Shulamite's Secret Desire

The rain hammered against the windows of our master bedroom, a relentless rhythm mirroring the anticipation thrumming through me. My wife, Seraphina, was a creature sculpted from moonlight and desire, a Shulamite blessed with an ever-increasing beauty that both captivated and intimidated me. Over the past five years, my love for her had grown into an insatiable hunger, a need that bordered on the primal. Tonight, she’d promised a surprise, a tantalizing tease that left me practically vibrating with need.

As she stepped through the door, her eyes sparkling with mischief, I knew exactly where she’d been. The scent of cheap perfume and cheap thrills clung to her, a faint reminder of the bachelorette party she’d attended, a party that, judging by the grin on her face, had included a generous selection of adult entertainment. I’d anticipated this, of course. My own little surprise was already in place, a subtle, silent invitation that I’d extended from behind her as she entered.

She moved with a practiced grace, her steps purposeful, directly towards our bed. The room was dark, the only light emanating from the city skyline visible through the rain-streaked glass. I’d stationed myself behind her, a shadow lurking in the corner, ready to unleash my carefully orchestrated pleasure. As she reached the bed, expecting me in the "RAW" position – alert, attentive, and utterly devoted – I gently kissed her neck. It wasn't the usual playful touch; this was a deliberate, measured act designed to ignite a fire within her.

Her body tensed, a ripple of electricity flowing through her veins. It was the same reaction as that one time last year, a single, electrifying moment that had left me breathless and desperate for more. Now, as I repeated the gesture, her frozen expression slowly melted into something akin to ecstasy.

“I so love that,” she breathed, her voice a husky whisper. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she turned and raised her dress, exposing a sliver of her pale skin. “I wonder,” she said, her voice dripping with challenge, “can you put those lips on these lips?”

I didn't hesitate. A slow, deliberate smile spread across my face. My own lips parted slightly as I glanced down at her wet panties, a silent acknowledgment of the game we were playing. “Most definitely, my queen,” I replied, my voice low and laced with desire.

With a swift, graceful movement, I lifted her up and gently placed her on our king-sized bed. My eyes scanned her body, taking in every curve, every contour, savoring the anticipation that filled the room. Her lower half was slowly, deliberately uncovered, revealing her beautiful, firm legs – a constant source of pleasure just thinking about them. And there, in the center of it all, a glistening, throbbing pussy, a dark invitation that I couldn’t resist.

“Please make out with my lower lips,” she squeamishly begged, her voice barely audible. It was a playful request, a further escalation of the game, and I answered with gusto.

I began by gently breathing on her wetness, the warm air sending shivers down her spine. As I reached her mound, I adorned her lower lips with soft, lingering kisses, punctuated by a low hum of vibration that promised untold delights. She moaned softly, her body arching slightly in response to my touch. "Oh yes. More please," she whimpered, her voice laced with pure, unadulterated pleasure.

I obliged, intensifying the stimulation, her moans escalating into a more insistent, demanding sound. "Oh, that feeling is f—ing good," she gasped, her eyes fluttering closed in ecstatic submission. "D— you, if you stop! Take me f—ing there!!!! Yes! F—!!!!!!!!” The word, usually reserved for moments of extreme pleasure, escaped her lips as she writhed and bucked, her body a willing instrument of my pleasure.

I didn't relent. Guided by her frantic pleas, I took her to "o-town," as she playfully called it, pushing her through every sensation, every possible peak of pleasure. She pushed my head back quickly, her breath ragged with exertion. “I so love that! I want your cock and I want it to do the vibration!”

Without hesitation, I stepped back and disrobed, my mind racing with the desire that consumed me. I pulled her dress over her head, then removed her bra, revealing her bare skin. My pre-cum, hard and curved, was ready for entry, but she had other plans. She got up and grabbed the new toy, the "wingman," a sleek, modern device designed to elevate the experience to new heights. She lubricated my cock with its cool, slick gel, and as I felt the blood rush through my veins, I knew this would be an unforgettable encounter. The device fit perfectly, amplifying the sensations as I slid it down me, her eager anticipation palpable.

Once positioned, she assumed her RAW position, her body trembling with anticipation. “Give me another one,” she demanded, her voice husky with desire. “I’m hungry for more.”

I entered her sheath, and as she pressed a button on the wingman, the experience took on an entirely new dimension. The vibrations intensified, escalating into a frenzied rhythm that sent shivers through my entire body. I plowed into her field with the desired level of passion, each thrust a surge of pleasure, each rotation a testament to her exquisite sensitivity.

Two minutes later, she exclaimed, “Oh, I’ve always wanted to know what your cock would feel like if it, oh yes, F— me!!!!!!!!!!!” Her words were a declaration of her deepest desires, a boundary I was more than happy to cross.

I had never witnessed her buck like this before. The sheer force of her spasms sent a delicious shiver down my spine. As she pushed my head back, her big ass bucking off the bed, I could feel my own pleasure building, a primal urge threatening to overwhelm me. “Oh F— yeah,” I muttered, unable to contain my excitement.

I increased the intensity of my strokes, feeling her orgasm building with each pump, her body arching and twisting in a desperate plea for release. Just her arching and her big ass bucking off the bed was enough to trigger my own impending explosion. "Oh F— yeah," she said, pushing me out with a final, desperate thrust. "What the He–?! Get it back in and f— me hard!” “You don’t have to tell me twice. I’m so ready to f— you hard!” I said, slamming my cock back into her southern mouth.

I restarted the rhythm, feeling her about to unload on me with another powerful orgasm. After a few more pumps and the joyous sounds of my sack slapping her pussy, we both let out a loud "F—," and I unleashed my payload into her bronco-bucking vagina.

We clasped together, clinging to each other as the final waves of pleasure subsided. I kissed her, holding her close, whispering my love into her ear. "Baby, I so love the kissing on the neck, the eating, and our new toy. But I am still a sucker for your cum. I just love it!!!" Thank you!!!!” Her voice was a sweet, breathless murmur, a perfect summation of our shared experience. As I looked into her eyes, filled with pleasure and desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our endless pursuit of pleasure. The rain continued to fall outside, but inside our bedroom, a world of warmth, passion, and exquisite sensation awaited us.

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