Hotel Secrets Revealed

The rain hammered against the windows of my private jet as I stared out at the endless expanse of the Pacific. It had been a grueling week, a relentless barrage of meetings and conference calls, all culminating in this final flight back home. The usual thrill of returning to my life with Natalie was muted, replaced by a persistent, low-level hum of anticipation. I knew, deep down, that she'd been waiting for me, and the thought alone sent a shiver down my spine.

The first few days back were a blur of unpacking, reconnecting with the kids, and trying to recapture the familiar rhythm of our lives. But as the days passed, a restless energy began to build within me, a craving that refused to be ignored. It started subtly, a heightened awareness of Natalie’s presence, the way her scent filled the house, the way her laughter echoed in the hallways. Then, it escalated, a constant, insistent pull towards her.

I found myself lingering longer in the bedroom, stealing glances at her as she read or worked on her laptop. The thought of her naked, vulnerable, consumed me. The memory of our last conversation, her confession of her desires, replayed in my mind like a forbidden mantra. I knew I had to act, to satisfy this mounting need before it spiraled out of control.

One evening, as the children were engrossed in a movie, I decided to initiate the conversation. I found Natalie in the living room, curled up on the sofa with a book. “So,” I began, my voice low and deliberate, “you were quite the busybody while I was away, weren’t you?”

She looked up from her book, a playful glint in her eyes. “Well,” she sighed, a hint of defensiveness in her tone, “it’s hard to resist temptation when one is left alone with one’s thoughts.”

“Mrs. K,” I frowned, a familiar wave of disapproval washing over me, “this behavior is completely unacceptable from a married mother of two. And a Catholic one at that! Didn’t Father Benedict warn you about the dangers of lustful thoughts?”

“Oh, husband,” she fluttered her eyelashes, feigning innocence, “I do feel rather guilty. Will you forgive me?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure,” I weighed my options, “That depends. But I think the first step towards that would be a thorough, detailed description of what happened. You must also show me exactly what you did. Only a full admission will do.”

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly pulled herself up from the sofa. “Well,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, “I woke up in the middle of the night to a dream that I was heavily pregnant and you were making love to me. I was on all fours, with my bottom up in the air, leaning against the sofa and you were behind me, moving inside me really slowly. I just got more and more turned on without actually being able to come and then suddenly I woke up all panting. I was so wet I had actually leaked onto the bed. I tried to go back to sleep but I couldn’t. Then my hand started wondering and I started playing with my nipples, like this.”

She pulled her nightie up, gently pinching her nipples between her fingers, showcasing the way they became erect. “Then my hands wondered down like this,” she continued, slowly descending her hands, revealing her arousal. Then she stopped for a second and opened her eyes. She looking at my bulging pants and sighed, “Ah, that’s the punishment you’ve got for me. I will be shot.”

“Oh you look beautiful,” I groaned, dropping my pants to the ankle, and started stroking my penis, “I hope you don’t mind me doing this.”

She didn’t say anything, just looked at me dreamily and then closed her eyes again. The she turned her body towards me so that I could see her wide open pussy lips. She parted them with her fingers as if offering me the hole. Then gradually her breathing got deeper and deeper and she let out a little moan of “oh yes, yes, yes”. What surprised me was her voice, which became almost girlish, I had never heard her like that. Her body curled up and she opened her eyes again. She looked at my penis and let out a little cry: “oh, come, please come!”. The expression on her face was too much to look at and I was unable to held back any longer. I came and shot four or five thick ropes of sperm over her body. It went everywhere, on her thighs, hands, belly and boobs.

I collapsed next to her on the bed and for a few minutes we were just lying there cuddling. I could feel the squidgy feeling of semen in between us as it was trickling down onto the bed. We lay there for a while panting and looking at each other. Finally she started giggling. “Am I forgiven now? I think I’ve made a full confession.”

“I should think so,” I smiled, “Although now I feel a bit silly. I mean, I’m sorry about squirting all over you.”

“Oh, don’t!” her eyes opened up wide with surprise, “it was sweet! The way you were looking at me… Just watching you gave me an orgasm. But it’s funny, the hangups we have sometimes,” she said leaning on her elbow and looking at me bemused, “I thought my pussy was smelly until you stuck your tongue in my vagina one day and told me that was the nicest thing you have ever tasted. And I really don’t mind your baby making juices. Look… ” she said, dipped her finger into a blob of semen on her chest, then she put it on the tip of my nose and kissed me there. It tasted salty, warm, and utterly intoxicating. The world faded away, leaving only the sensation of her, the scent of her, and the overwhelming desire that now consumed me. The rain continued to fall outside, but inside our bedroom, a different kind of storm was brewing, one fueled by lust, passion, and a shared understanding that our love was far from over.

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