So I guess it should be no surprise that among the gifts we gave each other on our first anniversary, we gave each other nearly the same gift. He gave me a white teddy bear holding a pillow saying "I love you" in one hand, and a balloon in the other. I gave him a light-brown teddy bear holding a box of candies in his arms. We placed both teddy bears on the shelf above the headboard of our bed.

My husband and I are both intelligent, well-educated, rational professionals (well, OK, so maybe when we start craving each other, rationality goes out the window). But there is something about those teddy bears that makes us think maybe tales of the supernatural aren't as far-fetched as our rational minds would like us to believe.

I guess we first noticed the supernatural nature of our teddy bears when we had a minor disagreement about the temperature of our house. It was a hot autumn night, so I turned up the air conditioner full blast. Even so, I still felt hot. But my husband complained that he was freezing. We argued a little, and he decided to wrap himself in a blanket and watch TV in the living room.

While he was gone, I took the time to get comfortable in bed. I was too mad at my husband to even THINK about sex, which in retrospect was kind of silly, since sex with him is ALWAYS phenomenal, and our argument was so trivial. Nevertheless, at the time, my choice of bed clothes--skimpy white panties and a barely-there lacy white camisole (which resembles the upper half of a full-body slip)--was more for my own comfort in bed, than for any arousal that the sight of me so scantily dressed might cause in him. That is, I was not CONSCIOUSLY trying to look sexy. But even when I am mad at him (which, fortunately for our love life, is not very often), I still love him with all of my heart and soul, and I guess subconsciously with all of my lust, too. As it turned out, once we both calmed our anger, my choice of bed clothes would prove to be a happy one for both of us, and would once more make us far less calm, much more excited and excitable, but in a much friendlier and happier sort of way than our argument had.

He watched a movie for a while, and then came back into our bedroom. I smiled inwardly at his double-take when he saw me draped so sexily, so invitingly, on our bed. My wide, reddish-brow areolas, which he so enjoys fondling, kissing, licking, and nibbling (mmmm! I love when he does that), were now peering out from under my loose and frilly top, which was falling off of my breasts, and which lacked a bra underneath. But despite how fetching I might have unintentionally made myself look at that moment, and despite how much I ALWAYS crave his gentle, loving, thrusting, throbbing 8 inches, we were both still too mad at each other to even THINK about making love with each other just yet. Nevertheless, the mischievous side of my nature just couldn't resist teasing him a little, so I sat up, pulled my falling-off top the rest of the way down, flashed him a quick glimpse of my firm 38-C globes, let his loving gaze linger as he admired my curvy hips and my skimpy panties, and then I pulled my skimpy camisole top back up into place again.

Not only my teasing, but also the supernatural nature of our two teddy bears, would quickly change our temporary and mutual lack of sexual desire, however. For it was just at that moment, when I finished my somewhat-hostile teasing, that I noticed our teddy bears, and pointed them out to my husband. The white teddy bear that he had given me had its arms crossed across its chest, with body language that bespoke anger. The white bear's head was turned away from the brown bear I had given him. His brown bear had its head drooping downward in sadness, and was also looking away from my white bear. Seeing our supernatural teddy bears looking so sad and remorseful, now filled both of our own hearts and souls with remorse for the silly argument that we had just had.

Before my husband got back into our bed, I sat up, and we both said at the same time, "I'm sorry." The fact that we said this in unison made us both laugh.

"I forgive you," we both said at the same time. We both laughed again. "We said that at the same time," we again both said in unison. By now, we were both laughing hard at the coincidence of saying everything at the same time.

"Come here," I said, stretching out my arms to him, "give me a hug." He sat down beside me, facing me, and we hugged.

He then kissed the left side of my neck, which always starts igniting my deep passion for him. I lifted up his T-shirt, and I began kissing his chest and nibbling his nipples. He lay flat on his back, and I climbed on top of him, so I could really focus on kissing and licking his strong, masculine, hairy chest, that so excites me. I began gently nibbling on his extremely-sensitive nipples, which I knew from experience would quickly excite him, as much as it does me.

