After a day of being pampered by your devoted husband, you both fall into something deeper than just routine affection. He always spoils you, but tonight, he's not stopping at gifts.
၄၃ 3,223 words, Smut / explicit sexual content (18+), Vaginal sex, Spoiled partner / domestic romance, Established relationship, Oral sex (f receiving), No condom(wrap the willy), Missionary → prone position, Light power play / possessiveness, Praise kink / slight size kink, Aftercare (not detailed), etc.၄၃
“Do you want anything else?” he asked.
“No, thank you,” you said, eyeing the shopping bags—two in your hands, 8 more in his. “That’s all. Can we go home now?”
He nodded, and you looked up at him. He had just taken you on a shopping spree: shoes, clothes, perfume, jewelry. Your husband liked to spoil you—and not just liked, he loved indulging you. It made him happy, and you weren’t about to argue with that.
Back home, you both relaxed. He disappeared into his home office not long after, and you, worn out from the day, dozed off.
When you woke up, the sun had shifted in the room. You blinked, looked around—no sign of him. You got up, padded down the hallway, and knocked on his office door.
“Come in,” came his voice.
You cracked the door open and peeked in. He was typing away, papers scattered across his desk, completely immersed. You stepped inside and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. His hands paused. You tilted his chin gently toward you and smiled.
“Hi, my love. Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah.” You hesitated. “Do you want me to make you something to eat?”
You’d both had breakfast together early that morning, watched a movie around 7:30 a.m., then he took you to the bookstore to grab a few novels you’d been wanting. After that, he paid for your nails and hair, then swept you off on a shopping spree. It was 3:34 p.m. now. You knew for a fact he hadn’t moved from that desk since you got home.
“I have to finish this,” he murmured, eyes flicking back to his screen.
“I know,” you said quietly, “but I still want you to eat something.”
“I will, my love.” He chuckled under his breath, but you could tell he wasn’t taking it seriously.
That was always the issue—he worked so much, sometimes forgot to take care of himself. Before you two even got married, you’d started packing him lunches. Full meals, nothing skimpy. Sometimes he’d text you a photo and write, “This is amazing, baby. But are you trying to get me fat?” And you’d always answer the same: “Of course not, I just want you to eat.”
You didn’t always make food for yourself, but for him? You liked it. You liked feeding him, knowing he appreciated everything you made—well, except that one time you tried to bake...
You stared at him for a while and sighed before leaving.
In the closet, while digging through your clothes, your hand brushed the short white nightgown you’d bought—a soft, fuzzy thing with lace trim. Pretty. Light. Feminine. You pulled it out and laid it on the bed, then grabbed your phone and Bluetooth speaker before heading into the bathroom.
Is it possible I could feel this cool?
I could really love you the way I do
Is it possible I could feel this good?
I could really love you the way I do
See me (Within the light)
Flowing (Take me to you)
Like the river to the sea
You come down (I’m in the light)
You sang along to Flow by Sade, carefree and a little off key. Warm water slid over your body as music filled the bathroom. Once you felt clean—like, just shed a layer of your skin kind of clean—you turned off the faucet and stepped out, wrapping yourself in a towel. The mirror was fogged, your skin warm and glowing.
You dried off and moisturized with your whipped shea butter—vanilla and coconut infused, sweet and soft, just the way you like it. He likes it too.
You slipped into your nightgown and climbed onto the bed, still humming, your body relaxed and your mood lighter. You reached over to the nightstand, grabbed your book, you layed on your stomach and started reading.
Two and a half hours later, and he was still working. You got up from the bed, ready to check on him, but just as you reached for the door—it opened. You jumped back in surprise.
Oh. You hadn’t heard him coming. The speaker was still blasting.
He gave you a curious look as he stepped into the room. You went back to the bed and quickly turned the speaker down from your phone.
“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before heading to the closet.
You laid back on the bed, watching him undress. He peeled off his shirt, unbuckled his belt, then stepped out of his pants. He moved deeper into the closet to grab a pair of sweats, but you never stopped watching.
He felt your eyes on him the whole time.
