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Spitfire

When a husband wants his wife he lets nothing stand in his way.
Eyes wide with shock, Lisa’s head whipped around at the sound of shattering glass; the object having hurtled past her shoulder and collided with the door frame.

“Don’t you walk out on me Lisa, I’m not finished talking about this,” the edgy frustration in Jason’s voice was evident as he stood just inside the dimly lit bedroom.

“You did not just throw that!” Lisa hissed furiously, her green eyes narrowing into emerald slits, as auburn curls swung angrily around her stiff shoulders.

She continued to glare at her husband, as he followed her slowly from the bed room. He stood with arms negligently crossed, one jean clad hip propped up against the door frame.

He’d left the buttons undone, exposing the thin trail of dark hair that disappeared into the valley of worn denim. Damn it, she thought, why couldn’t he have pulled on a shirt? Lisa’s eyes traveled the length of his lean frame, from wide muscled shoulders down to narrow hips.

His slow, cocky grin had her fists clenching. She knew that look far to well, the fire that it could ignite hadn’t abated in the twenty years they’d been married; but so help him, if he tried that on her now, she’d hit him over the head with the fry pan. Her slitted eyes flickered to the cast iron skillet that balanced on the edge of the sink.

Jason watched Lisa’s furious face dart from him to the fry pan and back again, the look conveying exactly how much pleasure she was deriving from whatever evil fantasies were swirling in her devious mind.

That woman does not have a poker face, Jason thought, wisely keeping that little gem to himself. Deciding that discretion was called for, he slowly slouched into the door frame. He was not a stupid man and he knew the signs; his wife was balanced on a knife’s edge.

His little spitfire; alabaster skin surrounded by a cloud of wild, flame coloured ringlets, green eyes, slit like those of an alley cat. He loved her wild like this; but twenty years with this woman had taught him to bide his time. His stance no longer predatory, but definitely alert, he made sure to keep his wife within his line of sight; Lisa had been known to get a little feisty.

“Jason. Tell me that wasn’t my Great Grandmother Lucy’s crystal vase?” Lisa seethed.

She swore she could almost feel her back teeth grinding, as her jaw clenched in frustration. So help me god, she thought, I’m going to kill him.

“Awe honey,” drawled Jason “You know I’d never toss Great Granny's crystal. You’d mount my balls to the wall.” He shot her one his ‘aren’t I cute and don’t you just want to kiss me’ grins.

Lisa’s breath hitched slightly, and a familiar warmth slid seductively between her thighs, damn him.

“Don’t you ‘Awe honey’ me, Jason Elias MacAvoy, or I’ll do more than pin them to the wall. I’ll wear them as freakin’ earrings!”

Jason gulped slightly, oh yeah, she was pissed alright. His little alley cat only threatened to cut off his balls when she’d reached her absolute limit.

Jason kept a bland smile plastered on his face, when all he wanted to do was grin like a god damned idiot; she drove him crazy when she was like this. Seething and wild, he could almost smell the passion oozing from her skin; all he could think of was shoving her up against the wall, flipping her short summer skirt up over that tight little arse, and riding her till she was screaming out her pleasure.

Jason glanced down and cursed slightly at the prominent bulge now riding his thigh, you’re a little early buddy; Lisa is not going to be pleased to see you.

Shifting slightly in the hopes of disguising his untimely erection, Jason moved further into the tiny kitchen. As he closed in on his irate wife, Jason noticed the tight little buds jutting from beneath her white shirt, the mounds of her heaving breasts outlined perfectly by the tight cotton. His temperature spiked and blood pounded solidly throughout his body. His woman was a fucking hot piece of arse, and when she was angry, she fucked like a god damned wildcat.

Jason’s libido screamed into high gear, his cock jumping to attention and pulsing heavily with his every heartbeat. 

With a low growl he cursed, “Fuck it!” He wanted his wife, and he wanted her now; fight or no fucking fight, she was his.

Startled from her preoccupation with the fry pan and the fantasy of lopping her obtuse husband over the head with it, Lisa whipped around to face Jason; tangled red locks flying madly around her face. Recognising the determination on Jason’s face she began to franticly put the table and chairs between her and her stalking husband.

“Oh no you don’t Mister. You can forget it right now. You’ve got a better chance of hell freezing over than putting that..” Lisa’s nose screwed up, and her waving fingers waggled in a disgusted motion at Jason’s now rampant cock “anywhere near me.” She flicked her hair over one shoulder, and stuck her nose defiantly in the air.

Jason literally growled his frustration and redoubled his efforts as he continued to stalk her around the kitchen. Lisa stumbled backward over chairs in her haste to get away, hissing her frustration, when he managed to manoeuvre easily over the same tumbled furniture.

“I’m warning you Jason…seriously; keep your macho shit for another day.”

Lisa’s heart pounded, and if she was honest with herself, it was only partly due to her mad dash around the kitchen. Just hearing Jason growl was enough to have her pussy weeping, but watching him thrust the furniture out of his way while pursuing her, well, that had her empty sex clenching in frustration.