He began to moan, and arching his back, rocked his hips up and down. I knew that he was getting hard, but as horny as we were both getting now, I really wasn't quite ready to focus my energy, attention, and talents on his long, thick, delicious cock just yet. I only wanted to keep concentrating on licking and nibbling his well-sculpted chest for a while longer, making him continue to squirm, gyrate, and moan. I was so proud of my skills, proud of my knowledge of my husband's sexy body and precisely where to focus to turn him on to me, so proud that I could bring my husband SO much pleasure without even TOUCHING his powerful cock yet. My Frank has always been such a skilled, attentive, and generous lover with me, that all I wanted just then was for this mutually-joyous moment of my pleasuring his muscular chest (and of his chest pleasuring my mouth, which was already salivating at the mere THOUGHT of all the lustful things we were about to do to, for, and with each other), I wanted this special and joyful moment of our just-starting- to-unfold passion to last as long as possible, before building up to the next higher plateau.

After a few minutes, he sat up, pulled off his T-shirt completely, and rolled me onto my back. He partially removed my loose, sheer white top, pulling it off of me just enough to expose my 38-C breasts, wide dark areolas, and long, hard, horny nipples, but he did not take my skimpy top completely off of me just yet.

I helped speed the access that he so obviously craved to my already-aroused erogenous zones, when I pulled my scanty panties out away from my already- quivering-in-anticipation hips, and lifted and spread my smooth, creamy, silky legs and knees. I slowly, seductively slid my skimpy, moistening panties down my dark, shapely, well-toned legs. As I delicately slid my panties off of me, my frilly top was still wide open, my nipples were growing even longer and harder, and my areolas were getting wider and darker (just the way his lips, tongue and teeth like them to be), all of which quite clearly signaled to Frank that I was already well along into the early stages of my own arousal. My slow, sensuous removal of my own panties now exposed my hot, horny, hungry pussy to his admiring and lustful gaze (and I hoped very soon, to his highly-skilled fingers and tongue as well).

He now began kissing my breasts, starting at the top, working his tongue around my very wide, reddish-brown areolas, then sucking and nibbling on my hard, 1/2- inch long nipples. Then he kissed under my breasts. How does he know how much I love this? Could it be because whenever he is so loving to my breasts, nipples, and areolas, he always makes me moan, shriek in his ear, gyrate like the completely-uninhibited slut that his sweet loving always turns me into, and quiver from head-to-toe in anticipation of orgasms yet to come, as his skills make me melt into his strong, hairy, muscular, masculine arms?

Before I could ponder such questions, he next kissed me fully and hard right on my eager lips, while curling his long, thin middle finger and snaking it slowly into the fleshy folds of my already-moistening slit. While his middle finger massaged my G-spot, his circling thumb massaged my clit. He smiled mischievously, because he KNOWS that his gentle, deeply-probing finger, ALWAYS gets my tight, hot, juicy snatch all slicked-up with lusty desire for him. He KNOWS that soon enough, my strong pussy muscles will be lovingly clamping down tightly around his thick, thrusting, cock, as it slowly, powerfully invades my welcoming love canal. Not enough men realize that stroking a woman's G-spot and rubbing her clit AT THE SAME TIME, gets her in the mood to want to try ANYTHING and EVERYTHING with him; I'm lucky enough to have a man who understood that from day one, and we BOTH reap the rewards of his skills.

Now his kisses trailed down to my belly button, then around to the very feminine curve of my hips, which he likes to kiss and stroke, starting from where my torso slopes inward to my waist, then out along to where my hips gently curve back outward to meet my ass and my legs. Other than first my pussy, and then my big, soft, but firm 38-C breasts, and finally my firm, curvaceous ass, it is the smoothly-sloping curve of my hips that seems to be my husband's favorite part of my anatomy, judging by how much time his fingers, lips, and tongue have spent visiting there this past year. Yes, he really loves my hips; I formed that conclusion because, all through our steamy relationship, his lips and fingers have paid almost as much loving attention to my soft, curvaceous, volutptuous hips, as they have to all of my more-traditional erogenous zones.

