Face Mount: A Husband's Pleasure

The rain hammered against the windows of my small apartment, mirroring the insistent pounding in my chest. It wasn't just the weather; it was anticipation, a simmering heat that had been building for weeks, ever since I’d first laid eyes on her. Her name was Seraphina, and she was everything I’d ever dreamed of, and more. She was a whirlwind of dark curls, emerald eyes, and a body that whispered promises of pleasure and pain. We’d met at a dive bar downtown, a smoky, dimly lit haven for the lonely and the lustful. One look at her, and I knew I was lost.

Tonight, we were indulging in a particularly potent blend of desire and experimentation. We’d been discussing the concept of mutual pleasure, the idea that lovemaking shouldn't be a one-sided affair, but a dance of shared ecstasy. Seraphina, with her sharp intellect and even sharper senses, had suggested something a little out of the ordinary – mounting and riding her husband’s face. The thought alone sent shivers down my spine. It was both terrifying and exhilarating, a plunge into uncharted territory.

The rain intensified, a relentless torrent that seemed determined to drown out any rational thought. I paced nervously, trying to calm my racing pulse. Seraphina, however, seemed completely unfazed, radiating an aura of confident sensuality. She moved with a grace that bordered on predatory, her movements fluid and deliberate. She wore a simple black silk robe, clinging to her curves, and the moonlight cast long, dramatic shadows across her body as she circled me slowly, deliberately.

“Ready?” she purred, her voice husky with anticipation.

I swallowed hard, trying to regain my composure. "As I'll ever be," I managed to croak out, my voice thick with desire.

She smiled, a slow, deliberate curve of her lips that sent a jolt of electricity through my system. She stepped closer, her hand reaching out to gently caress my cheek. The touch was electrifying, igniting a fire in my loins.

“Let’s start with the basics,” she whispered, her breath warm against my skin. "You need to be confident, dominant. You're the one in control."

I nodded, feeling a surge of primal instinct take over. She began to slowly lower herself onto my face, her weight pressing down on my cheekbone. The sensation was initially awkward, slightly uncomfortable, but as she adjusted her position, a strange sense of intimacy took over. Her weight wasn’t aggressive, but supportive, as if she were embracing me, drawing me closer.

My hands moved instinctively, tracing the curve of her spine, feeling the soft rise and fall of her breasts against my chest. The scent of her perfume, a blend of musk and vanilla, filled my senses, intoxicating me further. I felt a strange sense of vulnerability, yet also a powerful sense of control. This wasn’t just about pleasure; it was about submission, about letting go of my inhibitions and surrendering to the moment.

Seraphina shifted slightly, her hips angling against my chin. Her breath warmed my lips as she leaned closer, her pink tongue exploring the sensitive skin around my nostrils. The sensation was both stimulating and slightly alarming, a violation of my personal space that somehow felt utterly right.

As she continued to mount, her weight increased, pressing down harder on my face. My muscles tensed, fighting against the pressure, but I didn’t resist. Instead, I closed my eyes and surrendered to the experience, letting my body respond instinctively. My hands tightened around her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine.

Her fingers began to caress my face, tracing the contours of my jawline, my cheekbones, my lips. The touch was gentle, yet insistent, a slow, deliberate exploration that ignited a burning desire within me. She began to suckle on my lower lip, her wetness spreading across my skin, causing a wave of pleasure to wash over me.

As she continued to ride, my body began to tremble uncontrollably. The heat was building, reaching a fever pitch, threatening to consume me entirely. I felt her fingers sliding down my throat, teasing my sensitive flesh, as she continued to explore, pushing me closer to the brink.

Suddenly, she leaned back slightly, pulling away from my face, but not before she had left a trail of wetness on my skin. She looked down at me, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and whispered, "How was that?"

I couldn’t speak, my voice caught in my throat by the sheer intensity of my pleasure. I simply nodded, unable to articulate the complex emotions swirling within me.

She let out a soft chuckle, then slowly lowered herself off my face, leaving me breathless and trembling. She stood before me, naked and radiant, her body glistening with sweat. She reached out and gently wiped away the remaining traces of her presence with the back of her hand.

“You were amazing,” she said, her voice soft and sincere. “You really know how to please a woman.”

I felt a surge of pride, a sense of accomplishment that went beyond mere physical satisfaction. This wasn't just a sexual encounter; it was an act of submission, an expression of my devotion to her.

As she turned to leave, she paused at the doorway, glancing back at me one last time. "Next time," she whispered, her voice laced with a playful challenge, "let's try a little higher."

With that, she disappeared into the shadows, leaving me alone in the rain-soaked apartment, my mind still buzzing with the echoes of pleasure and desire. The pounding in my chest had subsided, but the heat remained, a lingering reminder of the exhilarating experience we had just shared. The rain continued to fall, washing away the remnants of the night, but the memory of Seraphina's touch, the sensation of her weight on my face, would forever be etched in my mind, a testament to the power of mutual pleasure and the boundless depths of human desire. As I lay there, lost in thought, I knew one thing for sure: my nights would never be the same again.

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