Bareback Blues: A Shortfall Affair

The rain hammered against the windows of our secluded cabin, a relentless rhythm mirroring the frantic beat of my heart. Three years. Three years since I’d felt this raw, this desperate, this utterly consumed by the need for connection. Three years since our passionate days had dwindled to sporadic, unsatisfying encounters, leaving a gaping hole in my soul and, I suspected, in hers as well. My wife, Sarah, was beautiful, undeniably so, with a cascade of auburn curls and eyes the color of melted chocolate. But the woman I remembered, the one who ignited my every thought, seemed to have faded, replaced by a polite, almost detached version of herself.

The birth control pill had done its work, stripping away the primal urgency that had once defined our relationship. Now, it was a routine, a chore, lacking the spark that had once made me ache for her touch. We rode bareback, no protection, a brutal honesty that felt both exhilarating and devastating. The experience itself was physically intense, but the lack of stamina was a constant, humiliating reminder of my failing body. The memory of those long, languid sessions of our youth, when I could lose myself in her pleasure for what felt like an eternity, was now a painful phantom limb.

Tonight, however, was different. Tonight, I was determined to reclaim the lost pleasure, to break through the wall of numbness that had developed between us. The rain continued its assault, the thunder a percussive accompaniment to my mounting anticipation. Sarah was already in bed, a soft glow emanating from the bedside lamp. As I approached, I could feel the heat radiating from her skin, a tantalizing prelude to the storm we were about to unleash.

“You’re restless tonight,” she murmured, her voice low and husky. She shifted slightly beneath the covers, exposing a sliver of her back. The sight of her pale skin, so vulnerable and inviting, sent a jolt of electricity through me.

“Just thinking about how much I miss you,” I replied, my voice rough with suppressed desire. I reached out, gently tracing the curve of her spine before pulling her closer. The scent of her skin, a blend of vanilla and something uniquely her, filled my senses.

She sighed, her fingers interlacing with mine. “It hasn’t been easy, has it?” she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. “The pills, the lack of…everything.”

“It’s been a slow erosion,” I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. “A gradual dimming of the flames.”

We lay intertwined for a moment, lost in our shared regret. Then, I gently eased myself onto her back, my weight pressing into her warmth. The familiar pressure of her body against mine sent a wave of pleasure washing over me.

“Let’s try something different,” I suggested, my voice barely audible. “Let’s forget the rules, the inhibitions, the expectations.”

Sarah’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of excitement replacing her usual composure. “What did you have in mind?”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the task ahead. “I want to explore your body, to find those hidden pockets of pleasure that have been lying dormant for so long.” I began to move slowly, deliberately, my hands tracing the contours of her hips, her thighs, her stomach. The touch was gentle at first, a hesitant exploration, but as I gained confidence, my movements became more urgent, more demanding.

Sarah moaned softly, her body arching slightly beneath my touch. I continued my exploration, focusing on her most sensitive areas, teasing her into a state of near ecstasy. The rain continued its relentless rhythm, creating a perfect backdrop to our intimate encounter.

As I reached her clitoris, I intensified my ministrations, using my fingers to stroke, caress, and stimulate her most sensitive nerve endings. Her breath grew ragged, her muscles tensed, and she let out a series of desperate gasps. I could feel her heat radiating through my hand, a tangible expression of her intense pleasure.

Then, I shifted my focus to her other pleasures. With one hand, I gripped her breasts, pulling them gently to one side, while with the other, I explored the folds of her labia. The combination of stimulation was overwhelming, pushing her closer and closer to the brink of climax.

As she struggled against my touch, I increased the intensity, using my weight to maintain her position and ensure that she received the full force of my pleasure. Sweat began to bead on her forehead, her body trembling with anticipation.

Finally, she let out a piercing scream, a primal release that echoed through the cabin. I held her tight, savoring the moment, as she succumbed to her lust. Her body convulsed with each wave of pleasure, her moans turning into desperate pleas.

For a glorious few minutes, we lost ourselves in the intoxicating depths of our shared desire. The rain continued its relentless assault, but it no longer mattered. We were lost in a world of pleasure, a world where time ceased to exist.

As she finally reached her peak, her body relaxed, her breathing returning to normal. I continued to caress her, gently rocking her back and forth, until she drifted off to sleep, her face flushed and radiant.

I remained there for a while, holding her close, feeling the lingering heat of her body against mine. The rain had subsided slightly, and a sliver of moonlight peeked through the clouds, illuminating our intertwined forms.

In that moment, I realized that I had not only broken through the wall of numbness that had separated us, but had also rediscovered the joy and passion that had once defined our relationship. The pleasure we had shared was a testament to the enduring power of desire, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is always hope for connection, for intimacy, for love. As I gently pulled away, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey back to each other. And as I looked out into the rain-washed world, I couldn't help but smile, knowing that our love story was far from over.

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