Now he slowly planted a series of soft, gentle, loving kisses, all the way down my left leg, starting from my hips, kissing his way down my creamy thigh, over my bent knee, down my calf, along my ankle (another spot men need to pay more attention to, judging by how wet his kisses, licks, and strokes on my ankle always make me), and all over my toes, which were already curling as my dampness grew inside my pussy (which he had yet to even touch). Then he started his kisses up at my thighs again.

He was lying on the bed on his tummy now, and as he kissed his way down my leg, I could feel the mattress quake with each heartbeat-throb of his pulsating 8-inch cock against the sheet. I knew that in his current state of arousal, his second set of kisses down my legs would never make it all the way down to my toes. Sure enough, he stopped at my knee, then began kissing up my right leg, from the knee upward. Even in his haste to reach my fleshy, reddish-pink folds, his loving kisses and caresses continued to be slow and gentle: in other words, sheer heaven!

He was just too excited now, and I knew EXACTLY what he wanted, what he ALWAYS wants: a taste of my sweet, creamy pussy juice. Most women I know (and many of them DO confide in me the most intimate details of their own love lives, since I confide my own), can rarely, if ever, get their men to eat them out. But lucky me, I am blessed with a husband who loves to lick, suck, and nibble on my clit and my G-spot several times a week. He loves making me quake and gush, and he is a true gourmet when it comes to the taste of my fresh pussy juices, as they gush up into his face. How lucky can one woman get, to have such a kind, considerate, loving husband, who always takes SUCH good care of my hot, hungry, horny little pussy like that? Am I bragging? I guess I am; I have it all, and he is 100% all MINE, nobody else's!

Anyway, as I was saying, I knew he was now ready and eager to eat me out. So I spread my legs apart, with one leg raised high in the air, so that when his kisses returned to the tops of my thighs, it would be easy for him to continue his kissing straight across to my hungry pussy. While I settled into position, he removed his white silk boxers with the red Valentine's hearts, which I had bought him, and I could now see his massive hard cock throbbing in mid-air.

Lying on his tummy again, with his head well placed between my wide-spread legs, and his thick, quivering cock pressed down deeply into the bedsheets, he kissed my thick patch of dark pubic hair, then down to the outside of my pussy lips, which were already starting to open, and which were quivering in anticipation of his lips and tongue.

Gently prying the edges of my dew-coated outer lips apart with two fingers, he let his kisses go just inside the entrance of my pussy. Then his tongue slowly curled out of his mouth, licking just inside of my lips, and then licking along the sides of my inner walls. His magical and masterful tongue worked-over my growing clit, while his gently-probing fingers concentrated on exciting the cliff- like region of my G-spot, that oh-so-sensitive spot directly BEHIND my excited little clit.

This combination of his attentions to me, soon had all SORTS of horny juices flowing, from just about everywhere inside of my eager pussy. My breathing grew more labored, and as I panted ever more heavily and rapidly, I simultaneously wished both for this moment to last forever, and for it to end in a grand series of crashing waves of endless climax, for my juices to splatter all over his face.

"Wow," he said, sliding a second finger into me, and then withdrawing his hand to inspect the thick, dewy, sticky coating that my growing excitement had left on his fingers. "You're already SO-O-O wet."

"Just thinking about you does that to me, my sweet," I said. Then with a sly smile, and a half-wink, I continued, "Of course, your wonderful probing fingers, and your incredibly-talented licking tongue, might be increasing my excitement just a LITTLE!"

My sexy talk and juicy responses, just seemed to encourage his naughty misbehavior. But that was no problem for me, since that was my plan all along. I loved being the beneficiary of my own encouragement toward him.

Next, his tongue probed deeper inside of me, then started working its way back out, stopping at that little cliff where my walls start to narrow, and licking that sensitive place just inside, that some people think might be the elusive and legendary "G-spot". Whether that's a G-spot or not, his tongue sure felt exquisite when it licked there, and my inner walls were now heavily lubricated with my desire for his tongue and his cock. I knew that, soon enough, I would be experiencing both.

