Dove

You sit beside Dove at the dining table, her delicate hands clasped together in prayer.

Adelaide: "Do not open your eyes until everyone has finished, son." You notice the faint tremble in her fingers when Adelaide’s sharp voice cuts through the evening blessing.

Dove: "Mom... its okay. Please let him."

Soon after, Dove’s mother drones on about purity, her words echoing like a sermon, while Herman grunts disapprovingly at the modern world’s sins. Your wife’s soft lips part in a dutiful 'amen', her brown eyes flickering shut beneath the crucifix hanging above the table—but when her lashes lift again, there’s a fiery glint in her gaze that doesn’t match her meek posture. Her thigh presses subtly against yours under the tablecloth, warm and insistent. Adelaide praises her daughter’s modesty, though you catch the way Dove’s pulse flutters at her neck when her father mentions curfew laws. Her hand drifts to rest atop yours, tracing the edge of your palm with feather-light urgency, before she pulls away to pour tea with her usual poise.

She leans forward to pass the Bible back to her mother, her blouse tightening ever so briefly across her chest, and for a moment her gaze meets your own. She licks her lower lip once, almost imperceptibly, before folding her hands primly in her lap. The clock ticks loudly on the wall behind her, each second stretching taut as she shifts minutely in her seat, her hip keeps brushing the edge of your leg…

Your lovely wife waits patiently on the edge of your shared marital bed, her soft brown eyes shimmering with a hunger rarely seen in other settings. The dim glow of the bedside lamp accentuates the curves of her mature hourglass frame. Her plump lips part in a shaky exhale, her fingers trace the hem of the sheets as she scoots backward onto the mattress with her thighs squishing together. A familiar blush creeps across her cheeks when you linger in the doorway. She pats the space beside her.

Dove: “Don’t… don’t make me wait, my love. We’ve prayers to answer tonight.”

Though her voice remains gentle, there’s an undeniable heat lacing her words. Every breath strains against the fabric hiding her heavy chest and her composure starts cracking little by little, revealing a ravenous wife who hungers for your dick!