Vincent & Ezra

kink

Ezra

We got home about ten minutes after our dirty conversation, before making our way into our bedroom. I went into the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door because he's already seen all there is to see. I changed out my clothes, and brushed my teeth while looking in the mirror trying to process what the fuck I was about to do.

Something I'd been looking forward too.

Part was of me was ecstatic, I knew watching Vincent stroke his dick was something I'd want to see, but the thought of pleasuring myself while watching him, was an entirely new ball field.

I stepped out of the bathroom and watched as he pulled off his tie, making eye contact. I was kinda unsure of myself, but I was mostly exhilarated.

Vince made no move to talk, just standing tall and looking down at me, so I decided to go first. "Tell me what to do."

My words made Vince smile, walking over to pick me up, holding me against his chest as my legs wrapped around his torso, "I've never done this either if it makes you feel better, and if you don't like it, we don't do it again. Okay?"

"Okay." I told him, and he placed me on my feet, "Get undressed, and go sit on the bed."

He took his shirt off, and made a move to take off his pants an boxers, leaving him bare. Vincent was a big man, who looked very strong, not that kind from dieting and lifting weights, but the kind from genuine hard work.

I immediately complied with his words, taking off the only teeshirt I had on, as he made his way over to the bed, propping up some pillows for me to lean on, while resting his back against the headboard, legs open widely. I sat directly in front of him, and he leaned down and spit on where my hands were about to be, while he ordered out, "touch yourself."

oh so we're starting. cool cool cool.

I leaned back into the pillows and reached down as Vincent had instructed, my finger finding my clit a little faster this time, and I began rubbing like he told me too.

He grabbed the base of his dick and began stroking slowly, his eyes focused directly on my hand that was touching myself, "Rub your clit with your pointer finger, and stick the middle one in."

I did as I was told, letting out a small gasp when my finger entered my opening, but my eyes were focused on Vincent's large erection.

His hand was making slow, controlled strokes along his large dick, twisting slightly as it got to the end. I was so enthralled watching him, I stopped moving my hand, which made Vincent demand that I continue, but I couldn't help it. Watching him grab his own dick was so intense to me, I didn't want to focus on anything else.

Is this some kind of kink? Do I have a kink for watching Vincent jerk off?

Vince stopped moving his hand, causing a deflated sound to come from me, "Why'd you stop?"

"Why did you, sweet girl?"

In all honesty, fuck being shy. I need to communicate with my husband, and I couldn't do it when I was acting like a prepubescent girl.

"I think I could come just watching you do that, I really do. Like, I think I have a kink for it? Is that the right word?" I laughed out, not even embarrassed. He's my husband, and he loves me, he's not going to judge.

"My little wife has a kink, hm?" Vincent goaded out, "Watching daddy fuck his own hand? Never would've guessed." He responded, moving his hand again, and I sat there and watched like a fucking pervert.

"Put your tits in my face, I'm gonna come on them here in a minute. We both have a kink it seems."

I moved my body closer to Vince and pressed my chest into his face, and with his free hand he grabbed my nipple, his mouth catching the other while my hand went to the back of his head, threading my fingers through his hair.

I was able to look down and watch him stroke himself for a couple of minutes, my hand rubbing the back of his head, "I feel you dripping baby, let me take care of it, hm?"

"Anything, please."

He moved his free hand off my boob as his mouth reconnected with my nipple, pressing his thumb down onto my clit, rubbing harsh circles.

We sat like that for another minute, and I felt my orgasm quickly approach before bursting on Vincent's hand, making my whole body clench. Vincent moved me back, and although I was confused, I complied.

I laid back into the bed and Vincent rose onto his knees hovering above me, still stroking his dick that was leaking precum. I lifted back up, and licked the precum off the top of his dick and he immediately came on my chest, warm liquid pouring out.

Holy fuck

Vincent was looking down at my chest, so I decided to tease him a little bit. I grabbed his hand and took two of his fingers, running them over my nipple that he had just put new jewelry in, catching as much cum on his fingers as I could, and brought it back up to my mouth, sucking it off.

"You taste good." I let out with a small smile, my cheeks flushing.

Vincent was speechless for a second, and he couldn't stop staring at me, "Jesus fuck Ezra I think you just got me pregnant."

"I aim to please." I teased, rolling my eyes with a smile.

Vincent stood from the bed, still in a daze. He collected me from my relaxed position and threw me on his shoulder, smacking my ass, "I'm fuckin' serious," he spoke again, "that was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen. If I had a uterus I'd be knocked up right now."

Vince went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, planting me in front of the toilet.

I did my business and turned to look at myself in the mirror for a second, and saw Vincent's cum on my chest. The thoughts made me smile in return, looking up at Vince over my shoulder while he was already was looking down at me.

"Let's wash you off, hm?"

Usually Vincent just washed my back and chest, which is a surprise to no one, but he grabbed the washcloth from my hand. He started at my fingers, running the washcloth through each one individually, making his way to my palms of my hands, and all the way up, repeating on my other side as well.

He then took his time running the soapy washcloth over my chest and stomach, no surprise there, before kneeling down in front of me, running the washcloth in between every crevice and down my legs, to my feet.

It was strangely the most intimate thing we'd ever done.

After he was satisfied with his work, I decided to return the favor and cleaned him as he did me, starting with his hands and making my way up to his thick chest, and all the way down.

He had to bend down a little so I could wash his hair, but we made it work.

"I love you." He whispered down to me.

"Love you more." I replied, and Vincent crinkled his nose, "Who loves me?"

"You wife, I guess." I joked with him.

"Which one?" He asked in mock confusion, causing me to let out, "Not funny."

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