CreamyPatty's Waiting Game: Wet & Wild

The rain hammered against the windows of the penthouse apartment, a relentless, insistent rhythm that mirrored the frantic beat of my own heart. Jim was late. Again. Not just late, but chronically, infuriatingly late. He was a consultant, a high-powered executive in the tech world, always chasing the next big deal, the next lucrative contract. And somewhere along the way, he’d forgotten that I, CreamyPatty, was his priority. Or maybe he just didn’t care. Either way, it left me restless, simmering with a desperate need that threatened to consume me.

My fingers danced over the smooth, cool plastic of the vibrating ring that rested on my nightstand. It was one of my favorites, a little silicone disc with multiple patterns and speeds, guaranteed to send shivers down my spine. I'd picked it up from Married Dance, a surprisingly respectable site for discreet pleasure devices. They catered to couples seeking discretion and quality, a welcome change from the explicit, often degrading, content found elsewhere. My husband, Jim, had been eyeing a particular couples’ massage kit there for months, but he always managed to find a reason to postpone the purchase. Tonight, I wasn’t postponing. Tonight, I was claiming what was rightfully mine.

The tension coiled tighter in my stomach with each passing minute. I'd already gone through my usual routine – a long, hot shower with lavender-scented body wash, a generous application of my favorite vanilla-infused lotion, and a liberal dusting of cocoa powder over my exposed skin. I wanted to be as enticing as possible, a siren’s call to his wandering desires. The cocoa powder, a silly indulgence, was meant to make me feel even more vulnerable, even more eager.

The rain intensified, a torrential downpour that seemed to amplify my frustration. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through my social media feeds, searching for any news, any distraction that might alleviate the torment. But there was nothing. Just endless streams of perfectly curated lives, highlighting the happiness and fulfillment that I desperately craved. It only served to deepen my loneliness, to sharpen the edges of my discontent.

Suddenly, the building’s intercom crackled to life, announcing Jim’s arrival. Relief washed over me, a tidal wave of pleasure that momentarily eclipsed the lingering frustration. I quickly changed into a pair of silky, crimson lingerie, the fabric clinging to my curves, emphasizing my assets. As I made my way to the bedroom, I couldn't resist a quick glance in the full-length mirror. The reflection staring back at me was a vision of delicious anticipation, a captive audience for the pleasure I was about to deliver.

Jim burst through the door, dripping wet from the rain, his suit rumpled and slightly damp. He looked exhausted, but his eyes held a familiar glint of mischief. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, his voice hoarse. “There was a delay on the flight.” He didn't apologize for the repeated tardiness, didn't seem to understand the depth of my frustration. It was a typical Jim move, prioritizing work over everything else.

"It's fine," I replied, my voice laced with a forced sweetness. "Just glad you're here."

He walked over to me, his gaze lingering over my body, taking in the crimson lingerie and the lingering scent of cocoa. A slow smile spread across his face. “You look beautiful,” he murmured, reaching out to gently stroke my arm. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, igniting the fire within.

I leaned into his touch, surrendering to the primal urge that pulsed through my veins. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, his body heat radiating against mine. The rain continued its relentless assault on the windows, but inside, in the confines of our bedroom, it felt as though the world had ceased to exist.

He moved quickly, expertly, his hands exploring every inch of my body. He started with my breasts, gently teasing them, raising and lowering them with a possessive tenderness that both thrilled and frustrated me. Then he moved to my nipples, applying firm pressure, causing them to swell and ache. I moaned, a low, guttural sound of pure pleasure, lost in the moment.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked on mine. "You're making me crazy," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Tell me what you want."

"Just... touch me," I managed to choke out, my voice ragged. "Please, just touch me."

He obliged, his hands gliding down my stomach, tracing the curve of my hips, stopping at my clitoris. He began to rub it gently, increasing the pressure slowly, methodically, building anticipation. My breath hitched in my throat, my muscles tense and trembling.

The rain continued to fall, but now it sounded like a distant drumbeat, a soundtrack to the escalating pleasure that was consuming me. I cried out, a desperate, desperate plea for release. Jim responded with an even more intense assault, using his fingers to stimulate my clitoris with a combination of slow, rhythmic motions and sudden, sharp jabs.

The pain quickly morphed into exquisite pleasure, a wave of sensation that washed over me, leaving me breathless and unable to speak. I arched my back, my hips thrust forward, begging for more. Jim continued his assault, his touch unrelenting, his desire insatiable.

He then pulled out one of my toys – a small, pulsating cube that I kept hidden in my drawer. He held it against my clitoris, letting its vibrations permeate my entire body. The sensation was overwhelming, a torrent of pleasure that threatened to break me. I squeezed my eyes shut, lost in the intensity of the moment, feeling myself slowly unravel, surrendering completely to the pleasure.

As Jim continued his ministrations, I realized that the rain wasn't just an annoyance; it was an integral part of the experience. The rhythmic drumming against the windows seemed to amplify the sensations, creating a symphony of pleasure that was both intoxicating and addictive.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jim slowed down, his movements becoming gentler, more tender. He continued to caress my body, whispering sweet nothings in my ear, making me feel like the most beautiful, desired woman in the world.

When he finally pulled back, exhausted but satisfied, I lay there panting, my body drenched in sweat, my senses overloaded. The rain had subsided, and a sliver of moonlight peeked through the clouds, casting a soft glow over the room.

Jim looked at me, a genuine smile on his face. "You were incredible," he said, reaching for me again. "Let me make it up to you."

And as he began to kiss me, I knew that despite the frustration and the longing, there was no one else in the world I’d rather be with, no one else I’d rather lose myself in the depths of his passion. The rain had stopped, but the storm within me had only just begun. My life, my desires, my pleasure - it all revolved around the anticipation of his return, the sweet torment of waiting for him to cum home. And tonight, as I lay here, exhausted and content, I knew that I wouldn't trade it for anything.

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