#sneezewrites

Khabib was a busy man. He didn't really see the point of marrying at the peak of his career, his father even scolding him. "Khabib, you need to marry. You're young but that doesn't mean you can’t settle down. "

Despite his stubborn father's words, Khabib didn't marry but instead decided to continue throwing himself into training and preparing Islam and his team for their futures in UFC. He could cook for himself, he could clean, and if he really needed the help, he could just ask his mother.

Khabib, now 37, had noticeably enjoyed retired life. Expanding property deals, media contracts, and of course, food that he enjoys from all the dinner parties he attends. But he especially enjoyed spoiling his girl.

He adjusted his shades before peering out the window of the aircraft. He cleared his throat as he opened the camera icon on his phone, trying to hold it at a discreet angle before snapping a hurried selfie.

On my way to you princess, he quickly typed before pocketing his phone. His heart raced as he anticipated getting off the plane, wanting nothing more than to run to her.

He moved quickly through the airport, grabbing his luggage and speed walking to his uber. Sitting back against the seats he blew out a sigh of relief being able to avoid potential paparazzi and fans.

bzzt bzzt

I'll be waiting for you, she wrote back.

He grinned at his phone before shutting it off to peer out at the Dubai scenery.

Within an hour and 32 minutes he finally made it to his destination. He took his luggage and lugged his way up the steps to the luxurious property he had owned for a couple years.

As he huffed and puffed up the steps, he allowed himself to worry a bit. Knowing that he hadn’t seen his sweetheart for a while, he was hoping she wouldn’t mind the added weight.

He knew she saw his stories on instagram, and he had tried desperately to work off the weight before coming but he couldn’t help it.

He wiped at his forehead and quickly shook his head, before knocking on the door. A minute or two passed before it finally creaked open and a pair of eyes peered out. She opened the door wider and stood with a welcoming smile on her face, “Hi Khabib.”

Smack... smack... smack.. "MPH!"

Soft smacks echoed throughout the room, his hips clapping against the fat of her ass. He took his time, mesmerized by the way her cheeks rippled with each soft smack from his hips.

She wrapped her hand around his wrist, whining, "Islam- faster! Please!"

He shook his head, "You wait... You're too greedy nowadays, what happened to my nice wife hm? Just wait."

He grunted quietly and rested his forearms beside her head before maneuvering to lay over her back, his chin resting upon her shoulder. He laid still for a moment, feeling her walls clench as she silently begged him to continue. He leaned forward to nibble at her ear and press kisses to her neck. His hot breath warming her even more.

She had been sexually frustrated for too long, missing her husband as he competed overseas. She hated when he left for training camp. She hated when he called late at night, sacrificing sleep to talk to her. She hated when he showed his bulge on facetime instead of showing her his cock that she loved so much.

Her eyes welled with tears, and she laid her cheek on the pillow, finding it ridiculous that she was going to cry while her husband was lying behind her, balls deep in her pussy. She had him now, so why was she emotional?

He perked up and leaned over her shoulder to study her face, "Why the tears?" He whispered. She sniffled and shook her head, "I just missed you... and you're just... it's stupid..." She mumbled into the pillow.

She heard him exhale before raising up again, "I'm not giving you what you want because I'm savoring it. I'm savoring this." His heavy hand gave a swift smack to her right ass cheek and she winced.

"I know you miss me too, but you're being greedy right now. You could've played with your pussy, stick your fingers up there while I was gone. Did you even think about me? Hm?" Another smack reverberated throughout the room. She stayed silent.

"I couldn't touch myself. I had to take cold showers to distract myself from thinking about this pussy. But I'm here now, no more of tears, yes?" She turned her head slightly to see that he was already looking at her. She nodded.

"Good," He reached up and grabbed the headboard with one hand, "I give you now, okay?" He whispered.

He grinded firmly, his hips pressed against her ass. She inhaled deeply, gripping the pillow in her fists as she knew what was coming.

He took a deep breath, looking down as he pulled out to the tip, before slamming back inside. He did this again, and again, her moans growing louder as she swore he was going deeper and deeper.

Tears of pleasure sprung to her eyes once again as she struggled to hold her head up, the headboard slamming into the wall over and over.

His hold on the headboard grew tighter as he kept thrusting, his hips clapping off her ass. The sight of his hips nearly bouncing off her ass was almost too much, especially knowing that she was just laying there, taking it while he did all the work.

He had no choice but to give his sweet wife what she wanted. And if it meant making her cheeks fucking clap then so be it.

He felt her legs begin to shake, a sign that she was cumming soon.

She shook as she felt his balls repeatedly tap her pussy.

tap tap tap tap tap

She cried out, her walls squeezing, desperately wanting to keep him inside.

He moaned loudly as he gave one final thrust, grinding against her ass as he came.

It was quiet, minus the heavy breathing. He collapsed on top of her, wrapping his arms around her. She sniffled and reached back to rub his shaved head.

“I’m here now… I won’t leave yet..” he whispered against her shoulder.