Page 33 of Shake the Spirit

“I think you’re beautiful from the top of your head to your tiniest toe,” I promise before adding with a nasty smirk, “But there is this one family in your church that definitely has very wide foreheads. Like, their eyebrows are where normal people’s noses are located. That’s way too much forehead.”

Oana snickers. “I know who you mean.”

Relaxing on the bed, I admire her perky tits hiding behind a silky red bra. “It was sexy how you stood up to my family. I especially liked when you threatened to puke on Edith.”

Swaying her hips, Oana smirks. “Am I sexy enough for a dong reveal?”

“I’ll flash it at you, but I don’t think we should do more than that.”

“We’re married,” she insists and reaches for the ring cradled between her tits. “I feel like we know each other enough now.”

My fingers also stroke my ring. I have zero doubt that I love this woman. Why can’t we be together? Oana isn’t a little kid. The look she’s currently flashing screams, “fuck me!”

Yet, I’m afraid to rush things. We’re doing something special here. Racing to the finish line seems like a move made by a guy at a party. I’m not looking to get lucky. I want to create forever memories with my dream girl. Seems like my dick should remain hidden for the time being.

“I want to be ravaged,” Oana insists when I don’t reply.

“Ravaged or ravished?”

Oana cocks a brow and asks, “Which one means sinning?”

“See, that’s how come I haven’t ravished you yet,” I explain while she crawls toward me across one of the mattresses. “Sinful sounds like we’re doing something wrong. You’re my sexy wife. I’m your studly husband. Our naked bodies together are a beautiful thing, not something to pray over.”

Oana’s eyes widen as she mentally strips me down. Climbing on the bed where I sit, she reaches across my hip to pat my ass. “I want to do that.”

“What?”

“Sex, Ike. I know what stuff is.”

“Not really.”

“I’m a quick learner. I bet if I went to school, I’d be pretty damn smart.”

When she reaches for me again, I murmur, “Say ‘Ike, please, fuck my sweet pussy.’’’

Her cheeks go tomato red in an instant. A giggle escapes her wet lips before she focuses the power of her horny gaze on my crotch.

“Ike,” she whispers and looks at my face, “will you please fuck my sweet pussy?”

“Can you show it to me?”

Oana’s breath catches. Her gaze holds mine. She rests on her knees as her fingers slide closer to her pussy. She doesn’t touch it. Her fingers fall short around her hips as if she’s afraid to claim what’s rightfully hers.

“Have you ever masturbated?” I ask and tug off my jeans and T-shirt.

“No.”

“When you shower, have you ever touched your nipples?”

“I wash myself,” she mutters like I’m saying she’s unclean.

“No, have you touched them so they get hard? Like when we were fooling around last night, and I cupped your tit. Do you remember how my hand felt on your body?”

“Yes,” she says, shuffling closer on her knees. “I want to do that.”

“But you need to prove you’re ready. Show me what you want.”

Oana looks confused. Scooting closer, I rest her hand against my bare chest.

---