His Absence, My Desire

The rain hammered against the windows of our small apartment, a relentless rhythm mirroring the frantic beat of my heart. It had been a week since Daniel returned from his business trip, a week of aching anticipation and restless nights spent tracing the phantom warmth of his skin. He’d just dropped his travel bag, a worn leather monstrosity, and in one fluid motion, had wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close as if desperate to absorb every molecule of his scent. The kiss was fierce, demanding, a primal need that bypassed my thoughts entirely. Looking into his eyes, I saw the same yearning reflected back at me, a silent acknowledgment of the storm brewing between us. We closed the door, plunging ourselves into the darkness, and the ritual began. Clothes were discarded with hurried abandon, each movement fueled by a desperate desire to connect, to lose ourselves in the immediate, raw pleasure of being together. My body responded instantly, slick with anticipation, a tremor running through me as I felt the heat of his arousal spreading across my own flesh.

He positioned himself, a dark silhouette against the muted light filtering through the blinds, and with a guttural growl, he pushed himself into me. The initial contact was electrifying, a surge of sensation that bypassed my mind and went straight to my core. I arched my hips, a silent invitation, and he responded with a powerful thrust, a relentless force that demanded my complete surrender. It wasn’t gentle, not at first. It was a primal, urgent act of claiming, a declaration of possession. The world narrowed to the feel of his muscles contracting against my flesh, the heat radiating from his body, the desperate rhythm of our movements. I moaned, a raw, involuntary sound that seemed to amplify the intensity of the encounter. As he penetrated deeper, I felt a wave of pleasure wash over me, a delicious agony that left me breathless and trembling. My body writhed, seeking release, and he responded with increasing speed and force, pushing me further into the brink of ecstasy. The sweat poured down my back, clinging to my skin, a testament to the heat of the moment. We moved together, a tangled mess of limbs and desires, lost in the intoxicating dance of our bodies. It was a release, a letting go, a complete and utter immersion in the present moment.

He pulled back, panting, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He laid me on the bed, his hand gently stroking my stomach. The warmth of his touch, combined with the lingering heat of our encounter, sent shivers down my spine. "I can't wait any longer," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. He lowered himself again, his movements deliberate and controlled. This time, he approached with tenderness, a stark contrast to the earlier frenzy. He focused on my pleasure, anticipating my every need. He pumped slowly, rhythmically, savoring each moment, allowing me to guide the pace. The sensation was exquisite, a gentle, insistent pleasure that built slowly, relentlessly, until it reached its peak. I cried out, lost in the throes of ecstasy, my body shaking with the intensity of the experience. We clung to each other, lost in the shared euphoria, our bodies intertwined, our souls intertwined. The rain continued to beat against the windows, but inside our little world, all was calm and perfect.

Later that night, as the storm began to subside, he held me close, his lips tracing the curve of my jaw. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness. "The way we feel together, the way we complete each other." I nestled into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body radiating through me. As we drifted off to sleep, I knew that our love was something truly special, something worth fighting for.

The next morning, I was already feeling the familiar pangs of pregnancy, a subtle reminder of the life growing within me. My body felt heavy, swollen, but my desire for Daniel remained as strong as ever. He noticed my discomfort and immediately took charge. He massaged my aching muscles, his touch gentle yet firm, easing the tension and bringing me a measure of relief. Then, he gently guided me towards the bed, where he stripped me naked and positioned himself above me. He knew exactly what to do, how to touch me, how to ignite my senses. He took his time, savoring each moment, ensuring my pleasure was paramount. As he penetrated me, I felt a surge of pleasure mixed with a deep sense of vulnerability. It was both exhilarating and frightening, knowing that we were creating something new, something precious, within me.

Later that day, I had a work meeting. My stomach was particularly sensitive, and the thought of navigating the office in this state filled me with dread. But when I arrived, Daniel was waiting for me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Don't worry," he whispered, "I'll take care of things." He gently guided me to a quiet corner, where he helped me find a comfortable chair. Then, he did something unexpected. He asked me to come home early, claiming he had a surprise for me. My heart pounded with anticipation. I knew exactly what he had in mind. When I arrived back at our apartment, he was waiting for me, dressed only in a towel. The midday sun streamed through the windows, illuminating our naked bodies fully. He took my hand and led me to the bed. He dropped his towel, revealing the stark reality of our situation. As we lay there, naked and vulnerable, the heat between us intensified.

He began kissing me, slowly and deliberately, tracing the contours of my body with his lips. Then, he lowered himself onto me, his movements slow and sensual. He reached for my clitoris, his fingers teasing and tantalizing before gently inserting them into the folds of my labia. The pleasure was immediate and overwhelming, a wave of sensation that left me breathless and trembling. I moaned, lost in the throes of ecstasy, my body convulsing with the intensity of the experience. He continued his ministrations, exploring every inch of my body, ensuring my pleasure was absolute. At one point, he pulled back, his eyes filled with desire. "Let's try doggy style," he whispered, his voice husky with anticipation. I complied, slowly and deliberately, as he positioned himself behind me. He pumped hard, his muscles contracting rhythmically, pushing me closer and closer to the brink of climax. The heat built until it exploded, sending shivers down my spine. We released our juices simultaneously, a torrent of pleasure that left us both gasping for air. As we lay there, exhausted but satisfied, I knew that our love was truly something special.

As my pregnancy progressed, our sex life shifted again. My body became increasingly sensitive, and the pleasure was often accompanied by pain. But Daniel never wavered in his commitment to satisfying my needs. He learned to adapt, to find new ways to stimulate my pleasure, even in the midst of discomfort. He would gently massage my swollen belly while simultaneously attending to my needs. It was a delicate dance, a constant negotiation between pleasure and pain, but we always found a way to make it work. During one particularly difficult day, he noticed my distress and immediately took action. He held me close, whispering words of comfort and encouragement. Then, he gently massaged my clitoris, finding a spot that provided relief without causing further pain. The effect was immediate, a soothing balm to my aching body. We continued to explore each other, finding solace in the shared intimacy of our bodies.

In the final weeks of my pregnancy, our sex life dwindled, replaced by a deep, profound love that transcended the need for physical intimacy. I knew that soon, our world would change forever. But I also knew that our love would endure, a constant reminder of the joy and fulfillment we had shared. When my son was born, he was perfect, a tiny, wriggling bundle of joy. Holding him in my arms, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love. As I gazed at my husband, I knew that we had created something truly extraordinary. He looked back at me, his eyes filled with adoration, and I knew that our love story was far from over. I carefully folded the letter I had written, a testament to my longing for him, and placed it on the bedside table. It was time to put my desires into action, to reclaim the passionate connection we had shared in the early years of our marriage. The rain had stopped, and a single ray of sunshine broke through the clouds, illuminating our room with a warm, golden glow. It was a sign, I thought, that our love was meant to last forever.

Did you like this story? His Absence, My Desire look, but like these, here Story taboo sex.