a marriage proposal antom

Swiftly, he undresses her. She is wearing thermal wear - a bulky sweater and blue jeans - and he quickly pulls those off. Underneath her sweater and jeans, she wears further layers: a woolen camisole and thick stockings.

"What are you dressed for?" he growls. "Alaska?"

"No, the Himalayas," she rasps back.

Finally naked, she lies back to watch him shed his own layers. Off comes his diamond-patterned sweater. Off come his hiking pants. He only wears a pair of Y-fronts underneath, and his skin is pink and glowing from the sudden exposure to the room temperature.

He strips off his underwear, and his cock levers upward like a released torpedo.

"Oh my," she breathes.

"I know. Impressive, isn't it?"

"Your ego is impressive."

"Along with my cock, you'll have to admit."

She can't help laughing.

He straddles her. His hard, hard penis presses against her thigh as his hands seize her waist.

"Maybe we should make a baby," he whispers.

"Maybe." She licks her lips.

What would it be like having this man's baby? she wonders. But she's certain that it would be too complicated now with Thorn in their lives. What does she know about being a mother after all?

He kisses her with all the passion and fervor in his body before she can rush off into another tangent of troubled thought. She kisses him back, sucking in the warmth from his mouth. When his lips part from hers, she feels as if all the breath has gushed out from her lungs.

"You know what I miss?" he says impishly.

"What?"

He has the grace to flush slightly. "I'd rather not say."

"Oh come on, don't be a pussy tease. Say it."

"You'll kill me."

"I won't kill you. Come on, spill it. You mentioned it, and now you have to tell."

His eyes gleam blue fire. He dips his head to gently bite her ear. One of his large, callused hands cups her right breast and slowly massages it in oscillatory movements.

"I miss tying you up," he whispers suggestively into her ear.