Forbidden Fruit Weekend

The silence in our bedroom felt thick, heavy with unspoken needs and months of neglect. The kids were blissfully unaware, tucked away at their grandparents’ house, leaving Ray and me alone in the aftermath of a stupid argument about carpools. It had been a stupid argument, fueled by exhaustion and the slow erosion of our connection, but it had also been the catalyst we needed. We needed to remind ourselves why we had chosen to build a life together, why we still found each other desirable. So, we’d packed a bag, grabbed a bottle of wine, and driven out to the coast, seeking a few days of escape and reconnection.

The check-in at the inn was efficient, the room clean and smelled faintly of lavender. After dropping off our bags, we took a long walk along the beach, the salty air whipping through our hair, and the rhythmic crash of the waves washing away the tension of the day. As we turned back toward the inn, the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. It was then that I suggested we open the wine.

The bottle uncorked with a satisfying pop, releasing a fragrant aroma of dark berries and spice. We settled into bed, the plush linens cool against our skin, and uncorked the bottle. As the wine flowed, the conversation started slow, hesitant, but gradually became more animated as we reminisced about better times, about stolen kisses and passionate nights. As the alcohol loosened our inhibitions, I found myself stripping off my clothes, revealing my smooth, tanned skin. I looked over at Ray, and he was already starting to heat up, a flush creeping up his neck.

“You know,” I said, my voice husky, “you always have been good at making me feel things.”

He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. “And you, my dear, have always been a challenge.”

I took a deep breath and asked him to massage my back, and he didn’t hesitate. His hands, calloused from years of working with wood, found their way to my lower back, kneading and pressing with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The tension in my muscles melted away as he worked, and I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes. Soon, he was getting aroused himself, his breathing becoming more rapid, his gaze intense. I could feel the heat radiating off him, a tangible sign of his desire. As he continued to massage me, my bra came off, and I let out a small moan. It was then that I had an idea.

“Strip down,” I instructed, my voice low and suggestive. “Let’s see what you really want.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly removed his t-shirt and boxers, leaving him stark naked and vulnerable. I quickly removed my own panties, then generously applied almond oil to my breasts, stomach, and pelvic area. The scent of the oil filled the room, intoxicating and sensual. With Ray lying face down on the bed, I straddled him, my breasts pressing against his chest, my hips swaying gently. The feeling was exquisite, a delicious blend of power and submission.

I began massaging his back with my breasts, the soft pads of my nipples brushing against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Ray groaned, his muscles tensing under my touch. I could feel his arousal escalating, his body responding to my touch with increasing urgency. It was then that I realized that I was getting turned on too, the act of pleasuring him becoming a source of immense satisfaction for me as well.

As the minutes ticked by, I continued to tease and torment him, knowing that I needed to maintain control. Finally, I asked him to roll over, and as he did, I grabbed his erect member in my oiled hands, slowly and deliberately stroking him. The feel of his head against my palm was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. I watched his face change, the anticipation building into an unbearable tension. He was so hard, so completely consumed by his desire, that he could barely breathe.

I altered my speed and pressure as his stiff shaft slid effortlessly through my fingers. I gripped him even harder, determined to prolong the pleasure. I watched the pleasure build in his face, his eyes wide with lust, his body arching in response to my touch. It was then that I realized I wanted him to stay in me for a long time, savoring every moment of this intense encounter. Ray played with my nipples as I continued to pleasure him, my own body trembling with anticipation.

Soon, Ray was thrusting his hips to meet my long strokes, and I started talking naughty to him, telling him how big his cock was and how hot and hard it felt in my hands. I also told him what I wanted him to do with it and how good it was going to feel inside me. Almost instantly, he let out a moan, a guttural sound of pure pleasure, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Small ripples of pleasure started going off deep in my core, but I wasn’t ready for it to end just yet.

I watched Ray’s face flush with pleasure and beaming with pride as he stroked and pounded me. I told him how good he was as a lover and how good his cock felt inside me. Just as I was about to cum, he found a gear that had been missing for quite some time. I yelled for him to fuck me even harder, but had no idea if that was even possible, but didn’t care. Soon, I shook and quivered as wave after wave of sheer pleasure took over my body. I cried out when I could not hold on any longer, then lost all control. I was just conscious enough to know Ray came soon after I did, and even more loudly.

After our breathing returned to normal, we just lay in each other’s arms in silence for quite some time, savoring what had just shared. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of us, lost in the aftermath of our passion. After some time, we agreed that this weekend had been long, long overdue. We promised each other to do a better job keeping our focus on our marriage in the future. The drive home was filled with comfortable silence, punctuated by the occasional brush of our hands and the lingering scent of almond oil. As we pulled into our driveway, I knew that this weekend had not only rekindled our physical intimacy but had also strengthened the emotional connection that bound us together. It was a reminder that even in the midst of the daily grind, there was always room for passion, desire, and the simple pleasure of being completely lost in each other.

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Forbidden Fruit Weekend

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