Author’s note: If I ever get married, I’ve got some hot ideas for roleplay with my future husband.  Here is one of my favorites.  To make this really intense, I’d like to stretch it out over several days to raise the sexual tension and awareness.  I’d pretend to be a virgin woman who is for some reason forced into marrying a handsome millionaire (maybe Mafia?).  My husband plays the millionaire; he’s an experienced lover and has a swaggering charm.  At first we keep our distance from each other, but there’s definitely sexual tension.  I’m leery of him, figuring he has lots of other women and doesn’t see any need for me.  But he’s attracted to me, speaks in innuendos, and is intent on getting me to come willingly to his bed.  There are discreet moments of chemistry between us (brief touching, catching him looking at me and vice versa, maybe some hot incidents like stumbling over him in the shower or him watching me swim or change clothes), but to stay in character, we don’t give in to our desire.  Finally, once our lust has gotten so strong, he decides it’s time to make me his.  This is where the grand finale scene starts.  Names are changed because…well, I want to protect my anonymity, and I have no clue what the name of my future husband is anyway!

I put the laundry into the dryer, sighing meantime.  Angelo’s behavior was really getting to me.  Why did the man have to be so handsome and sexy? He kept neglecting to wear a shirt around me and one look at his brawny chest made me drool.  I wanted to touch his hard, tan skin, rippling with muscle.  He worked out consistently every day and kept a healthy diet.  I admired that.  As an active person, I appreciated his dedication to fitness.  But it wasn’t just his chest or chiseled arms or strong legs that caught my eye.  I had found myself sneaking peeks at his crotch, a vague curiosity about his package size floating in the back of my brain.  I’d catch myself, feeling my face get hot with mortification.  How primitive could I get? Sure, he was my husband, but as far as I knew, he viewed me as someone to fill the position of wife.  I gave him credibility and social status.  His real interests, I was certain, lay in other women’s bedrooms.

Late this afternoon, Angelo had been dressing and packing a suitcase in his room.  He had a business trip, he said.  With one of his usual suggestive remarks (“You know I’ll be thinking about you, especially at night”), he left.

Now I was doing some random evening tasks, planning to shower and go to bed.  Only I wasn’t tired.  I was antsy.  And horny.

I went to my room, which was just as big and luxurious as Angelo’s, and undressed down to my underwear.  A glance in the mirror showed me a fairly trim, slender woman in her late twenties, with highlighted dark brown hair, a light tan, and discreet but pretty makeup.  Arms and legs were muscular but still graceful, breasts were tight, and my belly was sculpted except for the gentle pooch around my navel.  That was a problem spot that I just couldn’t rid of fat.  Angelo saw me sunbathing one day in a bikini and complimented my body, and when I made a comment about that little trouble area, he said men liked a little bit of a tummy on their woman.  It was more comfortable to lay their heads on.  The thought made me blush, but I stood admiring my fit physique and, for the first time, accepting and even liking that slight swell.

Suddenly the door flew open.  I jumped, startled, and found Angelo standing in the doorway.

“What’re you doing?” I demanded, grabbing my discarded shirt to cover myself a bit.

His eyes were all over me, and I confess that I didn’t feel as embarrassed at being caught so exposed as I felt thrilled to feel desirable.  That dark look, plus his parted lips and clenching jaw, proclaimed his lust.

He shrugged off his coat, stripped off his tie, and started unbuttoning his shirt.

“I thought you were flying to Italy,” I sputtered.

“I had more important things to attend to,” he said in that deliciously deep voice.  He was walking towards me deliberately, his fingers now at his belt.

“You can’t just come in here without knocking!” I gasped.

“Oh, I can, and I am,” he replied.

My heart was thudding.  Half of me wanted to run, maybe lock myself in the bathroom, but the other half was simply burning to go along with what I knew he wanted to do.  This was definitely the moment of truth.

“You’re looking nice tonight, Jasmine,” he husked, unzipping his slacks.

I swallowed.

“That’s one of the lingerie sets I bought for you, isn’t it?” he pressed.

It was.  I liked lace, and this light pink bra and panties were so pretty.

“And you keep pretending you want nothing to do with me,” he mocked in a velvety tone.

“What are you doing?” I found my voice again.

One corner of his mouth curled in a meaningful smile.  “Is it really so strange for a man to come to his wife’s room?”

To myself, I was thinking that any normal couple wouldn’t be in separate rooms in the first place, but I couldn’t really bring that up.

Next thing I knew, he was tossing aside his shoes and peeling off socks and slacks.  I breathed faster, unable to not look at his toned, strong body clothed in only light gray undershorts.  I couldn’t help noting his generous bulge.  Wasn’t this what I really wanted?

“Drop that shirt,” he ordered.

I remembered that I was trying to maintain some modesty, but something in his voice wouldn’t let me argue.  I let the shirt fall to the floor.

He stood there, maybe three feet away, his smooth chest heaving with thick breaths, his eyes glimmering and racing over every inch of my body, especially the quick rise and fall of my breasts.

“Oh, Jasmine, you don’t know what I could do to that beautiful body,” he breathed.

I wanted to be angry, or insulted, but I just could not.  I loved that he found me beautiful.  I loved that he was aroused because of me.

Abruptly he strode over and grabbed me, crashing his lips down on mine.  Instinctively I began to fight him off, but his kiss was incredible, and my hands went limp.  I let them rest on his warm chest and opened my mouth to him.

“Oh, God, you taste good,” he muttered.

“Angelo…please…” I stammered, not sure what I was even trying to say.

“I want you.  And I know you want me,” he said huskily, grasping my butt cheeks so he could pull me closer against him.  I easily felt his erection trapped between us.  “Quit playing with me, Jasmine.”

