Forbidden Homecoming

The scent of jet fuel and anticipation hung heavy in the air as I waited for him, the knot in my stomach twisting tighter with each passing minute. His business trip had been grueling, filled with endless meetings and strained smiles, and I’d felt the shift in our connection as palpable as the change in time zones. Emails had become terse, filled with a guarded weariness that mirrored my own, a silent acknowledgment of the tension simmering beneath the surface. I longed for the comforting weight of his presence, the familiar warmth of his touch, and the simple pleasure of simply being near him. It felt like an eternity since our last embrace, and now, finally, he was due to arrive.

The airport was a chaotic blend of hurried travelers and anxious families, but my focus remained solely on the gate number displayed on the departure board. Then, there he was, emerging from the sliding doors, a silhouette against the afternoon sun. The moment our eyes met, the tension dissolved, replaced by an immediate surge of heat. He moved with a practiced grace, navigating the crowd with an easy confidence that always captivated me. As we approached each other, a shared smile broke through the fatigue, a silent promise of the pleasures to come. The kids, bless their enthusiastic hearts, ran forward, clamoring for hugs. He knelt down, showering them with affection, and I watched, a bittersweet ache in my chest as I remembered the joy he brought to their lives.

Once the hugs were over, he reached for me, his touch sending shivers down my spine. As we pulled away, he left his bag on the floor, a momentary lapse in composure that I couldn’t resist seizing upon. He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies met in a silent, desperate embrace. My hands instinctively found their place on either side of his face, molding his features as I leaned in for a kiss. It was soft, hesitant at first, a gentle exploration of pent-up desire, but quickly intensified, becoming a passionate plea for connection. He responded with equal fervor, sliding his hands around my waist, pulling me against him with increasing urgency. The world narrowed to the feel of his hands on my skin, the scent of his cologne, and the intoxicating rhythm of our breath.

As we pulled away, a subtle shift in his demeanor was evident. The guarded expression faded, replaced by a raw vulnerability that both intrigued and thrilled me. He pressed his lips to my forehead, then to my cheek, each touch a deliberate act of claiming me, of marking me as his. The children, now seated in the back row, watched with wide, innocent eyes, oblivious to the growing heat between us. We continued to share kisses, each one more intense than the last, until my senses were overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure of his touch. He released me, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, before reaching out to gently retrieve his bag. The awkwardness was brief, quickly forgotten as he slid his hands around my waist once more, pulling me close in a possessive embrace.

The drive home was a blur of stolen glances and unspoken words. The back seats held the children, their laughter and chatter a comforting backdrop to the building tension between us. My hand instinctively found its place beneath his, resting lightly against his thigh, feeling the subtle tremor of arousal that ran through him. He responded by subtly moving his thumb up and down my inner thigh, a silent invitation that I eagerly accepted. The sensation was electric, a primal urge that threatened to consume us both. I forced a smile, feigning indifference as I gazed out the window, but my body remained tense, anticipating the inevitable release.

As the hours passed, he continued his playful teasing, his hand repeatedly seeking out my touch, never quite crossing the line, yet always pushing me closer to the edge. The children, engrossed in their toys, remained blissfully unaware of the simmering desire that permeated the vehicle. The anticipation grew with each passing moment, a delicious torture that only heightened our senses. Finally, the aroma of dinner wafted through the air, a beacon of warmth and comfort that both distracted and intensified our longing.

“OK, kids – grab your stuff – it’s time to go,” I announced, releasing the tension I had been holding. He looked at me questioningly, a flicker of confusion in his eyes, before responding with a polite, “Where are we going?” I explained about the church supper and games night, revealing that I had invited our kids to join a friend’s family. As the truth dawned on his face, a slow smile spread across his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the precious time we would have alone together.

He asked me to drive the children to the church while I “got ready,” a request that sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. With a playful wink, I pulled him back, giving him a lingering kiss that left him breathless. “Drop the kids off and come right back. Don’t go in the church. Don’t visit with anyone. I need you right back here.” His nod was immediate and absolute, a testament to his devotion and the intensity of his desire.

Half an hour later, he returned, his face flushed with anticipation and a hint of nervousness. The scent of the simmering stew hung heavy in the air, a tantalizing reminder of the home-cooked meal that awaited us. But even the promise of a delicious dinner couldn’t distract him from the more urgent needs that burned within him. I called out from the bedroom, my voice laced with invitation, “Up here.”

The bedroom was transformed, a sanctuary of sensual delights designed to heighten our pleasure. Soft pillows covered the bed, creating a comfortable nest, and the bedside lamps cast a warm, inviting glow. A bottle of bubbly sat on my nightstand, surrounded by a clear glass bowl filled with plump, juicy grapes, and the air was filled with the soft strains of a jazz melody. On his table, a small bowl held a selection of fresh fruit. I had donned a favorite black nightgown, clinging and smooth, with a delicate lace trim at the neckline, paired with a sheer aqua shirt that I had long resisted wearing for him. The combination was both alluring and provocative, designed to ignite his senses.

“Your robe is hanging in the bathroom,” I instructed, my voice a low murmur. He wasted no time in changing, eager to shed the restraints of public life and embrace the intimacy that awaited us. Finally, we were together, nestled comfortably on the bed, sipping sparkling apple juice and savoring the anticipation. My hand instinctively reached across him, resting lightly against his thigh, feeling the subtle tremor of arousal that ran through him. He responded by gently caressing my breast, a silent promise of the pleasure to come.

As he began to feed me grapes, alternating with soft kisses on my face, I felt a delicious shiver run down my spine. He seemed stunned by the sheer abundance of his good fortune, but quickly regained his composure, determined to fulfill his desires. He put his glass down, taking mine from me, and removed the bowl of grapes, leaving us alone in the embrace of the bed. We snuggled closer, still sitting up against the pillows, as we continued to stroke each other’s arms and kiss softly. The air crackled with unspoken desires, a palpable tension that hung heavy between us.

