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This entry concerns what I do with my hubby on a typical weekend day when the kids are away. If you want to get a background on our relationship, I recommend reading the first part, The Ultimate Wife.
For those of you too lazy to go look for the other story, let me introduce myself. My name is Jennifer, but I go by Jen. I’m a 41-year-old housewife and mother of two preteen boys, which you’d think would make me the least attractive of the litter, but you haven’t seen me. Despite my two pregnancies, I am in good shape for my age. Dark auburn hair, green eyes, thick lips, smooth olive skin, a nice solid hourglass shape, and a heart-shaped ass. My legs are slender and graceful, complimenting my 5’6″ frame, and I proudly carry a set of 40DD breasts out front (one of the benefits of nursing two children). I’ve done my kegel exercises religiously, and despite delivering two rather healthy boys vaginally, I can still squeeze the heck out of my hubby’s cock with my talented pussy.
But aside from those rather obvious attributes, my hubby really thinks my hands should win some sort of humanitarian prize. They are soft and gentle, lightly veined, with long, tapered fingers ending in sculpted nails. I always thought they were large and awkward as a teenager, but I grew into them gracefully, and they’ve had lots of practice caring for the people in my life.
My hubby is a striking 6’5″ blond, blue-eyed god, and I easily fall in love with him every day. Especially when I’m tending to his thick 7.5″ erection!
Those who read the first story know that my passion is my hubby, his health and his pleasure. Nothing makes me more excited than to take care of hubby’s every physical need… it fills me with an indescribable light-headed joy… a sensation of power, not in a malevolent sense, but like a maternal protectiveness. It’s hard to describe, really. So I thought I’d offer instead to describe a typical weekend day when the boys are off at sleepovers and we have the house to ourselves.
From the moment I wake up next to my lovely man, I’m thinking of all the wonderful sensations I will provide for him (and for me!). The first thing I do is reach over to slide my hand across his naked thigh and reach for his sleeping member. It doesn’t take much to arouse his penis – it’s like we have an arrangement: I touch penis, penis gets hard; I look at penis, penis gets hard. It’s simple, but it works. I gently caress my husband’s warm, ever growing penis and fondle his testicles, which begin to roll around and rise up in his scrotum. A low moan escapes his lips and he mutters something about having to use the toilet. “Ohh, poor baby,” I console him, still petting his aching erection, “then we’ll have to do something about this so you can pee.” I gently pull him over so that he is now facing me, and kiss him passionately, my hands still pleasuring his swollen penis and bloated sac. “Let me suck your penis, baby.”
And down I go. I feel my nipples begin to stiffen as my soft lips accept his poor, aching head into my warm mouth. My left hand firmly holds his balls while my right hand grips the base of his cock. It’s so thick and pulsing heat with every throb, and I feel my juices start to run between my legs as the large purple knob pushes into my loving mouth over and over. My only thought is how much I want to relieve him of his semen. Again and again my tongue swirls around the frenulum on the underside of his penis, and his breathing gets more and more elevated. “Oh shit,” he gasps. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuuuckkkk…” I love making him lose control and I keep up my suction. His dick is simply NOT leaving my mouth until it has released its semen. Suddenly his sigh becomes a cute little whimper, as I feel his testes contract and pull up toward his body cavity, and the fabulous cock in my hand bucks and convulses. I brace myself for a flood of semen in my mouth, and he doesn’t disappoint me. A good half-dozen spurts of warm fluid fills my mouth and I gulp it down dutifully, even though it makes my eyes water. And while he’s cumming in my mouth, I’m moaning past his cock and clamping my thighs together in my own climax!
Our frenzy begins to slow down, but I keep his cock firmly held in my hands and mouth until I’ve sucked every drop of semen from it. I finally pull my mouth away and smile up at him. He looks exhausted, poor thing. “Good boy,” I offer as praise for a job well done. He quivers a little, still sensitive from his orgasm, and kisses me on the top of my head. “You are fucking amazing, Jen. I love you so much.” And my heart melts then and there. We’re not even out of bed yet, and already I’ve brought my man pleasure, boosted his ego and self esteem, asserted my authority as his caretaker, and had an orgasm of my own! Not bad for a few minutes work. Then he winks at me. “But now I need to pee!”
