Forbidden Longing in the Dust

The dust of South Africa still clung to my skin, a tangible reminder of the mission, of the children we were trying to reach, the words of Christ we were sharing. But the heat of the African sun had given way to a different kind of fire, a primal yearning that Hans and I were increasingly succumbing to. It started subtly, a shared glance across the dinner table, a lingering touch as we helped each other with our backpacks, but it quickly escalated, fueled by our isolation and the strange intimacy that came with living so close, yet so far, from our previous lives. The lack of distractions – no television, limited internet, just the two of us and the books we devoured – only intensified our desires, pushing us further into this shared, raw experience.

I found myself thinking about sex constantly, an insistent hum beneath the surface of my thoughts. Hans, too, seemed to share this preoccupation. The distance from the Netherlands, the absence of familiar comforts, had stripped away the layers of polite restraint that had always held us back. It was as if the simple act of survival in this remote corner of the world had unleashed something wild and untamed within us.

Yesterday, it culminated in a scene that left me breathless and trembling. I had been grading papers, lost in the monotony of teaching, when I noticed it – the unmistakable bulge beneath Hans’s sweatpants. A slow, hot blush crept up my neck as I stared, my own body reacting with a fervent heat of its own. He caught my gaze, a knowing glint in his eyes, and the unspoken invitation hung heavy in the air.

“What are you looking at?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“You,” he replied, his voice low and husky.

My sundress, a pale lavender number with a shockingly sheer panel across the bust, suddenly felt incredibly inadequate. The warmth of my own skin, the vulnerability of my exposed breasts, seemed to amplify the moment. I felt the familiar tingle in my pussy, the anticipation building with each passing second. Before I could fully process my thoughts, I blurted out, “I want you to touch me.”

He didn’t hesitate. With swift, confident movements, he pulled his sweatpants down, revealing the hard, glistening shaft of his penis. The sight, the scent, it was all a rush of sensation that threatened to overwhelm me. I felt a desperate need to respond, to lose myself in the heat of the moment.

As he began to stroke, slow and deliberate, my hands instinctively moved to my own body. I gripped my thighs, pulling them together, as I began to rub my tits against my legs, trying to create a focal point for his pleasure. I lowered myself onto the couch, spreading my legs wide, offering him a panoramic view of my arousal. The sheer fabric of my dress offered no concealment, leaving me exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely exhilarated.

The rhythmic thrusts built in intensity, and I found myself moaning softly, lost in the sensations. My pussy grew wetter, the anticipation reaching a fever pitch. I intensified my caressing, edging closer to climax, desperate for release. The heat rose within me, consuming me entirely. Finally, with a shriek of pure pleasure, I lost control, exploding in a torrent of ecstatic cries.

“You’re a wild one today, Jenne,” Hans said, his voice thick with desire. “Just like a liberated cow.”

“I know,” I gasped, my breath coming in ragged bursts. “I’ve been thinking about your dick since the early morning. I even masturbated in the middle of the night when I woke up to pee. I was picturing you cumming in my pussy, every single time.”

“Did you masturbate before or after you peed?” he asked, his voice laced with playful curiosity.

“Why do you want to know?” I teased, clinging to the edge of the couch, my legs splayed wide, offering him even more access.

“Just curious,” he replied, continuing his assault with renewed vigor. “Did you masturbate before or after you peed?”

“After,” I said, letting out another moan of pleasure. “You were sleeping like a baby. I even moaned with pleasure as you were pumping. You slept right through it. If you woke up, you could have screwed me in the middle of the night.”

The thought sent a shiver of anticipation through me, a delicious fantasy that fueled my arousal even further. I continued to caress my pussy, drawing his attention back to me, desperate for more. I rose from the couch, moving to my hands and knees, pulling my dress up as high as I could, revealing even more of my naked body. My eyes pleaded with him, begging for his attention, for his touch. I lay there, vulnerable and exposed, hoping he would succumb to my desires.

I sensed his approach, the rustle of his clothes, the quickening of my heartbeat. Then, I heard him spit on his fingers, a ritualistic cleansing before the act. Slowly, he reached out and inserted two fingers into my pussy, the sensation both shocking and electrifying.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I cried out, my voice raw with pleasure.

He held his fingers still as I writhed, enjoying the contact, the build-up, the anticipation. I moved, arching my back, trying to find a better angle for his pleasure. The heat intensified, pushing me closer and closer to the brink. The world narrowed to the feel of his fingers, the scent of his arousal, the overwhelming urge for release.

As I neared climax, he removed his fingers, gently pulling back, but not before driving his cock deep into my hole. The pressure was intense, exquisite. I clenched my teeth, lost in the moment, as he continued his thrusts, each movement a surge of pure sensation.

I felt mounted, pinned beneath his weight, completely at his mercy. The primal instinct took over, stripping away any vestige of self-consciousness. The image of bulls and cows, of raw, unbridled desire, flashed through my mind. It was a beautiful, terrifying, and utterly captivating feeling.

As I finally surrendered to the pleasure, a wave of intense orgasm washed over me, shaking my entire body. I moaned with ecstasy, clinging to him, desperate for more. He dismounted me, his seed dripping from my pussy, a testament to our shared pleasure.

In that moment, surrounded by the dust and the silence, we were fully human, fully earthly, connected by the primal forces that bind all living creatures. We had shed our inhibitions, embraced our desires, and found solace in the simple, undeniable pleasure of our shared lust. The heat of the African sun may have faded, but the fire within us burned brighter than ever before.

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