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I was so wet. My nipples tingled. I needed him so badly. Where was he? What was taking so long? Didn't he know that I needed him?

I lightly touched my nipples through my thin cotton shift, the only thing I was wearing. Their hardness gave testimony to the intensity of my desire.

Dinner was warm on the stove, but I knew that I would probably have to reheat it. No way would I delay the ultimate physical pleasure for simple nourishment. I knew I should feed him first, but the throbbing in my nether regions would probably not be denied. I hoped he wasn't hungry.

I checked the time; he wasn't late. No telling my body that, though! As I sat in the sofa, I squeezed my thighs together, trying fruitlessly to calm the pulsing at their juncture.

What was taking so long? How dare he call from the office and describe in explicit detail the ways and means that he would use to bring me to orgasm, then take his own sweet time in getting here?

The imp on my shoulder was beginning to whisper that maybe it would be better if he was hungry. After all, an hour or so of hunger pangs was light punishment for the two hours of aching need that I'd endured since his oh so sensual phone call.

Just then, I heard the car pull up outside. I hastily made my way to the front door, yanked it open and fell into his arms, even as he let his briefcase fall to the floor. We kissed passionately, my breasts enjoying some relief as they were crushed against the familiar warmth of his body. We came up for air and I moaned, then I began to pant desperately as I hung on to his neck for dear life, the weight-sustaining power of my knees having long surrendered to the greater power of my desire to be entirely at his mercy.

Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples, for I am faint with love.

He tugged at my arm, and we raced to the bedroom, where our clothes were quickly discarded. As he gripped my naked body, I rested my head against his shoulder and moaned with a mixture of contentment and anticipation. I reached for his member and gently massaged it, feeling his body shudder in response. He lightly pushed me toward the bed and I fell backward, the reassuring weight of his body descending on me simultaneously. His lips found a nipple and would not let go and I could not contain the noises emanating from my throat or indeed the thrashing of my head. He began to roll my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger and I cried out in earnest, overwhelmed by exquisite sensations. He wouldn't stop, and my thrashing and babbling intensified. My back arched, my chest straining instinctively towards the source of my pleasure.

Finally, he released my nipples and we rolled so that we were lying face to face on our sides. I extended the arm on which I was lying and again wrapped my hand around his throbbing organ, squeezing and releasing, moving gently up and down. With my other hand, I moved back and forth between his nipples while lapping at his chest with my tongue. I was rewarded with a tortured groan. He grasped my shoulder and gently rolled me unto my back. His body followed mine and I eagerly spread my legs as his lower half settled between them.

My hand guided his maleness to my sopping opening and the wail that accompanied his entry was the first of a continuing series of cries that poured unbidden from my enraptured lips:

"Oh, baby. Yes, baby. Yeeeess!! Yeeeeess!" I cried.

As our hips ground together rhythmically, I begged, "Harder! Faster! Deeper! Yeeeesss!!"

He pulled out, and a sob of bereavement was torn from my throat. Pretty soon, however, my body rejoiced again, as he had placed me on my side and entered me from behind, leaving room for him to caress my boobs and other super-sensitive places. I was in Heaven ... well, almost.

It didn't take long for our excitement to again reach fever pitch and before I knew it, I was screaming as my body went into spasms. Shortly thereafter, my insides were sprayed with his hot, life-giving essence, setting off a second round of uncontrollable shudders and groans from me.

As we spooned contentedly, dinner forgotten for the time being, I breathed a heartfelt prayer: "Thank you, Jesus!" And behind me, my husband the preacher whispered, "Amen!"

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

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