Hump Day Heatwave (L)

The rain hammered against the windows, a relentless rhythm mirroring the insistent thrum in my veins. It was Hump Day, and the thought alone sent a shiver of anticipation through me. My husband, Mark, had been buried in his workshop all afternoon, lost in the scent of sawdust and metal, oblivious to the simmering heat building within me. When he finally emerged, smelling faintly of oil and leather, he was a god among mortals.

I’d showered just moments before, letting the hot water strip away the last vestiges of the workday, leaving me feeling raw and exposed, eager for release. My hair was pulled back in a messy bun, my makeup minimal, just a touch of mascara to emphasize the dark circles under my eyes – a testament to my longing. I wore a simple black silk slip, clinging to my curves, a silent invitation for the pleasure to come.

As he walked through the doorway, the scent of his cologne, a heady blend of sandalwood and spice, hit me like a wave. He leaned in, his breath warm against my neck, and kissed me deeply, a slow, deliberate exploration that sent sparks dancing across my skin. Then, without warning, he grabbed my breasts, pulling them taut and squeezing with deliberate force. It wasn’t gentle, it was possessive, demanding. I arched my back against the bed, my pleasure quickly escalating with each squeeze.

He moved on, his hands tracing the contours of my nipples, each touch sending a jolt of electricity through my body. The pressure built, intensifying until I could only breathe through clenched teeth. He grinned, a predatory glint in his eyes, and whispered against my ear, “I sure would love a taste of you.”

“I think that can be arranged,” I purred, my voice thick with desire. As I relaxed back onto the bed, anticipating his touch, a wicked thought occurred to me. The house was empty, save for us. The perfect setting for a descent into pure, unadulterated lust.

“The house is empty,” I said, my voice laced with a playful challenge. “Why don’t we take this to the living room on the ottoman?” The worn leather of the ottoman, a favorite spot for our intimate encounters, felt like a promise of what was to come. Mark’s eyes lit up with understanding, and he nodded eagerly.

We moved to the living room, laying down a soft, plush blanket over the ottoman. As he undressed, shedding his shirt and trousers with an almost indecent haste, another idea took root. I reached for my phone, the sleek black surface cool against my palm. Setting it to record audio, I placed it discreetly on the couch, angled towards the center where we would be positioned. A silent witness to our passion.

I slid onto the edge of the ottoman, pulling Mark close, my hands reaching out to grasp and squeeze his ass. Simultaneously, I began to lick and suck his throbbing cock, the frantic rhythm mirroring the pounding in my own chest. I grabbed his testicles in my right hand, pulling them taut and wrapping my index finger and thumb tightly around the base of his shaft. With my left hand, I held the middle of his shaft, twisting and tugging, feeling the muscles contract with each movement. My mouth moved in frantic circles around the head of his purple cock, savoring every inch. It was a symphony of pleasure, a desperate need for release that threatened to consume us both.

Just before he reached the brink, he pulled away from my mouth, sitting on the floor between my legs. He began to feast on my swollen, juicy pussy, his movements confident and skilled. "Oh baby, I love this," he moaned, his voice raw with pleasure. "Oh fuck, it feels so good!"

He licked from the bottom all the way to the top, his tongue a relentless explorer mapping the landscape of my pleasure. Then, he delivered those wonderful soft circles on my clit, each touch igniting a fresh wave of ecstasy. Next, he thrust his tongue deep into my eager pussy, the sensation both overwhelming and exquisite. I let out a primal scream, the sound ripped from my throat as my first orgasm hit.

As the initial wave subsided, I caught my breath, sinking further into the depths of pleasure. But before I could fully succumb, another wave of sensation began to build, pushing me closer to the edge.

“Oh baby, oh baby, oh God, you’re so good," I whimpered, my voice strained with pleasure. "Mmmm, ohhhhh yea, right there! Hold it, now slow, now deep, more, more, yes, more! Oh, deeper, deeper, ohhhhh yessss now hold it–right there!!” I let out a full-throated scream, “ohhhhh fuuuck, I’m cumming!!”

I couldn’t stop. My body thrashed uncontrollably, my hips rocking and grinding against him as I fought to maintain control. As my orgasm finally released its grip, I caught my breath, my senses reeling. But before I could fully recover, another wave of sensation built within me, threatening to overwhelm me once again.

