueled my desire. Before long, she set the book aside, a deliberate act, and I panned the camera closer, zooming in on the text.

“Song of Solomon,” I murmured, recognizing the passage instantly. The story of true love, of complete and utter surrender, resonated deeply. The erotic undertones, so blatant in its depiction of passionate encounters, sent a jolt of excitement through me. Mary Beth was clearly enjoying herself, immersed in the sensual narrative. As she slid a hand down her tummy, her knees parted slightly, revealing the top of her pussy nestled between the garter straps. The sight was both shocking and intoxicating. Her fingers began to iddle, teasing the sensitive flesh, before descending further, disappearing into the opening. A low, urgent moan filled the room, a clear signal of her mounting arousal.

I couldn’t help but run my palm down my stiff shaft, a silent acknowledgment of the powerful force building within me. The anticipation was almost unbearable. As she continued her exploration, her body tensed, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The scent of her, a blend of vanilla and something uniquely Mary Beth, filled the air, further intensifying my lust. She pulled her fingers from her pussy, a deliberate move that left me breathless. A long, glistening string of clear fluid dripped from her fingertips, a testament to her pleasure. She opened her lips wide, a primal invitation, and stuck out her tongue to catch the falling droplets. Then, with a satisfied sigh, she dipped her fingers back into her own essence, savoring the taste.

Soon, her hand returned to her garden of liquid incense, circling and sliding with increasing fervor. Her other hand, meanwhile, began to unbutton her blouse, creating a wider opening to reveal more of her body. As she expertly manipulated the buttons, her fingers deftly worked their way between the garter straps, pinching and twisting at her nipples until she let out another, more insistent moan. Her thighs began to spread, revealing the smooth, taut skin beneath, and she squeezed around the hand between them, lost in her own pleasure.

The sight was too much to bear. My slacks were already damp with my own anticipation, and my cock was hard as steel, throbbing with an urgent need to be released. Without hesitation, I abandoned my office and raced to my car, the rain blurring my vision as I sped towards home. The snow had held off, a small mercy in this desperate pursuit.

I pulled into the driveway, the familiar scent of pine and damp earth a welcome relief. Quietly, I entered the house, hoping to catch her in the midst of her sensual journey. Instead, I found her lying on the couch, seemingly asleep, her legs splayed open in an invitation I couldn't resist. As I undressed, my eyes devoured every inch of her form. The honey dripped from her pussy, clinging to her thighs, her fingers, and the cushions, a sticky testament to her arousal. The scent was overwhelming, a potent mix of desire and surrender. My erection, already hard from the drive, intensified with each glance.

I knelt between her knees, her warm, yielding flesh a welcome contrast to the cool air. Aiming carefully, I pushed slowly and deliberately between her swollen lips and into the snug, slick warmth beyond—my heaven for over two decades. Mary Beth’s eyes fluttered open, widening in surprise before settling into a blissful expression. A moan escaped her lips, a clear signal of her pleasure. "My beloved has entered our garden," she whispered, her voice thick with desire.

"Yes, my love," I replied, drawing her hips closer as I began to thrust. "I heard your call and have come to water the garden." The thought of impregnating her, of adding another layer of intimacy to our relationship, ignited a primal fire within me. I lifted her legs and held them to my chest as I pounded her tight pussy over and over. Her tits bounced wildly with each thrust, a rhythmic display of her pleasure.

“Yes, fuck me, my beloved. Fuck me hard and long till my honeycomb gushes all over your beautiful cock!” she cried out, her voice filled with raw, unbridled lust. As I complied, her body shook and trembled, her pussy pulsing around my cock with each thrust. Honey poured from her pussy, squirting out around my cock in a golden torrent, a visible manifestation of her pleasure. We continued our frenzied dance, lost in a world of sensation and desire.

Finally, with one last, desperate push, I pulled Mary Beth’s shaking legs tight to me and arched my back. Her hips rose with me, leaving only her shoulders and head on the couch as my hot cock erupted, flooding her with a torrent of pleasure. Mary Beth trembled, still spasming lightly around my cock. Her eyes fluttered and rolled back, lost in the depths of her arousal.

I remained deep within her pussy, making sure to fill her completely. When I finally pulled out and lowered her hips, our cum gushed like a river from her pussy, a testament to our shared pleasure. Mary Beth lay swooning, her body limp and relaxed. She looked much like she had when I found her here, except now the evidence of our encounter was my gift.

I stood, smiling down at her, feeling a surge of gratitude for the woman before me. She was my wife, my lover, my everything. As I thanked the Lord once again for blessing me with such a beautiful, amazing partner, I knew that our night had been more than just a physical encounter—it was a reaffirmation of our love, a celebration of our shared desires. The rain continued to beat against the windows, but inside, in the heart of our home, we had found our own private paradise.

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