𝘐𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵

𝘍𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘺-𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

𝘈𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰'𝘴 𝘗.𝘖.𝘝.

My wife is wrapped in my arms, her pretty head on my chest and tiny arms around my torso, the steady beating of her precious heart and the cutest, sleepy smile. Morning sunlight peeks in the room, making everything feel extra warm and good. 

My type of morning. 

I ran my fingers through Celest's satiny locks, smiling as the scent of sweet honey and sexy vanilla wrapped around me, my heart as if cuddled up in the cosiness and love. 

Without any second thought, I enjoyed my morning bliss and played with her smooth hair, but that was up until her long nails began scratching my bicep, digging into it.

"Sandro."- moaned my wife in her sleep, wrecking my imagination with reasons why she'd moan my name in her slumber.

"Cazzo."- I muttered, taking her little hand in mine before she could do way more than trail it down my abs. 

Celest shifted again, this time pressing into me, her petite hand clutching onto mine as she savoured her wet dream. Her comely face is mere inches away from mine and I took advantage of that.

I kissed her cheek slowly, taking my time, and that earned me the sexiest moan. 

Fuck. 

She rubbed her thighs again and I couldn't resist the temptation of touching her. 

"Bloody hell."- I almost groaned, my dick raging hard in my boxers as I gently rubbed her through those flimsy, sheer, black knickers, feeling how damn wet she is. 

𝘊𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘵'𝘴 𝘗.𝘖.𝘝.

My hand clutched onto something, my mind hooded with the most scandalous wet dream about my husband - a dream that I cannot deny myself. 

But I was soon out of my daydream, awoken by Sandro kissing down my neck and massaging me through my knickers, his massive bulge pressed against my thigh. 

"Good morning, gattina."- said my beloved man devilishly, pushing my sheer thong aside, his thumb on my clit, making me moan in relief. 

"Good morning."- I almost moaned, unable to utter a word without sounding breathless. 

My hands held onto his muscular biceps, squeezing them and digging my nails into them, my hips rocking into his hand. 

"Care to share what you were dreaming about, mia cara?"- wondered Alessandro, my cheeks going red. 

Oh, God. 

"What got you moaning my name in your sleep, baby girl?"- asked my husband, easing his middle and index fingers into me, pushing a soft, pleased moan out of me. 

And I'd tell him what I dreamt of if only I could utter half of those things. They are too debauched, too crude and too randy to be spoken out loud. 

"No."- I almost huffed when he stopped, waiting for me to speak. 

"Tell me or you will not get to cum."- taunted Sandro, teasing my sensitive clit, barely touching me. 

"Red room."- I confessed, gulping hard, hoping that it will be enough for him. 

But no.

"And what were you doing in the red room, baby?"- asked Sandro, bringing his ravishing touch back to motion, torturously slowly and tenderly. 

"You were fucking me."- I whispered, blushing like a madwoman, but God, that honesty and bluntness earned me so much pleasure. 

"Tell me every little detail, mia piccola. I want to know it all."- demanded my husband, kissing that delirious spot on my neck, making me moan and squirm from enjoyment.