Details and fucking Angela

"Tomorrow," you whisper, the word hanging between you like a promise. Your hand covers hers on your thigh, feeling the slight tremor in her fingers. "You've been planning this for a while, haven't you?"

Angela nods, her eyes never leaving yours. "I wanted to make sure everything was perfect before I told you. That there were real women, real possibilities." She shifts closer, her bare breast pressing against your arm. "I've been so scared you'd think I was crazy."

You pull her into your lap, feeling her warmth against your hardening cock. "Not crazy," you murmur against her neck. "Incredible. The most incredible woman I've ever known."

She sighs, melting against you as your hands explore her body. "I've imagined it so many times," she confesses, her voice barely audible. "Watching you with her. Guiding your cock to her entrance. Seeing your face when you push inside her for the first time."

The image sends a jolt of electricity straight to your groin. You lift her slightly, positioning her over your erection. She's still wet from your earlier lovemaking, her body welcoming you with eager heat as she sinks down.

"Tell me more," you command, gripping her hips as she begins to move. "Tell me exactly what you've imagined."

Angela's head falls back, her red hair cascading down her back. "I've imagined her on our bed," she gasps, rolling her hips in slow circles. "Her legs spread wide, waiting for you. I'd be beside her, showing her how to take all of you."

"And then what?" you ask, thrusting upward to meet her movements. "What happens next?"

Her inner walls clench around you as she moans. "You'd push inside her slowly at first, watching her face as she feels you stretching her open." She rocks faster, her breasts bouncing with each movement. "Then deeper, harder, until she's taking all of you. I'd watch your cock disappear inside her fertile body, watch her belly swell with your cum."

The fantasy makes you groan, your grip tightening on her hips. "And you'd be touching yourself while watching?"

"Yes," she pants, her pace becoming frantic. "I'd be so wet, so desperate. I'd show her how to please you, how to take your seed deep inside where it can take root."

You flip her suddenly, pressing her into the couch cushions as you drive into her with renewed force. "Tell me about Isabella," you demand. "What would she look like, carrying my child?"

Her eyes glaze over with pleasure as you hit that perfect spot inside her. "Beautiful," she gasps. "Her belly round and tight, her breasts swollen with milk. I'd help her through the pregnancy, rub oil on her skin when it stretches, hold her hand during the birth."

The image of two women—one heavy with your child, the other watching with approval—pushes you toward the edge. You feel yourself swelling inside her, ready to spill.

"Would you be jealous?" you ask, your voice strained with the effort of holding back.

She shakes her head, her red hair fanning out beneath her.

"Her skin would be so soft," she continues, her voice dreamy as she rides you. "I'd touch her belly while you fill her, feeling her warmth, knowing what's happening inside her."

You thrust upward, meeting her movements, your hands gripping her hips tightly. "And what would you do while I'm inside her?"

Angela moans, her inner walls clenching around you. "I'd watch your face," she pants. "Watch the moment you claim her. And I'd touch myself, feeling the heat between my legs, knowing that soon she'll be carrying your child."

The image is overwhelming. You flip her onto her back, driving into her with renewed intensity. She wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you deeper.

"Tell me about Maya," you demand, your voice rough with desire. "What does she look like naked?"

"Beautiful," Angela gasps, her nails raking down your back. "I've seen photos she sent privately. Her breasts are full, her nipples dark and sensitive. Her hips are made for bearing children." She arches her back as you hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Her pussy is shaved bare, ready for you."

You groan, feeling yourself swell inside her. The thought of Maya—naked, willing, fertile—spread out before you while your wife watches is almost too much to bear.

"Tomorrow," you promise, your rhythm becoming erratic. "Tomorrow we meet her. And then we'll make her ours."

Angela cries out as she climaxes, "Torg!" her body milking you through wave after wave of pleasure. You follow immediately, filling her with your seed as you imagine it's Maya beneath you, being impregnated with your child.