“Baby,” he called out, turning slightly toward you with a grin. “You really shouldn’t watch people undress. It’s crude.”
You scooted over to make room as he walked back to the bed. “I’m not watching people, I’m watching you. And besides, you see me dress and undress all the time,” you said, voice trailing off slightly with embarrassment at his teasing.
He laid down on his back, right on his side of the bed, and reached for your book. He scanned the page where your bookmark sat, then handed it back to you.
You sat on your knees, still watching him. He looked so good—effortlessly attractive, even in something as simple as sweats.
“Baby,” he said, eyes flicking to yours, “do you want something?” His hand reached up, fingertips gently brushing down your jaw.
“Mhm,” you hummed softly.
“Yeah?” He smiled knowingly and sat up just a little, the shift of his body bringing you closer.
You climbed into his lap without another word, kissing along his cheek, his nose, the corner of his lips—then skipping his mouth entirely to kiss down his jaw. Your lips trailed lower, down his neck, while your hips slowly ground against him.
His hands slid down to your ass, cupping the soft flesh and giving it a firm squeeze. “No panties, sweet girl?"
“Uh-uh,” you murmured, lips still on his neck.
You felt him hard beneath you, thick and pulsing through the cotton of his sweats. Your hips moved instinctively, slow and steady, dragging over him as his fingers dug into your ass.
He groaned low in his throat, then gave your ass a light slap. “Mm-mm,” he murmured, his lips brushing your collarbone now. “You’re gonna ruin my pants.”
It wouldn’t have been the first time.
You kissed him just below the ear and whispered, “Then take them off.”
That earned you another slap, firmer this time, followed by a low chuckle. “Brat.”
He didn’t argue, though.
You lifted slightly as he shifted under you, pushing his sweats down just enough. Your eyes dropped for a second, and your lip caught between your teeth. He was already leaking—you hadn’t even touched him properly yet.
But before you could tease, his hands were back on your thighs, gripping you tight. In one smooth motion, he flipped you onto your back, drawing a small gasp from your lips. Your body hit the mattress, and he hovered above you, eyes dark with intent.
“I missed you today,” he said, voice dropping to that low, honest register that always got under your skin.
“I was with you all day,” you said, smiling, a little breathless.
He shook his head, already kissing lower—between your breasts, down your stomach. “Still missed you.”
Your nightgown barely clung to your skin. He pushed it up and bunched it around your waist, exposing you. You felt his warm breath on your inner thighs just before you felt his mouth, and your whole body jolted, your legs instinctively closing around his head.
“Shh,” he mumbled against your skin, tongue teasing along your folds. “You’re already this wet for me?”
You nodded, tangled in the sheets. “You’ve been working for hours.”
He chuckled, then dragged his tongue slowly up your slit and latched onto your clit, and your whimper cracked the air.
“So this is what you were thinking about in that little nightgown?” he said between licks.
You couldn’t answer—not with the way his tongue circled your clit, not with his fingers digging into your thighs like he was holding on for dear life.
“You make this too easy, baby,” he murmured. “So sweet. All for me.”
He didn’t rush. His tongue moved with a rhythm that bordered on worship, licking and sucking you like you were his only job. And then his finger slid inside you—slow, deep, curling just right.
Your back arched off the bed.
“That’s it,” he breathed against you, voice drenched in heat. “So pretty.”
He pumped his finger in and out while still licking you. Then he added another, stretching you wider. You squirmed, moaning his name, hands flying to clutch at his wrist as your thighs shook.
“Aww, look at you opening up for me,” he said, gentle but cocky, fingers working you steadily, his tongue never letting up.
His fingers spread inside you, pressing and curling, and your gasp turned into a desperate moan. Between flicks of his tongue and tight suction on your clit, he looked up at you and said, “Yeah, I know, baby—but I need you to open up a little more before I can give you what you really want.”
“Ahh—mmfngh,” your voice cracked as your hips bucked up toward his mouth.
Your body started to tremble, thighs twitching with every stroke of his tongue. Your breathing shortened, your moans turned into whines of his name.
“Go ahead, sweetness,” he murmured, lips wrapping around your clit again. “Cum for me.”
