Forbidden Touch: Wet Dreams & Shame

The rain hammered against the windows of our bedroom, a relentless rhythm mirroring the insistent thrumming beneath my skin. Mark, my husband of five years, lay beside me, a mountain of muscle and quiet strength. He was a good man, a devoted one, but there was a part of him, a hidden landscape, that I desperately wanted to explore. He'd never been comfortable with oral sex, dismissing it as something for strangers, a shameful indulgence. The thought of his hesitation, of this unfulfilled desire within him, had gnawed at me for months.

Last night had been perfect, a symphony of pleasure between us. We’d lost ourselves in the familiar comfort of our intertwined bodies, the heat of our passion a tangible force. Afterward, as I lay nestled in his arms, feeling the warmth of his cum trickle down my legs, a reckless thought seized me. It wasn't just the physical sensation, but the sheer audacity of the suggestion, the challenge of breaking through his ingrained resistance.

"You know," I murmured, tracing the line of his jaw with my fingertips, "I was thinking about kissing your penis. Just a gentle peck, you know? Like you'd expect from a friend."

His eyes flickered open, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. “That’s what prostitutes do,” he muttered, a defensive edge creeping into his voice. He didn’t outright reject the idea, but the reluctance was palpable. It was a small victory, a crack in his carefully constructed wall.

We continued our usual routine, a comfortable dance of intimacy, but the seed of my desire had been planted. The next day, while he was showering, I paced the floor, a restless energy building within me. I knew this was my chance, the opportune moment to push past his reservations.

As he emerged, drying himself with a towel, I took a deep breath and made my move. "Mark," I said, my voice soft but firm, "I want to kiss your penis. May I?"

His expression shifted, a mix of confusion and apprehension. He hesitated, clearly wrestling with his own inhibitions. But the look in my eyes, the burning intensity of my desire, seemed to break through his defenses.

"Alright," he finally conceded, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "But just a peck. Don't get any wild ideas."

I lowered myself onto the edge of the bed, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his erect member, savoring the feel of his skin beneath my lips. It was a simple act, but it felt monumental, a step into uncharted territory.

As I continued to kiss him, slowly tracing the contours of his body, he began to tremble slightly, his muscles tightening beneath my touch. It wasn't just physical arousal; there was a deeper, more primal connection forming between us.

"Do you want to suck it?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. The question hung in the air, loaded with unspoken possibilities.

"Of course!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with a desperate eagerness. The thought of claiming his pleasure, of dominating his senses, sent a shiver down my spine.

"Okay," he said, his voice now laced with anticipation. "Go ahead and suck."

Taking his shaft in my hand, I gently lowered my lips to his head, feeling the warmth of his skin against my mouth. The initial sensation was hesitant, a tentative exploration. But as I grew bolder, my movements became more insistent, my grip tighter.

He began to ooze pre-cum, a thick, viscous fluid that coated his skin. It was an invitation, a sign that he was ready to surrender to my desires. I slid my mouth down his shaft, almost touching his balls, enjoying the way his muscles flexed beneath my touch. The sight of him bobbing his head up and down, a look of surprised pleasure on his face, was intoxicating.

“This is amazing!” he gasped, his voice filled with delight. “It’s a lot better than I thought. Can we reverse the roles?”

"Of course," I replied, releasing my hold on his cock. "But one thing. When I suck you, please don’t shoot in my mouth. We’ll talk about doing that later."

I brought my clean-shaven pussy to his mouth, sniffing the scent of his arousal. It was a strange, yet thrilling combination of masculine and feminine, a testament to the power of our connection. He pushed his tongue inside, and I felt a wave of pleasure wash over me as he began to suck the juices from my wetness. It was an intimate, almost shameful act, but it felt utterly right.

Soon, he found my clitoris and began to roll his tongue gently over it, working his way around its sensitive peak. The sensation was exquisite, a slow burn that intensified with each passing moment. I moaned, lost in the pleasure, unable to resist the pull of his touch.

“Enough!” I shouted, pulling back just enough to catch my breath. “Let’s fuck.”

I gave his cock one more mouth lube before laying back, feeling the heat rising within me. He inserted his hard cock into my pussy, and with a mighty force, pumped it into me like a piston. At the same time, we went into frenzied mouth kisses, our bodies locked in a desperate embrace. The heat built up as I felt myself cumming, my muscles contracting involuntarily.

I shifted sideways a little, enjoying the sensation of his cum shooting deep inside my pussy. He pumped as spurt after spurt ejaculated, filling me with a sense of profound satisfaction. My pussy was a sight to behold, a glistening mass of pleasure, as sperm leaked in between my legs and onto my anus. It was a messy, primal experience, and I reveled in every moment.

As he withdrew, I clung to him, burying my face in his chest, unable to tear myself away. Without even bothering to clean up, we embraced one another and fell off to sleep, exhausted but deeply satisfied.

The next morning, as we realized the extent of our shared experience, I asked, "Can we make oral love before a routine?"

"Most definitely!" he uttered, his voice filled with a newfound enthusiasm. And so began our custom of oral sex and cocksucking in almost every intense lovemaking time, transforming our bedroom into a haven of pleasure and transgression. The rain continued to fall outside, but inside, we had created our own perfect storm, a tempest of lust and desire that left us breathless and utterly fulfilled. The initial hesitation, the unspoken resistance, had melted away, replaced by a shared understanding and a mutual enjoyment of our newfound intimacy. Our bodies moved together in a rhythmic dance of pleasure, a testament to the enduring power of love and the liberating experience of breaking down barriers.

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