Secret Beneath the Couch

The scent of lavender and something musky, undeniably him, hung in the air as I settled onto the plush velvet of the couch, a reckless abandon in my posture. My dress, a barely-there slip of silk the color of bruised peaches, did little to conceal the curve of my hips and the generous swell of my backside. It was the look I often wore when anticipating his return, a deliberate invitation to the pleasure that awaited. Waiting for Greg felt like an eternity, especially when my phone vibrated with his insistent message.

He’d sent a link to a site overflowing with explicit descriptions of various sexual acts, a blatant display of his desires, and as I scrolled through the images, a familiar warmth spread through my core, a pre-climax shiver that intensified with each glimpse of the positions showcased. Then came the message, laced with a provocative edge: “I want you now, but please choose which one.” The wetness began to build, a delicious anticipation that demanded immediate release. Without hesitation, I typed back, “No. 3.” It wasn’t a conscious decision, more a surrender to the overwhelming urge, a silent affirmation of my submission.

The anticipation tightened its grip as minutes crawled by, each tick of the clock amplifying the heat gathering in my body. Then, another vibration, this time with a hurried, slightly breathless message: “Okay with me, but we don’t have precaution material. You get ready. I’ll stop at the drug store on the way home.” My breath caught in my throat. The lack of protection sent a jolt of nervous excitement through me, a thrilling edge to the impending pleasure. The thought of him being so blatant, so uninhibited, ignited a fire within me.

Panic set in, pushing me towards the bathroom. The water cascaded over me, a desperate attempt to cleanse myself, to prepare for the encounter. I scrubbed with vigor, focusing on the sensitive areas, desperate to feel clean, to feel in control, even as my body screamed for release. Once finished, I grabbed the bottle of extra-virgin olive oil, a luxurious lubricant that always heightened the experience, and began to lavishly apply it, coating my entire body, both inside and out. The slick, oily texture felt primal, a connection to something ancient and deeply satisfying.

Just as I finished, the rumble of his car announced his arrival. He strode into the bedroom, radiating confidence and an undeniable aura of dominance. "You chose the position, I brought the condoms, and you seem ready—good girl!" His voice was a low rumble, laced with possessiveness, and his presence filled the room with an electric charge. He swiftly shed his shirt, revealing a broad chest and the formidable size of his member. The sight of his swollen, hard cock sent a shiver down my spine, a potent mix of fear and desire.

“I want you badly,” he declared, his gaze lingering on my body, assessing every inch of my vulnerability. “I’m glad you chose the one you did. I’m going to make you enjoy every minute of it,” he uttered, his voice dripping with promise. My response was a mumbled plea, a desperate need for release, as I began to suck deeply on the massive appendage. The sheer size of it was overwhelming, forcing me to take only small, tentative bites, yet the sensation was exquisite, pushing me closer to the brink.

“Okay, let me slip one of these on, and we’ll start,” he said, deftly rolling a condom over his erect penis. The cool, slick material against my skin sent a fresh wave of anticipation through me. He then took hold of my waist, rotating me onto my stomach, positioning me perfectly for his pleasure. Before I could even register what was happening, his cock plunged into my rectum, a slow, deliberate penetration that sent shivers racing through my body.

Pain was the last thing on my mind. As he increased the pace, my insides began to tingle, my nerve endings going into a frenzy of pleasure. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, a release of pent-up desire that left me breathless. The condom, unable to contain his powerful thrusts, began to bulge, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body, igniting a fire within me. The pressure intensified, building to a crescendo, and then, finally, he exploded. A torrent of thick, viscous semen flooded my body, filling the front end of the condom, an overwhelming wave of pleasure that threatened to consume me. The scent was intoxicating, primal, and utterly captivating.

Once he had finished, he carefully removed the condom, letting the remnants of his seed drip down my swollen breasts, coating them in its rich, dark essence. Greg simply watched as I rubbed it all over my body, lost in the lingering sensations, savoring every moment. "You are lovely," he said, pulling me close and kissing me with a possessive tenderness. "Now that you’ve had what you wanted, dress up, and let’s go for lunch.” I quickly changed into his favorite red mini skirt, a panticless garment that showcased my curves in all their glory, discarding the condom, and we headed out the door, ready for the afternoon. The lingering heat, the intoxicating scent, and the memory of the intense pleasure made lunch the most enjoyable part of the day. The submission, the anticipation, the release - it was all worth it, knowing that he had given me exactly what I desired.

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