Silent Night, Secret Touch

The familiar weight of Natalie beside me was a comfort, her head nestled against my arm, a silent invitation to the nightly ritual. My hand, usually playful, danced across her stomach, a casual exploration of curves and softness, a prelude to the inevitable. It was a dance we’d perfected over years, a blend of tenderness and anticipation, sometimes leading to passionate encounters, other times settling into the blissful oblivion of shared sleep. Tonight, however, felt different, charged with a simmering heat I hadn't quite anticipated.

It started with a casual remark, a whispered confession from the previous day, a seed of desire planted in fertile ground. I’d been feeling a little hornier than usual, a restless energy humming beneath my skin, and had impulsively taken one of her panties from the laundry basket. It wasn’t a deliberate act, not really, just a moment of impulsive curiosity, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken desires that simmered between us. Now, as I continued my slow, languid caress, she stirred, her eyes fluttering open, a mischievous glint in their depths.

“So this little confession you made the other day,” she murmured, her voice husky with sleep, “You know, when I was out and you felt a bit horny and took one of my panties out of the laundry basket… So, tell me – how did you get the idea?”

The embarrassment threatened to consume me, a wave of heat rising in my chest. The details felt both exhilarating and deeply vulnerable. “Ah, that…” I began, my voice slightly strained, “well, the truth is, it’s not so much your panties I wanted to cream… but what is in them.”

A slow smile spread across her face, a playful invitation that sent shivers down my spine. “Oh. I’m not sure I know quite what you mean…” she purred, her voice laced with anticipation. “I think perhaps I would like to hear a bit more detail about what you imagined…”

The words tumbled out, fueled by a potent mix of arousal and vulnerability. “I imagined you lying on the bed, all naked, wearing nothing but your black hold-up tights… And I was spying on you. You had your legs open and I saw your pink lady hole and I imagined that I would hold my rock hard dick real close to you and I couldn’t hold back and I came on you and how it all came out spurting… and I then I felt hornier and hornier and I just couldn’t wait till you got home…”

Her laughter was a low, throaty rumble, a confirmation of my deepest fantasies. “You mean… like… you wanted to come on my bits?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“Hmm, I guess so. I mean, sometimes I think it’s a pity I can’t see your pussy when we make love…” I confessed, my voice barely a whisper.

“Oh you silly boy,” she giggled, pulling me closer, her body radiating heat. “Why didn’t you ask me? I might have let you.”

The thought of her granting my request, of her embracing my darkest desires, sent a jolt of electricity through me. “I didn’t dare… It seemed like a silly thing to do. Besides, I wasn’t sure if you would like it. It’s a bit… childish. And wasn’t sure if you had enjoyed it.”

Silence descended between us, heavy with unspoken longing. Then, without warning, she said, “So you want me to put my tights on?”

“Oh, honey…” I breathed, my body trembling with anticipation.

“Well, look away then, close your eyes, and I might surprise you,” she instructed, her voice a silken invitation.

I obeyed, focusing on her scent, the warmth of her skin, the rhythm of her breathing. I heard the rustle of fabric as she moved around, a muffled shuffle followed by a whispered, “How about this?”

And there she was, lying on the bed, her legs parted, her pussy partially visible beneath the dark fabric of her hold-up tights. The sight was intoxicating, a perfect embodiment of my most fervent fantasies. The angle was exactly as I’d envisioned, a tantalizing glimpse of what lay beneath. I was utterly consumed by desire, my control slipping away with each passing moment.

“Oh, sweetie, would you mind… could you just open yourself a bit so I can see everything…” I murmured, my voice thick with anticipation.

Slowly, deliberately, she ran her hands down her stomach, through the dense folds of her tights, pulling them apart with her fingers, revealing more and more of her delicate flesh. Her eyes locked onto mine, a silent challenge, an invitation to indulge my darkest desires. She groaned softly, a primal sound of pleasure. “I want to see your face when you come. And tell me what you are doing!”

The heat intensified, building to a fever pitch. “Ahm… I can see everything, but I can’t get close enough to you…” I replied, my voice strained, unable to resist the urge to reach out and touch her. The angle wasn't right for what I was planning to do, a frustrating limitation in the face of such overwhelming desire.

Then, she laughed, a sharp, joyous sound, and grabbed a plush velvet cushion from the nightstand. She placed it carefully beneath her rear end, adjusting its position until it provided the perfect support, the perfect angle for my gaze. “Is this better?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh, perfect,” I managed to choke out, my senses overwhelmed by the sight before me.

And there I was, holding my cock high, a silent declaration of my intentions. My gaze lingered on her exposed pussy, on the delicate curve of her labia, on the vibrant pink of her lady hole. I dipped inside, slowly, deliberately, savoring the sensation of her warmth against my skin. Then, with a surge of primal instinct, I pulled my cock out, presenting it for her inspection. It was wet, glistening with her juices, a testament to the arousal she had unleashed within me.

The heat built further, a crescendo of pleasure and anticipation. At that moment, I abandoned all pretense, succumbing entirely to my desires. The plan, the fantasy, all faded away, replaced by an overwhelming urge to lose myself in her pleasure. It was an instinctive act, a release of pent-up tension, a surrender to the raw, unbridled force of lust.

“Oh, honey, tell me what you see…” she whispered, her voice husky with pleasure.

I struggled to articulate my thoughts, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. “Oh sweetie, I love you so much! I love the sight of your pussy. I wanted you to spread it open and see your pussy lips; that little button of a clitoris and the hole where our babies came out. I love the smell of it and I love the taste of it. You don’t know how sexy you are… I want to look at your pussy when I’m coming; I want to see how I squirt my seed all over you. I can feel how hard I am, I can feel my sperm wanting to shoot out and cover you. I’m holding my dick and I’m going to point it at you… I will squirt on your fingers and let it run down to your hole… Oh honey, I’m coming!!!”

The words tumbled out in a torrent of arousal, fueled by an uncontrollable desire. At that point, I couldn’t hold back any longer, and my cock began to jerk involuntarily. White blobs of semen erupted from my urethra, showering her pussy in a torrent of pleasure. Natalie let out a small squeak and thrust her hip forward in rhythm with my ejaculation, her body writhing with delight.

Then, she cried out, “Please push it in!”

Without hesitation, I pushed my cock inside her, plunging it deep into her receptive flesh. Natalie was wet from her juices as much as from mine, her pussy lips wide open, slick with anticipation. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and power. For a long time, we remained locked in this intimate embrace, our bodies moving in perfect synchronicity, lost in the throes of passionate pleasure. Her hips moved subtly, like tiny pistons, drawing me deeper and deeper into her embrace. I felt as if I was penetrating her, reversing the usual leak, sucking her in with every thrust. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, a complete surrender to the moment.

Finally, we broke free from the intensity, drawn together by the shared experience. We kissed deeply, our tongues intertwined, our bodies trembling with exhaustion and pleasure. We lay there, intertwined, looking at each other, lost in the aftermath of our passion.

Then, she smiled wryly. “Before I forget, honey… Here’s something else for you.”

She reached under the pillow and pulled out a pair of black panties, the exact same pair that my confession had been about. She held them out to me mockingly. “Here’s something to mop up with, love… This time when I do the laundry I won’t be baffled why they feel so crusty!”

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