Suddenly, he said, “Too bright” and reached across me to turn off my lamp. I seized the opportunity to untie his robe and slide my hands inside, my fingers tracing the contours of his body as I waited for his reaction. He leaned over, giving me a lingering kiss before turning off his lamp and pulling back. As the candles flickered to life, casting dancing shadows on the walls, he reached up and gently touched the clip in the back of my hair, pulling it free and letting my hair cascade down my shoulders. He pushed his fingers into my hair, looking deep into my eyes, a silent declaration of his affection. "I missed you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

As the intensity of his kisses increased, his hands began to explore my body, lingering over my hips and legs. Every time his hands slid up again, he pulled my nightgown up a little, exposing my bare legs and intensifying my arousal. I could feel the tingling sensation spreading through my breasts, a delightful anticipation of the pleasure to come. I positioned myself over him, supporting myself on his shoulders, and leaned forward, succumbing to the pull of his touch.

He pushed me back and down into the pillows, unable to resist the overwhelming urge to continue. He pressed into me, his body tensing with anticipation, as he moved closer, his movements becoming more insistent. We faced each other, locked in a passionate embrace, as he slowly moved his hands over my body, teasing me with every brush of his fingertips.

Finally, he said, “Come here,” and pulled me closer still, his lips finding their mark on my mouth. We kissed deeply, passionately, lost in the moment, our bodies moving as one. As the pleasure reached its peak, I arched my back, pushing against his chest, desperate for more. He responded by wrapping his arms around me, holding me close, and continuing to kiss me with unrestrained abandon. The world narrowed to the feel of his lips on mine, the scent of his skin, and the overwhelming sensation of pleasure.

Just as I realized, with a touch of surprise, that he was still erect, he suddenly flipped me onto my back, a desperate look in his eyes. I giggled, clinging to him, as he slowly moved his hands up my thighs, under my nightgown, before continuing his exploration. The anticipation grew with each passing moment, a delicious torture that only heightened our senses.

As he repeated this movement over and over, moving closer and closer to the insides of my legs, I could feel my nipples growing hard beneath the sheer fabric, my body trembling with anticipation. I couldn’t wait for him to increase his caresses.

Finally, he pushed me back and down into the pillows, unable to resist the overwhelming urge to continue. He pressed into me, his body tensing with anticipation, as he moved closer, his movements becoming more insistent. He rolled back to his side to put a little distance between us and slow it down a bit. We were facing each other, locked in a passionate embrace, as he slowly moved his hands over my body, teasing me with every brush of his fingertips.

He reached up and touched the clip in the back of my hair, pulling it free and letting my hair cascade down my shoulders. He pushed his fingers into my hair, looking deep into my eyes, a silent declaration of his affection. "I missed you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

As the intensity of his kisses increased, his hands did some exploring over my body, particularly my hips and legs. Every time his hands slid up again, he pulled my nightgown up a little until he could finally feel my bare legs. As he repeated this movement over and over, moving closer and closer to the insides of my legs, I could feel my breasts tingling with anticipation. I couldn't wait for him to increase his caresses.

He pushed me back and down into the pillows and I was completely helpless to resist. He was pressing into me and I could feel how ready he was. He rolled back to his side to put a little distance between us and slow it down a bit. We were facing each other and he let his fingers trail over my shoulders, then my neck, collar bone, very slowly moving his fingers downward. Finally he turned his hand and softly cupped it under my breast. I groaned softly and then, as his thumb rubbed over my nipple, the groan deepened. I put my head back, exposing my neck for more of his kisses. His movements grew faster and my nipples grew hard beneath the sheer fabric.

He motioned for me to sit up and he removed the shirt. Then he turned me so my back was to him, and he slid his arm underneath me. Both hands came around me and covered my breasts, squeezing gently. He loved the feel of the smooth black fabric, especially with my nipples protruding with such force. I began to move my pelvis in and out and to long for his hands to start moving downward.

Instead, he turned me over and motioned for me to straddle him. He enjoyed pushing his hands up my thighs, under my nightgown. I sat above him and he slowly moved his hands up over my abdomen. Just before he reached my breasts, he moved his hands to my arms and up over my shoulders. He slowly, pulled the thin straps downward, down, down, until he had uncovered my breasts. Then he continued his attention to my nipples. I could feel the excitement building and I positioned myself over him so that his penis rested under my clitoris. I moved my body forward and backward, sliding along the length of his penis. He continued his all important hand movements, except when I leaned forward and placed my breast in his mouth. As the tension mounted in me, I put my hands on his chest to support myself and moved more quickly over him, faster and faster until that amazing wave washed over me. I threw my head back and groaned as that feeling peaked. Finally I lay on top of him and kissed him hard and very gratefully.

Just as I realized, with some surprise, that he was still erect, he suddenly flipped me on my back with a rather desperate look in his eyes. I giggled and held his face in my hands before sliding them down between us to position him inside me. He closed his eyes and smiled softly as he moved back and forth, first slowly but then with increasing intensity, until his mouth opened and he let out a gasp. He tensed and his body rocked against me, decreasing in intensity until he lay on top of me completely spent.

I kissed his neck and shoulders and he kissed mine, until we eventually pulled apart and lay facing each other. Eventually we started talking softly, then with more animation until the smell of the supper came wafting up the stairs and we decided we were famished. I re-dressed myself and he fastened his robe and we went and sat in the kitchen, eating and talking about his trip and how hard it had been to be apart. Then we dressed and did what we could to look presentable and left to pick up our kids.

Separation is always difficult, but reunions are so beautifully sweet.

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