Forgotten Promises, Rekindled Flame

The scent of jasmine and sandalwood hung heavy in the air, a fragrant reminder of the frenetic energy of the past few days. Six years. Six years since we’d truly connected, lost in the whirlwind of wedding preparations for Alia’s brother, Arjun. The event, a lavish affair, had consumed us, pulling us away from the intimate sanctuary of our own desires. Now, finally, the chaos subsided, and the quiet hum of the hotel room felt like a promise. Alia, radiant in an olive green, floral-embroidered net saree, stepped into the room, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Am I looking ‘hot’?” she whispered, leaning against the doorframe, her presence instantly igniting a familiar fire within me. I could only nod, captivated by the sheer sensuality of her form, a stark contrast to the more reserved attire she’d worn all day. The last step she took brought her close, her breath warm against my skin as she whispered, “Let’s spice things up.” The suggestion hung in the air, thick with unspoken longing, and a surge of anticipation coursed through my veins.

“How?” I asked, my voice barely a murmur, trying to maintain a semblance of composure while battling the primal urge to succumb to the heat that was building between us.

“Why don’t we do some roleplay?” she countered, her eyes sparkling with playful defiance. The idea struck a chord, a welcome diversion from the stressful days leading up to the wedding. A thrill shot downward, a delicious reminder of the raw, uninhibited passion that still simmered beneath the surface of our well-established marriage. “What did you have in mind?” I inquired, pushing back the encroaching waves of desire.

“Let’s pretend that we just got married today, and it’s our wedding night,” she suggested, her voice laced with invitation. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, transporting me back to that first, unforgettable encounter. A shared memory, a potent trigger that amplified the electric current already crackling between us. “How should I start?” I asked, a hint of nervousness creeping into my tone, despite the overwhelming desire to lose myself in the fantasy.

“Do whatever you want,” she replied, her gaze unwavering, challenging me to embrace the moment fully. It was a simple command, yet it held an undeniable power, stripping away the layers of routine and expectation that had accumulated over the years. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the upcoming encounter, and nodded my agreement. “Okay, then,” I shrugged, releasing the pent-up tension and stepping into the role of the eager groom.

First, I unclasped the pin that secured her saree at the shoulder, the delicate silk sliding down her back, revealing the smooth curve of her spine. She accepted my touch with a subtle smile, but instinctively covered her breasts with her hands, a delicate gesture of modesty that only served to heighten the tension. As I removed the thin blouse beneath, the soft fabric pooled around her, accentuating her figure. The hooks of the blouse were stubborn, requiring a bit of effort, but I persevered, savoring the anticipation of what lay beneath. Finally, she relinquished her grip, and I carefully removed her brassiere, revealing the generous swell of her breasts – her “mangoes,” as I affectionately called them.

Now completely unencumbered, Alia turned to me, a playful expectation in her eyes, anticipating my next move. But I remained still, lost in admiration of her beauty, struggling to break free from the intoxicating effect of her presence. Suddenly, she rose from the bed, her movements graceful and deliberate, and began to unbutton my shirt and shorts, her fingers lingering teasingly along my erect member before she took it in her mouth. She began to suck, a more passionate and insistent rhythm than I remembered from our first night, a playful deviation from the initial fantasy.

As she worked her way across my body, I reached down to loosen the cords of her lehenga, but she resisted my advances, pushing my hands away with a playful shove. With a surge of determination, I grabbed both of her hands and lifted them above her head, effectively disarming her. Extracting myself from her mouth, I raised her gently, and swiftly removed her skirt and panty, the sudden exposure of her bare body sending a jolt of pure pleasure through me. Her beauty, raw and uninhibited, filled me with a primal excitement that threatened to consume me entirely. Like a child discovering the wonders of a new toy, I began to explore every curve of her body, tracing the line of her hip, marveling at the swell of her breasts, each detail a testament to her exquisite form.

I thanked God for bestowing upon me such a beautiful and sensual wife. Then, fueled by the heat of the moment, I began my assault, crushing her breasts with both hands and biting into her nipples, sucking deeply at her chest. I kissed her all over, pausing to lightly lick a circle around her belly button before continuing downward, my tongue tracing the contours of her body with unrestrained passion. Finally, I plunged my finger deep inside, rotating it with deliberate force, seeking to maximize the pleasure she derived from my touch.

As I continued my relentless pursuit, Alia whimpered and moaned, begging me to continue, her pleas a desperate cry for release. Only when I felt her walls repeatedly clasping at my cock and knew she had reached her peak did I let go, exploding with white-hot pulses of desire. Gasps and laughter filled the room as we collapsed atop each other, clinging to one another in a tangled embrace. Her arms wrapped around me possessively, her fingers stroking my sweat-soaked shoulderblades with languid tenderness.

I remembered my first sexual experience with joy, but replaying it years later with greater control has its own unique charm. The shared memories, the rekindled desire, the sheer pleasure of surrendering to our instincts – it was a potent cocktail that left us both breathless and utterly satisfied. The jasmine and sandalwood scent lingered in the air, a fragrant testament to the passionate encounter that had just taken place, a reminder of the enduring connection that bound us together. As I drifted off to sleep, nestled against Alia’s warm body, I knew that our reawakened passion would continue to ignite our lives, transforming our well-established marriage into an even more thrilling adventure.

Did you like this story? Forgotten Promises, Rekindled Flame look, but like these, here Story taboo sex.