Page 10 of The Interview

After throwing my wife down on our bed, I stare down at her as she raises her feet, bends her knees, and opens her legs.

“I’m going to fuck you really, really hard,” I warn her. “Then I’m going to fuck you really, really slow.”

“What, no foreplay, Mr King?”

“I’ve had a whole day of foreplay, and you don’t need it. Just me telling you what I’m about to do will have you all juiced up.”

Her dark brows rise, and she fights a smile.

“Cocky, much?”

“A lot, actually,” I respond while adjusting my very obvious erection.

Her body’s reaction to my words is visceral, and I know she just clenched that tight pussy of hers before a shudder rolled through her.

“Show me, old man,” she orders before biting down on her bottom lip.

“Old man?” I unlace her Doc Martens and pull them off. “This old man is going to have you screaming, moaning, andbegging for more in a few minutes. Or I could just pull on a pair of flannelette pyjamas, take out my teeth, take off my hair, and fuck off to bed if that’s what you’d prefer?”

“You do that, and I’ll sit on your face till you can’t breathe.” She starts to undo the button on her leather trousers.

I slap her hand away and undo them myself. “What a way to go: death by pussy!”

She doesn’t respond, instead, those big blue eyes of hers I love so much scorch a path from my hard dick, up my chest, until they meet mine.

“I fucking love you,” she says oh-so-quietly, her eyes shining with tears.

“I know, and don’t swear.”

“Shut the fuck up and come fuck me.”

I tilt my head to the side and raise my brows as I stare down at her, clocking the Carnage tee she’s wearing. Without a second thought, I pull her down the bed, so her hips are on the edge, drop to my knees, and bury my face in her juicy cunt.

Yeah, even after all these years, I can still be petty like that.

After making my wife come with my fingers and tongue, I flip her onto her belly, pull her up on her knees, and wrap my arm around her so my fingers can keep working her clit. My other hand slides under her tee and up to find her tit. I pull at her nipple as she pushes back into me; my dick resting between her arse cheeks.

Leaning into her, I press my mouth against her ear. “Gonna let me fuck that tight little arse of yours tonight? You’re so fucking wet for me, we can take it slow, and I promise I’ll?—”

“Absofuckinlutelynot,” she cuts me off.

“Just the tip?” I pull at her nipple and move my fingers from her clit to push inside.

She rides my fingers, grinds down into my palm, and lets out a moan. “Fuck me, Cam… please,” she says breathily, and I debate, just for a second, whether to keep fucking her with my fingers and shooting my load over her tee instead of inside her.Take that, you good-looking, talented, motherfucker.Begrudgingly, I decide I’m far too mature for that kind of behaviour, and with my fingers still inside her from the front, I guide my dick inside her from behind, loving how tight she feels and the moan she emits as I stretch and fill her.

I first fuck then make love to my wife until she’s barely conscious. I’ve left her so exhausted, she mumbles out an order for me to, “Go get some bog roll!”

“Bog roll?” I ask. “Really, George?”

“Fuck off.”

“Not ladylike,” I call out as I head into our bathroom.

“I have your cum dripping out my Mildred. Not feeling particularly ladylike, babe.”

“Fuck me.” I chuckle as I grab a box of tissues from beside the sink.

“Just did that!”