Laughing, we both leap out of bed, and I pull a short silk robe over my wobbling breasts, which are pretty flushed from my recent climax, and Esat travesti my nipples are jutting out like long pencil erasers. Hubby dashes naked for the bathroom, but I am hot on his heels. This has become one of my favorite things to do with my hubby. I know it may sound strange, but it’s such a great bonding experience for us, I just can’t let the opportunity slide. He moves into position before the toilet and lifts the lid, but before he can urinate, I move up behind him, big soft breasts pressing into his back. My right hand goes to grasp his tumescent penis, while my left hand snakes down to support his balls. It takes him a bit of concentration to get his very badly-needed pee stream going, but when it does, it sprays like a garden hose on high. It feels amazing, rushing through this organ which just moments ago was filling my hungry mouth with a totally different fluid! I marvel at the male anatomy and every time I aim his penis toward the toilet and help him in this very private function, I’m amazed more and more. When he’s finally done ejecting the last drips, I firmly squeeze his penis between my thumb and index finger, wringing it free of any last remnants of urine. Then I shake it gently, giggling at the way I can make it wave and flop in my grasp.
Then it’s shower time. On weekdays, I let hubby shower alone, then I dry him and give his penis a thorough inspection, and then I massage aloe lotion into the head of his circumcised cock, and I don’t stop until he spurts for me. But on weekends I join him in the shower. My husband understands it gives me a huge amount of pleasure to wash his body and care for his various needs, so on these days without other distractions, he allows me to fully worship and adore him. I wash his hair, then soap his body and scrub him gently, top to bottom. I also let him wash me, and all he has to do is soap up my tits before I’m squirming again. He will gently pinch and pull at my nipples, making them stand out almost comically, and with a single skilled hand down from my pubic mound to my clitoris, he has me shuddering in my own orgasm again. Of course I can’t let him get away from my playtime, and I take special care of his genitals in the shower. I soap his penis and testicles skillfully, rubbing my hands around his glans, then down between his legs behind his scrotum. Before long, I sink to my knees and take him into my mouth again. For some reason, I find that if the first couple orgasms I give my hubby are oral, he doesn’t get quite so worn out by my further demands on him, and we can play more often on these days. So I go to work on this lovely monster of his manhood, using my full lips and swirling tongue to coax another load from him.
By this time, the hot water is usually gone, and we get out of the shower and towel off. He usually takes care of his own legs and hair, but only until I get wrapped up in a towel for my body and one for my hair. Then I demand control of his drying, and make sure he’s fully water-free. Here we are in our bathroom, me sitting on the toilet lid, my own body wrapped in a towel, my gorgeous naked hubby standing before me, his penis and balls offered to me for care. It is at this time that I just drink in the moment, savoring the awesome, womanly power of having my husband submit his pleasure to me. I feel such powerful love and maternal care for him that I get this sort of ache deep within my pussy.
After patting his genitals dry with the towel, I just hold his penis in one hand, cradling his balls in the other. I just stare at it as it lays semi-erect in my pleasure-giving hands, sometimes pulsing or moving on its own. He knows he can trust me to do right by him, that I will never hurt him. But he also knows that I am a strict wife, and I will push him to his limits, which he has never hesitated to thank me for. This is where I get serious, and where the day takes a whole new turn.
“I love your penis, baby,” I coo at him, my eyes never leaving the splendid piece of flesh in my hands. “You know I’m going to give it a workout today.”
His voice is a little hesitant, but he mutters a “y-yes.” Which I find completely adorable. His penis twitches to life in my hand, but I just continue to hold it gently and examine the clean pink exterior and slightly reddened head. I gently run a finger around the brown circumcision scar, and he shudders with a slight moan. I’m instantly wet again, squirming slightly on the toilet as his cock begins to stiffen.
“First things first,” I say, reaching for the bottle of aloe body lotion and pumping it three times into my palm. “Circumcised boys need special attention to their exposed penis heads. I need to moisturize your poor cock.” I find that when I tell him exactly what I’m going to do in a very maternal, authoritative tone, he achieves maximum excitement very quickly, and is usually very easy to bring to ejaculation.
