The Tequila Talking

Last night I went to a bar with my wife and had a margarita that was closer to the type you'd make at home than one you'd receive at a bar for a nickel less than $6.00

Strong as shit, and in a plastic glass. They must drop on the tiles a lot around here. The tables up front were filled with college+ aged people, in uneven groups of 3 guys to 1 girl, or 2 girls and no guys. No one was quite matched up yet. But with a couple of those margaritas in 'em, they would be soon.

I soon had a couple of them in me, and I knew that the next thing I wanted in was my cock in my wife.

We got home after too much rice and grilled tacos, and I pawed her like a freshman. Hands down her pants and up her top, in a sloppy mauling way only the booze gives me permission to do. She was a couple sheets to the wind as well, and let me lick her and slobber on her tits, then her stomach, then her pussy.

I lapped her like a fence-painter, burying my face into her open legs, getting her wet as possible, maybe she'd like it and feel orgasmic, but I was more interested in lubrication, getting my cock up inside her.

My cock, so hard rammed home and humped away against her. We slipped sideways and giggled, so sloppy and awkward, and taken by lust and horny abandon. I'm not sure I felt my impending cum before it started to happen. I pulled out and paused, frozen, hoping to last longer, and a rope of sticky precum oozed out of my hard cock, unable to stop it and barely feeling it.

Not orgasmic but so primed the pump that it fairly jerked and crawled out of my cock on its own, knowing pussy was open, wet and available.

My wife went down on my cock and I stayed hard as my head spun. Leaning back, she managed to coax my erection to a new aware state, now sensitive and more aware of the small subtle and urgent nerve-firings that tequila-drenched maulings had deadened. Her hand and tongue, light and casual, licked the sperm off my balls and shaft.

I fingered her pussy, and felt a honey-thick wetness coating her crease. "Can you do me again?" she asked.

This time, slower, and wanting to feel the painful ecstacy as I entered her, I carefully lowered myself into her love tunnel. Now the warm sleeve of her pussy generated a new wet heat that tickled and fingered my sexual drive in phrases. Not a marathon but a series of kisses, pauses, words and whispers.

She breathed with me and felt each slow and assertive thrust, half drunk and fully getting fucked. Lubricated and sloshed, open and abandoned.

I pulled out and fingered her clit, which was drenched in a slimy foam and erect, a popcorn kernel swimming in honey. I licked her and the taste of my salty spunk mingled with a spicy musk of roses and tequila. She said she could feel the tequila sting on my tongue. It hurt so good, and her hips bucked up against my mouth as she orgasmed into my face.