Now his tongue moved upward, his licks trying to coax my clit out of hiding. His tongue pushed open my hood, just enough for him to suck my tiny clit up into his mouth. He kissed and licked on and around my love button.

I looked down my own torso, and I saw that his eyes were wide open, studying me intently, watching my little button grow bigger and harder. Now he began softly nibbling his teeth on my clit. From somewhere deep down, way inside the hidden recesses beneath my clit, I felt my thick, creamy liquid start to boil up toward the surface. I moaned, and I squirmed my hips from side-to-side on the bed, my damp pussy now wide open and highly- receptive to all of the intense pleasures that he was so generously and lovingly bestowing upon me.

"Yes, honey," he said. "That's right. Don't hold anything back."

"Oh, you've got her! You've got her!" I cheered him on. As I moaned my continuing encouragement, I cupped my big, round breasts in my own two hands, spreading my knees as wide apart as I could, thrusting my quivering hips and my hot, horny pussy ever higher up off of our bed, quaking from head to toe, and starting to feel my crashing series of orgasms rumble up from the deepest depths of my very soul. I knew that soon, very soon, I would be exploding all of my hot, sticky, gooey, creamy passion all over his masterful tongue, that loving tongue which was causing my reaction in the first place. Again, I wanted this moment of impending orgasm to last forever, while at the same time praying for it to end quickly and dramatically in 5 or 6 thundering, crashing, total-body waves of intense orgasm, one right after the other. I didn't know what I wanted, really--all I could do was moan, thrash around the bed, and enjoy all the sensations he was bringing to all five of my senses just then, as he skillfully continued to slowly lick, suck, nibble, munch, and eat me into sheer ecstasy.

How can I even BEGIN to describe the overwhelming ecstasy that I was feeling just then? My heart was pounding in my ears, beating and thumping loudly just beneath my soft-but-firm 38-C breasts, which stood straight up from my prone position, my entire breast surface pointing proudly and defiantly skyward, despite my 47 years and the effects of gravity. My nipples had grown to their full half-inch length, their hardness like molded rubber, nicely accenting my 3-inch-wide, reddish-brown areolas, which my husband SO enjoys fondling, licking, and nibbling. My inner walls were all slicked-up with lusty love juices, desperately craving (with an absolutely RAVENOUS hunger) his thrusting, throbbing, pulsing, pounding, plunging 8-inch length and two-inch thickness. In reaction to his tongue's masterful licking and his teeth's gentle nibbling, my clit had sprung forth out of hiding from behind its hood, and had grown long, strong, and hard, throbbing like a miniature cock, and growing nearly as long and thick as a cock. My G-spot was already starting to gather-up gallons of my creamy dew, impatiently waiting for just the right moment to gush forth against his insistently- probing tongue.

"Let me taste your sweet juice," he moaned. "Let me have all of your juice. Let me feel it on my tongue, and deep in my throat." Now his tongue moved past my clit, to the little mini-slit right at the very top of my bigger pussy slit, and he tried to dart his tongue inside. But his tongue was too wide to fit inside this tiny opening, so he resumed his licking on my clit, and all along my inner walls.

That did it. I bucked my hips up into his face, wanting my pussy to pass right through his face, so his wonderful tongue could probe more deeply than ever before. I wanted his tongue to snake and probe all the way through my pussy, and out the other end, that's how deep I wanted his terrific tongue to explore now. I started thrusting and bucking the entire lower half of my body up and down very quickly, and each time I thrust upward, his head swung further downward, and his tongue expertly swept along more and more of the length of my dripping-wet pussy, clit, and G-spot, all of which urgently wanted, desperately NEEDED, to come. Then he sucked my clit all the way back up into his mouth again, and his teeth softly clenched my hot, throbbing little love button, and he simply would not let it go.

