Hot Dog with relish

It felt like the night before Xmas, I was so excited for morning to cum that I couldn’t sleep. My eyes popping open incessantly, hoping to catch the breaking dawn.

Restlessly, I rolled from side to side, stared at the ceiling, flopped on my belly, and even tried to relieve my growing arousal with my trusty leg pillow, but I couldn’t focus on anything else, except opening my present, just hours away.

Given the summer heat and humidity, we slept in the nude, foregoing even a top sheet, letting our ceiling fan work its magic, cooling our bodies with its gentle steady breeze.

Laying next to my peacefully sleeping Hubby, facing each other, I was mesmerized by his muscular chest expanding and contracting rhythmically in slumber.

My eyes traced his powerful silhouette downward, descending his six pack like rungs of a ladder.

Daybreak must be soon. His morning wood was swollen and stiff, inflated past its rating, its skin was taut under pressure. The purple helmet pulsing with each heartbeat.

Already moist from my dreams and fantasies about what this morning would bring, I felt a rush of lubrication flood my aching pussy.

I heard our hound stirring at the foot of our bed. Waking hour was imminent, for both of them.

Shimmying myself down the bed, when I was eyeball to cock eye, I curled up and stared longingly at his impressive appendage.

Morning wood was an amazing daily phenomenon to me. The mind is offline but the body is ready for mounting.

Careful not to disturb his slumber, I reached out and encircled his shaft with my index finger and thumb as far as I could go. It was hot to the touch. I stroked lightly, adding another finger with each pass, until my entire hand gripped his manhood.

Applying just a bit more pressure, and lengthening my pumping from tip to root, pre-cum bubbled up in preparation for greasing any available orifice.

Licking my lips, I glanced up at his face, his eyelids were still closed.

Leaning in I inhaled his aroma, the elixir of testosterone and the telltale pungent umami of his now dripping cock head.

Bringing my other hand into play, I massaged his laden balls as I stroked his length, increasing my cadence, pausing at the tip every few strokes to thumb his leaking hole, and smear its accumulating lube across its now glistening flaring helmet.

His eyelids still closed, I dared to replacement my thumb with my tongue, and began tentatively lapping at his fountain, taking long licks along the underside of his swollen cock, my tongue chasing my hand down his shaft.

My pussy was on fire, my own juices, flowing between my puffy lips.

I had to have him even though I had another rendezvous on tap.

Quickening my cadence to double-time, I gobbled down on his dribbling one-eyed monster, tasting his creamy goodness coating my eager tongue. I bobbed up and down, stretching my mouth and my throat to take him in as far as my anatomy allowed.

Controlling my breathing, I took him entirely into my throat, my nose bent against his pubic patch and my chin bumping his balls.

Pulling off him, his rope recoiling enough so my flaring nostrils could feed my burning lungs, I could sense his literally growing excitement.

A few more strokes and a couple of deep throated bobs and his jism would be coursing down my throat into my belly. Not a drop spilled. Not my first time.

I had a plan but so did he.

Just as I had swallowed him to his root, his big mitts cupped my head from behind, pinning my impaled mouth to his crotch.

My trance broken by this unexpectedness, I panicked. And began to thrash about.

Undeterred he rolled over on my head, pinning it between his hips and the mattress. His prick pressing even deeper down my throat.

I lost count as my awareness began to fade to black, but maybe a baker’s dozen or more thrusts, my head stringing back up with the mattress into his forceful downward thrusts, unleashed a torrent of his morning goo, flooding into me.

A cool rush of life sustaining air perked me up instantly and my first impulse was to cough-up whatever was in my throat but he sent his delivery too deep in me to matter.

He rolled off my used body, onto his back, thanked me the surprise, and reminded me that I had somewhere to be.

Wiping the corners of my mouth and chin with my index fingers, I hid my guilty look behind the back of my hands.

As if I’d forget, he admonished me, “The hound needs to go outside.”

Full from hubby’s load, I had another place that needed filling.