Skin Hunger: A Spring Morning Ride

The spring Saturday morning sun streamed through the sheer bedroom curtains, painting stripes of light across the plush white bedding. Amy’s head rested against my thigh, her body relaxed and yielding as she finished a particularly enthusiastic blowjob, her tongue a playful tease against my cock, pulling back gently, then pressing forward with increasing intensity. My entire body thrummed with a delicious tension, a perfect balance of arousal and release. Before her performance, she had unleashed a torrent of pleasure upon me, leaving me breathless and aching. Knowing I often struggled to maintain hardness for her extended sessions, she took matters into her own hands, expertly maneuvering her body to bring me to the brink of ecstasy.

Looking down at her, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of admiration. She was a force of nature, a beautiful contradiction – a preacher’s kid with a wild streak, a woman of grace and sensuality who refused to be confined by societal expectations. The memory of her taunting me about our age, our shared history of close encounters, flickered through my mind. It had always been a playful challenge, a silent acknowledgment of the potent chemistry between us.

As she pulled my erect member from her mouth, her lips stretched into a sweet, knowing smile. Her fingers continued to dance along my shaft, teasing and caressing, while her hands gently brushed against my torso as she shifted beside me, settling into a comfortable position. There was a certain unspoken desire hanging in the air, a yearning for connection that transcended mere physical pleasure. I desperately wanted to break through the wall of restraint that often separated us, to delve deeper into the depths of our shared intimacy.

“You know what I’d like?” I asked, my voice a low rumble.

“What, besides what you just got?” Amy replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she kissed me, the lingering taste of my juices still clinging to her lips and tongue.

“I’d like to take you with me when I’m away for a couple of days, for a business meeting in Dallas,” I said, letting the proposition hang in the air. “It’s a long trip, and frankly, the hotel rooms are usually sterile and impersonal. I’d love to have the comfort and familiarity of having you by my side.”

“That’s usually not a whole lot of fun for me, stuck in a hotel,” she said, her voice laced with playful exasperation. “We’ve tried that before, but you know I miss you terribly when you’re gone.” She tugged lightly on my penis, a silent reminder of her desires. “Just kidding,” she said, her lips curving into a wicked grin. “You know I can’t stand it when you’re away, even for a couple of days.”

“Well, neither can I, and that’s not what I meant,” I insisted, gently guiding her closer. “I would really love to have some pictures of you to take with me, to remind me of you when I’m feeling lonely or distant. I think about you constantly, even when I’m trying to concentrate on work. My mind races with images of you, your curves, your scent, your touch.” I paused, letting the words sink in. “And sometimes, those thoughts become overwhelming, consuming my every waking moment.”

We had both become more open about our sexual explorations over the years, a welcome change from the rigid confines of our previous relationship. It had taken a significant weight off our marriage, allowing us to embrace our desires without shame or reservation. Amy still struggled to reach orgasm as consistently as I did, but she always made an effort, pushing herself to the brink of pleasure whenever possible. She knew I appreciated her efforts, and I made sure to express my gratitude in no uncertain terms. Showering together, sharing intimate moments, and engaging in passionate encounters had become an integral part of our daily routine.

She rolled her eyes, a playful gesture that only intensified my desire. “I know you don’t,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “As a matter of fact, when I think of you doing it, thinking of me, it kind of gets me going, too.”

“Well, if I had you to look at, even if I couldn’t touch you, it would still be a lot better than being completely alone,” I said, my voice thick with longing. “A lot of guys tune into those adult-movie channels on hotel TVs, but I’d rather have the Amy Channel at my fingertips – so to speak,” I grinned, giving her a squeeze.

Amy considered my words, her expression thoughtful. “What if the pictures ended up where they weren’t supposed to be?” she asked, her brow furrowed slightly. “If they were on your notebook, I could see them accidentally getting attached to an e-mail, or sent over a network, or something. And if they were hard copies, in an album or whatever, I’m afraid it would get left somewhere. You do leave things behind on occasion, you know.”

I pondered her concern, realizing the potential risks involved. “We could put them on an encrypted thumb drive – one of those keychain things,” I suggested, offering a solution. “That way, if someone picked it up, they wouldn’t be able to get at the pictures. I could just plug you in, start the show, and take the drive out of the notebook when I was done. Or I could get one of those digital photo viewers, if I didn’t want to put them on the computer. That would be easier to handle, anyway,” I said with a confident smile.

“I could live with that,” Amy replied, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Just as long as they stay our little secret.”

We had both been experimenting with photography, taking pictures of each other on vacation, but this was the first time we’d truly explored the potential of capturing our intimacy. I had recently acquired a high-quality camera, and Amy had been eager to learn the basics of photography, so we had been practicing together, honing our skills and developing our artistic eye.

“Well, how are we going to do it?” Amy asked, her voice brimming with anticipation. “Never one to hesitate much about anything, she was on board.”

