Heavenward Pulse

The dim light of the bedroom cast long shadows, painting the room in hues of deep crimson and bruised purple. My cock pulsed in the darkness, a frantic heartbeat mirroring the frantic anticipation thrumming through my veins. It bounced with a frantic energy, pointed heavenward as if pleading for release. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the heat building within me, the promise of pleasure a tangible weight against my thighs.

My wife’s hand, warm and supple, began its slow, deliberate ascent up my leg. It brushed gently past my knee, then the tender curve of my thigh, sending shivers of delicious awareness through my core. I instinctively spread my legs, offering her easy access, a silent invitation to explore the landscape of my body. Her fingers, delicate yet firm, found their mark, cradling the tight, swollen scrotum in her palm. A low, contented purr vibrated against my skin as she began to massage, her touch both gentle and insistent.

“Oh, baby,” she murmured, her voice husky and laced with desire, “you’re so swollen. Do you want release?”

The question hung in the air, a heavy invitation. A raw, animalistic yearning erupted within me, and without hesitation, I whispered, “Yes,” my voice hoarse with desperate longing. The anticipation was exquisite, a torture masked as pleasure.

We waited, suspended in a moment of exquisite tension. Time seemed to warp and stretch, each second an eternity of building anticipation. She teased me, a favorite pastime, a slow, deliberate dance of denial and temptation. Her hand continued its rhythmic massage, each stroke a tiny, insistent reminder of the pleasure to come.

“Show me,” she finally commanded, her voice low and demanding.

With a surge of power, I reached up, taking the shaft of my cock in hand. It was a powerful, almost violent act, but one that felt completely natural, driven by an instinct I couldn’t resist. I began to pump, the rhythmic motion a primal force unleashed within me.

Her response was immediate, visceral. I felt her hand on the tip, pressing and rubbing against my most sensitive spot, the delicate orifice, the pee hole. The sensation was overwhelming, a searing, delightful agony that threatened to consume me entirely. It was the sweetest pain, a perfect balance between pleasure and torment.

In seconds, all of my pre-cum was gone, draining away as she expertly manipulated my body. Her thumb, surprisingly strong, rubbed rough over the soft, tender skin, a final, insistent caress before the main event. It was the most intense sensation I'd ever known, the line between pleasure and pain blurred beyond recognition.

My back arched and twisted, my muscles straining against the unnatural position. My legs tensed, desperate to draw up and protect me from the sharp, exquisite jabs of delight. I could barely breathe, my lungs caught between a desperate inhale and an explosive exhale. The pressure was relentless, a relentless assault on my senses.

I increased the tempo, pumping faster, matching the intensity of her touch. She continued to massage my balls, mirroring my rhythm, each stroke a step closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The relentless pounding drew out the moment, stretching it into an eternity. The pressure on the tip of my cock released, and I exhaled, releasing the pent-up tension as the fire began to subside.

I felt her hair cascade down onto my naked chest, tickling me mercilessly. A puff of cool air from between her lips stiffened my nipple, a tantalizing prelude to what was to come. Then, I shuddered, overcome by the warmth and wetness of her mouth as she began to suck. She flicked her tongue against its hardness, taking it between her teeth and nips it with surprising force.

“What is it, baby?” she whispered, her voice laced with playful amusement.

I couldn’t answer, couldn’t even think to form words. My senses were overwhelmed, my body consumed by a wave of pleasure so intense that it felt like I might explode.

“Do you like this, sweetie? Do you like me helping you?” she continued, her words humming around my nipple, making me quiver uncontrollably.

“Uh huh,” I grunted, the only sound I could manage. It was a primal affirmation, a desperate plea for more.

Her lips slid up my chest, tracing a path towards the base of my neck, leaving a trail of kisses that ignited a fire in my veins. My free hand came up to embrace her, but she slapped it away with a playful flick of her wrist.

“No touching,” she commanded, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

On my other arm, I could feel her breasts swaying and bumping me as I stroked, a constant reminder of her presence, her power. She nuzzled into my neck again, kissing tenderly, punctuating each kiss with a gentle squeeze to my balls. It was an assault on my senses, a delicious torment that pushed me closer to the brink.

My stroking sped up, urgency filling my veins. The heat was building, a volcanic eruption threatening to consume me entirely. I heard her take a shallow breath, her anticipation palpable. She clamped down, sucking hard, bruising my skin, marking me as her own. I could feel her tongue licking and stroking as she sucked, raising a hickie on my neck, a badge of honor from her brutal affection.

My loins began to rise, responding to the relentless stimulation. She must feel it in her hand as my balls drew up, my sack tightening in her grasp. The sensation was both agonizing and exhilarating, a perfect embodiment of the pleasure and pain that defined our connection.

She pulled away from me, and I opened my eyelids to sneak a quick glance at her beauty. Her piercing blue eyes were locked onto mine, a silent challenge and an invitation all in one. “Cheater,” she said, the delight of desire lighting her impish smile. “Now, show me.”

Her hand rested on my chest as I tightened my legs, pushing myself towards climax. Her fingers moved lower on my sack, stroking the skin between my balls and ass. She rolled my testicles from side to side with her palm, each stroke carrying me closer to the inevitable release. The pressure increased, becoming unbearable, but I clung to the edge, desperate to reach the summit.

She slipped her hand down over my chest, catching my nipple with the edge of her wedding ring band. The metal bit and held before popping free, twice. Thrice. The sensation was exquisite, a final, electrifying touch before the floodgates opened.

“Ahhhhhh Stacey – I’M CUMMING!” I roared, the words ripped from my throat.

I felt the surge begin, a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure washing over me. I clamped down inside, holding back the tide, building the pressure until it felt like my body was about to burst. My eyes went wide, as my body lost all control. The room seemed to spin, the world shrinking to the confines of my own pleasure. Sound became muted, lost in the roar of my orgasm.

For a brief moment, I couldn’t see straight. The whole room rocked, a chaotic dance of sensation. The last of the climax faded away, leaving behind an empty ache and a profound sense of release.

She laughed, reaching up with her clean hand to wipe my jism from her face. The other hand she pulled away from my organ, hovering over my stomach, cum dropping from it in air-cooled glops onto my skin. The scent of my seed mingled with hers, creating a heady, intoxicating aroma.

“There,” she said in satisfaction, her voice laced with a hint of triumph. “Now, hurry up – get cleaned and dressed before your parents arrive.”

She climbed off the bed, already fully-dressed, her movements graceful and confident. I knew she’d leave the cum that landed on her shirt; the wet spot would be her naughty reminder to seek a return favor from me later that night. The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

“Stacey,” I said, still breathless, “thank you.”

She smiled at me, somehow mixing purity and sexpot in a single glance. “That’s what help-meets are for.” And with that, she was gone, leaving me alone in the dim light, savoring the lingering pleasure and anticipating the next encounter.

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