Moonlit Skin: The Final Touch

The rain hammered against the windows of the sprawling suburban house, mirroring the frantic beat of my heart. It had been a long, wet afternoon, culminating in a reckless plunge into the pool, a desperate attempt to shake off the lingering tension of the day. Now, wrapped in oversized towels, I found myself drawn back to my wife, Sarah, a slow burn of desire igniting within me as I took in her beauty. The pale moonlight, fractured by the rain-streaked glass, cast long shadows across her skin, highlighting the curve of her hips and the delicate slope of her shoulders. It was an invitation, a silent plea for something more.

“Let’s get out of these things,” she murmured, her voice husky with the memory of our shared passion. She reached for my hand, her touch sending a jolt through my body, and led me through the cool, polished hallways towards the laundry room. The scent of chlorine still clung to the air, mingling with the fresh, clean smell of the linens we had just discarded. I paused, relishing the sight of her, her body still glistening with moisture, a tangible reminder of the night’s abandon. It felt like a private moment, a stolen glance in a world that often felt too busy to notice such simple pleasures.

“You look incredible,” I whispered, my voice thick with desire. She simply smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes, and continued forward, her bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. We moved through the kitchen, the dining room, and finally into the living room, where the dimness of the evening created an atmosphere of intimacy. The furniture, plush and expensive, seemed to press in around us, amplifying the sense of seclusion. As we stepped into the den, Sarah took a seat in my high-backed executive chair, sliding forward until her legs were stretched out before me, a blatant display of invitation. The leather was supple under her touch, molding to the curve of her body as she settled in, her gaze locking onto mine. The chair itself felt like a throne, a place of power and dominance, and I was eager to claim my rightful place beside her.

She shifted slightly, adjusting her position, and then, with a deliberate grace that both thrilled and intimidated me, she spread her legs wide, revealing the pale pink flesh of her vulva. The soft folds and delicate ridges beckoned me closer, whispering promises of pleasure. It was an invitation I couldn’t resist. I knelt down, crawling forward until her creamy, wet opening was mere centimeters from my lips. The scent was intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and musk that sent shivers down my spine. I hesitated for a moment, savoring the anticipation, before plunging my tongue into her depths.

The initial contact was tentative, a gentle exploration of her sensitive tissues. Then, as she responded with a subtle arch of her back, I increased the pressure, my lips becoming more insistent, more demanding. She moaned softly, her hand reaching out to caress my hair, pulling me closer, deepening the connection between us. I continued to lap at her clitoris, feeling her body tremble with pleasure, her breath growing shallow and rapid. Every touch, every lick, every thrust was deliberate, a calculated assault on her senses, designed to bring her to the brink.

Her muscles tensed, her thighs beginning to shake uncontrollably. She gripped the armrests of the chair, her knuckles white, a clear sign of the escalating pleasure. I could feel her heat radiating against my face, the scent of her arousal filling my nostrils. As she began to build momentum, her breathing became labored, her body arching further back in response to my ministrations. It wasn't long before she let loose, a torrent of warm, white fluid erupting from her depths. Her orgasm was explosive, a wave of pure sensation that washed over me, leaving me breathless and spent.

She slumped back against the chair, her eyes closed, her body still trembling slightly. The remnants of her pleasure lingered in the air, a testament to the intensity of our encounter. I gently stroked her hair, my fingers tracing the delicate curve of her neck, before pulling back to meet her gaze. Her eyes fluttered open, a mischievous glint in their depths. "How do you want me?" she asked, her voice husky with desire.

“On the stairs,” I replied, my voice low and confident. I rose from my knees, offering my hand to help her to her feet. Her legs were still a little wobbly, but she leaned into my support, her body heavy in my arms. As she moved through the house, she glided through the rooms, her steps soft and silent, each movement deliberate and purposeful. She knew exactly where she wanted to go, and she wasn’t afraid to show it.

Finally, we reached the staircase, its dark wood polished to a gleaming sheen. Sarah paused at the top of the steps, her silhouette filling the doorway, an invitation to follow her. She began to descend, her body moving with a sensual grace that was both captivating and unsettling. As she reached the bottom step, she turned to face me, her gaze locking onto mine. She leaned in close, her breath mingling with my own, and whispered, "You smell incredible." The scent of her arousal still clung to her skin, a potent reminder of our recent encounter.

She gracefully pivoted, her body sliding onto her knees at the foot of the stairs, her legs spread wide, inviting me to continue where we left off. I followed without hesitation, kneeling down beside her, positioning myself to take her from behind. The cool air of the stairs met her warm body, creating a delicious contrast. She reached between her legs, her fingers finding my throbbing cock, and guided it into her still-wanting pussy. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and anticipation.

As I began to stroke her, her body responded immediately, her muscles tensing, her breath quickening. I felt her pleasure as intensely as my own, our bodies moving together in a synchronized dance of desire. She pulled me closer, her arms wrapping around my waist, her body pressed against mine, creating a sense of unity and intimacy. She began to rock back and forth, her hips swaying rhythmically, her body arching upwards as she leaned into my embrace. The dim light cast long shadows across her form, highlighting the curves of her body, making her appear even more alluring.

"Oh, baby," she whimpered, her voice choked with pleasure, "Fuck me." The words were a plea, a command, and I couldn't help but obey. I thrust my cock deeper into her, feeling her body shudder with each thrust, her muscles straining against my grip. The heat intensified, spreading through her body like wildfire, igniting every nerve ending. As she reached the peak of her arousal, she let out a primal scream, a release of pent-up energy that left us both breathless.

She continued to rock back and forth, her body writhing in ecstasy, her orgasm lasting for what felt like an eternity. I continued to thrust, pushing my limits, determined to prolong the pleasure. The sensation was overwhelming, a symphony of sensations that left me completely lost in the moment. As she finally subsided, her body limp and relaxed, I felt a sense of profound satisfaction.

Suddenly, she stopped, her eyes wide with a new suggestion. "I want to see you shoot your load all over me," she commanded, her voice firm and decisive. She quickly turned her body to face me, her legs spread wide, exposing her still-sensitive clitoris. I seized my opportunity, lifting my cock high above her, and began to masturbate, showering her with my own seed. The warm, white fluid flowed freely, coating her body in a layer of lustful pleasure.

As she watched, her eyes filled with an intense desire. She reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me closer, her fingers digging into my flesh. We continued our frantic dance of pleasure, lost in the intoxicating heat of the moment. Finally, overcome by the sheer intensity of the experience, she climaxed again, her body convulsing in a final, desperate spasm. We collapsed on the steps, exhausted but exhilarated, our bodies intertwined, our hearts beating in unison. As the rain continued to fall outside, we lay there, lost in the aftermath of our shared pleasure, knowing that this was just the beginning of our endless nights of passion.

Did you like this story? Moonlit Skin: The Final Touch look, but like these, here Story taboo sex.