Midnight Echoes

The rain hammered against the windows of the hotel room, a relentless percussion accompanying the lingering heat of the night. My wife, Sarah, lay beside me, still breathing softly, her dark hair fanned out across the pillow. We’d spent the evening lost in the throes of a loud concert and the intoxicating haze of cheap champagne, a rare escape from the demands of our lives. Now, hours later, the remnants of that frenzy clung to us, a sticky, pleasurable residue. I shifted slightly, a silent invitation, and felt her warmth against my side. It wasn’t often we had this kind of solitude, this uninterrupted connection, and the thought sent a shiver of anticipation through me.

I turned onto my side, careful not to disturb her, and nestled closer, my back pressed against her. The scent of her sleep – a delicate blend of lavender and something uniquely her – filled my senses. I’d always found her beauty captivating, not in the conventional sense of perfect symmetry or flawless features, but in the way she moved, the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, the sheer force of her personality. She stood 5’3”, a touch shorter than my 6’3”, but the difference in height only amplified the feeling of intimacy when I held her close. The years had softened her edges, adding a gentle curve to her hips and a subtle rounding to her breasts, but the core essence of her remained, a vibrant, passionate spirit.

I watched her sleep, picturing the effortless grace with which she moved around the kitchen back home, the way her jeans molded to her curves as she leaned over the counter, chopping vegetables. I’d often find myself lingering behind her, my hand resting lightly on her pocket, just to feel the subtle firmness of her backside beneath the fabric. I’d tell her I was just warming my hands, a playful justification for my desire, but she knew, and she secretly enjoyed the attention. Her breasts were magnificent, soft and sensitive, perfectly proportioned and undeniably alluring. I loved seeing her naked, but it was the moments in between, the glimpses of vulnerability, that truly ignited my desire. The slight cleavage at the top of her blouse, the sway of her hips as she walked, the way she looked in a simple tank top – these were the details that held me captive. They didn’t need lace or elaborate displays; the raw, natural beauty of her form was far more captivating.

I reached out, my hand sliding beneath the covers, and gently brushed my fingers against her panty-covered skin. She didn't stir, lost in the depths of sleep, her breathing a slow, rhythmic exhale. Feeling emboldened, I shifted my hand until I cupped her right cheek, feeling the warmth radiating from her body. Her skin was soft, yielding, and perfectly smooth. I held my breath, anticipating a sharp reaction, but she remained undisturbed. She was clearly exhausted from the day, and the alcohol and the concert had finally worn her down.

I reached behind her, pulling her legs up and closer, and then slid my fingers beneath her bikini briefs, feeling the thin fabric against my fingertips. The heat of her body was intense, almost overwhelming. I found a small bulge beneath the fabric, and my breath caught in my throat. It was her clitoris, and it was hard and eager. I held my breath, savoring the anticipation, and then, with a gentle touch, began to stroke her gently, teasing her sensitive flesh. She groaned softly, a low rumble that vibrated through her body. My arousal intensified, a wave of primal pleasure washing over me.

Slowly, deliberately, I moved my hand down to the underside of her breasts, then reached around and gently cupped the bottom of her breast, feeling the swell of her body beneath my fingertips. She groaned again, a little louder this time, and shifted her legs slightly, pulling them closer to her stomach. I remained still, focusing on the exquisite sensation of her skin against my hand, letting the moment build. After a while, I let my finger stretch out, tracing the contours of her nipple, feeling its hard, sensitive peak. It was perfectly primed for pleasure, and I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it.

My cock hardened, fueled by a potent mixture of desire and a mischievous thrill. The thought of indulging in some forbidden pleasure was incredibly enticing, but I resisted the urge to wake her, wanting to prolong the experience as long as possible. I moved my hand back down to her hip, then let it slip slowly down her leg, feeling the way her skin tightened as it descended. She had rolled forward slightly, her left leg stretched out straight and her right bent at the knee, but her weight was now pressing against the sheets. My hand continued its journey down, finding its way to her sex, the warmth radiating from her body intense and intoxicating. Because of her shift, I could now run my fingers over her pussy, feeling the heat and moisture that she had just released. First one, then two fingers, then three, sliding in and out, exploring the depths of her pleasure. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of friction and sensitivity.

She moaned as I rubbed my lips against her lips, and her hips began to move against my touch, arching her back and pulling her closer. Her hair brushed against my face, a soft, feathery caress. Peaches and cream, I thought, as I took in the beauty of her body. I lowered my head, placing it almost on top of hers, cheek to cheek, feeling the warmth of her breath on my skin. Her hips continued to rock against my hand, a rhythm that intensified my pleasure. I knew she was close to losing control, and I didn’t want to break the spell.

“I want to fuck you so bad right now,” I murmured into her ear, my voice thick with desire.

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice breathless, “Oh God, yes!”

Without hesitation, I added a third finger to the fray, feeling her muscles tense and her body arch in anticipation. Her pussy stretched eagerly, full and primed for release, and her moans escalated into a series of desperate cries. I continued my pace, drawing out her orgasm, savoring every sensation, and I loved the sounds she made. Finally, I slowed my hand and then stopped, holding her breath as we both caught our breath.

She giggled, a soft, breathless sound, as I pulled my fingers from her pussy. She grabbed my hand and brought my fingers to her mouth, licking them clean with a frenzied hunger. I thought she loved the taste of her juices as much as I did, and I certainly did. No sooner was she done with my fingers than I sat up in bed, rolled her onto her back, and ripped her panties down her legs, sending them flying across the room. Throwing them aside, I pulled my shorts off, spread her legs, and quickly entered her.

She gasped at the suddenness of my sexual assault, but grabbed my hips and pulled me in deeper, her body arching against my thrusts. She shifted her hips, changing the angle of our frantic lovemaking, and I began pumping in and out, feeling the heat and moisture of her arousal intensify. Her body was tired, but it desperately wanted to feel again the wonderful shock of pleasure that she had just experienced.

“Make as much noise as you want,” I gasped, between thrusts, “Let the neighbors know someone’s getting fucked hard tonight!”

The bed was shaking with our bodies, the headboard pressing against the wall. We had not had sex this hard or fast in a long time, and it was exhilarating. In an instant, we came together, our bodies stiffening and crying out. Waves of joy washed over me, and I felt myself falling off her, not rolling off, but collapsing into her embrace.

She nestled her head on my heaving chest as we caught our breath, her body trembling with pleasure. “That was amazing,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I wondered if you’d be able to make it until morning.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I said, my voice raw with emotion.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with affection. “I love you so much. I can’t wait to see what you do for an encore.”

Did you like this story? Midnight Echoes look, but like these, here Story taboo sex.