Miles Apart, Hearts Close

The scent of pine needles and damp earth clung to my clothes as I gazed across the lake, my thoughts relentlessly drawn back to her. It had been nearly three months since my wife, Sarah, had left for that assignment overseas, a cruel separation that felt like an eternity. Every waking moment was a painful reminder of the miles that stretched between us, a desolate landscape punctuated only by the ache of her absence. Still, I clung to the memories we’d built together, each one a tiny ember keeping the flame of desire alive within me. The stories I shared with her, particularly those unearthed from the depths of MH, had sparked a fervent longing, igniting a fire in her that mirrored my own. Her response – a breathless plea for more, a raw expression of her burning need – had filled me with a potent mix of pleasure and power. It was intoxicating to know that even across continents, I could still control her fantasies, still hold the reins of her desires.

The memory of our hike in the mountains, just weeks before she left, was particularly vivid. The isolation of the wooded island, the scent of wildflowers carried on the breeze, the sheer beauty of the natural world – it all seemed to amplify the raw, primal urges that simmered beneath my skin. It was there, at the base of that ancient pine tree, that things had shifted, that the boundaries between our intimacy and something deeper had blurred. The way her hand had brushed against my jeans, the insistent tug on my zipper, the shocking realization of the sheer size of my erection – it had been an awakening. The thought of her, even just the memory of her touch, sent shivers down my spine.

I’d spent the last few months indulging in fantasies, letting my mind wander back to that perfect afternoon, replaying every detail in excruciating slow motion. The feeling of her wet lips on my skin, the slow, deliberate exploration of my member, the anticipation building with each passing moment – it was a torment and a joy all rolled into one. The pleasure was immense, but the longing for her physical presence was even greater. I yearned to feel her breath on my neck, to hear her whisper my name, to lose myself completely in the heat of our passion.

A year ago, Sarah received an unprecedented opportunity to work overseas, a chance she couldn't refuse. Initially, we had planned to accompany her, but logistical nightmares and unforeseen circumstances conspired to keep me confined to our home. Despite the distance, I was immensely proud of her ambition and her relentless pursuit of her dreams. Knowing she was embarking on such a transformative journey filled me with both excitement and a bittersweet pang of sadness. The days leading up to her departure were tense, charged with an unspoken energy. The anticipation of her leaving was palpable, and our intimacy intensified, fueled by the knowledge that it might be a long time before we felt each other's touch again.

The night before her departure, we had been relaxing, enjoying each other's company as we prepared for her big day. As we were leaving, our friends invited us over for dinner, and the mood was undeniably frisky. Sarah had been running her hands over my semi-erect penis through my shorts all day, expressing her longing for me and my member. Sensing her desire, I offered her a suggestion, suggesting that she might find it amusing to relieve some of the tension by unzipping my jeans and allowing her hands to roam freely under the table during dinner. I knew this would certainly put a little fire under her, and I was eager to see the results.

As we drove home, Sarah unzipped my pants and took my throbbing member out for a playful romp. She seemed to relish in the anticipation, knowing that we were about to embark on a bittersweet goodbye. Once back home, she began meticulously packing her luggage, preparing for her long journey. She then turned her attention back to me, pulling me close and undoing my belt and the top button of my shorts, leaving them hanging on the closet rod, a silent testament to the physical connection we shared. The weight of my member, swollen and heavy with anticipation, pressed against my legs.

Sarah had been playing with my cock all day, and it was now brimming with clear cum, a visible sign of her arousal. Dropping to her knees before me, she swiftly removed the hanging shorts and seized my erect member in her grasp. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of my fully aroused body. "Oh my God, this thing is dripping with clear cum," she exclaimed, her voice laced with excitement. Without hesitation, she leaned down to unbutton her blouse, giving herself a clear view of her beautiful tits. She proceeded to suck, stroke, and massage my entire shaft with passionate abandon, her touch sending shivers of pleasure through my body. The clear liquid leaked steadily, creating a glistening sheen on her lips and fingers. She made sure not a single drop escaped, savoring every moment of our intimate encounter. It was as if she were determined to leave an indelible mark on my mind, a tangible reminder of our shared passion.

As I watched her, completely captivated by her movements, I noticed her purring softly, a low rumble of pleasure that intensified with each passing moment. She continued her relentless assault on my member, occasionally taking the full length of me and making soft, contented purring noises as more cum leaked out. The sight of her breasts swaying gently, fueled by our shared intimacy, added another layer of excitement to the experience. I felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction, knowing that I was experiencing the height of pleasure, even though we were separated by thousands of miles.

When I finally succumbed to the pressure, releasing a torrent of cum, I caught Sarah’s eye. Her face beamed with joy as she thanked me profusely for the gift, a genuine expression of gratitude for the pleasure I had provided. That smile, the one I had witnessed countless times throughout our life together, never failed to bring tears to my eyes. It was a symbol of our enduring connection, a testament to the power of our love.

A few moments later, Sarah resumed her assault, this time focusing her attention on draining my cock completely. Encouraged by her enthusiasm, I reached down and firmly grabbed its base, squeezing it to release even more of the clear liquid into her waiting mouth. Her purring grew louder, reflecting her intense pleasure, as the already engorged head of my member swelled inside her throat. The sight of her working me over with such abandon was both thrilling and slightly alarming, as if she was determined to push me to the absolute limit.

As I drew closer to climax, Sarah withdrew her hand, giving me a moment to recover. Then, she continued to spew sperm all over her soft, round breasts, a final act of passionate abandon. Barely able to stand, I leaned down and kissed her, allowing myself to bask in the warmth of her embrace. And there, in that moment, I saw the smile again, the one that had always captivated my heart. It was a perfect encapsulation of our love, a promise of future adventures, and a reminder that even across vast distances, our connection remained unbroken. The thought of her returning home filled me with anticipation, a potent mix of longing and excitement. Hurry home, Sweetie. The world awaits your smile. The anticipation burns brighter than any physical pleasure, and I crave the sensation of your touch, the warmth of your breath, the sound of your laughter. Every moment is an eternity without you, and I yearn for the day when we can once again lose ourselves in each other's arms.

Hot hot sex story

Miles Apart, Hearts Close

Did you like this story? Miles Apart, Hearts Close look, but like these, here Hot hot sex story.