She's talking to Rebecca

"Cunt," you correct yourself as you feel her molten box engulf the head of your cock.

"Mmmmm..." your wife purrs, still staring at the closet. You feel her soaked box clamp down. "Cunt," she breathed like it was a prayer. She slid down further. She kept looking over your shoulder while her bunched up dress fell between the two of you and she grabbed into your biceps for support.

"Every cunt is just.....mmmmm.... different," she says a little louder. She looks back at you. "Some cunts are tighter," and she clamps down. "Mmmm fuck...some are wetter like mine."

She looked back at the closet, half your rod swallowed in her box.

"And some cunts are sweeter, Master." And she bottomed out and your lap was coated in a rush of fresh honey. "Mmmmm fuck.... And I never forget what a cunt tastes like, Master."

You heard a squeak from the closet. Your wife heard it too, her pussy clamped down with another flood of fuck sauce and she giggled as she came.

You almost exploded and she rose up and then let your head pop free of her pussy with a wet slurch. She lifted her dress and you could see strings of her juice connecting her lips with your head. You almost came from just that, but your cock jumped and bucked and the strings of gooey cum snapped.

"No panties, no cock, all the cunt I can eat. Anything else, Master?" she asked with a succubus grin. You didn't see if she was looking back over your shoulder or not.