The Rekindling

Man, Marcus London hasn't laid eyes on his wife Sage Evans in three damn months, buried under work projects that kept him chained to the office. Finally, he wraps that beast up and he's itching for a break he earned with blood and sweat. His boss rings, trying to rope him into another grind, but Marcus shuts it down hard—no way, I'm clocking out for vacation right now. He strolls into their bedroom at home, spots Sage folding laundry like always, her face screaming disappointment and that aching loneliness from months without her man's touch. Grinning like a fox, he drops the bomb: vacation starts today, babe, pick any spot on the map and it's ours. But hold up, first things first—he's giving her that steamy massage to fire up the spark they've missed. Marcus peels off her clothes nice and slow, hands gliding over her smooth white skin, flawless as fresh snow. He yanks down her panties, starving to plant kisses on the soft insides of her pussy and those neglected tits begging for attention. He slides a finger deep into her tight hole, plunging in with that raw hunger, getting her slick and soaked in seconds. She's moaning, begging him don't you dare stop till I explode. They flip around, diving into the good stuff—Sage wraps her lips around his rock-hard cock, sucking like she's making up for lost time, while Marcus laps at her hungry pussy, coating it with spit and working her with his fingers till she's squirming. But his throbbing dick's got plans; he needs that warm grip of her now. He slides her down onto him, riding deep and relentless, her red pussy lips stretching wide around his massive shaft, taking every inch like she owns it. She craves that real-deal proof of his love, feeling him thrust in, owning her completely. Hell, he can't hold back—boom, he pulls out and unloads, painting her stomach with hot ropes of cum.