Late Nights, Burning Desire

The rain hammered against the windows, mirroring the storm brewing inside me. Three months. Three agonizing months of stolen glances, desperate touches, and a constant, gnawing hunger. My wife, Sarah, had gotten a promotion, a huge step up at her advertising firm, but it had come at a cost – a significant decrease in our time together. She was gone for hours each day, returning late, exhausted, and distant. The small apartment felt cavernous without her, filled only with the silence of my loneliness and the insistent throbbing of my urges. The frustration built, a slow, insidious pressure that threatened to consume me. I needed her, desperately, and the need was turning into a raging, uncontrollable fire.

A week bled into another, each day a torturous repetition of longing. My body screamed for release, my cock a clenched fist begging for the sweet relief of her touch. I fantasized constantly, replaying memories, building scenarios, anything to distract myself from the ache of her absence. The thought of her, her scent, her warmth, fueled the inferno within. Then came the argument. A petty disagreement about her late hours, a careless remark about her neglecting me, and suddenly the dam broke. Harsh words were exchanged, accusations thrown, and the fragile peace we had built began to crumble. The anger simmered, hot and raw, and with it, the need intensified. I felt like a wild animal trapped in a cage, pacing and clawing at the bars, desperate to break free.

Wednesday arrived, a dark omen hanging over my head. My parents called, their voices filled with concern. My son, little Timmy, had been picked up early from daycare due to a fever. They’d agreed to drop him off at seven. A glimmer of hope flickered within me, a chance to see Sarah, even if it was just for a brief moment. I rushed home, anticipation buzzing through my veins. But when I flung open the door, the sight that greeted me shattered my fragile composure. Sarah was topless, a provocative splash of red in the dim light, wearing a fishnet stocking and a minuscule g-string. And there it was, undeniable and overwhelming – my dick was hard as a rock, throbbing with a primal intensity.

“I’ve been a very naughty girl,” she purred, her voice laced with a dangerous sweetness. She began to climb the stairs, her movements slow and deliberate, each step drawing me closer. Instinct took over. I followed her, my legs pumping, adrenaline surging through my system. Reaching her, I caught her, pulling her close, hugging her from behind. The scent of her skin, mixed with the faint aroma of her perfume, intensified my desire. Without hesitation, I unzipped my slacks, pulling them down to reveal my hard cock. Pushing her head down onto the steps, I shoved it deep into her pussy, a brutal, immediate act of release. The pleasure was instant, explosive, and utterly consuming.

She was wet and ready, a vibrant red blooming in her cheeks. I abandoned any pretense of restraint, launching into a frenzied assault. On all fours, I began to fuck her, each thrust a desperate plea, a primal scream of longing. Grunts and moans filled the air, a chaotic symphony of pleasure and release. The pace quickened, becoming more frantic, more violent. Her moans grew louder, more insistent, as my hands moved over her body, spanking her ass and groping her bouncing tits. The world narrowed down to the feel of her skin, the scent of her sweat, the raw, untamed desire that consumed me.

The thrusting deepened, faster, more insistent. Her moans echoed through the apartment, a testament to her pleasure. I felt the pressure building, the anticipation reaching fever pitch. Finally, it came. A volcanic eruption of cum, a torrent of white hot pleasure that flooded her pussy and spilled onto my stomach. It was an overwhelming sensation, a release so intense that it left me breathless, gasping for air.

“Is that all you got?” she challenged, her voice husky with pleasure.

“What did you just say?” I replied, my voice strained.

“Is that all you got?” she repeated, pushing me back onto my heels.

With my cock still firmly planted, I lifted her from behind, carrying her over to the living room and dumping her onto the couch. I ripped off my tie, wrapping it around her wrists, a symbolic act of control. Then, spreading her legs open, I placed a cushion beneath her hips, preparing for another round. Climbing on top of her, I told her, “I’m going to plow your brains out.” And I did. I began sucking on her tits like a maniac, each suck a desperate attempt to prolong the moment, to savor every sensation. I tore off her g-string, spreading her legs open and placing my swollen cock between her pussy lips. I rubbed the outside of her pussy and clit with my fat rod up and down, a relentless assault that left her breathless and begging for more.

“Stop teasing me and fuck me,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible.

I sat down on the couch, picked her up, and shoved my meat right up her hole. As I plunged my face into her chest, I felt her riding my cock at full speed, a powerful, insistent force that pushed me to the brink of ecstasy. There was no escape, no resistance. I was drowning in pleasure, suffocating on her scent, lost in the depths of her arousal.

We continued to fuck and fuck, until her pussy exploded all over my cock and stomach. The release was so intense that it left me weak, trembling. I placed my hand over her mouth, silencing her moans as I pulled her close. The heat of her body against mine, the feel of her skin, the overwhelming sensation of pleasure…it was too much for her. She let out the loudest moan imaginable, a primal scream of pure delight, as she squirted. “Oh, my God!” she cried, her voice choked with emotion.

Being the extreme horn dog that I am, I wanted to push her even further. “It’s my turn,” I declared, anticipating her reaction.

She bounced up from my cock, her body tensed with anticipation, and began to run towards our bedroom once more.

I quickly got up and pulled her by the tie I had wrapped around her wrists, preventing her escape. “Where do you think you’re going?” I demanded, my voice laced with urgency. The words she spoke next sent a jolt of electricity through my veins.

“You’re right,” she replied, her voice a seductive whisper. “My pussy needs another pounding for being so naughty.”

I picked her up and carried her to our bedroom, where I threw her onto the bed. I climbed on top of her, kissing her passionately, deepening the connection. Then, I lifted her legs all the way up until they were touching the headboard, showcasing her flexibility and her willingness to submit. “If it’s a pounding you want,” I told her, “then it’s a pounding you’ll get.” I rammed her hole at full speed, continuing the relentless assault, feeling the heat of her body against mine, the rhythm of our movements becoming increasingly frantic. The sound of the headboard banging against the wall, the squeaking of the bed, the smell of her sweat and arousal, her moans and the feel of her tits – it was a symphony of pleasure, a testament to our shared desire.

But then, as I continued to thrust, I felt it. The moment of truth had arrived. The pressure was immense, the anticipation building to an unbearable crescendo. Finally, it happened. I let out the loudest grunt imaginable, a primal roar of release, and shot a load after load after load of my man sauce deep into her pussy. It was a monumental event, a volcanic eruption of pleasure that left me drained and exhilarated. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

“Is that all you got?” she challenged, her voice laced with amusement.

“What did you just say?” I retorted, my voice still shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure.

“Is that all you got?” she repeated, pushing me back onto my heels.

With my cock still firmly planted, I picked her up from behind, carrying her over to the living room and throwing her onto the couch. Then, I climbed back onto her, continuing the relentless assault. The world faded away as I lost myself in the depths of her arousal, feeling every inch of her body, savoring every sensation. The rain continued to fall outside, but inside, in the sanctuary of our shared passion, we had found our escape. It was a chaotic, messy, utterly perfect moment, a testament to the power of lust, desire, and the intoxicating pleasure of forbidden touch.

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