Wet Heat, Rough Touch (L/A)

The rain hammered against the windows, a relentless rhythm that mirrored the ache building within me. It had been a brutal week at the firm, a relentless assault on my sanity and endurance. Every deal felt like a battle, every client a demanding titan. Finally, Saturday morning arrived, a blessed reprieve from the corporate grind. As I stepped through the door of our home, the scent of lavender and simmering coffee hung in the air, a welcome contrast to the sterile atmosphere of my office. My wife, Sarah, was out running errands, leaving me with the solitude I desperately craved.

I stripped down in the master bedroom, the cool tile a sharp relief against my sweat-slick skin. The hot shower was an immediate balm, the water cascading over me, washing away the day's anxieties and tensions. As the water cooled, the knot in my stomach began to loosen, replaced by a languid sense of relaxation. I let the warmth seep into my muscles, each drop a tiny rebellion against the week's relentless pressure. The sensation was primal, instinctive, a welcome return to a simpler time.

As I finished rinsing, I noticed something unexpected: my cock had become hard, unyielding, a stark reminder of the desires simmering beneath my professional exterior. It felt amplified, larger than usual, fueled by the pent-up energy of the past few days. I stood there for a moment, considering my options, a strange mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within me. There was a part of me that wanted to resist, to maintain control, but another part, a far more insistent voice, urged me to give in to the temptation.

Slowly, deliberately, I began to stroke it, my fingertips tracing the ridges and curves with exquisite care. Each movement was a conscious choice, a deliberate act of pleasure. It wasn't a frenzied, desperate act, but a slow, sensual exploration, savoring every inch of sensation. The warmth spread through my body, igniting a fire within me that threatened to consume me entirely. My thoughts drifted to the pleasures we had shared, the intimacy that lay beneath the surface of our busy lives.

Just as I was lost in this private reverie, the bedroom door swung open, shattering the spell. Sarah stood there, a playful glint in her eyes, a shopping bag slung over her shoulder. The look on her face was a mixture of amusement and anticipation, a silent challenge that both thrilled and slightly unnerved me. Caught red-handed, I froze, unsure of what to do.

Instead of recoiling, as I might have expected, I simply met her gaze, holding her attention with a silent invitation. There was a knowing look in her eyes, an unspoken understanding of my desires. Without a word, I continued to stroke my cock, the rhythm more insistent now, fueled by her presence.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked, her voice soft, laced with a playful provocation.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding, "Fuck, no!" The words were a release, a declaration of my intentions. Her smile widened, a flash of white teeth against her tanned skin, and she moved closer, her steps deliberate and graceful. She bent down, leaning in to kiss me, her lips brushing against my ear.

“You know what you want, don't you?” she whispered, her voice husky with desire.

As her kiss deepened, I felt a surge of heat course through my veins. The pleasure intensified, becoming almost unbearable. Her hand reached out, gently taking my balls in her mouth, sucking rhythmically, applying pressure as I continued to pump my cock. The sensation was overwhelming, a chaotic mix of pleasure and pain, a perfect storm of sensations that left me breathless. The combination of oral stimulation and manual stimulation was an experience unlike any other.

After a few minutes of this intense pleasure, she withdrew her hand, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She moved to the bedside drawer, rummaging through the contents until she retrieved a small, vibrator. She lubricated it generously with a scented gel, applying it to my anus. The scent of vanilla filled the air, adding another layer of sensuality to the experience.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked, her voice laced with anticipation.

The idea was both exhilarating and slightly terrifying. We hadn’t explored this territory before, but the thought of her exploring my deepest desires was incredibly arousing. "Yes, please!" I moaned, my voice thick with anticipation.

As she slid the vibrator into my rectum, the sensation was electric, a jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure. The vibrations intensified, creating a throbbing sensation that radiated throughout my entire body. It was as if my senses were heightened, every nerve ending alive and tingling.

"Oh, baby, that feels so fucking good!" I cried out, unable to contain my excitement.

Her smile widened, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I love watching you stroke your cock," she purred, her voice dripping with desire.

The vibrations grew stronger, more insistent, pushing me closer to the brink of ecstasy. The pleasure became overwhelming, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to drown me. My body convulsed uncontrollably, every muscle twitching and contracting in response to the intense stimulation. I was lost in a world of pure sensation, unable to think, unable to feel anything but the exquisite pleasure that surged through my veins.

As the peak of the orgasm approached, my wife gently squeezed my balls, increasing the pressure and intensifying the sensation. It was a final push, a crescendo of pleasure that left me gasping for breath. A torrent of cum erupted from my body, spraying across the bedspread in a golden shower.

After a few minutes to recover, she smiled and asked, "So, should I take you for granted that you like ass-play?"

"Apparently," I replied, "How about you?"

She gave me that devil-may-care smile, but that’s another story. The rain continued to fall outside, a constant reminder of the world beyond our bedroom. But for now, lost in the aftermath of our shared pleasure, there was only us, and the undeniable connection we shared. The world outside could wait; we had found solace and release within the confines of our sanctuary, a testament to the power of desire and intimacy. The lingering warmth of the experience served as a potent reminder of the pleasure we had just shared, and a promise of more to come.

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