Page 7 of Devious Whims

Cami turns to watch me over her shoulder, her heated eyes giving me the strength to push through. I pound into her, pushing my cock as deep as I can with each thrust. Her face winces every time I bump into her cervix, and it makes me harder. If I could impale her womb directly and flood it with my seed, I would. I’ve wanted Cami for as long as I can remember, and she’s the only one I’ve imagined as the mother of my children.

I slide my hand between us, rubbing at her clit in jerky movements between strokes. Her body tenses as it builds to another release so soon after the last one.

“Devon, oh god!” she cries out, her head shaking back and forth. Her nails curl into the table, unable to grasp onto anything. I pick up my pace, slamming into her over and over. I know her hips will have bruises after this, but I’m past the point of caring.

“I’m gonna fill you with my cum,” I growl out, my hips snapping erratically.

With one last thrust, I sheath myself to the hilt and unload in her pussy. Wave after wave of my cum splutters inside her and coats her cervix.

Pulling out slowly I stare as her pink pussy lips stretch around my shaft before they close back in as my tip falls from her leaking hole. I tuck my softening cock in my pants and then grab her hips when she starts to move.

“No, you’re staying right there,” I tell her. I grab her knee, sliding it up onto the table as she rises onto her toes with her other foot. It spreads her open further as I watch my cum start to leak from her wet, glistening hole.

“Devon,” she whimpers. I push her dress over her ass, squeezing her cheeks before trailing my fingers down to scoop up my seed and push it back into her. She lets out a breathy moan, and I repeat the action twice.

Adjusting the chair so it’s right behind her, I grab the pancake plate and sit. “I’m going to watch your cunt leak with my cum till I’m done eating. We can’t have you wasting a drop, can we?”

Cami’s pussy clenches in response, forcing a small glob of white to run out of her. I click my tongue, shaking my head as I wipe and press it back into her hole. Sitting back, I cut into my stack and moan at the fluffy cinnamon goodness that melts in my mouth. The taste of her cooking makes my cock twitch with the need to fuck her again.

Cami

When he finishes his food, he sets the empty plate next to me on the table. His fingers trace along my pussy for a moment, admiring his work before he leaves the kitchen without a word. I wait another minute before setting my foot down and rising on shaky legs. Grabbing his plate, I put it in the sink with the rest of the breakfast mess. I would usually clean up immediately, but I have the overwhelming urge to shower.

I’ve wanted Devon for as long as I can remember and having sex with him was as extraordinary as I imagined it would be, but a tight ball of unfamiliar emotion lingers in my stomach. Untying my apron, I lay it on the counter and slowly go upstairs to my bathroom. Devon’s door is shut as I pass it, and I’m sure I won’t see him for the rest of the day or till he wants to be seen.

Warming the shower, I peel off my dress and climb into the steaming water. A sigh escapes me as it cascades over my body, relaxing my tense shoulders. My pussy is sore from the pounding it took from Devon’s huge cock. I love Mike, but he isn’t packing in length or girth. It doesn’t bother me because most of the time he only wants to eat me out and then jack off over me. We have only recently started to be more intimate with penetration and only with the intention to have a baby. I had hoped to have at least one kid before Devon got out. I wasn’t sure if he wanted kids, but I do, and I knew I would eventually leave Mike for him.

I pause finger combing my hair when I realize Devon hadn’t even asked if I was on birth control, but he had been obsessed with keeping his cum inside me the entire time. My mouth dries with hope as I try to process if that means he does want kids.

The bathroom door swings open, slamming against the wall, and I shriek. Devon leans across the frame, crossing his arms as he stares at me.

“What are you doing?” I ask him hesitantly.

His eyes narrow, sliding down my wet body. “What are you doing? You better not be washing out my cum.”

I shake my head. “I’m not. But…”

He steps closer, his attention on the dark brown tips of my breasts. His tongue runs along his bottom lip, and I clench my thighs together. Then his glare flicks up to meet my gaze. “But what?”

“I could get pregnant,” I say.

Devon’s lips curl in a sinister smile. “Should that scare me?”

My breath hitches. “We’ve just never discussed.”

His eyes darken. “We never discussed you getting married, but you did that without asking.”

I swallow down the rising shame. “Mike. He’s a good man. He’s taken care of me.”

Devon lets out a sound that is eerily similar to a growl, then he turns and storms further into my bedroom. When I hear a series of loud bangs, I scramble to turn off the water, wrap a towel around myself, and follow him. Drops of water trail behind me as my wet hair hangs in clumpy strands down my back.

He’s in my closet ripping clothes off their hangers and tossing them to the floor where there are shoes already spewed about.

“What are you doing?” I cry out, clutching the knot of the towel pressed against my breasts.

“Fancy clothes, expensive shoes, and purses. This why you married him, huh? All this bullshit!” Devon yells, yanking more off the shelves and tossing them to the floor.

“Stop it!” I scream at him. I don’t care about any of it honestly, but they are still my things. Things that my husband has bought me over the past couple of years of being together, things I’ve gotten for myself.

---