"Don't hold anything back. Give me all of your juice," he said again, and just as he was saying it, I did. My tender, horny G-spot oozed what seemed like gallons of my thick, gooey love cream from all around my clit, splattering forcefully onto his still-licking tongue. I watched, fascinated and excited, as he let my cream slide down his throat, just as he had said he would. He continued to eagerly lick at my pussy lips and my clit, until he really DID suck out every last drop of my passion juice.

"Mmmmm! Hon-NEY! Your juice is absolutely DELICIOUS!" he proclaimed with a tone of genuine enjoyment, between loud moans and eager slurps, kissing my pubic hair, then drawing his face back away from me, gazing at the thick, sticky evidence of his loving skills, like a painter admiring his just-completed masterpiece. As a rivulet of goo continued to stream straight down out of my wide-open beaver, landing on my thighs and on the bedsheets, my fingers reached up and tenderly, lovingly wiped-off the thick globs of my own fresh juices that were now smeared all over his lips and chin. He then slowly, patiently licked every last drop of my passion off of my fingers. Next, he bent his head back down between my still- widespread thighs. He began to lick all of my juices off of my thighs, off of my thick, dark, well-trimmed pussy fur, and off of my still wide-open outer pussy lips. Throughout his licking clean-up, a fresh supply of my come continued to slow ooze out of my pussy and onto his tongue. Unless you have experienced this yourself, you cannot possibly even begin to imagine the sheer ecstasy of having your lover's tongue so carefully, thoroughly, expertly, and lovingly clean your post-orgasmic glop off of you, glop that he himself had so skillfully coaxed out of you only moments before.

In one way, I was relieved to have finally released my nearly-unbearable, and clearly no-longer-sustainable, threshold of excitement. But in another way, I was a little sad to on longer be in that amazing pre-orgasmic moment, that wonderful rush, when I had been teetering, almost, ALMOST, but not quite there yet, just on the brink of my powerful, mind-numbing, head-to-toe orgasmic explosion.

Lying naked on our bed, my nipples now rock-hard and thick, my areolas wide and red, my steaming pussy still oozing the warm, thick, sticky cream of my own obvious lust and pleasure, all over his eagerly-lapping tongue and my thick bush, I barely managed to croak out my urgent, desperate plea: "She wants him, honey. Oh, baby, she REALLY wants him. Put him IN ME, honey! Pleeeease! Give it to me-- NOW! I want you, I NEED you!" As if he couldn't tell just by looking at me, I quite needlessly added, "HURRY! I'm ssssso-o-o HORRRRRR-NY!"

My hips were swaying left and right, my thighs rocking up and down, throughout my desperate cries, as I fought to stave-off my next impending orgasm, which I could already feel impatiently welling-up from the deepest depths of my soul. All that I wanted at that moment, all that I could think and fantasize about, was for my thick love cream to thoroughly coat the soft, smooth skin and hard, twitching muscles of his always-wonderful cock, as it invaded, plunged deeply, and thrust forcefully in and out of me. See, I TOLD you that my lust for my husband, can toss my usually-rational personality, RIGHT out the window!

He slid himself up the bed, between my spread legs, and raising himself by his thighs, he positioned his cock pointing straight down at my wide- open and soaking-wet pussy. I grabbed his cock--at two inches across and throbbing wildly, it took both of my hands to control it--and I gently, lovingly, eagerly guided him into me. The swollen, reddish-purple head of his cock felt SO good passing inside my pussy lips, that already I started to buck my thighs up and down on the bed, rock my hips from side to side, and moan with the pure joy of it all. That word kept crossing my mind to sum up what I was feeling at that precise moment: "joy."

As if he was reading my mind, he said "Making love with you is a pure joy." I knew he and I were usually on exactly the same wavelength--that's what had made us a couple to begin with--but I still think it amazing that he used exactly the same word I was then thinking: "joy." Looking back on it, I'm just about convinced that our seemingly-supernatural teddy bears, watching all of our vigorous loving from their headboard perch just above us, somehow planted the word "joy" in both of our minds at the same time. Be that as it may, what I loved most about what he had said was the he had told me that he wanted to make love WITH me, instead of saing TO me. This made me feel like a full and equal partner in our lovemaking, and I knew that he now recognized, that I CAN and I DO give him, as good as I get from him.

