Crimson Submission: A Slow Descent

The rain hammered against the windows of our secluded cabin, mirroring the frantic rhythm of my heart. My wife, Eleanor, lay beside me, her body still flushed with the heat of our recent encounter. The scent of her arousal, a heady mix of sweat and musk, hung in the air, clinging to the rough-hewn timbers of the cabin. I shifted slightly, pulling her closer, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin against mine. The memory of our shared pleasure, of the slow, deliberate exploration of each other’s bodies, still pulsed through me, a tangible force.

For years, Eleanor had held a deep-seated aversion to anal sex, a primal fear rooted in some long-forgotten trauma. But lately, she’d begun to relax her stance, a subtle shift in her attitude that had opened a door to a world of intense pleasure for both of us. The first time, she’d been hesitant, her eyes wide with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. But as I gently introduced my hand to her intimate area, her body had responded with a surprising eagerness, a willingness to surrender to the sensations she’d previously avoided.

Tonight, she was back to her old self, her pleasure evident in every twitch and moan. I took her hand, tracing the delicate curve of her wrist before bringing it to my lips, pressing a lingering kiss to her skin. Her body tensed beneath my touch, anticipating the next stage of our intimate dance.

“You feel good, don’t you?” I murmured, my voice low and husky.

“More than you know,” she replied, her breath catching in her throat. “Take me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the storm raging outside. “Take me completely.”

Her words ignited a fire within me, a primal urge to fulfill her desires, to push the boundaries of our intimacy and explore the depths of her pleasure. I leaned down, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her arousal before gently placing my lips against her sensitive skin. The contact sent shivers through her body, and her eyes fluttered closed as she succumbed to the sensation.

I began to stroke her inner thigh, slowly and deliberately, building anticipation for what was to come. Her muscles tensed, and she let out a small whimper, a plea for more. I increased the pressure, my fingers tracing the contours of her body with increasing intensity. She arched her back, her hips rising and falling in time with my movements.

“Don’t stop,” she urged, her voice strained with pleasure. “Don’t stop, please.”

With renewed vigor, I continued my exploration, focusing on the sensitive nerve endings located near her anus. The air grew thick with heat and anticipation as I prepared to take her to the brink of ecstasy.

“Ready?” I whispered, my breath hot against her ear.

“Yes,” she moaned, her voice filled with desperate longing.

Slowly, I began to insert my finger into her anal opening, using a generous amount of lubricant to ease the process. Her body convulsed in response, a series of involuntary spasms rippling through her muscles. As my finger descended further, she let out a piercing scream, a primal cry of pleasure and pain.

“Go deeper,” she gasped, her voice strained. “Push me further.”

I obliged, continuing my slow, methodical penetration, feeling her body respond with increasing intensity. Her moans became louder, more urgent, as she struggled to maintain control. The pleasure was palpable, a tangible force that threatened to consume us both.

As I reached the apex of her orgasm, her body completely lost all control, her muscles seizing up in a final, desperate spasm. She let out a final, desperate cry, then collapsed back against me, her body limp and exhausted.

I held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against mine, savoring the memory of our shared pleasure. The rain continued to beat against the windows, but inside the cabin, we were lost in a world of intimacy and passion.

Later, as we lay tangled in the sheets, Eleanor turned to me, her eyes filled with a mixture of desire and regret. “You really know how to please me,” she whispered, her voice husky with exhaustion. “You really do.”

“It’s my pleasure,” I replied, nuzzling my face into her hair. “And now, I want to take you again.”

She responded with a moan, her body arching towards me in anticipation. The storm raged on outside, but inside the cabin, the heat of our passion burned brighter than ever before. We continued our intimate dance, lost in the depths of our shared desire, until we fell asleep, exhausted but content, in each other's arms. The scent of arousal lingered in the air, a sweet reminder of the pleasure we had just experienced, and the promise of more to come.

Did you like this story? Crimson Submission: A Slow Descent look, but like these, here Story taboo sex.