I grip hubby’s penis in my left hand, stretching any loose penile skin toward the Kızılay travesti base, totally isolating the now throbbing head. Then I go to work, swirling the lotion around and around his big pink knob. Hubby’s legs quiver and he lets out a moan. I know this is incredibly intense on his penis, especially since he’s already ejaculated twice already. But I’ve had years of practice, and this is the progression that works to our maximum benefit. I look up at him with a smiling concern. “Does that tickle on your penis, baby? Hmmm? Is Jen making your penis tickle?” Poor hubby can only grunt and gasp as his legs begin to buckle. I don’t let up my assault on his poor exposed knob. I make an O with my thumb and index finger and run it up and down over the head of his cock, just past the sensitive coronal ridge and then back up over the meaty head and tip. Over and over, cooing encouragement the whole time. “Mmmmm, it’s okay baby. I’ll make it all better. I’ll take care of your cock, sweetie. You just let go and squirt, honey. Just think how good it will feel when you let go and squirt…”
Between my motherly encouragement and the intense headplay, hubby soon lets out a surprised yelp like a frightened puppy and his beautiful penis begins to pulse and shoot. This is the big load of the day. The first two are usually good, but when he climaxes with this kind of stimulation, he gives six or seven good blasts at very high velocity. Some of it splats on my neck just above the towel and begins to drip down into my cleavage. Some of it shoots past my face and I can hear it hit the bathroom wall behind me. The rest of it goes right into the towel-covered mounds of my breasts. The moment he starts to cum, I stop the onslaught on his glans and begin to milk his penis from the base. I look down lovingly at the drooling penis in my firm hand, and notice the flared ridge around the fleshy head. It looks so angry, and yet, I know just how to make it happy again.
While hubby calms down, I firmly squeeze every last drop of semen from his penis, and plant a thick-lipped kiss on the tip. Then, while he collects his wits, I gaze up at him, smiling at the wonderful control I wield in our relationship, simply by giving him pleasure… no, forcing him to accept pleasure, because he trusts me to know how much he can handle. I know his penis better than he does, because I’ve been making it ejaculate for twenty years (and I might add, twenty years in which he has only ever brought himself to orgasm when we were geographically apart).
“Good boy,” I grin at him, “you gave mama a big load, didn’t you?” I chuckle, watching his eyes roll back in his skull. This was obviously a very intense orgasm, and he is still in no condition to speak. It doesn’t matter, really. The talking just intensifies the session for both of us. “Your penis head looks so big, honey. Did it like my attention?” He nods weakly. “Would you like more?” I ask, knowing full well he couldn’t take it so soon. He flashes a frightened look and whispers, “Please, no. Don’t.”
My pussy throbs as I get that surge of maternal power. “Baby, who knows what’s best for your penis?” I give it a firm squeeze to drive home my point.
“Y-you do,” he sighs.
“You know I could stroke you like that all day if I thought it was good for you, but I love you and don’t want to hurt you. I’ll give you some time to rest. But I did say I was going to give your penis a workout, and I meant it.” He nods, and I squeeze my thighs together in a near miss orgasm, which I don’t let him see. It’s very important for the day to progress under my direction, so he doesn’t get distracted now that his testicles have been significantly emptied.
“Now you just stand there and let me put my own lotion on.” I remove the semen splattered towel from around my breasts and mop up the cum from my neck and chest. Then I take the same aloe lotion and put several pumps into each hand. I work it slowly into my hands, arms and shoulders, then massage it into my large, round breasts. After the ejaculation hubby just gave, my nipples are still protruding a good inch and a half, and the areolae are puckered and swollen. I use this time to fully work the lotion in, pulling and squeezing at my erect nipples.
I feel the rush of blood to my womb again, and I gaze at hubby’s poor, worked-over penis as it dangles helplessly in front of my chest. I see a small twitch and pulse from his cock as it begins to harden again – he must be surprised that it is coming back so soon. It’s all the visual stimulation I need, and another orgasm rockets through my breasts and down through my clitoris. While I’m cumming, I take one hand to pull hubby closer so I can put his expanding penis in my mouth and suck it as I continue to spasm. This is a good one!
We return to the bedroom where I begin to dress. I allow hubby a T-shirt if he wants, but under no circumstances is he to wear anything on his lower half. For the rest of the day, I will have Alsancak travesti full and unrestricted access to his genitals, and I will push them to their limits of pleasure. I, however, choose a cotton nursing bra (which still fits), a black V-neck long sleeve shirt, jeans and simple black pumps. I keep the flaps of the nursing bra down, so the shirt totally displays my plump torpedoes and distended nipples without actually showing anything. This disparity in clothing always has an arousing effect on hubby, as well as driving home the maternal authority I command.
