Lights, Camera, Make It Happen!

Being a stay-at-home mom can get stressful. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids and my adoring husband. The kids bring home the good grades and homework assignments, my husband bring home the cheddar, and I bring out my twin girls when the day is over and begging for some one-on-one adulting time with my man. I promise I won't be too raw with this, but mind you, I did have a very long day.

A typical day in the Johnson's household starts at 06:00 sharp. I wake the kids up, prepare their lunches while they get ready for school. I am still a bit groggy from the night prior because of our newest addition, Junior Johnson, refuses to keep his pacifier in his mouth long enough to get a strong 30 minute snooze. While I'm sliding and strapping in Junior into his black Batman baby harness that I received as a baby shower gift, I see my husband sound asleep.

Don't get me wrong, I love my husband dearly. I love him enough where I curse under my breath while saying, I love you asshole. He isn't a bad man whatsoever. Times are somewhat tough since the economy is slipping, and I was recently let go from a call center job in Downtown Dallas. That place was trash anyway.

By now the kids are ready to go, lunches are made, and my husband is starting to wake up to get ready for his day. I snag the keys from the nightstand in our bedroom, and jet out the door before he sees me still wearing my sweatpants and  tank top ‌  with day old baby spit up and awkward back sweat. Yep, being a stay-at-home mom has its perks alright. The kids and I normally walk to school if it's nice outside. The sun is peeking over the building just right, so I assume that we've made it here before all the last minute parents. I kiss Annette and Melody on their foreheads and tell them to have a wonderful day at school before I walk back home with Junior still strapped to my back.

Finally, I'm home, and babe is just now walking out the door. We pass the keys to each other like a drug dealer passing dope to his customer. He kissed me on the back of my neck and told me to have a wonderful day. On the outside I smiled warmly, telling him I hope he does too. On the inside my inner demon is raging out of control after having such a chaotic morning. Placing Junior in his custom-made pack-and-play in the living room, I toss on Sesame Street and let him go at it.

Dragging my feet, I make it to the master bedroom before collapsing. FINALLY, I thought. I made it back to the room before 09:00, and not a moment to spare! I take a deep breather, looked around the room to make sure that there were no cameras hidden. My husband can be a sneaky kinky as I like to call him, and record what I do throughout the day. I take a huge sigh of relief, knowing that he didn't include any cameras in the bedroom today. I walked over our nightstand and opened up my drawer. Lifting some of my  lace panties ‌  out the way, I peel back the bottom frame of the drawer and pull out a small black box. This is where I keep my secret weapon.

See, being the kind of mom that I am, I deserve to be sexually stimulated and satisfied. I love my husband dearly, but sometimes my body just isn't having it. Probably it's because of the pent up stress I deal with daily. Then again, it may be because I'm craving something more. Reaching in the small black box I pull out my favorite sex toy. I call her Delilaaahhh for a very special reason. I discovered  sex toys ‌  is just what the doctor ordered, especially just after having a baby and hormones will be all over the place.

I place the box at the foot of the bed, then begin to peel off my sweatpants, exposing my plump, petite booty wrapped in  black lace ‌  with a red bow near the vagina. I did a little giggly dance to sway my sweatpants off my hips and thighs. Ever since I met my husband, he'd always pound me from behind, spreading my cute cheeks and kissable, wet lips wide open. One time he stuck his tip in my tight vagina, exposing my juices and muscles, and began pounding me like a maniac. He's a big, healthy man, so pretty much every thrust he makes is a powerful one. He even pinched my nipples with his middle finger and thumb, rubbing them frivolously until tiny droplets of milk came out. My goodness, if I know my husband, I know he was touched by some sex god and then some!

Getting comfortable in bed, I place my  sex toy ‌  on the side of me. At first I play with myself a little, try to get the mood just right. My toes curl some as I fantasize about being taken advantaged of by a busty ebony woman with a shakable ass, some pudge around the waistline, and smooth skin. I imagine her sitting on top of me, knowing I love to feel her weight pressed against mine, and grinding her mound on my face as I lick her delicious honeypot. She then would take her fingers, and gently play with my nipples, calling me her dirty slut, and making me drink from her own fountain of youth. I think we all know what happens next.

Opening my eyes I grab my sex toy. Some people use vibrators, others use pieces of artistic sex dolls. For me, I use a tiny  handheld camera ‌  - I love the idea of recording myself, taking pictures of my dripping vagina, showing off the cum spewing from between my lips.

Closing my eyes again, I focus on my ebony mistress. We finally interlock our legs together, squeezing each other lovingly while grinding in a rhythmic pattern. I imagine her rubbing her clit against mine, holding my little handheld  sex toy ‌  over our plump bodies as we make sweet love to each other. I lean forward and flick my tongue across her erect nipples, sucking it gently to make her wet even more. She moans in my ear, calling me her dirty toy, until she grips my hip with her other free hand and deflower my throbbing vagina. With both legs shaking, we reach our climax. She begin leaking white, sticky substance that drips for days, whereas I squirt and cum thick blobs all on her thighs and her fat mound.

I open my eyes once more and notice my  sex toy ‌  is saturated with my juices. Quickly, I pick up the camera and wipe it off with my husband's dirty boxers he came in the other night after a sexual strip tease. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. I check the time and noticed that I have just about another hour before I have to wake up again and begin my freelance job. I put away my camera in a safe place, and rolled over taking the most blissful nap any mom would ever have-- at least before the baby cries.

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