COVID Morning's Urgent Need

The insistent pounding on my chest jolted me awake. Melodie, my wife, was demanding sex, and not just any sex – immediate, desperate sex. It was utterly bizarre. We’d had a satisfying encounter just two days prior, our usual rhythm of every three days being perfectly established. This sudden, insistent need felt jarring, an anomaly in our carefully curated routine. She pressed her lips against my cheek, a familiar, insistent kiss, but her touch held a frantic urgency that sent shivers down my spine. “I want you,” she whispered, her breath hot against my skin, “I need you. Tell me it's doing something good.” Her fingers dug into the fabric of my pajama top, finding purchase on the rapidly hardening flesh of my erect penis. A primal wave of heat surged through me, fueled by her need and my own arousal. I instinctively reached out, my hand seeking comfort in the soft curves of her breasts beneath the pajama top. I pawed at them, a silent invitation, and she, without hesitation, lifted the top, revealing the full glory of her ample cleavage. The sight of her beautiful, full breasts ignited a fire within me, a desperate craving that demanded release. I began to tease her, tracing the contours of her nipples with my tongue, offering her a small measure of pleasure before escalating the anticipation. “Let me feel,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire, as I slid my hand beneath her pajama bottoms, finding her already wet and yielding. The anticipation built, a delicious torture as she waited for my touch.

A moment later, she pulled my pajama bottoms down, her movements quick and purposeful, exposing my entire body to her eager gaze. Then, with a decisive movement, she removed my PJ top entirely, leaving me in my underwear, vulnerable and exposed. As she rose from the bed, she stripped off her own clothes, revealing her own naked form. The sight of her, her body sculpted by desire and anticipation, was both exhilarating and overwhelming. She began to pose, striking a series of provocative stances, each one designed to heighten my arousal. Without hesitation, I grabbed my phone and snapped a few photos, capturing the raw beauty of her nude form in our private photo app. The act of photographing her only intensified my desire, feeding the flames of my lust. She slipped into an open cup and open crotch teddy, a garment designed to tease and tantalize, and resumed her poses, captivating me with her every movement. As she shifted and turned, her body became even more alluring, a masterpiece of curves and shadows. I reached out and gently caressed her pussy, focusing my attention on the sensitive area around her clitoris, lost in the exquisite pleasure of her anticipation. Her nips were particularly delightful, each one a miniature explosion of sensation. I knelt beside her, bringing my body close to hers as I performed the tip-on-nip technique, letting her know just how much I enjoyed her presence. Her clitoris buzzed with anticipation, a frantic plea for release.

Just as the moment reached its peak, she pleaded, “Go inside me!” The urgency in her voice was unmistakable. Without a second thought, I mounted her in the missionary position, feeling the familiar heat of her body against mine. But the weight of COVID hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of our precarious situation. My breath came in ragged gasps, and the strain of the position quickly became too much. Instinctively, I shifted to our go-to X position – with her on her back and me facing her at right angles – and we resumed our frantic thrusts. The combination of desire and illness created an almost unbearable tension, a desperate need for release that threatened to consume us. “I love f***ing your pussy!” I cried out, the words escaping my lips in a torrent of pent-up frustration. It was a phrase I rarely uttered, but the intensity of the moment demanded its release. I was completely overwhelmed by her beauty and the sheer pleasure she offered.

As the COVID lungs began to take their toll, I slid out and up beside her, gasping for air. The world seemed to spin, and my body trembled with exhaustion. “I can’t breathe,” I managed to wheeze, my voice barely audible. Melodie, sensing my distress, retrieved a brand new, larger vibrating device from our stash, a recent acquisition designed to intensify pleasure. She slipped it into her pussy, continuing to stimulate her clitoris with her own bullet vibrator. The combination of the two devices created a symphony of sensation, a relentless assault on my senses. I petted her pussy, focusing on her clitoris, lost in the exquisite pleasure of her response. Her body continued to writhe and pulsate, a testament to her insatiable desire.

“It feels good,” she whispered, her voice strained with effort. Yet, despite her physical distress, she didn't want to give up. She insisted on continuing, determined to fulfill my needs despite the limitations imposed by COVID. As we continued, her coughing became more frequent, a sign that her symptoms were worsening. We both coughed intermittently, a shared experience in our shared struggle against the virus. Finally, Melodie suggested that I lay on my side of the bed, allowing her to fondle my balls and suck on my nips while I attempted to pump myself to orgasm. It was a difficult task, given my weakened state, but I persevered, summoning every ounce of energy to achieve the explosive release I craved. I sprayed cum everywhere, a testament to my ultimate satisfaction. Melodie, sensing my exhaustion, did not continue to try for her big O, recognizing that my body was simply not up to it. She was a day or two ahead of me with her COVID symptoms, and she knew that pushing herself too hard would only prolong the inevitable.

“You can have dreams like that every night, as far as I’m concerned!” I said, laughing despite my discomfort. “But maybe wait until we’re over COVID. That about killed me!” We both laughed, followed by a hacking cough. The situation was both absurd and deeply satisfying, a testament to the power of desire in the face of adversity. As I lay beside her, in her incredibly sexy lingerie, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for this wonderful God-given wife. Even with the constraints of COVID, our connection remained strong, our intimacy a beacon of hope in a world turned upside down. She loves the open cup/open crotch teddies, and I confess, I find them equally captivating. This unexpected demand, this morning wake-up call, felt like a twisted blessing, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, pleasure could still be found. It was a surprise, yes, but one that I would cherish forever. It had happened before, this desperate need for physical intimacy, a subconscious response to a bad dream. Melodie always seeks comfort in my arms when she's feeling vulnerable, and she never hesitates to express her desires, even if it means pushing her body to its limits. She’ll wake me up – often already nude – and she doesn't always want to use the vibrator, but after a bad dream she simply needs to feel the love of my body on her and in her, and that’s good enough. The thought of her, her beautiful body, filled me with a warmth that transcended the physical. And despite the challenges posed by COVID, I knew that our love would endure, a testament to the enduring power of connection in the face of adversity.

Did you like this story? COVID Morning's Urgent Need look, but like these, here Sex stories.