Rated X Imagines

Satyriasis Rehabilitation

Y/n's POV

|

|

|

"Oh, yes, God. Augghh, D..daniel slow down." I whispered, feeling my husband increase his strokes. It's six in the morning and I am being penetrated on the balcony of our bedroom. To my surprise no one has came outside to catch us in this compromising position.

At the beginning I was just trying to enjoy my now cold cup of coffee while gazing at the sunrise; instead I was swept off my chair and mounted on the somewhat thick railing as he pushed aside my one barrier of protection and shoved himself inside my throbbing walls.

Now after an hour of pleasing me, my hands gripped the iron gate while I was bent over, taking his rough back shots. One hand that wasn't preoccupied with holding onto my waist slithered up to the top of my nightgown to pull it past my breasts.

He knew I hated balcony sex, anyone could be looking and taking pictures. Or worse, recording for future references. Nothing fazed him. Daniel's specific words for this situation was, "I don't care, let them watch as I claim you as mine. All mine."

Daniel has a problem that he doesn't want to address; not that it's presumably a bad thing, only when it gets out of hand.

My husband, is a sex addict. He wants sex from sun up to sun down. On the bed, in the living room, on the floor, on the walls, on top of the kitchen counter, in the car, in the garage, on the balcony, in the shower. Even in public places at times where the urge is too unbearable for him to control.

There was a time where we went to my niece's birthday party at John's Incredible Pizza Company and while the children played in the arcade, and the parents went for supervision, he pulled me into the most secluded booth in the Vertical room and fucked me while I sat on his lap. That was until we were caught by my sister who came back to check on us.

To say that she was upset was an understatement. She didn't speak to me for almost two months before I begged her for forgiveness. After that moment Daniel made sure that I wore easy access clothes when we were in public together, and when I denied him of what he wanted he jerked himself off for whenever I did want him intimately.

He complied with my pleas, halting is thrusts to hug my torso and force my back into his chest. Standing up sex is my new weakeness. He went deeper and softer at this angle. His head sunk into my neck, breathing calmly as pushed in farther. Sloppy wet kisses were given from my neck to my shoulder and journeryed there way up to my earlobe before he bit down on my tender cartilage.

"You good babygirl?" He grunted faintly, as one hand traveled down my stomach to play with my erect bud. My breath hitched as I felt his long fingers plunge alongside his shaft, moving in sync. Swollen pink lips connected to right back onto my shoulder, producing hickies to mark his territory.

Words tried to form, but were lost as my climax rolled over my sentences. "Ughh, c..can't hold it. Gonna cum."

Daniel's quiet laughs vibrated onto my back as my juices flowed out, spilling heavily onto the cemented floor. "I love how you're always wet for me girl. It's so easy to make you want me." He teased.

Saying that I wasn't aroused by my husband's addiction would be a complete lie. I love it. I love when he begs and gets on his knees just to have a taste of me. I love when I come home to be in a new position that hasn't even been discovered yet. Yet, it becomes overbearing when that's the only thing he thinks about. I can't even get a nice conversation with him without doing something sexual.

Not reaching his own high, he led us back into the bedroom and laid down on the bed, positioning me on his lap. "Ride me." He commanded, giving me a breathtaking smile.