Forbidden Morning Heat: Lost in His Touch

The insistent chirping of my alarm ripped me from a surprisingly vivid dream, a swirling vortex of heat and longing that left me breathless and trembling. It was Monday morning, and the thought of facing the day, devoid of Max’s presence, sent a shiver down my spine. The silence in the apartment felt oppressive, a stark contrast to the electric current that usually ran between us. I needed him, desperately. A wave of loneliness washed over me, thick and suffocating. Without hesitation, I snatched my phone from the nightstand and dialed his number.

“Good morning, baby,” I whispered, my voice raw with need. “I miss you terribly.”

“I miss you too, darling,” his voice responded, rich and deep, instantly easing the knot in my stomach. “You sound lovely, even after just one night apart.”

“Oh, I’m feeling particularly wild,” I confessed, letting a shiver of anticipation run through me. “And a little bit wet.” It was a blatant invitation, a desperate plea for attention, hoping he’d respond with the same fervor I felt.

“Well, now,” Max chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through the phone. “That’s a rather enticing thought. I’m hard, just for you.” The words sent a jolt of heat through my core, igniting a fire in my loins.

“Oh really? Really, really?” I teased, a playful challenge in my tone. “You’re always such a tease.”

“I was remembering last night,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “The way you repaid me for making you moan at the club. That dance floor was electric, wasn’t it?”

“You liked that, didn’t you?” I asked, savoring his words. The memory of the pulsating lights, the rhythmic throb of the music, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and desire still lingered in my senses. “The way you looked at me, the heat radiating from your body... unforgettable.”

As soon as we arrived back home Saturday night, the primal instinct took over. Before even stepping fully through the doorway, I lunged forward, pressing myself against Max, burying my face in his chest, and kissing him with desperate abandon. My hand, driven by an insatiable urge, instinctively reached for his crotch, tracing the hard swell of his cock. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the need to explore, to possess, overwhelming. Without a second thought, I dropped to my knees, unzipping his pants with trembling fingers. The sight of his exposed member, already hardening with anticipation, sent a wave of pleasure through me. It was magnificent, powerful, and utterly captivating.

Max’s hand shot out, gripping my hair, pulling my gaze upward. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto mine, mirroring my own lustful desires. There was no denying the raw, primal connection between us, a magnetic force that drew us closer, fueling the fire in our hearts.

My fingers danced across the base of his hard cock, feeling the heat radiating from its sensitive skin. My thumb swiped over the tip, tracing the glistening ridge of his pre-cum, savoring the anticipation of what was to come. Instinctively, my tongue swirled around the head of his cock, tasting the salty moisture, drawing out a low moan from my throat. I continued looking up at him, lost in the intoxicating beauty of his body, watching as he inhaled deeply with each touch of my lips, lost in the same fervent desire as I. The heat intensified, a building crescendo of pleasure and lust, threatening to consume us both. I knew, with absolute certainty, that I couldn't hold back any longer.

As he drew near to orgasm, I tightened my grip on his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. His hand continued its relentless assault on my clit, each stroke sending shivers of pleasure through my body. The anticipation was unbearable, a delicious torture that only intensified my desire. I loved how I could sense the shift in his muscles, the subtle changes in his breathing as he approached the brink. It was a symphony of anticipation, a prelude to the explosion of pleasure that was about to erupt.

Then, it happened. A guttural groan ripped through him as he unleashed a torrent of cum, a volcanic eruption of pleasure that exploded against my lips and chin. The taste was salty, hot, and utterly divine. Without hesitation, I swiped at my face, attempting to wipe away the sticky residue, but Max stopped me, his hand gently pushing my hand aside. The sensation of his hand on my skin, guiding my movements, sent a fresh wave of pleasure through me. It was a shared experience, a mutual enjoyment of the moment, a testament to the profound connection we shared.

“Can’t wait to do that again, baby,” he murmured into the phone, his voice thick with desire. “How are we going to make it until Friday without each other?”

“Oh, me too!” I moaned, clutching his arm, desperate for his touch. “Let’s find a way to fill the void.”

“Touch your clit,” he commanded, his voice laced with anticipation. “Is it wet yet?”

Obediently, I obliged, extending my finger and teasing my clit, drawing out a moan of pleasure. “No,” I whispered sadly. “Not quite.”

“Stick your finger in your pussy,” he instructed, his voice low and insistent. “And then make your clit nice and wet.” The command sent a rush of heat through me, a renewed surge of desire. I followed his instructions, sliding my finger deep into my vagina, feeling the slickness of my flesh as it became saturated with moisture.

“Oh, yes,” I moaned, feeling the pull of my muscles as my clit writhed in anticipation. “Are you hard?”

“Yes, baby,” he breathed, his voice a low rumble against the phone. “And getting harder.” I pictured his strong hand firmly gripping his cock, slowly stroking it all the way up and down, building the tension, intensifying the pleasure.

“Are you wet at the tip?” I asked, picturing the glistening droplets of pre-cum clinging to the head of his cock.

“Yes, baby,” he moaned, causing my clit to jump with the sheer force of his words. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

“Oh,” I gasped, my breath catching in my throat. My excitement was building quickly, threatening to overwhelm me.

“Put two fingers in your pussy,” Max said, his voice laced with command. “Like I do.” Without hesitation, I obeyed, sliding my fingers deep into my vagina, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence.

“I wish it was you, baby,” I whispered, my voice trembling with desire. “Right here, right now.”

“Move them in and out,” he instructed, his voice now a low murmur against my ear. “Slowly. Deliberately.” I followed his instructions, the rhythmic movement a tantalizing dance of pleasure and anticipation.

“Oh!” I moaned, feeling the building pressure, the inevitable release drawing near. “I’m going to cum. Soon. I’m going to…”

“Yes,” Max said in a deeper, more intense voice, his breath catching in his throat. “Cum with me now, baby! Now!” The command was irresistible, the desire too overwhelming. My body convulsed around my fingers, lost in the heat of the moment. The orgasm crashed over me, a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure. I licked my lips, savoring the taste of his essence, picturing the explosion of cum shooting out and dripping down all over. Our moans reached a fever pitch, a testament to the raw, primal connection between us. The world faded away as we succumbed to the pleasure, lost in the shared ecstasy of our bodies.

Finally, our breathing evened out, and Max said, “Well, it’s not as good as being with you, baby, but I’ll take it.”

“Thanks, baby,” I replied, my voice still shaking with pleasure. “That should help me get through my day until I get to see you this weekend.” A mischievous glint entered my eyes. “Or maybe we just needed to do this more often…”

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