Lisa made a wild dash for the back door, only to be scooped up in her husband’s steely arms. With a most un-lady like screech, she swung wildly in his grasp.

“Put me down, you…you…,” Lisa searched wildly for an appropriate description, but in her frustration words eluded her, "you knucklehead!”

Jason chuckled, “Knucklehead? That’s new.”

“Don’t you laugh at me Jason, I swear…" 

“You’ll swear what, wife?” Jason smirked, as he looked down into Lisa’s flushed and furious face. “Come on Lisa, you’ve got my knees knockin’; what’s my five foot nothing wife going to do to her knucklehead of a husband?” Jason laughed, as Lisa redoubled her efforts to get free.

“Urgh JASON!” Lisa swung around, puffing a red curl from her eyes and glaring up into Jason’s smug face. “Put. Me. Down” she growled, infuriated beyond reason.

In response to her furious wriggling Jason threw Lisa across the kitchen table, flipping her skirt over the rise of her hips and yanking her underwear down to her knees, he delivered three stinging slaps.

“I told you..,” whack, “do not…,” whack, whack,“ walk away from me! ” Lisa could hear the delighted glee in Jason’s voice, as his hand connected with the rounded curve of her rear end.

“Owww, what the….Jason!”

Lisa yelped again as Jason lent over her, the palm of his hand firmly planted between her shoulder blades, he then proceeded to bite the curve of one, peach like, cheek. He growled softly, as his tongue then lapped across the heated flesh. His tongue swirling softly, tracing the red hand print he’d left on her pale flesh. Grasping her hair into a thick knot of curls, Jason yanked her head back.

Furious eyes met his, spitting fire and promising retribution. “Stop it, Jason. I don’t want this and I don’t want you.” She rebelliously spat the last comment at him, her eyes flashing angrily.

Jason’s eyes narrowed, determination etched at the corners of his mouth. “We’ll see about that.”

Lisa’s indignant complaining turned into a soft mewling sound, her back arching, as Jason’s tongue found the dimples at the base of her spine and traveled the full length of her back. Nipping and biting now, as Lisa writhed in frustrated pleasure, a soft “Nooo,” slipping from between her parted lips.

Jason slipped a thick, blunt finger between her thighs and plunged it deep into her weeping slit.

“Are you sure about that baby?” he growled into her neck, his tongue tracing the throbbing pulse just below her ear.

Jason slipped his soaked finger from her heated depths and smeared the nectar along her lips. He chuckled when her sharp teeth tried to remove the offending digit at the knuckle.

“Screw you.” Lisa snarled, wrenching her trapped arms from under her body.

“It’s going to be my pleasure, girl.” The echo of his hand meeting her raised bottom rang out throughout the confines of the tiny kitchen, along with her startled gasp of indignant pleasure.

Jason pressed his chest against Lisa’s back, holding her still while his lips nuzzled the curve of her shoulder. He continued to grind his solid, aching length against the bare flesh of her upturned bottom, enjoying the naked curves writhing beneath him.

With a less than gentle move, he wedged his hard thigh between Lisa’s, spreading them wide. Slipping his hand back down between her legs, he couldn’t help groaning softly, as he gently traced the soft folds of her sex.

Drawing out her liquid heat, he repeatedly dipped inside her clenching sheath before painting her hard little clit with her own juices, softly flicking, rolling and pinching, until Lisa’s hips began to twitch and her breath began to quicken.

He ran his rough palm down the satin skin of her inner thigh, slipping her skirt and panties off in the process.

Jason’s hands stilled, as felt the curve of her full bottom press up and back into his groin, a tremor of need ran along his spine, as her hips ground back slowly. He groaned deeply when soft fingers slithered into the opening of his pants, cupping and stroking the rigid length.

Slowly backing away, Jason allowed Lisa to sit up. He couldn’t read her expression, as she slowly rose from where he’d thrown her over the kitchen table, but her eyes were hot and wild. Jason warily watched, as she perched her rear end on the edge of the table top. With great deliberation Lisa shook her wild hair, combed the tangled lengths with her fingertips; Jason’s eyes fixated on the arching of her back and the way her turgid nipples pushed up against her shirt.

Jason was sure his cock was going to burst through the straining denim of his pants when Lisa sucked on the tip of one finger, but then, when she slowly traversed a path to the slick cleft between her slim thighs, he felt the sucker punch of lust straight to his midsection, ripping a groan from deep within his chest.

Lisa’s pouty mouth smirked slightly, as she slowly lent back, coming to rest on bent elbows. Keeping her gaze locked on her husband’s she spread her pale thighs wide and ran a single fingertip along her drenched slit, grazing her clit before slowly dipping and caressing her folds. All the while Jason’s hungry eyes devoured her every move.

Jason felt his stomach clench and tumble, as lust roared through him. When Lisa parted her folds and drove her slim fingers deep into her sex, Jason’s mouth suddenly became parched.

“Jesus.” was all he managed to croak; his hand cupped his rigid length, giving it several long strokes.