And you did—his fingers thrusting into you fast and deep, his mouth locked onto you like he was starving, pulling every last wave of pleasure from your body until you were shaking underneath him.
Your body was still trembling when he finally pulled back, slow and deliberate, his mouth glistening with you. He kissed your inner thigh once, then again—tender, but with something rough lingering in his eyes. Like he wasn’t done. Not even close.
He crawled up your body, slow and heavy, the heat of him sinking into your skin. When he kissed you—deep, open, tongue sweeping over yours—you could taste yourself on him. You moaned into his mouth, one hand curling into his hair, the other trailing down between your bodies.
You wrapped your fingers around him—thick, hard, warm—and felt his breath catch against your lips. He twitched in your grip, already leaking, already aching for more.
“So impatient,” he murmured, eyes half-lidded as he covered your hand with his, holding it there. The weight of his palm over yours made your stomach flutter, grounding and controlling at the same time.
“I just want to take care of you,” you whispered, your voice breathy, your grip tightening.
He exhaled through his nose, his gaze dragging down your body—lingering on your bare thighs, your chest, the way your body arched beneath him. “You already do, baby. More than you know.”
You stroked him again, slow but firm, and the tension in his hips gave him away. His jaw clenched. His eyes snapped back to yours like a warning—and then he gently pushed your hand away, grabbing both your wrists and pinning them to the bed above your head with one hand.
His voice dropped, dark and sweet. “But this part—that’s mine.”
You gasped softly, thighs instinctively pressing together on instinct. Still sensitive. Still wanting.
He leaned in close, brushing his lips along your jaw. “You want me inside now, sweet girl?”
You nodded, wide-eyed, your breath catching.
His grip loosened. You reached down to straddle him, already guiding him to your entrance—but his hands clamped around your waist before you could go further.
“Uh uh,” he said, the edge in his voice returning. “I asked you a question. I didn’t say you could take control.”
Then, in one fluid motion, he shifted, pushing your hips back down onto the mattress, settling himself between your legs. He spread your thighs wide, locking them against his sides with a firm grip. You were fully open to him now, pinned to the bed with no way to escape.
You let out a whine, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as his cock rubbed against your soaked entrance, teasing you with every pulse.
He braced himself on one elbow, the other hand trailing down your throat, over your breasts, stomach, then to the underside of your thigh—gripping and lifting, pushing your leg higher to open you up even more.
“I let you have your little fun,” he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Now it’s my turn.”
Then he pushed in—slow, steady, and deep. Your whole body arched with the stretch, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. His weight pressed you into the mattress as he bottomed out, both of you breathing heavily.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails sinking in. He pressed his forehead to yours, groaning low in his chest.
You whimpered, trying to roll your hips, but his hand kept you pinned in place. “No,” he said, his breath hot against your cheek. “You’re gonna take it. Just like this. Let me feel you.”
He started moving—long, slow strokes that filled you completely and left you aching in the best way. Every push sent sparks through your legs, and every drag-out made you cry for more.
“Look at you,” he whispered, brushing sweaty hair from your face. “Still needy after I had my mouth on you. You really do like being spoiled, huh?”
You nodded, eyes glassy.
“Good,” he murmured, voice dark silk. His hips snapped forward a little harder, a little deeper. “Because I’m not done spoiling you yet.”
Then, in a seamless motion, he shifted—sliding his body over yours with a fluid grace as he moved from missionary to a more prone position. His chest pressed down against your back, his hands sliding down your sides as he lifted your hips just enough to angle himself deeper. You moaned as his cock sank into you again, this time even deeper, the angle shifting, pushing against the perfect spot inside you.
“You’re gonna take all of me, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “Just like this.”
The change in position had you gasping, your body responding to him in a completely new way. He moved inside you, each thrust deep and hard, making you cry out with every stroke. The way he was taking control, yet still so tender in his movements, made your heart race even faster.
You loved the feeling of his weight draped over you, his chest flush to your back, his breath warm against your shoulder as he moved inside you. He gave you slow, deep thrusts, his hips rolling into yours with deliberate pressure, grinding down in a rhythm that had your toes curling. You could feel every inch of him, dragging along your walls, filling you completely with each push.
