Crab Claws, Sweet Lips, Slow Feast

The salt air hung thick and heavy, clinging to my skin as I waited for my wife, Sarah, at the outdoor patio of The Salty Siren. Rain threatened, a dark smudge on the horizon, but the promise of fresh crab legs was enough to drown out any minor discomfort. We’d been married for just over a year, a whirlwind romance fueled by late nights, stolen kisses, and a shared love for all things decadent. Tonight, it was seafood, specifically the jumbo, snow-white crab legs that were the pride of this establishment.

Sarah arrived shortly after, a cascade of auburn curls tumbling down her back, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She’d ordered something light, a delicate halibut, but her gaze kept drifting back to me, a silent invitation that sent a shiver tracing its way down my spine. As I began to expertly extract the succulent meat from the claws and legs, she leaned closer, a slow, deliberate movement that made my breath catch in my throat. The rhythmic snap of the shells, the salty scent of the sea, and the heat radiating from her proximity were a potent combination, igniting a primal fire within me.

I savored each morsel, meticulously separating the sweet, juicy meat from the tough, cartilaginous shell. It was a task that demanded focus, a meditative process that allowed me to fully immerse myself in the moment. My eyes met Sarah’s, and she offered a small, knowing smile, the kind that promised untold pleasures. It wasn’t just the crab legs that were captivating her attention; it was the way I approached them, the complete absorption in the task, the intense concentration that painted my face. The thought struck me then, a sudden, electrifying realization: she was comparing me to our lovemaking. The methodical precision with which I tackled the crab, extracting every last bit of flavor, mirrored the care and attention I always gave her body.

A wave of heat washed over me, tightening my muscles, flooding my senses. My hand, holding a particularly large claw, trembled slightly as I focused on the task at hand, but my mind was elsewhere, consumed by the image of her body, her curves, her softness. It was an involuntary reaction, a visceral response to the connection between our two experiences. As I continued to devour the crab legs, savoring each bite, I realized I needed to reciprocate her gaze, to meet her on her own terms.

I paused, deliberately placing the remaining claws on my plate, and looked at her, my eyes locking onto hers. "Everything alright, darling?" I asked, my voice low and husky, laced with a hint of arousal.

“Just watching you,” she purred, her voice barely a whisper, "it's… stimulating." She leaned even closer, her breath warm against my ear, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.

I didn’t need further encouragement. The desire had already taken root, twisting itself around my senses like a tenacious vine. I reached out, gently taking her hand, and pulling her closer until our bodies were almost touching. The rain began to fall in earnest, fat, heavy drops splattering against the patio, but we barely noticed. We were lost in the intoxicating pull of each other, consumed by the primal urge to connect.

As I resumed my feast, I made a conscious effort to mirror the meticulous care I had shown the crab legs with my own body. I began to explore her curves, my fingers tracing the delicate line of her collarbone, the smooth expanse of her stomach, the gentle swell of her breasts. I paid particular attention to her pussy, her most sensitive area, and began my assault with a slow, deliberate licking. The initial warmth of her skin was quickly replaced by a desperate need to stimulate her nerves.

Her body tensed beneath my touch, her breathing becoming more rapid as she arched her back slightly. The rain continued to fall, but it seemed distant, irrelevant in the face of the intense pleasure we were experiencing. I moved downward, my tongue gliding over her labia, searching for the perfect entry point. Finally, I found it, a small, sensitive groove that begged for attention.

With a gentle thrust, I entered her pussy, my tongue exploring the depths of her pleasure cavity. Her moans grew louder, more insistent, as my movements became more forceful, more demanding. I continued to lick, to stimulate, to explore every inch of her body, ensuring that every nerve ending was thoroughly aroused. Her hips began to shake, her breathing became ragged, and her body writhed in response to my touch.

As she reached the edge of orgasm, her convulsions intensified, her screams piercing through the sound of the rain. I clung to her, deepening my penetration, pouring all my energy into her pleasure. Her muscles spasmed violently, her body arching and contorting in a desperate attempt to release the pent-up tension. Finally, with a final, earth-shattering climax, she exploded in a wave of ecstasy, her screams morphing into gasps of pleasure.

I pulled back, breathless and exhilarated, watching her pant heavily, her body slick with sweat. Her pussy was swollen and glistening, a testament to the intense pleasure she had just experienced. The rain continued to fall, washing away the remnants of our passion, but the memory of our encounter would linger long after the storm had passed.

As I finished my last crab leg, savoring the final bit of succulent meat, I looked back at Sarah, who was still catching her breath, her eyes glazed with pleasure. I knew then that she had been right. The way I approached the crab legs, with the same dedication and attention to detail, was exactly how I made love to her. And as I looked at her, my heart filled with a deep and abiding love, I realized that this seafood dinner had not only satisfied my hunger, but had also served as a potent reminder of the exquisite pleasure that awaited us in the bedroom.

Later, as we lay tangled in the sheets, the rain still drumming against the windows, Sarah whispered in my ear, "You were incredible." Her words were a sweet, intoxicating nectar, confirming my suspicions that she had indeed been comparing my approach to the crab legs to our lovemaking.

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer, and kissed her deeply, savoring the taste of her skin, the scent of her hair. It was a moment of pure bliss, a culmination of all the desires and passions that had brought us together. And as I held her tight, lost in the warmth of her body, I knew that our love was as delicious and satisfying as the freshest crab legs in the sea.

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