Shoulder Blades & Silent Screams

The rain hammered against the windows of my office, mirroring the relentless pressure building inside me. It had been a brutal month since I’d last tasted the sweet surrender of Alia’s touch, a month crammed with impossible deadlines and simmering anxieties. We were both stretched thin, each battling our own demons, and the silence between us had grown thick and suffocating, a breeding ground for unspoken desires and mounting frustration. But Alia, always perceptive, had recognized the need for a potent antidote, a way to break through the tension that threatened to consume us both.

The call came late in the afternoon, her voice laced with a desperate urgency that cut through the noise of my day. “Come home,” she’d said, her breath catching in her throat. “I need you.” It wasn’t a request; it was an imperative. Without hesitation, I grabbed my coat and headed for the door, a primal instinct pulling me toward the sanctuary of her presence.

As I pulled into the driveway, the scent of jasmine, her signature fragrance, hit me like a wave, instantly transporting me back to happier times. The house felt strangely empty, the absence of her warmth a tangible ache in my chest. I found her in the living room, meticulously folding laundry, her movements efficient and controlled, yet betraying the strain in her shoulders.

“Let’s see this shoulder,” I said, my voice low and laced with a touch of anticipation. She didn’t respond immediately, her gaze fixed on the pile of clothes before her. Then, with a subtle, almost defiant movement, she reached down and pulled her silk sari slightly off her shoulder, exposing the pale skin beneath. The apple scent intensified, a potent blend of vanilla and honey that sent a shiver down my spine. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath, a tantalizing glimpse of the pleasure that awaited. And as I looked over her shoulder, my own body responded involuntarily, my arousal building with an insistent heat. The curve of her hips, accentuated by the loose fabric, drew my attention, her arse growing ever closer to my burgeoning desire.

I gently placed my fingertips against her shoulder, feeling the tautness of the muscles beneath the skin. Her body tensed, and she slowly, deliberately, began to back away, her weight shifting to lean against my leg, her ample buttocks pressing firmly against my thighs. The proximity was electrifying, a silent invitation that ignited a fire within me. As we moved together, a slow, rhythmic dance of touch and sensation, my erection swelled, pushing against my pants, a tangible representation of the overwhelming pleasure that threatened to consume me.

“Wait,” she whispered, her voice husky with a mixture of pain and anticipation. Her hand, cool and smooth, rested lightly on my crotch, and she pressed down, a deliberate invitation to abandon restraint. “Do you want to send this little boy home?” The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken longing. The words were a spark, igniting a torrent of desire that surged through my veins.

“Yes,” I breathed, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. My hand instinctively moved lower, responding to her touch with an almost violent urgency. With a swift, decisive movement, she dropped her sari and the underskirt that lay beneath, revealing the pale expanse of her skin. She leaned further into me, her body a perfect curve of muscle and bone, and her scent enveloped me in a cloud of intoxicating sweetness.

“Come, send the head right in,” she commanded, her voice a silken whisper. “Keep pressing my shoulder. Maybe your cock can distract me from the pain.” As I thrust deeper, my body locked in a desperate embrace, the world around us fading into insignificance. Her moans, soft and desperate, filled the room, a soundtrack to the escalating pleasure that ripped through me. I poured every ounce of my desire into the act, pushing her further and further, until both of us were gasping for air.

Just as my pace began to accelerate, the phone rang, shattering the intimacy of the moment. “Wait,” she said, pulling away slightly. “I’ll answer it.” With a casual grace, she turned towards the phone, her movements fluid and effortless. “It’s Lavina,” she announced, her voice still tinged with a hint of arousal. I instinctively braced myself, trying to maintain control as she spoke to her friend, her hand gripping my cock firmly, keeping it locked in place.

The conversation unfolded in a low murmur, punctuated by occasional gasps and sighs. I could feel her body tensing with each word, her pleasure building with every breath. As she spoke, she squeezed down on my cock, applying just enough pressure to maintain my focus, her touch a constant reminder of the intense pleasure she offered.

“What’s going on?” Lavina’s voice broke through the tension, laced with a hint of concern. “You seem distracted.” “Just massaging my shoulder,” Alia replied, her voice muffled but clear. “I may go see the doctor later today.” “I’ll be done around the house at 2; I can take you then,” she offered, her tone suggesting an eagerness to resume the interrupted pleasure. “I should be feeling better by then,” she continued, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I’ve found an ointment that works well, but you have to apply it generously and rub it in!” She leaned over her shoulder, her gaze lingering on me for a moment before she quickly finished the conversation, hanging up the phone with a decisive click.

Without a word, she pulled me down onto the floor, her body pressing against mine, a perfect fit. We remained locked together, clinging to each other in a silent communion of pleasure and desire. The rain continued to lash against the windows, but inside, the storm within us had subsided, replaced by an overwhelming sense of fulfillment.

Taking my lovely wife while she conversed with her friend was probably the most exhilarating, erotic situation I’ve ever experienced, and I will never ever forget it! The memory of her scent, her touch, her voice – it all remains etched in my mind, a constant reminder of the intense pleasure we shared. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated passion, a testament to the power of love and desire, and a welcome escape from the pressures and anxieties of the outside world. The experience left me feeling utterly spent, yet strangely invigorated, a potent blend of exhaustion and euphoria. As I lay there, tangled in her embrace, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a thrilling adventure filled with endless possibilities. The rain continued to fall, washing away the remnants of the storm, but the warmth of her body remained, a beacon of comfort and pleasure in the darkness.

Did you like this story? Shoulder Blades & Silent Screams look, but like these, here Story taboo sex.