He had been thrusting so sweetly and powerfully, up and down, side to side, in and out of me, and I had been shaking and moaning with the joy of it all, but now he shifted his position from thrusting vertically, to pumping my pussy horizontally. Much to my joy and gratitude, his 8-inch-long, two-inch thick, rhythmically throbbing column of rock-solid manly cock slid very slowly into me now, stretching my eager pussy lips so very tightly around his wonderful thick, throbbing, thrusting shaft.

I wrapped my arms around his back, and my legs around his legs, resting my feet on his firm ass cheeks, and using my strong leg muscles to push and pull his ass, regulating the pace of his powerful horizontal thrusts into my throbbing horniness.

Once he was all the way in, he swayed his hips from side to side, as I had been doing earlier, so the tip of his loving cock slid from the bottom of my pussy, to first the left, and then the right side of my inner walls. Now he pulled himself almost, but not quite, all the way out of me. Each time that he slid back into me, he alternated between sliding straight in, rocking into my left wall, and swaying against my right wall. Each of his amazing forward thrusts was progressively just a little bit faster, too. His eagerly-wagging cock was exploring every nook and cranny of my interior, and I was getting very wet again. I raised my legs around both sides of my head, spreading my legs wider, and letting his powerful horizontal thrusts penetrate me even deeper now. By this time, I was so thoroughly and naturally lubricated with my own lustful desires for him, that his thick, thrusting rod glided very easily, almost effortlessly, in and out of me now.

Now he began sliding his full 8 inches very quickly in and out of me, just slipping and sliding straight up and down (no time for fancy side-to-side moves any more, at the burning-hot pace with which he was now giving his sweet loving to me). As he pounded my walls so sweetly, powerfully, tenderly, passionately, and lovingly, he also rolled and pinched my still-hard clit between his thumb and forefinger. I was once more teetering on the very brink of climax, tingling all over with love and lust, urgently needing to come, yet wanting my overpowering excitement and sense of impending explosion to last as long as possible. I fought to hold back my orgasm, to prolong the sweet, loving, horny feelings, for as long as possible.

But after only about five minutes of his deep, rapid, loving thrusts, and him massaging my clit, I just couldn't hold back any longer, and I DID come again. And again and again. What a blast, literally and figuratively! He paused his thrusting until I stopped coming by the bucketful, until I calmed down a little, breathing less rapidly than during my orgasm, but still panting quite heavily and feeling VERY excited.

When he felt that I had calmed down enough, he resumed his wonderfully-deep plunging thrusts, pushing himself deep and hard into me, and then backing away from me again. Curious how long he could last, I now began counting his deep and rapid horizontal thrusts. Just as he pumped his long, thick, pulsating shaft into me for the eighth time since my orgasm, I felt him explode. His huge cock was so tight against my inner walls, that I actually felt his thick, creamy white come arise out of his balls, travel down the length of his pulsing shaft, burst out of his cock head, and splatter against the deepest, inner-most recesses of my soaking-wet pussy.

We each held the other in our arms, as the room stopped spinning around me, and I began to breathe again. After about ten minutes of holding each other, and kissing each other's necks, his cock began pulsing deep inside of me, keeping rhythm with the loud, accelerated beating of his heart. Each time that a pulse of his cock throbbed in its outward expansion, increasing still further the over-two- inch diameter of his extremely-thick rod, my pussy muscles clamped down tight around him, increasing the pressure of his cock on my inner walls. He kept this up for about five minutes, before very slowly and gently easing himself out of me. His slowly-retreating, still-extremely-thick cock, pulled my tight pussy lips out away from the rest of my body, along with his spent but still rock-hard shaft.