“Ah—mghn—fuck,” you cried into the pillow, tears slipping down your cheeks as he fucked you nice and deep, grounding you with the way his arms caged around your body, hands braced on either side of your head.
“I know, baby,” he panted, voice low and aching with restraint. “You feel good, huh?”
“Mhm… y-yes—ah,” you choked out, barely able to speak through the pleasure building hot and fast.
“Holy fuck,” he groaned, his mouth right at your ear, “stop squeezing me like that.”
One of his hands slid under you, between your body and the bed, fingertips trailing with intent until they found your clit. The moment he started rubbing tight, slow circles, your body arched instinctively under him, hips pressing back into his with a whimper.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispered, voice cracked open with emotion. “Wanna cum again, pretty baby?”
“Yes,” you whimpered, breath catching. “Please.”
“Yeah?” he rasped, kissing your shoulder. “Then let go, baby. Let me have it. You’re all mine.”
His fingers circled your clit with practiced precision, matching the steady, deep thrusts of his hips. The dual sensation had you unraveling fast, your body twitching under him, hips rising helplessly to meet each slow grind.
“That’s it,” he whispered, voice strained. “Just like that, baby. Let me feel you.”
You buried your face in the pillow, your cries muffled but desperate, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you. He was everywhere—wrapped around you, buried inside you, coaxing every reaction out of your body like he knew it better than you did.
“You gonna give it to me?” he asked, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Wanna feel you fall apart.”
“I—I’m close,” you gasped, hands fisting the sheets as your thighs trembled. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop—”
“Not going anywhere, sweet girl,” he murmured, biting gently at your shoulder. “Come on. Let me feel you cum.”
His fingers pressed harder, the rhythm of his hips tightening, and that was all it took. Your body seized beneath him, back arching as your orgasm tore through you, silent at first before it broke into a moan so needy, so raw, it made his thrusts falter.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he breathed, still moving inside you, still rubbing. “God, you feel so fucking good when you cum. So tight—fuck.”
Your walls clenched around him, fluttering, milking him with every aftershock. He groaned loud, almost pained, and pressed his body down harder into yours, chasing his own edge.
“You gonna take all of me?” he gritted out, voice breaking. “Gonna let me fill you up, baby?”
“Yes—yes, please,” you whispered, voice hoarse, bliss-drunk.
He cursed under his breath, buried himself deep with a final thrust, and came hard—hips stuttering, breath catching in your ear. You felt the warmth flood inside you, and it made you shiver, not from cold but from the way he gave it all to you, held nothing back.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just breathing. Hearts pounding in sync.
Then he lowered his weight more gently against your back, arms sliding around you as if he couldn’t bear to be apart, not even by an inch.
“I love you,” he murmured into your skin. “Love having you in my life, you know that?”
You smiled, eyelids heavy. “I love you too. And yes I know...thank you for everything." mumbled drifting off.
He chuckled and watched you sleep for a while before getting up to grab a wash cloth.
My partner is amazing... I idly mentioned how long I've wanted a custom PJ case-style plush of my favorite pony, Sweet Stuff for years... and he secretly commissions this custom for me by someone who actually makes them!!! I opened the package and WEPT. The maker even embroidered the bag she came in with my own art!! ;o; This is one of the most thoughtful, personal gifts I've ever received. I've been drawing my characters with a Sweet Stuff pj case plush for years now just dreaming of having one for real, and he finds a plush maker who specializes in them!! I'm still amazed haha ;u;
Hey, now where would us pregnancy kinksters be without the moms who get Big n Round for our sake? Whether your already a mom or a mom-to-be as Rose is here, thank you for your services! Unless like, you were an awful mother, than fuck off. Genuinely.
For the occasion, here is the very first piece of pregnancy art I ever commissioned of my darling two OCs, Lucas and Rose! Done up by the ever lovely @sapphicbump, it's a sweet lil moment of the two enjoying the belly before the twins arrive. Even after all these years, one of my most favored pieces of art I ever got :]