“Oh baby, oh baby, oh God, you’re so good. Mmmm, ohhhhh yesss!” I cried out, my voice hoarse. “Hold it!! Now move faster, faster, ohhh fuuuck!!” I grabbed his hand and held it deep inside me, guiding him, desperate to prolong the pleasure. I needed to make this orgasm last as long as possible, savoring every second of its intensity.

“Oh, ohhhhhh, mmmmmmm, yes, yeeeeessss!” I screamed, holding his fingers deep inside me. I could feel my pussy contracting and gripping tightly around them! I was suspended in time, lost in the moment, completely consumed by the desire that burned within me. As my second orgasm ended, I said, “I want you inside me NOW!”

He climbed on top of me, taking the intimate missionary position. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, our bodies locked in a passionate embrace. He thrust his hips into me, a slow, deliberate rhythm that built anticipation with each movement. I arched my back, responding to his every thrust, letting out moans of pleasure as we moved together, lost in the heat of the moment.

“Oh baby, your pussy feels so incredible! You’re so warm and tight!” he moaned, his voice thick with desire. “You’re so good!” He kept thrusting long and hard, his movements relentless, pushing me further and further towards the brink.

Then, he said, “Hey, I’m still hard. Would you like to jump on and take a ride?” The question hung in the air, laced with invitation and challenge. Without hesitation, I replied, “Heck yeah, babe!”

He sat straight up on the couch, and I mounted my stud for a ride. I grabbed the back of the couch and thrust my big boobs in his face as I bounced up and down, my movements frantic and playful. This was going to be a bumpy ride, for sure! He moaned and squeezed my ass, responding to my every move, thrusting his hips up to meet my pussy as I came down each time.

“Oh baby, I’m cumming again! OH! Oh, mmmmmmm, oh! Oh, fuuuck!!” I screamed, lost in the throes of pleasure.

I rode the wave of my orgasm, then I turned around and leaned way over on the ottoman, my body suspended precariously over the edge. He leaned forward with his feet on the floor, supporting my weight as I continued to bounce and writhe. My hands were clasped around the ottoman, bracing myself against its rough surface. As he began to thrust hard, pounding my pussy, I felt an uncontrollable urge to lose all control, to abandon myself to the sensations washing over me.

“Oh baby, you’re so good,” he groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. “You’re so warm and tight!” I continued to arch my back, responding to his every thrust, letting out moans of ecstasy as we moved together, lost in the heat of the moment. It was an explosion of sensation, a primal release that left us both breathless and trembling.

“Oh yes yes yes. Oh, YEESSS!” He let out a loud groan. “Oh fuuuck, baby!”

I felt him erupt inside me, his cum bursting into my body, a torrent of pleasure that drowned out all other sensation. Once he had pumped it all into me, I lay back on the bed, exhausted but exhilarated. He leaned over and fingered me with the hot cum flowing out of me, his touch both gentle and insistent. I felt a wave of calm wash over me, a sense of complete and utter satisfaction. As my body relaxed, I remembered the recording. “Oh, babe, by the way, I saved this moment for our listening pleasure.”

He looked surprised and said, “You did? Wow! I’m going to listen and count how many orgasms you had today!” Both of us had lost track.

He listened right away, meticulously counting my orgasms. He estimated that we had experienced twenty in total. I didn’t care. I was just so happy to have experienced so much pleasure. All I knew was it was an amazing time! I listened the next day, too, out of curiosity, and discovered that my sounds – the screams, moans, and whimpers – differed significantly depending on whether I was stimulated orally or through G-spot stimulation. The sounds also changed when we were engaged in our more primal acts of love. It was an unexpected discovery, but one that added another layer of excitement to our shared experience.

We waited for a week, savoring the memory of our intense encounter. Then, we decided to listen together again, hoping to rekindle the passion and inspire more intimate moments. We both got very turned on listening, and soon, we were back in the living room, ready to lose ourselves once more in the depths of our desires. Next time, perhaps we'll record the entire experience, capturing every moment for posterity. Who knows what the future holds? For now, we simply enjoyed the pleasure of each other's company and the exquisite sensation of our bodies moving in unison.

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