Desire's Long Wait (L)

The silence in the apartment was thick, suffocating, a physical presence that pressed against my skin. It had been a grueling few days, a desert of intimacy stretching endlessly before me. My husband, Mark, was a man of routine, a creature of habit, and we’d fallen into a comfortable rhythm of nightly passion. But lately, that rhythm had broken, leaving me yearning, desperate for the familiar warmth of his touch, the intoxicating scent of his arousal. The thought of his massive, vascular cock, the way it pulsed with heat against my skin, consumed my every waking moment. Work felt like an eternity, each tick of the clock a painful reminder of the time we weren't together. I’d spend hours lost in daydreams, picturing him bending me over, his powerful hands pinning me against the bed, while he plunged his cock deep into my pussy. The image itself was enough to send shivers down my spine, to heighten my anticipation.

Finally, the blessed hour arrived. As we lay in bed, the muted glow of the television casting a soft light across the room, I felt an almost unbearable tension building within me. He knew exactly how desperate I was, the longing that gnawed at my soul. He hadn’t broken the silence, hadn’t offered any reassurance, but his presence beside me, the subtle shift in his body weight, was a silent acknowledgment of my needs. Then, without warning, he reached out, his hand moving with deliberate slowness, tracing the curve of my lower abdomen before finally pausing, his fingertips brushing lightly against my sweaty skin. A jolt of electricity surged through me, igniting the flames of desire that had been smoldering within.

“You’re wet,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, laced with an understanding that both thrilled and terrified me. “You’ve been thinking about me all day, haven’t you?” The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. He pulled my sweatpants down a little, allowing a glimpse of my dampness, and then, without hesitation, he began to rub my clitoris through the fabric, his touch gentle yet insistent. The sensation was exquisite, a slow burn that intensified with each passing moment. It felt as if he was peeling back layers of longing, exposing the raw, vulnerable core of my desire.

As he continued his ministrations, circling my clitoris, he noticed the glistening sheen of my juices seeping through the fabric. "You're practically begging for it," he said, his voice laced with a wicked pleasure. He pulled my shirt off my head, his fingers lingering on my nipples, teasing them with a slow, deliberate caress. The nipples immediately grew hard, responding to his touch with a desperate eagerness. The tingling sensation spread throughout my pussy, a delicious, anticipatory ache. The anticipation was becoming unbearable, a physical manifestation of my suppressed need.

With a casual disregard for my protests, he pulled down my pants, his eyes locking onto mine, a silent invitation. He leaned in, his lips brushing against my love spot, and the electric jolt returned, even stronger this time. His skill was undeniable; he knew exactly how to stimulate me, how to build the pressure, how to push me to the brink. It was a slow, sensual torture, and I reveled in it. As he thrust, I watched his cock enter and exit my pussy, mesmerized by the power and precision of his movements. The rhythmic pounding was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Unable to contain myself any longer, I grabbed his head and shoved it back down between my legs, desperate for release. His surprise was evident in his widened eyes, a mixture of shock and pleasure. He opened his mouth wide, and I immediately began to writhe, my legs locking around his neck as I succumbed to the overwhelming surge of pleasure. I cummed with a primal intensity, letting loose a torrent of pent-up desire, moaning and gasping for air. It was a release of epic proportions, a testament to the depth of my yearning.

He licked up my juices with full strokes, ascending and descending, savoring every drop. Then, he used his index finger to spread my slit, sliding it up and down with slow, deliberate movements. The sensation was exquisite, a blend of heat and pleasure that left me breathless. He continued to stimulate me until I could take no more, the pleasure becoming unbearable. Finally, I grabbed his head again, pulling him closer, determined to fulfill my needs.

As we rolled and flipped, I found myself on top, facing him, my body trembling with anticipation. He positioned himself beneath me, his powerful muscles flexing as he anticipated the pleasure to come. I took my place, squatting over him, and he watched, captivated, as my body arched in response to his presence. Then, without hesitation, he grabbed one of my perky breasts and squeezed, causing me to bounce up and down on his cock with unrestrained delight. His fingers danced over my nipples, tracing their contours with an almost obsessive intensity. The pleasure intensified, pushing me further towards the brink.

We continued to ride each other, moaning and groaning with pleasure, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of our passion. His fingers seemed to forget everything but my nipples, focusing solely on their stimulation. I rode him hard and fast, determined to extract every last drop of pleasure from him. Each stroke was deep, long, and powerful, a testament to his mastery. I squeezed my vagina tight, determined to milk him dry, to drain every ounce of pleasure from his body.

As we reached the peak of our frenzy, he asked where I wanted it next. Without hesitation, I gently placed my hand around his throat, applying minimal pressure, and told him to fill me. At that very moment, his cock flinched inside me, a clear sign of his pleasure. The warm, viscous fluid shot into me, intensifying the pleasure even further. His moans and cries of ecstasy were uncontrollable, a symphony of desire that filled the room. I reveled in his pleasure, taking a perverse delight in his agony.

Finally, we pulled apart, exhausted but exhilarated. I lay there on him, embraced in his arms, his cock still firmly lodged within me. It was the most exquisite sensation I had ever experienced, a perfect blend of pleasure and vulnerability. As we caught our breath, I realized that this was exactly what I needed, exactly what I had been craving for so long. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, a reminder of the power of our connection.

As we held each other close, I knew that our passion would continue to burn brightly, a beacon of light in the darkness. And as I drifted off to sleep, nestled in the warmth of his embrace, I couldn't wait to write more stories, to explore the depths of our shared desires. The possibilities were endless, and the pleasure was immeasurable.

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