Muscle Relief & Morning After Bliss

The insistent throb in Melodie’s lower back had been a persistent complaint all day, a low-grade ache that threatened to derail our plans for the evening. As a seasoned provider, I always strive to alleviate my wife’s discomfort, so when she voiced her woes, my immediate instinct was to offer relief. A massage, coupled with our usual “quickie,” seemed like the perfect solution. It wasn’t strictly adhering to our schedule of alternating between a brief, quick encounter and a full, extended lovemaking session, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

We started with a thorough cleansing, focusing on the sensitive areas. I shaved my face, a ritual Melodie finds particularly arousing, and proceeded to the massage table in our master bedroom. Before she lay down, draped naked across the plush surface, I secured my supplemental oxygen cannula, a habit born from night sweats and vigorous exercise. Melodie, a vision in pale skin and sculpted curves, looked utterly captivating. The way she curled up, her body radiating heat, was undeniably alluring.

I began by applying warm, fragrant coconut oil, meticulously spreading it across her back, tracing the gentle curve of her spine to her shoulders and down her neck. Then, I gently settled onto her thighs, nestled between her sculpted buns, my manhood finding its comfortable position. With a deliberate rhythm, I massaged the supple skin of her back, neck, and shoulders, savoring the delicate tension I worked to release. Melodie made soft, contented moans, directing my attention to knots and pressure points. After nearly three decades together, I knew her body intimately, and my touch seemed to locate even the most stubborn areas of discomfort.

Moving to the side, I focused on her inner thighs, the proximity intensifying the sensation. A brush against her pubic hair sent a shiver through me, and I felt a subtle shift in her response, a hint of something more than just relief. This unexpected development was both intriguing and slightly alarming. Discreetly, I rubbed some melted coconut oil onto my own shaft and testicles, pumping my member a few times to ensure optimal lubrication. The warmth and slickness enhanced the pleasure of working through the knots in her legs, aided by the gentle pressure of my hand.

As she shifted onto her back, bathed in the soft glow of the bedroom lights, I caught a glimpse of her beautiful face, framed by her striking Scandinavian features and full breasts. It was a welcome distraction, though I didn't immediately succumb to the temptation to explore her assets. Instead, I lifted her right arm and held it against my bare chest and stomach, rubbing her skin with the fragrant oil, extending from her shoulder down to her fingertips. Then, mirroring the action, I shifted to the other side of the table and repeated the process for her left arm. Observing her body, her graceful curves and those captivating half-spheres, only intensified my desire. Melodie emitted small moans and sighs, occasionally directing my attention to areas that needed more focused attention.

During the massage, Melodie’s breathing grew deeper and more pronounced, accompanied by subtle shifts in her posture that indicated growing arousal. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath, and her skin seemed to shimmer with anticipation. As I worked my way down her legs, a near-accidental brush against her intimate area sent a jolt through me. Something in her reaction, a blend of pleasure and vulnerability, signaled that this might transcend our scheduled quickie.

I obliged her unspoken request, applying a generous dollop of melted coconut oil to her breasts. Using both hands in a circular motion, I ascended my fingers to the delicate peak of her right boob, savoring the sensation. She protested softly, but her tone lacked conviction, as she allowed me to continue the loving treatment to her other breast, and its corresponding raspberry peak.

Leaning over, I delivered a deep, passionate kiss, followed by a quick, stimulating suck of each raspberry. Melodie responded with a soft sigh, and I scooped up a large clump of unmelted coconut oil, using it to gently caress her labia and the soft, downy hair surrounding them. The oil, warmed by her body heat, melted further, creating a luxurious sensation. Concentrating on her clitoris, I massaged the sensitive area with my fingertips while simultaneously working on her breasts.

As if summoned by my actions, Melodie retrieved her looped handle vibrator, the loop providing a secure grip in the slick environment. Her own juices began to flow freely, and I noticed the vibrant colors staining her skin, a testament to the escalating intensity of our encounter.

Maintaining my position beside the table, I continued to stimulate her clitoris, while simultaneously applying gentle internal pressure and stroking her vagina. Melodie’s breathing grew ragged, and the rhythmic pulsations of her orgasm became more pronounced. Feeling the shift in momentum, I shifted my focus to my own pleasure, leaning closer to the table and engaging in “tip on nip” against her right nipple.

“You’re really big,” she whispered, her voice thick with arousal. This meant I was hard and ready for intercourse.

“You know the rule,” she replied, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “When you can, you do!” It was a rule born from health complications that made extended periods of restraint challenging.

Melodie widened her legs, creating a space for me to mount her. She pulled her legs up by her knees, positioning herself for optimal pleasure. As I descended, my rigid member found its way into her welcoming and loving pussy. I began thrusting slowly, leaning in to take turns sucking and flicking her nipples, mirroring her own movements. Melodie, in turn, cupped her breasts, pushing them upwards as an offering, and flexing her muscles to enhance the sensation.

My speed increased, and I found myself completely immersed in the pleasure of the moment. Her Kegel muscles worked tirelessly, creating a deep, satisfying sensation that resonated throughout my body. Witnessing her captivating beauty and experiencing the raw power of her orgasm was a truly unforgettable experience.

“That feels really good!” she exclaimed, her voice barely audible over the rising crescendo of pleasure.

As I continued to stroke my erection, keeping my tip rubbing against her nipple, she directed me to intensify my efforts. Her words, whispered against my skin, further fueled my desire. The rhythmic vibrations of her orgasm intensified, and the world around us seemed to fade away.

Reaching a fever pitch, Melodie arched her back, her body rigid with pleasure. Her breasts swelled visibly, and a wave of heat washed over me. I felt a surge of energy, and the thought of taking things further became overwhelming.

“Are you coming?” I asked, my voice hoarse with anticipation.

“Yes…!” she gasped out, her voice barely a whisper. The waves of ecstasy continued to crash over her, leaving no trace of fatigue. As she climaxed, her body convulsed in pure bliss, her features transformed into an expression of unadulterated pleasure. It was as if time stood still, and we existed only within the confines of our shared desire.

I continued to stroke my erection, savoring the feeling of my hard member penetrating the depths of her love tunnel. At one point, I paused, taking a deep breath and assessing the situation. I could easily continue to stimulate her, allowing her to reach another peak, but something told me that this moment, this shared experience, was worth preserving. I decided to hold back, waiting for her to return to a more manageable state.

As she slowly regained her composure, she began to moan softly, her body still radiating heat. I noticed the vibrant colors of her skin, a testament to her passionate release. I reached for the microfiber cloths we use during massages, gently cleaning her up and removing any lingering traces of oil. Melodie smiled, a genuine expression of pleasure that filled my heart. We shared a final kiss, a silent acknowledgment of the incredible experience we had just shared.

Later, as I turned off the supplemental oxygen concentrator, I reflected on the events of the day. The initial frustration of my COPD condition quickly faded as I realized the true value of what we had shared. It wasn't just a quickie; it was a complete and utter surrender to pleasure, a testament to the enduring power of our connection. And as I drifted off to sleep, I knew that this encounter would linger long in my memory, a reminder of the exquisite joy of love and intimacy.

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