Stepping forward, Jason grasped the edges of Lisa’s shirt and with a ruthless yank, sent tiny, white buttons careening around the kitchen, skittering across bench tops and disappearing into dusty corners. He loved that her small breasts didn't need the use of a bra; the handfulls of pale flesh always free and accessible, the hard peaks continually aroused by the constant friction of cloth against the dark tips.

Lisa’s sigh and softly murmured “Fuck.” was lost in the clatter of furniture, as Jason shoved chairs aside in his haste to taste his wife.

His lips locked around the raised peak of Lisa’s breast, teeth dragging across the aching flesh, as he thrust two fingers deep into her clenching pussy. Her faint sighing, “Fuck baby, that’s it. Harder….oh god, don’t stop,” drove him over the edge.

His mouth left a trail of hot, damp kisses down her taunt stomach, where he paused. The sight of her swollen, clenching sex had his cock dripping; clear slick fluid pulsing in a constant stream of need.

He buried his mouth between her thighs, tongue lovingly tracing every fold; his woman, his to fuck, his to love, any fucking way he wanted.

Flipping her once again onto her stomach, Jason gently fondled the globes of firm flesh, the outline of his palm still faintly visible against the whiteness of her arse, he playfully smacked her again, laughing when she flinched and sent a glare back over her shoulder.

“Jason, quit playing about, you promised me that you were going to make me want you. Are you going to get around to that at some point?”

Lisa raised a perfectly arched brow at him, the slightly haughty look failing to quell his enjoyment at seeing his hand print marring her soft skin; in fact it spurred him on.

Jason’s cock was straining within the confines of his jeans; it didn’t take much to slip the turgid length free and even less to guide the head into heated depths of his wife’s grasping sex. Gripping her hips he slid her down onto his cock; one slow, easy glide into her heated depths. Her thighs quivered, as he seated himself fully; her back arching, and in the process pushing the rise of her smooth bottom higher.

Jason took a moment to enjoy the view; two beautiful pale globes slightly flushed from the palm of his hand, her slit wrapped tightly around the thick stalk of his sex, her passion evident by the wet sheen of her fluids coating her thighs and his cock. He watched, as he painstakingly withdrew from her clenching folds; his cock coated in her desire, glistened wetly, before he drove back inside her. Jason clenched his fingers, digging them into the soft flesh of her hips, as he worked his cock in slow pulses between her thighs.

Lisa’s shoulders collapsed onto the table top, as her hand snaked down between her thighs, her agile fingers slipping in and around where she was joined to her thrusting husband, teasing and playing with their joined flesh.

The angle she’d placed herself in forced her bottom higher, leaving her tight little star teasingly on display. Jason took immediate advantage, running his thumb across the puckered entrance again and again, as Lisa mewled and bucked under his gentle stroking.

“Is this what you want sweetheart?” Jason’s voice was only a husky murmur, as his thumb continued to stroke and tease.

Lisa’s inarticulate whimpering caused Jason to smirk “Perhaps I should stop if you’re not going to answer me?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” her growled response earned her a swat on the rump and a delighted chuckle from Jason.

Driving his thumb deep into her puckered star, Jason groaned harshly, as Lisa thrashed on his cock. Her sweat slick skin arching in pleasure, as he drove his thumb deeper into her tight entrance, matching the rhythm of his flesh inside her clenching slit.

Hard and fast he drove into her; her whispered “Oh fuck Jason, that’s it. Harder god damn it!” had him pounding deeper. Lisa glared over her shoulder, her top lip curled, as she snarled “Fuck me.”

Jason’s powerful thrusts shunted Lisa across the table, her body helplessly shuddering, as her orgasm hit out of nowhere.

Reaching forward Jason buried his free hand in the mass of sweaty curls, pulling her head around so he could look into her lust filled eyes. “Mine,” he growled roughly, and proceeded to drive his cock deep inside his wife’s drenched sex.

With his back arching and a ragged groan tearing from his chest, Jason exploded deep inside Lisa’s clenching slit, his hands locked around her wrists, dragging her upright, her back against his chest, as he emptied himself deep within her womb.

Following the rush of his orgasm, Jason collapsed back onto the table, resting heavily against Lisa’s back. Stretching out his fingers, Jason released his wife’s narrow wrists before burying them into her damp hair and dragging her mouth towards his. Their swollen lips came together softly; breath mingling briefly, before Lisa’s breath rushed out on a desperate moan, as her husband’s tongue slid against hers.

When his pulse returned to normal and his breath was no longer coming in ragged pants, Jason smiled at his spitfire and patted her bottom softly, “Now, where were we…oh yeah, don’t ever walk away from me again.”

Dragging her fingers down from where they were tangled in his soft chest hair, Lisa casually twirled her fingers in the nest of tight curls surrounding Jason’s softening cock, tightening her grip she gave an experimental tug.

“Why don’t you quit while you’re ahead Jase, hmmm?” she smiled evilly up into the grimace etched upon her husband’s rueful face. Reaching up she placed a soft kiss against his mouth, as she whispered, “ I love you…knucklehead.”

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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