My Beastly Husband

Chelsea laughed, pulled her hand, put it to his mouth, and kissed it. Then he coaxed her, “I’m stupid, I’m stupid, OK? My wife is the smartest. She can make stew, shoes, and plant seedlings. Who is smarter than my wife? Hmm?”
“Hmph,” Moussa finally cooled down. Exactly, who was as bright as her? Losing in mahjong only meant that she had bad luck in gambling, and it had nothing to do with her IQ. Moussa consoled herself.

Chelsea watched her leaning in his arms. Small and soft, still puffy face, and a very vivid expression. He suddenly felt warm and happy. This should be the feeling of family, right? She moved his heart. He bowed to rub his forehead against hers a few times and asked gently and seriously, “Moussa, give me a baby, okay?” This was the first time he sincerely wanted something from the bottom of his heart, rather than being urged by the tribe’s elders, that she bear a baby for him… a baby like her.
Moussa froze for a moment. There was no need to ask, right? They had made love so often, and without taking any measures, he had been shooting inside. It was only a matter of time before there was a baby. But he was willing to ask her permission, so she felt cherished and valued. Therefore, she nodded shyly.

Chelsea was overjoyed to see her nod. He moved to kiss her affectionately. He licked her inch by inch and gradually kissed her further and further down.
His hand also took the opportunity to trace his way down, stroking her delicate white thighs, and slowly stopped at the root. Slowly squeezing his fingers in between her closed legs with a bit of force, he kept teasing them. First, he rubbed her sensitive little bulb of flesh. While she trembled lightly, he parted her petals and circled his mouth to tease her. Bit of force, he kept teasing them.

“Mmm,” Moussa got a little impatient with his teasing. She clamped her legs, wiggled her waist, and rubbed herself against him. The nectar flowed from her and drenched his fingers.

“Good girl, spread your legs.” Chelsea loved the impatient expression on her face and kissed her on the lips seductively.
Waves of stimulation made Moussa submit to the pleasure. With a dizzy face, she spread her legs wide, inviting his entry.

“That’s good,” Chelsea said as he turned her body around so that she was sitting with her back to him. She leaned back against him, and he could see clearly that her p*ssy was dripping and quivering as soon as he looked down.
“Baby, keep your head down.” Then as Moussa ducked her head, he slid his finger inside her, which was already dripping wet. His finger drove in smoothly, opening her tight canal and penetrating it, with the other four fingers clasping and rubbing against her wet, slippery petals.

“Mmm,” looking down at his fingers going in and out of her made Moussa feel ashamed. Pursing her lips and looking away, she tried to close her thighs, only to have his other hand clasp them and pull them even wider apart.

“What’s wrong, baby, don’t you like to see? Hmm?” Chelsea nibbled her earlobe and asked wickedly. When she pursed her lips and closed her eyes shyly, refusing to answer, he then teased, “Your flower is very fond of my finger. Look how tight it is biting. It’s greedy, isn’t it? Listen to the sound it makes. It’s flowing so much water and wants something bigger to eat, eh?”