I smiled and licked my lips as I gazed on the thick, gooey, glistening glaze of slick pussy juice that I had just left coating his slowly-retreating, still- pulsating shaft. The copious volume of my freely-flowing pussy juice was even entangled all over his thick, dark pubic hair. Of course, the outside of my pussy was liberally coated with HIS come, too, as well as my own.

I sat bolt upright, and I let my tongue catch the dribbling mess still pouring out of his sexy cock, alternating between licking his cock head and lovingly swallowing his still-errupting shaft. My tongue repeatedly paddled his cream back into my mouth and throat, my taste buds reveling in the sweet but tangy flavor of this very tangible expression of his deep and intangible love for me.

I just lay there, my heart and soul, the very core of my being, still riding an unparalleled high, with my loving husband's warm, thick come slowly oozing out of my now-sore cunt and ass, and still dribbling out of the corners of my mouth, where I had been sucking his exploding shaft only moments before.

Yes, I know that the modern philosophy says that women can be very fulfilled by a career, and we don't NEED a man. But a job can, and usually does, "fuck a woman over" in a way that is TOTALLY different from, and not at all as joyful as, being fucked by a gentle, loving, caring, gentlemanly husband, who thoroughly and intimately knows how to excite all of your pleasure centers.

I can't speak for other women, of course, but in my own opinion, there is simply no better feeling that a woman can ever experience in this whole world, than the warm afterglow after she has just had her hot, horny, eager, tight, dripping pussy completely, thoroughly, skillfully, and masterfully fucked for hours on end, by her very own man's long, thick, pulsating, throbbing, thrusting, come- spewing cock. The afterglow produced by that very same gorgeous cock that she herself, with her skill, love, and familiar knowledge of his sexy body, has just brought to powerfully-blasting orgasmic ecstasy. What other experience can a woman possibly have, that even remotely rivals, let alone tops, the incredibly- exciting, yet at the same time highly-soothing, feeling that she can get only from the thick, thrusting cock of the one and only man whom she loves, admires, trusts, and respects with all of her heart and soul? I just love feeling his warm, post-orgasmic ooze dribbling down onto my outer pussy lips, from the withdrawing tip of the long, thick, pulsating cock of my very own soul-mate, the man with whom I have chosen to share the rest of my life.

There is something very reassuring, indeed highly comforting, in that post- orgasmic after-glow, in still feeling the heat that his sizzling cock has left smoldering deep inside of my sore, but satisfied, pussy. What a joy it is to stretch out and relax on our bed, my head soothingly propped-up on my thick, fluffy pillow, as the thoroughly-blended mixture of warm, fresh, his-and-hers juices seeps out of my freshly-fucked pussy, and drips down onto the cool bed sheets. And what could make any woman happier, than the knowledge that she and her loving husband will get to go through the same cycle of exquisite foreplay, heart-pounding and ever-growing excitement, slamming-hard fucking, powerful multiple orgasms, and warm after-glow all over again, on virtually a daily basis, for the rest of their lives? To me, a woman simply cannot have a better, more- fulfilled life with her lover, her husband and soul-mate, her life partner, than this heart-warming after-glow.

OK, enough of my sermonizing on the sexual joys of married life. Back to my story.

Now we both rolled our completely worn-out and fucked-out bodies, over onto our stomachs. He stopped to admire, stroke, fondle, and kiss my curvy ass cheeks, enjoying the creases where my rounded ass meets my slender, shapely legs (he has repeatedly told me that he considers these creases to be my sexiest, most alluring, most feminine anatomical feature).

Anyway, as we lay face down, enjoying our loving after-play, something mysteriously made us both look up at the same moment, to notice our teddy bears atop the head board of our bed. We both dropped our mouths open in disbelief, and we simultaneously pointed and shouted, "Look at that!"

My white teddy bear now had its arms around his brown teddy bear, and the brown teddy bear's arms were around the white one's, too. Their lips were touching, and they were gazing soulfully into each other's button eyes. My white teddy bear's chest was turned just enough, so we could both read the words on its pillow, that summed up how we were both feeling at that moment, after our amazing, post- argument, making-up sexual and romantic interlude: "I love you."

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