Wet Wife Novels & Stories

Given his sexual nature, it took everything for Tripp not to get up and grab his wife, throw her to his bed, and take her however he pleased. She slipped her fingers into the waistband of her black panties and pushed them down her feet, kicking the thin material away. She knew she was soaking wet and Tripp could possibly see the wetness pooling between her thighs as she was waxed clean. She watched her husband carefully as she sauntered closer to the bed. “You’re so beautiful. Beautiful doesn’t even fit the right description, my wife.” Tripp quivered and groaned, losing his self-control as he felt like he had waited for fucking eternity.

She looked into his eyes in panic and said,"I want to..." He waited for a moment to let her complete her word but then seeing her stopped at her track he asked," what happened?". She said, feeling his hardness on her, looking at him with his lower body attached to her in embarrassment. "I think i...I am wet,I need to use the washroom",she stammered in embarrassment. His eyes widened and he looked at her in disbelief. How did his wife get this much extavort to say this, and if she is wet then why does she need to go to the bathroom? They can continue what they were doing.

I started to look at the wife, who was way more interesting than the game; she wasn't getting much reading done, shaking her head at her husband's discomfort and smiling at me, a smile I could easily read. She appreciated the predicament I'd put hubby in and was enjoying watching him squirm. Which he did, literally. And soaked his shirt with sweat. And drank more beers, and cursed his team, the idiot coaches, the fat-assed linemen, even the sportscasters and the cheerleaders, who had suddenly turned ugly. WU mounted a long, slow drive that netted nothing but used up eight minutes on the clock. During the drive the wife went into the bathroom. When she came out later she had changed from the

She vibrated and jerked as I continued to play with her hotspot. “Klaus,” she moaned, “I’m wet.” “Are you now?” I chuckled, reveling in my ability to shoot my wife’s sexual through the stratosphere, let’s see. One hand strayed to her boobs, the other traveled further down the haven of pleasure between her legs. I didn’t have to prod her before her legs opened wide, and I slowly slid my hands through her crotch. Indeed, she was wet. Probably wetter than I could remember. Our prolonged absence from each other surely had a huge role to play in that. Her lips were puffed and slimy, and I made a show of clamming them between my fingers, making her wetter.

Dawn pulled her face up and quickly climbed on top of me, mounting my staff then leaning over and pressing her huge tits against my chest. I watched JT take up position between my legs and guessed what was coming next. "She wants a taste of what Beth got. Who am I to say no?" JT explained, and I felt his tiny, 100 pound waif of a wife shiver as he buried his long cock inside her butt. "Stop. Just hold it there," she cried out to her husband, slowly growing used to her newest invader.

I cannot make love to my wife, but I can do other things. Oh... I heard her groan. "Yes, I hear her in a breathless voice. Wade, I did not know she was getting up. I'd better hurry up before we get interrupted. I am looking for her underwear. Oh, I chuckled. I do not feel any underwear. Oh, that! My little red. So, I spread her yummy and still so tight pussy open for my tongue and fingers. I take a finger to test if her pussy is wet. Oh, wow, she is soaking wet. Damn! I bend down, I smell her scent, and it's the fucking amazing scent.

“Everything with you becomes about us.” “Someone is threatening you.” The line went quiet. Damien lowered his voice. “I don't know who it is yet, but until I do, you're staying somewhere I can protect you.” Sophia swallowed. “I don't need you to protect me.” “Maybe not,” Damien replied. “But you're my wife now.” Her heart tightened at those words. “We're not really married.” “To everyone else, we are.” “And to you?” Damien paused. He didn't know why that simple question suddenly felt so difficult to answer.

She gasped and moaned, placing her head on the cushions, slowly rising her ass. “Damn, your friend is so tight,” I let it slip, looking at my wife’s reddish face. I could see her hand moving faster. Chomzy began moving her ass too, throwing it back, hastening her pace, and now I barely had to move. Her ass was coming to me. “Slap it.” She said, “I want your wife to see your handprint on my ass,” I was getting close to cum, but I could not stop. Just two more minutes, I thought to myself. My wife was now licking her fingers, juices dripping onto her boobs.

I was accompanying my mother-in-law to our family-owned hospital for a follow-up appointment. She had developed a lifelong gynecological condition from complications during my wife's birth. A muscular man passed by, recoiled in disgust, and shuffled to the other side of the aisle before shouting for a nurse. "What kind of hospital is this? You just let any filthy person sit in the waiting area? This old hag reeks. Is nobody going to do anything about it?" The nurse hurried over and recognized my mother-in-law. She held up her hands. "Sir, this patient is here for a scheduled follow-up. We can't turn her away." The man lost it. "What part of that don't you understand? Take this old hag

My roommate, John Swift, asked in shock, “Pete, are you throwing that away? I thought you cherished that photo a lot.” I shook my head and cut Bella out of the family portrait. I tore it into pieces. John seemed to understand. “Pete, is your wife alive?” I pulled out my phone. Someone had sent me a text two weeks ago. [Bella’s still alive.] There was a photo attached to the message. It was a selfie of Bella and Carlson. Two weeks ago, I found out that my wife, who had supposedly been dead for five years, was still alive. When I first found out the news, I could not even sleep.