Forgotten First Dance Romance

The rain hammered against the windows of the Grandview Hotel, a relentless, insistent rhythm that mirrored the building tension in the room. It was 1992, and the echoes of Sarah and Mark’s wedding still hung in the air, a bittersweet blend of joy and lingering heat. We’d been close friends since college, and the invitation to sing their first dance song, “Wonderful Tonight,” had felt like a sacred trust. Now, here we were, my husband, David, and I, alone in our opulent suite, the remnants of the celebration clinging to us like damp velvet.

The girls, our two daughters, had crashed into bed hours ago, their innocent slumber a stark contrast to the simmering desire between David and me. It wasn’t a new feeling, this pull, this electric current that always surged between us when we were alone, unburdened by the responsibilities of parenthood. Tonight, it felt particularly potent, fueled by the shared experience of witnessing Sarah and Mark’s happiness, and the unspoken understanding that sometimes, the most intimate moments are born from observing the love of others.

We'd been dancing in our room, lost in the familiar comfort of our favorite band – The Rolling Stones – a ritual we used as a playful prelude to our own explorations of passion. David, a man who never shied away from pleasure, had expertly unzipped my dress, the cool silk sliding down my back, and the sight of my nude body, even in the dim light, sent a shiver of anticipation through me. His eyes, dark and intense, held a primal hunger that mirrored my own. I knew, with absolute certainty, that he was already hard, the evidence a subtle but undeniable tightening in his jaw.

As I slowly lowered myself onto the plush king-sized bed, I watched him meticulously remove his trousers, the fabric pooling around his ankles. The sight of his naked body, sculpted with the subtle strength of a craftsman, ignited a fire in my core. My ladyplace began to tingle, a warm, insistent pressure building with each passing second. I felt a desperate need to lose control, to surrender to the intoxicating pull of his gaze.

David, ever perceptive, noticed my mounting excitement. He laid down on his back, stretching languidly, a deliberate display of vulnerability that only served to heighten my arousal. Instinctively, I reached out, my hand tracing the contours of his back, the heat radiating from his skin sending shivers down my spine. As I did, I let loose, my wetness cascading over his legs, a silent invitation to join me in the depths of our shared pleasure.

“Oh, I like that,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire, “Wet me all over if you like.” The words were a command, a release, and I responded with abandon, my fingers tracing circles, deepening the pleasure as I moved lower, my touch lingering on the sensitive flesh of his lower back. The scent of his arousal, a heady mix of sweat and raw masculinity, filled my senses, intensifying the pleasure beyond measure.

“I have to do something for you now, sexy lady!” he declared, his voice laced with a playful challenge. I lay on my back, completely open to his ministrations, as he began to explore me, his hands moving with confident expertise. He caressed my body, building anticipation with each touch, before ascending to my breasts, gently teasing their sensitive skin. He moved his hands lightly over them, drawing out a moan from my lips, before descending to my cheeks, stealing kisses that sent sparks of pleasure rippling through my body.

“I want you to know how beautiful you are to me,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin, “You’re a very special woman, and I love you.” The declaration, spoken with such sincerity and raw emotion, melted away any remaining inhibitions. “Oh baby, kiss me! Let me show you how much I love you!” I arched into his arms, pulling him closer, surrendering completely to his embrace.

Then, he climbed on top of me, his weight pressing down, the anticipation building with every second. His hard member entered my wet ladyplace, and the world exploded in a symphony of sensation. The friction, the pressure, the sheer intensity of the moment left me breathless, consumed by a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

We held each other tight, locked in a passionate embrace, our bodies moving in a rhythmic dance of ecstasy. I rubbed his back while he rubbed mine, the friction building a powerful heat between our flesh. He thrust with a relentless force, each movement sending tremors through my body, pushing me closer to the brink. My climax arrived as a torrent of sensation, a volcanic eruption of pleasure that shook me to my core. I moaned, cried out in ecstasy, lost in the depths of the experience.

David wasn't ashamed to let out his own cries of pleasure, his muscles tensing with each thrust, his voice a primal roar of satisfaction. He continued his assault, driving deeper, making my climax even more intense, almost screaming with pure, unbridled joy. The sweat streamed down our bodies, mingling with tears of pleasure, a testament to the raw, uninhibited passion that consumed us.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, I felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion, my body trembling with the afterglow. We were both drenched in sweat, our breathing ragged, our bodies intertwined in a tangled mess of limbs. He kissed my neck, sliding his finger tips down the shiny, sweaty area between my breasts before placing both his arms around my waist, pulling me close for a tender cuddle.

Lying in bed, feeling the lingering heat of our encounter, I smiled, knowing that our family was blessed by this shared experience, a reminder of the deep connection that bound us together. As David drifted off to sleep, his arm draped protectively across my waist, I watched him, a sense of profound contentment washing over me. The rain continued to beat against the windows, a soothing soundtrack to our intimate moment, a perfect encapsulation of the pleasure we had shared. It had been a night of unbridled desire, of exquisite sensation, a perfect expression of our love and connection. The memory of the wedding, the shared joy, and now this, felt intertwined, a beautiful tapestry woven from moments of happiness and passion. The world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of David's body against mine, and the promise of countless more nights filled with similar delights.

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Forgotten First Dance Romance

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