Secret Shower Secrets (L)

The scent of expensive lavender hung heavy in the air, clinging to the plush velvet of the hotel room like a desperate lover. It was difficult enough to maintain composure when she stepped out of the shower, the water still clinging to her skin like a second layer. Looking in the oversized mirror, I admired her long, firm curves and ample breasts, a masterpiece sculpted by years of dedication and indulgence. My cock hardened under my towel as I shaved, marveling at my own Nordic physique – a solid 5’10” testament to my heritage, a stark contrast to the sheer abundance of her femininity.

But then, as she turned around, bending forward with a languid grace, giving me a deliciously graphic view of her backside, a primal urge, raw and insistent, threatened to consume me. It was an instinct so powerful, so immediate, that I had to steel myself, pushing it back for a moment as she busied herself with preparing for the evening’s gala. She was meticulous in her preparations, a creature of habit, leaving little time for impulsive desires.

Now, after completing my ritual of self-care, I moved into the main room, shedding my towel and donning a tailored suit. With the insistent throbbing of my cock still present, I allowed myself a brief, furtive self-pleasure session, savoring the anticipation before she finished getting ready. It felt almost sacrilegious to indulge while she meticulously applied her makeup, but the need was too strong to ignore.

As she finished, she dropped her towel, once again exposing her toned, naked body. Then, she began to dry her long, wavy, blonde hair, giving me ten precious minutes to revel in her nudity before she moved on to her attire. My Scandinavian beauty, a MILF at 46 years old, radiated an undeniable aura of sensuality, a captivating blend of power and vulnerability. Finally, she slipped into her black garter belt, clipping the matching thigh-high hose into place. Next came her black satin bra, expertly crafted to lift and push together her breasts, creating a breathtaking cleavage that left me breathless.

Following her makeup routine, she gazed at her reflection, a critical eye assessing every detail. Then, she reached for the dress hanging on the bathroom door behind her. I hadn’t yet seen it, but the anticipation was almost unbearable. She unzipped the dress and stepped into it, the fabric clinging to her slender waist and delightful curves, showcasing her magnificent breasts in all their glory. The dress, a masterpiece of Italian silk, possessed a daring slit that ran up her thigh, barely concealing her garter and hinting at the delights she intended to reveal. This was an incredibly sexy garment, designed to both entice and challenge.

As she turned to face me, sporting this provocative slit, her pussy was freshly shaven and smooth as glass. The thought, both shocking and exhilarating, filled me with a powerful desire. She rarely wore panties anymore, unless it was work or during her monthly cycle. Her philosophy had shifted; if someone caught a glimpse of her pussy, so be it. I'd witnessed similar situations firsthand, and I was beginning to understand her perspective.

Watching her slide into the dress, which hugged her form perfectly, it was clear that she intended to remain unadorned. She turned her head, presenting a tantalizing view of her rear end, a blatant invitation. The slit in the dress offered a glimpse of her lower body, a tantalizing tease that left me wanting more. She smirked, clearly relishing my attention.

“You look smokin’ hot, baby,” I announced from the other room, my voice a low rumble that vibrated through the air.

She giggled, a melodic sound that sent shivers down my spine.

“Does that slit show your hoo-ha?” I asked, unable to contain my excitement.

She smirked again, turning back to the mirror and lifting the dress slightly, just enough for me to catch a full view of her ample breasts.

“No, silly. No one can see my hoo-ha,” she quipped, her voice dripping with playful defiance.

“Are you gonna wear panties?” I teased, unable to resist the urge to stir the pot.

“Maybe I should?” she teased back, her eyes sparkling with mischievous delight.

“Or maybe you shouldn’t,” I retorted, pushing her buttons just for the pleasure of it.

She laughed, a genuine, infectious sound, and returned to her makeup. The tension in the room was palpable, a simmering heat that promised a fiery encounter.

And she did look dynamite, especially with those rosy cheeks. The dress begged for me to lose control, to succumb to the primal urges that threatened to overwhelm me. I wanted her, desperately, more than anything in the world.

But not yet. Not until the moment was right.

The gala was a whirlwind of champagne, caviar, and forced pleasantries. But all I could think about was my wife, and the overwhelming desire to possess her. All night long, wealthy men had attempted to catch her eye, showering her with compliments on her dress and her beauty. She had skillfully deflected their advances, maintaining an air of cool detachment while subtly hinting at her availability. She had caught glances from countless men, each vying for her attention, but she remained unmoved, a queen surveying her domain.

As the evening drew to a close, our eyes met across the crowded ballroom, and a silent understanding passed between us. We both knew what we wanted, what we needed – to escape the superficiality of the event and lose ourselves in the raw, unbridled pleasure of each other's company. We made our way to the elevator, finding a secluded corner amidst the throngs of partygoers.

As we ascended, we shared a passionate kiss, sealing our intentions. Upon reaching our room, no sooner had the door closed than I began to unzip the back of her dress, revealing her flawless skin beneath. The dress fell to the floor as we embraced, lost in a moment of intense desire. After removing her bra, I cupped her breasts and then ran my hands down her silky-smooth sides, over her hips, and down to her firm, round ass cheeks. I then gently caressed her pussy, discovering that her vagina was both warm and incredibly wet.

She moved with a captivating speed, removing my suit and pulling down my boxer briefs, leaving them crumpled on the floor near the door. Continuing our embrace, we approached the king-sized bed and collapsed onto it, seeking refuge in each other’s arms. I began by sucking on her large, pink nipples, driving her wild with my passionate pursuit. She moaned and spread her legs, inviting me to explore her pleasure. I swiftly settled between her legs, devouring her clit with my tongue, lost in the ecstasy of the moment.

“Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah… eat my pussy, baby,” she whimpered, her voice filled with desperate longing. As she began to cum, it was clear that she had been anticipating this moment for hours, preparing herself through rigorous self-stimulation and anticipation. Rarely did she utter those words, but the urgency in her voice confirmed her desire. She came hard, and her body shook with the force of her orgasm. I tasted her flowing juices and licked deeply, savoring her delicious taste.

“Oh my,” she whispered as I softened in her arms, overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience.

As her orgasm subsided, she looked at me with an expression of pure bliss, clearly craving more. But I knew that she understood my desires, and she was not afraid to indulge them. She quickly removed my suit and pulled down my boxer briefs, leaving them to lie discarded on the floor. Then, she positioned herself in a doggy-style stance, dropping to her elbows and knees, ready for my next assault.

“Fuck me hard and deep,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible. She reached for her wand vibrator and began to stimulate her clit, enhancing her pleasure and intensifying our mutual excitement. As she continued to cum, I continued to explore her body, focusing on her sensitive areas.

“Let me feel it, baby,” she moaned, her body arching in anticipation. As she reached the peak of her pleasure, I jammed my cock as deep as possible, pushing past her resistance, determined to satisfy her every whim. The sensation was intense, both exhilarating and overwhelming. The room filled with moans and gasps as we continued to ride, lost in the depths of our shared passion.

The climax hit hard, a wave of intense pleasure that left us both breathless and trembling. We lay there for a moment, clinging to each other, savoring the lingering sensations. Then, we rose slowly, savoring the aftermath of our passionate encounter. We took a shower together, washing away the remnants of the night, feeling refreshed and renewed. Afterward, we dressed and prepared for bed, seeking solace in each other's arms. As we snuggled beneath the covers, lost in a world of shared intimacy, we knew that this was just the beginning of our next adventure.

Did you like this story? Secret Shower Secrets (L) look, but like these, here Mom sex stories.