"If anybody can get off just by looking, he'd certainly be able to do it if he were ever lucky enough to get a good look at you."

"Did anyone ever tell you that compliments like that will get you anything?" Marne asked, taking a step forward so that her breasts were suddenly mated with Creagon's pectorals and slightly mushroomed in the process.

"I'm counting on that," Creagon said, taking his wife in his arms again. His chest mashed tighter against Marne's breasts, his belly united with Marne's belly, his cock stomach couched within the crease of Marne's cunt mouth much like a hotdog in its bun, his blond pubic hair entwining with Marne's red strands.

They kissed briefly and then seemed to flow onto the bed, somehow managing not to break contact with each other. The end result of their maneuvering had Creagon on his back, Marne laid out on top of him in the dominant position.

Another thing Marne had always liked about Creagon-from that first time she had gone to bed with him when marriage was the furthest thing from both of their minds-was the fact that Creagon was so confident of his masculinity that he had no qualms whatsoever in letting Marne sometimes do all the work.

How many men had Marne let screw her who would have never thought of lying back and letting Marne play the dominant role? Too, too many, that was for sure. Too many men, stuck with some phony misconception that a man was somehow less a man by playing a more passive role than usual, wanted to be on top or nowhere at all.

"You going to play it butch this evening?" Creagon asked, giving his wife's left ear a playful lick. "Or, are you going to scoot on down and take my hard cock in your lovely mouth?"

"Do you have a preference, sir?" Marne asked, moving herself slightly back and forth along the length of her husband's body. Her sandwiching cunt lips slipped along Creagon's cock belly, leaking lubricating wetness to the large penis.