Kansas Desire: Midnight Call

The plush velvet of the king-sized bed felt strangely cold beneath my naked skin. Rain lashed against the panoramic windows, mimicking the tempest brewing inside me. It had been three long days since I last saw him, three days of aching longing and desperate anticipation. My husband, David, was on a business trip to Kansas, a world away from this quiet, luxurious bedroom in our sprawling California estate. But the distance couldn’t diminish the primal pull, the insistent throb of desire that demanded fulfillment.

My phone lay silent on the nightstand, a constant reminder of my solitude. But the loneliness had been replaced by a burning need, a craving so intense it felt like a physical ache. Without hesitation, I picked it up and dialed his number. The ringing was deafening, a frantic plea for connection in the vastness of the night.

“Hi, babe,” his voice, warm and familiar, cut through the rain’s drumming. He was undoubtedly in his room at this hour, a little past midnight. “What’s up?”

“Hi,” I replied, my voice a breathless whisper. “I’m missing you like crazy, baby. And I'm absolutely starving for you. Just thinking about your touch sends shivers down my spine.” I paused, savoring the anticipation, letting the words hang in the air. “I just want you here, right now.”

“Oh, come on,” he chuckled, a playful tease that did little to quell my mounting excitement. “Two more days, babe. You know how it is with these business trips.”

Two more days felt like an eternity. My fingers instinctively moved, tracing the contours of my own body, feeling the subtle shift in my arousal as his words ignited a fresh wave of heat. I let out a small moan, a primal release of pent-up desire. "I'm dripping bad," I confessed, my voice laced with a hint of shame and exhilaration.

“What, you’re naked?” he asked, his tone laced with amusement.

“Me too,” I replied, a blush creeping up my neck despite the circumstances. The thought of his touch, his scent, the way he held me, consumed me entirely. “I would absolutely love to be there and give you a proper, long, slow blowjob, drink every last drop of your cum, and then lose myself in the depths of our passion.”

“Oh,” he responded, a low rumble in his voice. “Sounds intense. I’m just masturbating right now, myself.”

“Oh,” I echoed, my own hands already moving in a frantic rhythm against my swollen clitoris. The pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave of sensation threatening to drown me in its intensity. I let out a louder moan, pushing myself further into the edge of ecstasy. "Let's do this, then," I whispered, my voice thick with desire.

With a deep breath, I turned on the video call, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for his response. And there he was, in his hotel room, sitting on the commode, his eyes fixed on the screen. He was clearly caught in the same throes of lust as I was, his own arousal palpable in the way he gripped himself.

“Hi!” I called out, my voice trembling slightly.

He looked at me, his gaze lingering on my exposed body. My shame warred with the overwhelming pleasure, but the desire was too strong to resist. Without hesitation, I began to take charge, pushing myself deeper into the bed, drawing him closer to me. The rain continued its relentless assault, a fitting soundtrack to our shared release.

As the minutes passed, my body responded to his touch, my muscles tensing and relaxing in a rhythmic dance of pleasure. I let out a series of groans, each one a testament to the exquisite sensations coursing through my veins. My vaginal muscles contracted, pushing against the confines of my body, as I unleashed a torrent of hot, wet, and fragrant cum. The pleasure was intense, almost unbearable, but I held on, determined to savor every moment.

Meanwhile, David was doing his part, his own arousal building with each passing second. He responded to my moans, his voice a low, guttural rumble as he continued to masturbate with feverish intensity. The two of us, separated by thousands of miles, were united in our shared desire, lost in a world of pure, unadulterated lust.

As the waves of pleasure washed over me, I realized that this was exactly what I needed. The loneliness, the longing, the desperation – all of it had led me to this moment, to this shared experience of ecstasy. I leaned closer to the camera, my body trembling with anticipation.

Suddenly, a surge of pleasure overwhelmed me, and I lost all control. A torrent of cum erupted from my body, coating the phone in its viscous, golden warmth. It was a messy, chaotic release, but I didn't care. I felt a sense of liberation, a feeling of complete abandon.

David, too, was experiencing a similar surge of pleasure, his own release mirroring mine. The room filled with the sounds of our shared ecstasy, a symphony of moans, groans, and gasps of pleasure.

As the intensity of our passion subsided, I caught a glimpse of myself on the phone screen. My body was covered in sweat, my face flushed with pleasure, but I couldn't stop smiling. I had never felt so alive, so connected, so utterly consumed by desire.

I quickly pulled on my underwear and bra, covering my nakedness, but the feeling of liberation lingered. I lay back against the pillows, feeling the lingering warmth of our shared experience. It was time to sleep, but the memory of our encounter would undoubtedly stay with me for a long time to come.

The next morning, I woke up to the insistent banging on the door. My three-year-old son, Leo, was demanding my attention. As I reached for the door, I realized that I couldn't simply ignore him. I had to find a way to cover myself, to maintain some semblance of privacy.

Panic surged through me as I frantically searched for something to wear, anything that could provide a modicum of modesty. But in the midst of my haste, I forgot the lingering effects of our previous night's encounter. The scent of cum still clung to my clothes, a constant reminder of the passion that had consumed us.

As I finally managed to pull on a robe, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were wide with surprise, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The shame was overwhelming, but it was quickly overshadowed by a familiar wave of desire. The memory of David, his touch, his scent, filled my mind, pulling me back into the depths of our shared experience.

And as I turned away from the mirror, my body moved instinctively, drawing me back towards the bed where we had lost ourselves in ecstasy. The rain continued its relentless drumming, but now it sounded like a celebration, a soundtrack to the rekindling of our passion. The thought of seeing him again, of feeling his touch, filled me with a renewed sense of longing. I knew that two more days would feel like an eternity, but I was determined to make the most of the time we had together. My body, my mind, and my soul were all consumed by the desire for him, a desire that knew no bounds and demanded fulfillment. It was a primal urge, a fundamental need, and it would not be denied. The world outside could wait; tonight, all that mattered was the intense, overwhelming pleasure of being with him.

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