“Why don’t you find some things you’d like to pose in – lingerie, whatever — and get them ready. The bedroom’s already got a lot of good natural light. Maybe we can pick out some sheets or fabric to drape around and use as backgrounds, if we need to,” I suggested, outlining our plan.

“And I’ll need to start thinking about makeup, and jewelry, and what I want to do and how I want to pose,” Amy replied, already lost in the details of the upcoming photo session. “What would you like to see, when you’re sitting in your hotel room?”

“Just the real you,” I said, cupping her soft face in my hands and kissing her gently. “I don’t want anything between us – I want to be able to really connect with you through what you show me.”

“Well, the show is getting ready to go on the road,” she said, pulling away slightly and turning to face me. “When do you want to do this?”

“How about tomorrow afternoon, after church?” I suggested, knowing that the late afternoon light would be perfect for capturing the essence of our intimacy. “It’s still supposed to be sunny – the light should be fine in here. Is that too soon for you to get ready?”

“Not at all,” she replied, her voice filled with excitement. “In fact, I’m kind of looking forward to it.”

Needless to say, we didn’t give our full attention to the church service the next morning, in anticipation of our afternoon photo session. The air crackled with unspoken desires, and the scent of her perfume hung heavy in the air. As we prepared for our adventure, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of exhilaration, a thrill at the prospect of capturing our passion on film. We got home, enjoyed a light lunch, and took a leisurely shower together, the water cascading over our bodies, washing away the remnants of our morning routine. She began applying her makeup, expertly blending colors to enhance her natural beauty. “Do you want me to put anything on?” I asked, leaning over to peer at her reflection.

“Just some music,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at me. “I think looking at you will inspire me.”

I found a sensual reggae compilation on the CD player in the bedroom, and the rhythm filled the room with an intoxicating energy. I set up my camera on a tripod, adjusting the settings to ensure the perfect exposure. Amy chose a few pieces of lingerie, selecting a delicate lace negligee and a pair of sheer stockings. She donned a simple gold necklace and a pair of sparkling earrings, completing her look. We laid out the chosen garments on the loveseat, ready to begin our artistic endeavor.

“Well, here I am,” Amy said, stepping into the light and striking a pose. “You certainly are,” I said, turning to take in the sight of the most beautiful woman in the world. Her hair was styled in loose waves, framing her face perfectly. She wore a light body lotion, giving her skin a healthy glow. Her makeup enhanced her natural beauty, bringing out her vibrant green eyes and her captivating smile. She had trimmed her curly bush to a soft triangle, a playful touch that emphasized her curves. I could almost feel the heat radiating from her body, imagining running my fingers through her hair.

“Let me see what you’ve got,” I said, capturing her in a series of stunning images. She moved gracefully through the poses, each one more captivating than the last. She wore a sheer black gown, split up the front to the bodice, paired with a black thong. She moved in front of the window, posing for a sensual shot. She put on a funky macrame-type ankle bracelet, and pulled her knee up under her chin, swiveling her shoulders slightly. Her foot tapered sensuously as she leaned over. I took several shots, adjusting the lighting and focusing on her every move.

“Let me try some of the lingerie,” she said, pulling off the gown and revealing a pair of high-waisted denim shorts and a lace bralette. She perched on the edge of the bed, her legs slightly parted, her hands resting on her knees. She leaned forward, her gaze locked on mine, inviting me to continue the exploration. I captured her in a series of close-up shots, highlighting her curves and her passionate expression. She then slipped out of the denim shorts and bralette, revealing a pair of lacy black panties and a matching teddy. She posed seductively, her body arched, her hips swaying gently. Her movements were fluid and graceful, captivating my senses.

“Put that on, and then let’s go for it,” she said, pulling a silky red kimono over her head. She slipped her foot into a pair of tiny, shimmering silver stilettos. “Do you want me to put anything on?” I asked as I stood with towel in hand.

“Just some music,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at me. “I think looking at you will inspire me.”

I found a sexy reggae compilation and put it on the CD player in the bedroom, then got the camera ready. I was going to try to hand-hold most of the shots, but I set up a tripod just in case. Amy had the things she wanted to pose in laid out on the loveseat. I also lit some candles to supplement the natural light, and create a romantic mood.

“Well, here I am,” Amy said as she walked in the door behind me. “You certainly are,” I said as I turned to drink in the sight of the most beautiful woman in the world. Her hair was trimmed short, and kind of spiky — a young, cute look that yet didn’t look too young on her. She had smoothed on a light body lotion, giving her whole body a gentle sheen, perfect in the candlelight. She had done her nails last week, and her makeup was light but brought out her sparkling green eyes and her amazing smile. And she had trimmed her curly bush to a soft triangle — not a severe cut, just enough to shape it; I could imagine running my fingers through it, so soft between her legs…

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Skin Hunger: A Spring Morning Ride

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