Berlin was named for the city where her parents made her. She'd now settled into Los Angeles with her husband Mikhail. Though born in other places, the German wife and Russian husband had been raised in London, where they met. Settled now in Los Angeles, both were homesick. Who would think all the sunshine would make them miss the dreariness of London, pubs, and an outdated monarchy?
As for the Southern California sun, Mikhail appreciated the tan lines it left on his wife. But Berlin had a different idea for this Valentine's Day. Instead of taking it all off, she thought she'd put something special on. She had purchased a Paul Pogba Manchester United Jersey and intended to wait for Mikhail to come home from work wearing it--and nothing else.
The red of the #6 jersey was perfect for Valentine's Day. Berlin stripped in their bedroom and admired her purchase. She'd bought it in his size, of course. The gift was for him, after all. She was about the deliver it in the best packaging for Mikhail to unwrap. He'd just texted that he was only five minutes away.
Berlin turned down the bedroom lights and lit a candle. She made the bed and positioned herself on her stomach in the middle of it, her bare ass fully exposed. She heard his car pull into the garage. She felt herself start to get wet with anticipation as she heard him come in through the garage door, put his things down on the kitchen counter, and head up the stairs. He knew exactly where she was and exactly what to do.
Mikhail walked into the bedroom with two armloads of red roses--he knew she liked to take a bath with fresh rose petals. Hence, the bouquet for her to admire and another for her to take apart. It would be a nice, long night...
"Stunning," he said, stopping to look at her slowly, devouring her with his eyes. "That Pogba jersey is my present?"
"It's one of them," she said with a sly smile.
He brought the flowers to the bed, and she buried her face into the two dozen red roses as he began to stroke her curvy ass. He took a step back from the bed and ripped off his shirt. Berlin reached for the waistline of his pants and pulled him toward her. He rolled her onto her back and they began kissing. His hand slid under the jersey.
"I absolutely love it. Thank you."
"Happy Valentine's Day, baby."
He squeezed her breast and pinched her nipple, kissing her, cradling her head in his other hand. His hand slid down from her breast to her belly and on down to her clit. He felt around the wetness that was beginning to take over her opening before pressing his fingers inside her. Berlin moaned. Mikhail kissed her neck, then her rib cage on each side, traveling lower until his mouth rested on her clit. She gasped as he exhaled onto her clit and began teasing it with his tongue. Berlin knew he'd be down there for a while. She arched her back and stretched in ecstasy.
She rested her hands on his head and rustled his hair. The jersey had done its job. She pressed his head into her pussy and rocked her hips to her own rhythm of desire. Mikhail knew the tune well. With three fingers inside her now, he found the beat. At first, he was gentle. Then, he quickened the pace, banging her hard and fast until she was ready to come.
