Forbidden Weekend Getaway

The rain hammered against the panoramic windows of the mountain resort, a relentless, insistent drumming that mirrored the frantic beat of my heart. Three days. Just three days until my husband, Liam, was due to return, a brief reprieve from the monotonous rhythm of my life as a stay-at-home mother to six-year-old Lily and three-year-old Daisy. Homeschooling, laundry, dinner prep, tantrums – it was a never-ending cycle, and lately, it felt suffocating. Liam’s extended deployments were supposed to be an escape, a chance to reconnect, to lose ourselves in the intoxicating heat of passion. But as the hours stretched on, and the opulent surroundings of this lavish retreat seemed to mock my restlessness, I found myself yearning for something more than just the scheduled intimacy we’d planned.

The resort itself was a monument to excess, a sprawling complex of stone and glass clinging precariously to the mountainside. A private butler, a ridiculously attentive young man named Julian, had greeted us upon arrival, showering us with an almost unnerving level of service. He’d unpacked our luggage, ironed our clothes, even polished our shoes for our dinner date, anticipating our every need before we even voiced it. It felt absurd, this level of pampering, but also strangely comforting in its ability to shield me from the ordinary.

Our room was breathtaking, a sanctuary of plush velvet, rich mahogany, and crystal chandeliers. The centerpiece was a California King bed draped in the most decadent silk linens I’d ever seen. A massive bathroom boasted a walk-in shower and a freestanding tub large enough for two, a silent invitation to indulge in the pleasures of solitude. And then there was the day room, complete with a roaring fireplace and oversized leather sofas, perfect for lazy afternoons spent lost in conversation.

We had planned a romantic dinner at the resort’s Michelin-starred restaurant, but as the evening wore on, the polite small talk and forced smiles began to feel strained. The desire for something deeper, something raw and untamed, simmered beneath the surface, demanding release. That’s when I decided to act on it.

I slipped into the orange lace lingerie I’d purchased specifically for this trip, a provocative number designed to ignite desire. The straps felt cool against my skin, a subtle tease that heightened my anticipation. I grabbed a pair of lacy black thigh-high stockings, pulling them up to my knees, feeling the silk slide against my skin. As I approached the couch where Liam was reading, I couldn't resist a playful advance.

I settled into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne, a potent blend of sandalwood and leather. Gently, I unbuttoned his shirt, tracing the line of his chest with my fingertips, savoring the warmth radiating from his skin. Then, with a playful tug, I pulled his earlobe into my mouth, sucking gently, sending shivers down his spine. He instinctively clutched my arm, his grip tightening as he turned toward me, his eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and arousal.

As I continued to tease him, unbuttoning his shirt further, revealing the hint of his arousal, a primal instinct took over. The desire for connection, for release, surged through me, eclipsing the fatigue and boredom of the past few days. I leaned in, pressing my lips against his neck, kissing him with a desperate urgency. The scent of his skin, the feel of his pulse beneath my lips, sent a wave of heat through my veins.

With deliberate slowness, I began to unbuckle his belt, anticipating the moment when he would remove his pants and expose his magnificent cock. I had imagined this scene countless times, fantasizing about the pleasure it would bring, but the reality was even more exhilarating. Finally, he complied, pulling off his belt and then his trousers, revealing a massive, throbbing member that seemed to radiate heat. The sight of it sent a jolt of electricity through me, igniting a frenzy of desire.

I knelt before him, grasping his cock in both hands, feeling its taut muscles beneath my fingertips. With a playful twist, I began to rotate it in opposite directions from the base up to the head, feeling the rhythm of his arousal intensify. Simultaneously, I ran my tongue from his balls to the top of his head, savoring the taste of his skin, the roughness of his hair. It was a sensation unlike any I’d ever experienced, both overwhelming and incredibly satisfying.

As he grew harder and more intense, I felt my own body respond in kind. My legs began to tremble, my breath came in ragged gasps, and a wave of heat washed over me. I was completely consumed by the moment, lost in the intoxicating pleasure of his touch.

He leaned me back against a stack of pillows, his hand supporting my head, as he began to stroke my stockinged legs and thighs. The feeling of his calloused hand against my skin sent shivers down my spine. I moaned softly, anticipating the inevitable. At that point, I knew I needed to take control, to push him past his limits.

As I opened my legs, he bent down, his gaze intense, and began to lick and suck my swollen clitoris. His tongue was cool and silky against my hot flesh, an exquisite torture that left me begging for more. I arched my back, pulling him closer, desperate for his touch. The anticipation built, a delicious tension that threatened to explode.

I grasped his shoulders and dragged him face-to-face with me, my body trembling with excitement. He positioned his cock against my aching pussy, then kissed me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, tasting the nectar of my pleasure. The sweetness of his saliva mingled with my own arousal, creating an intoxicating blend of sensations.

Slowly, he began to push his cock inch by inch inside, stretching my vaginal walls, extending my pleasure to its very limits. He stayed there, holding me firm, whispering words of encouragement as he continued his assault. I clung to him, lost in the depths of our shared ecstasy, completely surrendering to the moment.

As he neared climax, I shifted my weight, taking control of the situation. I spread my legs wider, feeling the heat intensify, and began to stroke my clitoris, amplifying the pleasure. He pulled out, then quickly re-entered, resuming his thrusts with renewed vigor.

Finally, he reached the peak of his arousal, releasing a torrent of cum into my waiting body. The force of his orgasm sent waves of pleasure through me, shaking my entire being. I moaned, lost in the intensity of the moment, unable to speak or move.

He pulled out again, flipping me over on my belly and pushing his cock back into my wet pussy. This time, I took the lead, stroking my clitoris in time with his thrusts, feeling his balls slap my pussy lips. "Is it good for you, babe?" I asked, my voice hoarse with pleasure.

His response was a guttural groan, lost in the throes of his arousal. He needed to cum on my cock for me, he wanted to feel my pulsing pussy. I responded by arching my back, pulling him closer, and reaching for his face, pulling him down to kiss me deeply.

He positioned his cock against my aching pussy, then kissed me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, tasting the sweetness of my arousal. The sensation was incredible, overwhelming, and utterly addictive.

As he continued to penetrate me, stretching my vaginal walls, I lost all sense of self. Time ceased to exist, replaced by a singular focus on the exquisite pleasure of the moment. I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly, feeling the heat of his body against mine. Tears welled up in my eyes, tears of pure, unadulterated bliss.

The rain continued to fall, but it no longer bothered me. The world outside faded away, replaced by the intimacy of our shared experience. Lost in the depths of our passion, we remained intertwined, seeking solace and connection in each other's arms. The three days had flown by, but in this moment, suspended between pleasure and release, it felt like an eternity. The mountain resort, with its opulent surroundings and private butler, had provided the perfect setting for this unforgettable encounter, a brief escape from the ordinary, a reminder of the power of desire and the enduring strength of our love.

Did you like this story? Forbidden Weekend Getaway look, but like these, here Sex stories.