Dermatology Day & Wet Dreams

The rain hammered against the windows of our sprawling California home, a relentless rhythm that mirrored the insistent throb in my own body. It was one of those mornings, the kind where the air hung thick and heavy with anticipation, and every nerve ending felt exquisitely sensitive. Jim was preparing for his annual dermatology appointment – a ritual he oddly cherished, mainly due to his doctor’s physique and the casual, suggestive comments she made. He’d confided in me that she had a “great rack” and legs that stretched all the way up to her ass, a detail he found endlessly amusing and, frankly, a source of endless titillation for me. We had a comfortable, almost aggressively open relationship, full of playful teasing and blatant desires that fueled our passion.

The thought of him leaving for his appointment, missing me, was a potent mix of longing and frustration. So, as he stepped into the shower, oblivious to the slow burn building within me, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Stripping naked, I descended to the foot of our king-sized bed, sinking onto the plush velvet, my legs splayed wide, and my clitoris practically begging for attention. The cool air kissed my skin, intensifying the heat that already radiated from within. I began to caress my wet, trembling flesh, lost in the anticipation of what was to come. The rhythmic movements, the slow, deliberate exploration, brought a delicious ache, a promise of pleasure just out of reach. It was perfect, this moment of shared intimacy, this silent signal of my desire.

The bathroom door swung open, and there he was, a silhouette framed by the steamy light, wrapped in a fluffy white towel. He moved with a languid grace, a careless confidence that always managed to send shivers down my spine. "You have a gift for me before I see my ‘favorite’ doctor," I purred, my voice a low, suggestive rumble. “Now bring me that thick cock and make it disappear down my throat.”

He paused, his eyes widening slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, my God,” he breathed, his voice thick with arousal. “You look so hot, and your cunt is dripping wet. I hate even leaving you now.” The sight of him, stark naked and vulnerable, filled me with an almost unbearable pleasure.

“Enough talking,” I commanded, my voice laced with urgency. “I’m dying to suck you dry, so bring it to me and fuck my face hard. You can shake any cum ropes I can’t swallow on my tits, and I’ll rub it in as I’m cumming.” My words were a direct challenge, a blatant invitation to indulge my deepest fantasies.

His eyes rolled back in his head, a primal instinct taking over as he launched himself into my open mouth. The force of his entry was immediate, a violent, delicious violation that sent waves of pleasure surging through my body. He began to thrust deep, relentless, his movements powerful and forceful. I instinctively reached out, gripping the back of his head, pulling him closer, deepening the penetration. The heat intensified, the friction building, the anticipation reaching fever pitch.

As he continued his assault, a torrent of thick, warm cum exploded from his member, flooding my mouth, my throat, my entire being. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, a torrent of raw, unadulterated pleasure. I gagged slightly, overwhelmed by the intensity, but I couldn’t pull away. There was something utterly captivating about this moment, this complete surrender to the moment's sensations.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he pulled out, his cock now noticeably smaller, softened by the exertion. He lay beside me on the bed, his breathing heavy, his body trembling with pleasure. “Oh, my God, that was the best climax I ever had!” he gasped, his voice hoarse. “After I rest a minute, I’ll eat that sopping wet pussy of yours,” he promised, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

I arched my back, pulling three fingers from my vagina, extending them towards him as a silent invitation. “Open up for Creamy Patty,” I whispered, my voice dripping with desire. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, I wiped the inside of his mouth with my juice-soaked fingers, savoring the lingering taste of his pleasure.

“I have to get going too, so be sure to say hi to your favorite doctor for me, sweetheart,” I said, a mischievous glint in my eyes as I rose to my feet and began to wiggle my hips, letting my legs brush against the sheets. I moved slowly, deliberately, drawing attention to my generous curves, leaving no doubt about my intentions.

He watched me, mesmerized, as I sauntered towards the door, my movements both graceful and provocative. As I left the room, I heard him call out, "Don't forget to let her know about those multiple intense orgasms!" The thought of his doctor’s examination, designed to maximize pleasure, added another layer of excitement to the situation.

Later that afternoon, he returned, looking slightly flustered and visibly aroused. His examination was thorough, intense, and utterly satisfying, as he expertly manipulated his body to achieve multiple, prolonged orgasms. The experience left him weak and spent, but also completely fulfilled. He returned to the bedroom, seeking me out, his touch lingering as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.

"You were right," he murmured against my ear, "that was incredible." He kissed me deeply, savoring the moment, the lingering scent of our shared pleasure filling the air. The rain continued to fall outside, a constant reminder of the passionate encounter we’d just shared, and the anticipation that would inevitably lead to another. It was a perfect day, a perfect moment, a perfect expression of our unique and unapologetically lustful relationship.

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