Forbidden Dreams, Scented Touch

The velvet curtains of my bedroom hung heavy, a silent invitation to the darkness. Rain hammered against the glass, mirroring the frantic beat of my heart. Just moments ago, I’d been lost in the labyrinth of a dream, a feverish tapestry woven with heat and desire. Now, the remnants of that intoxicating vision clung to me like a second skin, leaving me breathless and aching for something I couldn’t quite grasp. It began as a simple longing, a primal hum beneath my ribs, and escalated into a full-blown inferno, consuming my every thought, every breath.

The woman in my dream, a goddess sculpted from sin and pleasure, had ignited a fire within me, a relentless craving that now threatened to overwhelm my senses. Her presence was a tangible force, a dark, magnetic pull that defied logic and reason. She stood over me, bathed in the ethereal glow of the dream, her eyes burning with an intensity that both terrified and thrilled me. Her voice, a silken whisper laced with command, echoed in my mind, demanding my attention, my surrender.

“You can’t touch her,” she hissed, her slender fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path down her hips, the movement both provocative and possessive. The scent of her, a heady blend of musk and something wilder, more untamed, filled the air, driving me further into the depths of my own lust. I wanted her, desperately, achingly. The desire was so profound, so consuming, that it felt like a physical weight, pressing down on my chest, stealing my breath. I watched her, mesmerized, as she moved with a languid grace, each gesture a deliberate act of defiance against my inhibitions. Her body swayed, responding to an unseen rhythm, while her scent intensified, wrapping around me like a silken shroud. It was a dance of dominance and submission, a silent conversation spoken through the language of touch and scent.

As she pleased herself in places forbidden, a delicious shiver ran through me. The forbidden nature of her actions only heightened the pleasure, igniting a deeper, more primal desire within my soul. Her thighs rubbed against my legs, sending jolts of electricity through my veins. Her fingers, long and elegant, explored every inch of her body, teasing and tantalizing, drawing out a symphony of moans from her throat. The rain continued to fall outside, a rhythmic counterpoint to the escalating intensity of our shared fantasy.

She seemed to revel in my anticipation, feeding my desire with each lingering touch, each suggestive glance. The heat radiating from her body intensified, a tangible wave of warmth that washed over me, melting away my inhibitions, leaving me utterly vulnerable to her influence. She wanted to thank me, she said, for allowing her to indulge her pleasure, for giving her the freedom to explore the depths of her own sensuality. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through my veins, making my muscles tense and my breath shallow.

Just as I began to lose myself in the intoxicating sensation, she lowered herself, a deliberate invitation that sent a jolt of electricity through my senses. The air thickened with anticipation as she drew closer, her body a living flame, burning with an uncontainable passion. Her moist heat pressed against my smiling tongue, a tantalizing prelude to the ultimate release. But she pulled back, just as I was about to reach, leaving me in a state of agonizing frustration.

Panic seized me, a desperate plea rising from my throat. “Please,” I choked out, my voice raw with longing, “let me wrap my arms around you. I need to feel you. Love you.” My heart pounded against my ribs like a trapped bird, desperate to escape the confines of my chest. My arms reached out, instinctively seeking the comfort of her embrace, but she remained tantalizingly out of reach. The ache in my body intensified, a sharp, burning pain that mirrored the intensity of my desire. I cried out, a desperate plea for connection, but she remained unmoved, lost in her own world of pleasure.

Then, she turned to me, a slow, deliberate movement that sent shivers down my spine. A smile spread across her lips, a silent acknowledgment of my desperation. I surged forward, adrenaline coursing through my veins, but something held me back, a strange, inexplicable force that prevented me from completing my advance. She slipped into the darkness, disappearing without a trace, leaving me alone in the rain-soaked room, consumed by a profound sense of loss.

The pain in my body became unbearable, a relentless torment that threatened to overwhelm me. “Why couldn’t I stop her?” I cried out, my voice a broken whisper, “Where did she go? Please come back, I need you.” The silence of the room pressed in on me, amplifying my despair. I heard her speak softly from a distance, a gentle reassurance that did little to quell the storm raging within my soul. “I’m here,” she whispered, her voice a soothing balm against the raw edges of my pain.

“Where are you?” I asked, my voice trembling with desperation, “I can see the movement by the window, your beautiful silhouette starting towards me.” The anticipation built, a crescendo of longing and desire, as she drew closer, her presence a tangible force that pulled me toward her. I strained to break free from the invisible bonds that held me back, fighting against the overwhelming urge to reach out and embrace her.

“It’s not fair,” I cried out, my voice choked with emotion, “I want to touch her.” But she simply smiled down at me, her eyes filled with amusement and understanding. The pain in my body began to subside, replaced by a strange sense of peace, as her fingertips brushed against my skin, a gentle caress that felt both familiar and utterly new. The touch was so light, so delicate, that it seemed almost unreal, yet it sent a shiver through me, igniting a fresh wave of pleasure. I smiled back at her, a sigh escaping my lips, as I drifted into a peaceful sleep, lost in the intoxicating embrace of her presence.

I awoke with a feeling I couldn’t quite describe, a sense of profound satisfaction mixed with a lingering sadness. It felt as though a part of me had been lost, replaced by the memory of her touch, her scent, her voice. Was this a dream? A fleeting glimpse into a world of pure pleasure, destined to vanish as quickly as it had appeared? I didn’t know, but I knew one thing: I would never forget it.

As she continued to make her way up my chest, she again started sucking my nipple, which she knows really turns me on. The sensation was exquisite, a slow, deliberate torture that sent waves of pleasure surging through my body. Just as I was about to return the pleasure, she asked me if I wanted to do something a little different. Of course I agreed, eager to explore the depths of her desires. She said to stand beside the bed, and I obeyed without hesitation.

She knelt down, her movements graceful and deliberate, and began stroking, sucking, and teasing my shaft. The anticipation built, a slow, building crescendo of desire that threatened to consume me entirely. I had an idea what she was up to, we had talked about this little fantasy in the morning. This was incredibly hot and such a turn on. She could tell I was getting closer to going over the edge when she grabbed my hand and placed it on my member, telling me to take over.

She placed her hands on my thighs, engulfing my total member in rhythm with my own stroking. It was a sight to behold, a symphony of pleasure and dominance. The intensity was getting heightened, the slurping sounds becoming louder, as I no longer could hold back. Just as I was starting to go over the point of no return, she slid my penis out of her mouth and into her vagina. I had been saving it up for about 5 days, and an eruption of great magnitude was taking place.

A fantasy come true, thanks to my wife. The rain continued to fall outside, a fitting soundtrack to our shared experience. As we reached the peak of our pleasure, I felt a sense of release, a complete surrender to the overwhelming power of desire. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of us, lost in our own private paradise. It was a moment of pure bliss, a testament to the transformative power of love and lust. And as I drifted off to sleep, exhausted but exhilarated, I knew that this dream would linger in my memory long after the rain had stopped.

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Forbidden Dreams, Scented Touch

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