Harvest Moon's Desire

The rain hammered against the windows of the farmhouse, a relentless rhythm mirroring the nervous flutter in my stomach. It had been far too long since we’d had a proper date, a stolen moment just for us, away from the demands of the harvest and the persistent ache of my pregnancy. My husband, Ben, had planned this night weeks ago, a desperate attempt to recapture the spark that had once burned so brightly between us. Now, here we were, in the quiet solitude of our home, hoping to rekindle that flame.

I’d spent the afternoon meticulously preparing myself, a small act of defiance against the exhaustion and nausea that had become my constant companions. A touch of makeup, carefully applied to mask the dark circles under my eyes, a simple, flowing dress that hinted at the curves beneath, and a carefully braided hairstyle – all designed to remind me, and hopefully him, of the woman I used to be. As Ben’s truck rattled up the drive, a familiar scent of leather and diesel filling the air, a surge of anticipation coursed through me.

He burst through the door, drenched and weary from the farm, his broad shoulders glistening with sweat. The sight of him, even after all these years, still sent a shiver down my spine. He stripped off his muddy boots and jacket, revealing the taut muscles of his body, a stark contrast to the softness of my belly. As he stepped into the shower, the rumble of the water echoing through the house, my gaze followed every movement – the way his firm ass bounced against the tiled wall, the quick, efficient movements of his body as he washed away the grime of the day. It was a primal display, a reminder of the raw desire that still simmered beneath the surface of our relationship.

I watched from the doorway, my heart pounding in my chest, as he emerged, dripping and invigorated. The sight of his exposed body, the flexing of his muscles as he quickly dried himself, ignited a fire within me. I felt a familiar heat rise in my throat, a tingling sensation that spread through my entire body. As he turned to face me, his eyes met mine, and a slow smile spread across his face. It wasn't a smile of tenderness, but one of anticipation, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken desires between us.

“Hey, you’re letting all the steam out! Go finish getting ready!” he called out, his voice laced with playful command.

With a playful shrug, I turned and slipped into the bedroom, changing quickly from my work clothes to a casual, night-out dress. The simple garment clung to my curves, highlighting my burgeoning belly and drawing attention to the swell of my breasts. As I preened in front of the mirror, admiring the surprise hiding beneath the fabric, I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. This wasn’t just a date; it was an opportunity to reclaim a piece of myself, to remind myself that I was still desirable, still sensual, still worthy of attention.

Ten minutes later, we were both dressed and pulling on our coats, eager to escape the confines of our home and indulge in the pleasures of the evening. We drove to the most esteemed restaurant in our small town, a place known for its exquisite cuisine and discreet atmosphere. As we waited for our reservation, I couldn’t help but notice Ben’s restlessness, the way he constantly checked his watch and fidgeted with his hands. He seemed eager to get to the main event, the part of the night that held the most promise.

Once seated, I immediately opened the menu, scanning the descriptions with a practiced eye. I ordered my meal and drinks at the same time as Ben, carefully choosing dishes that would complement the experience. When he finally ordered, his choice of the chicken Santa Fe caught my attention.

“That sounds great, hun, but are you sure that will give you enough energy for everything we have planned tonight?” I asked, my voice laced with playful challenge.

His jaw dropped in awe, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He hesitated for a moment, then cleared his throat and changed his order. With a wink, the waitress disappeared, leaving us to ourselves.

“I can’t believe you said that,” he gasped, his voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

I leaned in close, my breath warm against his ear, and whispered, “I can’t believe you’d pass up the chance for a bronco burger, especially knowing I’m going to put those calories to good use.”

As he struggled to contain his arousal, I gently lifted my foot and placed it on his leg, my toes playfully teasing his sensitive flesh. I could feel his muscles tense beneath my touch, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “Put that away—there’re no tablecloths here!” he grunted, his voice thick with desire.

I withdrew my foot, but my intentions remained clear. "I’ll have you know, I’m going to have my fun tonight."

The meal itself was a decadent affair, each course a symphony of flavors and textures. As we savored the food and wine, I stole glances at Ben, studying his features, tracing the lines of his face. His eyes held a familiar warmth, a deep affection that transcended the physical. In those moments, I realized that our connection was far more profound than mere lust; it was built on years of shared experiences, mutual respect, and an undeniable love.

As we made our way to the movie theater, I couldn’t help but reminisce about our first date, six years ago. The awkward conversation, the hesitant glances, the missed opportunities – it all seemed so distant now, so insignificant in the grand scheme of our lives. Back then, our only shared encounter had been a fleeting touch of hands in the popcorn. Now, we were married, with all the liberties and intimacies that came with that union.

Inside the theater, we found a perfect spot in the middle, ensuring optimal audio and privacy. As the opening credits rolled, I leaned my head against Ben’s arm, my breast pressing gently against his side. I rubbed his earlobe, sending shivers of pleasure through his body, whispering sweet nothings of my appreciation. The scent of his skin filled my senses, a comforting reminder of his presence.

As the movie progressed, I allowed my thoughts to wander, indulging in fantasies of what might come next. The anticipation built within me, a delicious tension that heightened my senses. It was then, in the dark of the theater, that I decided to break the monotony.

“Hun,” I whispered, my voice barely audible above the sound of the film, “do you have those raffle tickets? I’d hate to miss out on the draw after the movie.”

He shrugged, his eyes glued to the screen, and mumbled, “I think we put them in your purse.”

With a mischievous grin, I swiveled in my seat and leaned towards the floor, angling my skirt so that a tantalizing glimpse of lace peeked out from beneath. As I took my time, I heard him gasp and felt his finger trace up my exposed leg. With a playful smirk, I withdrew my foot, promising more to come.

Before the movie ended, I decided to take things a step further. Reaching into the bag of popcorn, I deftly pulled out a handful of kernels, manipulating them to create a makeshift projectile. As I aimed it towards Ben’s face, he caught my wrist, pulling me back to my seat and preventing me from unleashing my playful attack.

“Behave! If you’re quiet and good, I’ll reward you when we get home,” he warned, his voice a mixture of exasperation and desire.

With a faux pout, I nodded in agreement, feigning innocence while secretly savoring the challenge. As the movie drew to a close, I couldn’t resist another opportunity to tease him. “So what’s my reward?” I whispered, my voice dripping with anticipation.

He shrugged, a hint of smugness in his eyes, and replied, “You know exactly what your reward is.”

As we exited the theater, I turned to face him, my gaze lingering on his lips. I leaned in close, brushing my cheek against his, and whispered, “Let’s go home, my love.”

Back at our farmhouse, the anticipation grew with each passing moment. We found ourselves drawn to the bedroom, eager to resume the game that had begun on our date night. As we lay entangled in the sheets, our bodies moved in unison, a testament to the deep connection that bound us together. The rain continued to fall outside, but inside, a different kind of storm was brewing – a storm of passion, desire, and unbridled pleasure. The night was far from over, and I knew that we would continue to explore the boundaries of our love, pushing each other to the edge of ecstasy.

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