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She indulges her husband's panty fetish.
Occasionally for variety sake he returns to my thighs or kisses my pelvic bone and hips, right above the waistband, but always returns quickly to my pantied pussy.
He is not allowed to use his hands during this time, and he struggles with balance and keeping my legs where he wants them. He once complained, saying he could please me much more if his hands were in play. I told him he pleases me without them, and he is to do as I say. He likes it when I am in charge. I like that I can essentially handcuff him without the need for handcuffs.
It usually doesn't take him long to make me cum right there in my panties; gyrating against his mouth as I moan in ecstasy from his efforts. I usually put my hand on the back of his head and pull him into me while I orgasm. He tells me he loves the power of this position, his goddess pulling him to her while she writhes in pleasure. I'm always a little nervous I'm going to suffocate my husband in my cunt. Which I think would make a funny headline.
He stays between my thighs as I come down from my peak arousal, nuzzling my panties, but not daring to press too hard against my overly stimulated sex. When I've recovered enough to make my words come out right I command him to look at me.
His eyes find mine and I wait for him to do what he's supposed to do, we've done this too many times for me to have to command him. It never takes him too long to remember.
"Thank you for letting me please you." He says. It's quite a dominant feeling to be both the recipient of the orgasm, and then get thanked for allowing the man to give it to me. Yummy!
"You're welcome. Take me to the bedroom." I order. He grins and stands. His dick isn't very hard in his panties. I take it as another sign of his devotion. He was so into my orgasm, he forgot about his own cock.
He reaches out his hand and I take it. He helps me up from the couch and my skirt falls back into place. I feel extra naughty in my soaked panties as he guides me down the hall to our bedroom. Once there I find everything is the way it's supposed to be. The bed is made (It wasn't when we left for work that morning), all the clothes are picked up, candles provide the only light the room.
"Good boy." I whisper.
"Thank you." James says, again, he is very polite when he's wearing girl panties.
"Down." I tell him, and he lowers to his knees. We have refined this to the point where a lot of talking isn't really needed.
"Undress me." I command.
James starts by unzipping my skirt and sliding it down my legs. Once I've stepped out of the skirt, he folds it and puts it on the dresser. In subservient mode, he respects not only me, but anything that is mine. Next he takes my hand and guides me to the chest that sits at the foot of our bed. I take a seat and watch my man as he dutifully unbuttons my blouse and gently slides it off my shoulders. Again, he carefully folds my blouse and places it with my skirt. James returns to me to take my bra. He loves my tits, and he gazes longingly at them as they are revealed to him.
He is about to take the bra to the dresser when I pull him to my 32c's, he begins to kiss my breasts, and I allow him to make full use of his hands this time as he kisses and sucks my boobs. I keep him in this position for a long time. My breasts are sensitive and I love to have them sucked. At some point I remember to move my stocking covered foot between his legs and caress his cock and balls through his panties. My breast stifles a moan as my foot massages him. Up until this moment, everything we've done is about pleasing me. It's time for my man to get what he deserves.
When I've had enough of his lips on my breasts, which there can almost never be enough, I pull his head away from me and stare into his eyes as I continue to stroke his dick with my foot.