I prepare a nice breakfast in the kitchen, and hubby stands nearby, his erection wiggling with every movement. We chat about mundane things, but every so often, I reach down and squeeze his penis, just to reassure him who is in charge of it and that it will not be ignored. We share a pleasant breakfast together, with much fondling between bites of eggs and bacon. When we are done, I tell him to go wait for me on the couch in the sun room while I stack the dishes, as I forgot something very important. My man obeys immediately – he knows it will be worth it!
I keep lotion in just about every room in the house, not only to moisturize my own skin, but to help relieve hubby. Even so, the sun room has about five bottles of various brands, and a ready supply of hand towels in the cabinet. The sun room is where something very primal and nurturing takes place: hubby’s intensive testicle massages. I enter the room, my pumps clicking on the tile floor. The room stays warm pretty constantly, so it’s easily the most comfortable room to work over my poor naked hubby. He waits for me by the sofa, and I immediately push up my sleeves and sit down next to where he is standing. “I can’t believe I made you cum three times today and didn’t massage your poor aching testicles.” I pull him down so that he kneels straddling my lap, giving me perfect access to his swollen sac. “This is so important – I’m sorry baby.”
He leans over me, resting his arms on the back of the sofa as I gently begin a 10 to 15 minute very intensive massage of the testicles and perineum. I gently roll each ball around with my fingers, feeling for any lumps or hardness that could be testicular cancer. I gently run my thumb and forefinger together up the spermatic cords in the back, and knead between his legs on the perineal area, up to his anus. I then encircle his ball sac by making an O with my fingers and gently stretch everything downward. Then, while I have his testes firmly tight in their sac, I tickle and scratch the bottom of it with my clear, manicured nails. This always gets a response. I smile, noting the condition of his penis.
“Honey, your penis is erect, and seems to be leaking. This was supposed to be balls only, but I see I am going to have to make Mr. Penis spray again.” I giggle, gently slapping his balls with my soft, cupped hand. He jumps and flinches a bit, but I soothe them immediately, and then reach for whichever bottle of lotion I feel like using at this given time. On this occasion, it’s a tropical coconut blend that happens to be edible, because I have plans…
“Mr. Penis wants more attention,” I chuckle as I smooth a handful of lotion over his erect circumcised cock. “So more attention he will have!” This time I’m in no hurry, and I don’t need to concentrate intense stimulation on the head of the penis. This is fun, gentle and playful. I flick his cock with my fingers, I wave it around like a sword, I bend it down and let it go, making it flip up to smack his tummy with a wet ‘whack!’ I talk in soothing tones and lovingly stroke his penis, and soon enough he is spraying a small but lusty load into my hand and across my chest. Although not the amount of previous loads, some hits my cleavage and slides down, while another spurt leaves a glistening stripe on my left breast. I slow my stroking and hold his penis firmly but lovingly, praising his performance. “Oh, that’s my boy. That’s my good boy. You gave mama a good squirt, didn’t you?” Oddly, we never use ‘mama’ as a term of endearment in any other context except parenting, but for some reason when I’m working my wonderful husband’s body over, it just comes out.
I gently squeeze his shaft and run my hand up to the head. He shivers. “Does that tickle your penis? Is it sensitive?” All he can offer is a groan, and I know I’ve got him where I want him. From this point out, I can do anything to his penis and he won’t resist or complain.
“Come up here and let me suck on your penis. I know it’s sensitive, but let mama soothe it with her mouth.” I must have made him ejaculate the rest of his willpower along with his semen, because he rises up immediately, offering his sore and throbbing penis to my warm and inviting mouth. I roll the engorged knob around on my tongue, applying suction to the shaft. He tastes like coconut and fresh semen, and I feel my crotch begin to warm up again. After about five or ten minutes of oral attention, I move him down to lay his head in my lap and I pull my shirt off, revealing my 40DD breasts with their large nipples sticking through the flaps of the nursing bra. “My nipples can’t take it anymore,” I tell him. “Baby needs to suck on mama’s big breasts for a while.”
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