Mick stared at Rosalind when she made that declaration. It was so amazing to him that he had to make sure he had heard her correctly. “You’ll be willing to sign a pre-nup?” he asked her.
Roz looked at him. He seemed stunned. “What’s so stunning about it?” she asked. “Of course I’ll be willing. I would imagine a man in your position had better do a pre-nup. You don’t know if I’m a gold digger.”
Mick smiled.
“I’m serious, Mick!”
And then he laughed and began walking to her, tossing his towel aside.
Roz felt the heat as his big cock dangled in front of him as he walked, as if his already heightened sexuality needed any more emphasis. “I don’t want your money,” she said, “I want you!”
And Mick leaned her back on the bed, putting his arms inside of her open robe as he got on top of her. And he began kissing her.
“I’m serious, Mick,” she said between his kisses.
“I’m serious too,” Mick said, as he kissed her.
“I don’t want your money. I want you.”
“I don’t want your body,” Mick said, as his kisses trailed down her face and neck, to her breasts. “I want you.” He sucked them. “Although right now, I want your body too.”
Roz smiled as he kept moving down with his kisses. Until he was off of her and his face was between her legs. When she felt his first lick, her smile was gone.
“Oh, dear,” she said, remembering just how much she missed him too.
Mick felt the fire too, as he inhaled that aromatic scent he loved and licked her with slow, probing licks. He moaned as he licked her, as his every lick made her * wetter, until not only was his tongue licking it, but his mouth was eating that wetness. And he ate her hard.
But when he stopped, and moved back on top, ready to enter her, she pushed him off of her. Then she got on top of him, and began kissing him passionately. Even with her taste still on his mouth, she kissed him. He squeezed her ass and returned her passion. And then it was her time to move down, and suck the member he held between his legs.
Mick opened his legs wide as Roz gave him head the way he loved to receive it. Nobody but Rosalind did him this way. Only Rosalind could make his entire body, a body that was ready to fuck, relax completely under her masterful guidance. She didn’t lollipop-lick him. She didn’t wrap her hand around his rod and speed-lick him like those women who didn’t know what the fuck they were doing loved to do. But Rosalind kiss-sucked him. Her every lick was as deeply penetrating as a long, sweet kiss. And then she deep-throated him, she took him all in, and worked it while it was in there. And when she pulled back out, and circled her tongue around his dick-head, with the tip of her tongue romancing the tip of his dick, he let out a hard moan that caused pre-cum to ooze out just from her skill alone.
Before more released, he had to pull her on top of him, put his fully aroused, wet dick inside of her, and fuck her for the few minutes they had left. Because he knew, after that kind of head, he was not going to be able to hold on much longer.
And he was right. Roz rode his cock hard. She rode that long, stiff rod the way a drill rode a hole in the ground. Mick squeezed her nipples and squeezed her sweet brown breast mounds as she rode him unlike she had ever rode him before. He placed his hand on the back of her neck, and pulled her face down to his, and kissed her as hard as she was riding him. They were fucking for the joy of it. They were fucking so hard, with such extreme passion, that they both came with a thunderous cum. Mick’s muscular arms showed every vein as he lifted his body and poured into her. Her wet vagina became a * flood as he poured and pounded her, and she pulsated with spasms, and continued to ride him.
“I’m cumming, Mick. I’m cumming!”
Her orgasm was so intense that she couldn’t stop crying her elation. Because he was putting it on her now. He was pouring so much of his sticky, silky love into her silky-wet * that it was too much. It began dripping out of her.
And he couldn’t stop fucking her. Even as he poured his last into her, his cock continued to stroke. Because this was his lady and he needed her to understand that. He wanted to express himself through his cock. He wanted her to understand that he was deeply into her, figuratively and literally, unlike he had ever been into any other human being alive.
She understood it. She understood it by the way he continued to make love to her. She understood by the way she continued to feel his cock would not quit. She was overflowing with understanding. They had a special thing going on. They were on one accord. She was so filled with that feeling of specialness, of being Mick Sinatra’s special one, that she was pouring out more of her own vaginal juices even as he poured into her.
And when it was over, and she collapsed on top of him and into his arms, they both felt overwhelmed by the experience. They could have remained where they were all night long.
Only they couldn’t. Because the doorbell rang. Because just as quickly as they had forgotten all others and were focused on each other, they remembered the children.