My Life With You

We moved in together after a year and a half in a long distance relationship. Now, I wake up every morning with him on top me. He starts pounding my pussy first thing in the morning, like a wolf in heat. We go at it for half an hour, to get our juices running. He pulls out before he cums, and we take a shower together. While the warm water pours on our bodies, he gropes my breasts, my buttocks, even puts his fingers inside of my naughty holes. He sometimes can’t restrain himself, and pounds me against the wall until I scream.

After we’ve showered, I go on the bed with his dick in my hand, and help him slide in my slit, in whatever position I prefer that day. We fuck for as long as he can last, without a condom, until he shoots his morning load deep into my womb. We do this routinely, because that’s our contract.

We talked a lot about our future sex life during our long distance relationship phase. When we revealed our fantasies to each other, we discovered our astonishing sexual compatibility. I fantasized about sex with a feral beast, and he embodied the beast. I liked unprotected sex, and he obsessed with creampie sex. Things got so heated, soon our every online conversation was practically a masturbation session. We would have obscene orgasms throughout the day thinking about the things we had said.

Due to geographical distances, we knew it would take time before we could be physical together. That didn’t matter. We were creative, and patient, we used all available technological tools to have a fulfilling sex life during the transitional phase. We were online entrepreneurs, which allowed us to be mobile. All we needed was enough financial success to afford the plane tickets, lodging, food, and other necessities of travel. Ultimately, we would buy multiple residences around the world, and travel together while enjoying life to the fullest.

From the start, I made it clear to him, that good sex was my top priority in a relationship. He took time to come to terms with what that meant. It meant a lot of work for him. He couldn’t own me completely, unless he shared me. I had fantasies of having sex with multiple men simultaneously. This meant that in order to keep me loyal, he’d have to facilitate the occasional group sex event. He came around eventually, realizing the enormous bargaining power he gained from embracing my desires.

In exchange for his commitment to my pleasure, I let him rule me. His number one rule was “no panties, ever”. I threw away all my panties. I gave my jeans to charity. I burned my pajamas. The only cloths he allowed me to wear around my waist were skirts. I also wore dresses and nightgowns, but never any panties. He wanted my pussy easily accessible.

I would do chores around the house with my cum-stuffed pussy exposed, wearing nothing but an easily removable miniskirt. His cum dripped on my thighs, sometimes making little wet droplets on the floor. I never knew when he’d pounce me for another romp, nor the lengths to which our session would extend. He cherished the knowledge that my womb was always harboring his big, spunky load. He would grab me by the hair and sniff my body frequently. If I wasn’t smelling of cum, he’d refill me immediately.

His rules extended to my social life. I had to wear dresses with long skirts to social gatherings, with perfume to cover the musky stench of sex on my skin. Windy weather gave me stress, because the reek from my crotch could reach the nostrils of passersby.

In addition to unprotected sex and no panties, he insisted on keeping a remote-controlled dildo in my pussy. The dildo was kept in place by straps, and was undetectable under my skirt. I had to wear it everywhere I went. When he wanted my hole moist for a session, he ramped up the buzz. Half an hour later, my juices would be leaking on my trembling legs. He would come to me, remove the dildo and ram into me from behind, until he dispatched another creamy ball of baby juice in there.

I had always been submissive, but with him, I turned into a compliant cum bucket in a matter of months. He kept me in a constant state of arousal using every conceivable trick. He addicted me with orgasms, sextoys, and porn, systematically removing my sexual inhibitions. He was training me into his ideal personal whore, a living fucktoy he could use as his on-demand cum depository.

I was already satisfied with our sex life, when he suddenly told me, he’d finally finished his search for the perfect group of men that would happily gangbang me in a private sex party. It was just another silly fantasy of mine, but he took it seriously. He actually cherished the idea of unleashing my inner whore for the whole world to enjoy.

We rented a cozy cottage by the lakeside for me, him, and three other guys. The scenario wasn’t exactly what I wanted, because he wouldn’t let me fuck the guys bareback. He insisted the men should wear condoms, until I’d given birth to his second child. It was a smart arrangement that eliminated the risk of sexually transmitted diseases ruining my reproduction plans, but it left me craving for the ultimate experience. Still, that weekend I experienced the best sex I had had up to that point.

After four years of banging each other’s brains out, I was ready to drop birth control. The months leading up to my first birthing were the most intense one-on-one sex of my life. He wouldn’t let me off his dick. Every moment we were together, that he wasn’t limp from cumming, we stayed in intercourse. When my belly started growing, he practically dedicated his life to licking, fingering, and fucking my pussy from morning to night. At around my seventh month of pregnancy, he started arranging weekly gangbangs for me, still with condoms, and filmed the events for our watching pleasure. The sex we had after the bangs made my pussy melt completely.

I gave him two healthy children. Even as the presence of kids restricted our playtime somewhat, we made sure they were busy with sporty hobbies, never around the house too much. We always found the time for play.

I went back on birth control. The condoms were off in our weekend events. We experimented with various group sizes, locations, and scenarios. When we found what I liked, and what he was comfortable with, the gloves were off. The amount of fucking I went through in the years to come was beyond any woman’s wildest dreams. And with him on my side, I never felt dirty.

I was getting fucked on a regular basis for several hours a day, in every orifice, showered in cum, eating cum, creampied in my ass and pussy. As much fun as that was, it wasn’t even the physical part of the sex that made it satisfying. He loved me, and trusted me, and that love unleashed me.

Your happiness is my happiness. This is the life I want with you.

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