“I’m not…playing,” I managed.  To my own shock, I was rubbing my palms all over his chest and purring slightly as his hot mouth seared my jaw and neck.

“I want my wife.”

Gaining courage, I asked acidly, “You mean none of your girlfriends are available?”

He growled and jerked me around so that my back pressed into him.  I gasped and yelped, wondering what he was going to do.

“You’re a tease, baby.  Haven’t you figured out there aren’t any other women?” he bit out.  His palms slid up my arms, caressing my shoulders, then down my sides so he could squeeze my butt again.  “You know you want this.  I see the way you look at me, like you’d enjoy tearing my clothes off and sliding down on my hard dick and riding me to death.  My innocent little bride is really a cum-hungry slut, isn’t she?”

His language ignited my own desire, and I couldn’t help but whimper.  He turned my head and his lips covered mine again and we kissed heavily, deeply.

As his mouth left warm, wet kisses on my neck, he murmured, “Where should I start, princess?” At the same time, his middle finger slid around to my thinly-covered mound and traced my camel-toe.  I wiggled.

“You like me touching you in such a private place?” he went on teasingly.  “I can go further.”  He slipped inside my panties and ran his finger along my labial lips.  “Mmm, already moist,” he muttered.  “You do like it.”

I caught my breath.  Angelo had pulled down one bra cup with his other hand and began kneading my tender breast.  Combined with his soft probing of my pussy, I was starting to writhe in his grasp.

He pinched my nipple and I screamed.  It was slightly painful, but also extremely pleasurable.  I found some words at last.  “Please…go easy.”  I dared to lift my eyes to his as he nipped at my shoulder.

I found him staring darkly at me, his mouth on my skin.  It was so erotic.  Deliberately, he pulled down my bra so both breasts were exposed, then reached across with his big hand to grab the other.  A moan broke from me.

“Go easy?” he repeated.  His hand in my panties was busily stroking, wiping along my dewy, shaved folds.  “Easy won’t get it done, baby.  But don’t you worry.  I’ll make it so good you won’t want to get off my dick until tomorrow night.”

That made me moan again.  How could a man be so rough, yet romantic? I absolutely ached to feel him, his hands, his mouth, his penis, on every part of my body.  I humped his hand, desperate for my stimulation in this intimate area.

“I can’t wait,” I mewed, my breath coming fast.  My bottom ground against his bursting member.  I knew he was dying let it out of his underwear.

“Oh, that’s what I like to hear, sweetheart!” and Angelo ripped my panties off with one jerk.  I felt him free his cock, then bend his knees so he could find my entrance.  At the first touch of his tip against my sensitive pussy, I quivered.

“Oh yes!” I broke out.

He tortured me for a few seconds by sliding along my slit, wetting himself with my arousal so he would be nice and slippery.  Then, he pressed against me.  I instinctively reached back to grip his waist.  He grunted, let out a rasping “aaahhhh!”, and buried himself inside me.  I felt my whole body flush, as if with a fullness and warmth.  Moaning, I kept still.  He started to move, to thrust.  His hand returned to my clit and the other crossed my belly, holding me up.  I was shocked into flaming need when he amped up his efforts and began ramming me in short, deep pumps.

“Oh my God! You’re…amazing!” was my delirious exclamation.

“So are you, sexy,” he answered, his voice rough in my ear.

We were standing there in the middle of my room, him behind me, pounding the life out of me as he grasped my body.  I felt my butt jiggling every time he slammed into me.  His balls, low-hanging and meaty, swung and smacked my clit.  That was incredible.  All of the sensations were incredible.  Finally being taken by this hunk of a man was a thrill that I hadn’t half imagined.  If we could somehow survive in order to stay like this, his hands on me and his naked sweaty chest and thighs and belly stamping itself to my skin and his penis burrowing deep into my cunt, I’d be happy.

He was murmuring hot comments in my ear and I knew I’d be past the turning point very soon.  At the rate he was going, so would he.  I decided to help him along.

“Fill my pussy, handsome,” I urged.  I held onto his arm.  “Squirt your hot cum into me.  Make me your wife all the way! Put your baby inside me!”

“You want me to cum inside you?” he huffed.

“Yes! Please do it! I’ve got to feel you fill me up! Paint my pussy with your cream! No other guy’s ever gotten to be inside me! You’re the first!”

Angelo started to shake, but he didn’t stop thrusting.  “Oh God…oh God…Jasmine…you…oh…my…God…” He roared and jerked, spurting his thick semen into me.  That set me off, and I tightened and gushed, my mouth pried open by the loss of muscle control as I came.

For long moments, we just stood there, him resting his head on my shoulder and gasping for breath.  I would have sunk to the carpet if he hadn’t been holding me up.  I felt our mixed cum flow down my thighs.  It was exceedingly sexy and satisfying.

Finally he stepped back, his dick slipping out of me.  A river of cum followed and I reached to catch it before it messed up the carpet.

“You’re so hot, your hand covering your filled pussy like that,” my husband observed, his tone much changed from a minute ago.

“Have a taste,” and I offered him my fingers.

He licked them, then kissed my lips.  “Damn, baby, you were unbelievable!” he praised.

“So were you! This was the perfect climax – no pun intended – to our roleplay,” I agreed, smiling.  “You big stud.  You know how hard it was to avoid throwing myself at you the last couple days?”

“Very flattering,” he chuckled, leading me to the bathroom so we could get in the shower.  “I had the same problem: wanting to bend you over every table or couch in the house and take you.”

“Mmm, maybe that’s an idea for next time!” and I just grazed his semi-erect cock with my fingers before prancing sensually ahead of him.