Thirty Years Still Burning

The rain hammered against the windows of our bedroom, a relentless rhythm mirroring the insistent thrumming beneath my skin. It had been thirty years since we’d married, thirty years of a fire that never truly dimmed, a slow, smoldering heat that still burned with an undeniable intensity. Last Tuesday, after a long evening spent lost in the twisted fantasies of “Marriage Heat,” I’d drifted off to sleep, the memory of a particularly steamy story clinging to me like a second skin. My husband, Mark, a man whose love for me had only deepened with time, stirred beside me, his hand reaching for mine. "What were you reading?" he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

“Just a little something from Marriage Heat,” I replied, a blush rising to my cheeks. “Blondie’s ‘Cowgirl Style.’ It’s still hot, you know.” He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, and pulled me closer. "It always was," he said, kissing my temple before tracing the curve of my jawline with his fingertips. "No wonder it turned you on." As he worked his way down my neck, my lady parts grew wetter and wetter, and I realized I hadn't even bothered to put on my knickers. A delicious shiver ran through me.

Flashbacks flooded my mind, vibrant images of our younger days, a whirlwind of weddings and honeymoon adventures. We were so young, so reckless, so utterly consumed by the intoxicating pleasure of newlywed bliss. I remembered our hotel room in Hawaii, the heat of the tropical air clinging to my skin, the soft white of my see-through gown clinging to my body. Mark, barely dressed in just his boxers, had crept up behind me, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through my veins. He'd caressed my body through the thin fabric, his hands tracing the curve of my hips, the swell of my breasts. It felt exquisite, forbidden, and utterly irresistible. I’d arched my back, inviting his touch, my own hands reaching out to reciprocate, running over the back of his head and neck, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

“Do you remember that night?” Mark asked, his voice a husky whisper. “The way you looked, so innocent, so vulnerable, yet so undeniably sexy?” I closed my eyes, savoring the memory. “And I showed my acceptance by caressing the back of your head and neck, as well as your back, when you kissed me everywhere. First you ran your hands across the area below my breasts, then kissed me there. Then you moved up to my collar bone and neck, as you felt my breasts.” He chuckled again, pulling me closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Then, I kissed your sweet lips just like this…” He gently planted a wet, insistent kiss on my lips, the taste of desire lingering on my tongue. It felt right, primal, utterly perfect. We drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared passion.

The next morning, the rain had subsided, leaving a glistening sheen on the windows. We awoke, refreshed and invigorated, ready to face the day, but the memory of the night before lingered, a warm ember in our hearts. We reminisced as we French kissed, the familiar comfort of our bodies intertwined. Mark lifted my little nightdress over my head, revealing my pale skin and the delicate curve of my chest. He cupped my face with both hands, caressing me as he ran his hands over my body, kissing my chest and cleavage area, feeling the rise and fall of my breasts. The cool air around us seemed to amplify the heat within me, and my nipples tingled with anticipation.

“Do you remember when we were young, newly married and on our honeymoon, you were wearing your beautiful, little white see-through gown?” Mark asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You lay on our hotel bed, looking so beautiful and sexy. I was only wearing my boxers, and I couldn’t resist coming over to you, to caress your body through the thin, frilly material?” “And I showed my acceptance by caressing the back of your head and neck, as well as your back, when you kissed me everywhere,” I responded, my voice barely a whisper. “Then, I kissed your sweet lips just like this…” He gently planted a wet kiss on my lips, deepening the connection between us. I felt a wave of heat wash over me, my lady parts growing wetter and wetter.

He pushed deeper, his movements becoming more frantic, more urgent. I moaned softly, lost in the throes of pleasure, clinging to him with all my might. “You will never fail to turn me on! Your styles may have changed over the years, but your sexiness sure hasn’t!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with admiration. “And you’re so hot as well. When I look at you, I can’t help but get wet! That will never change.” He showered me with erotic wet kisses, tracing the contours of my face and neck, his touch sending shivers down my spine. He thrust even harder, the rhythm of his movements mirroring the frantic beat of my heart.

We continued like this for what felt like an eternity, lost in a world of pure, unadulterated pleasure. The sweat gathered on my skin, clinging to my body like a second layer of clothing. The heat intensified, radiating from within me, making me feel both vulnerable and powerful. As we reached the peak of our pleasure, a wave of ecstasy washed over me, overwhelming my senses. I let out a primal cry, a release of all the pent-up desire that had been building within me.

“You will never fail to turn me on!” he said, his voice hoarse with pleasure. “Your styles may have changed over the years, but your sexiness sure hasn’t!” "And you’re so hot as well. When I look at you, I can’t help but get wet! That will never change.” My husband showered erotic wet kisses all over my face and neck as he thrust even harder! We remembered how we’d hold each other tight during lovemaking when we were young. That is exactly how we did it that night (and other nights)! We sure were sweaty that night in Hawaii, haha! But that night wasHOT, and the sweat made it all the sexier for us! Our Nordic nights were beautiful! And tonight was no different as I embraced my husband while he did the same to me as we kissed and caressed one another.

Then, I felt this huge, not to mention powerful orgasmic rush, as I let out my ecstatic cries. I continued to embrace my husband while he embraced me, and sure enough felt his moment of great pleasure! It sure was exhausting! But we were very satisfied when we came down. I turned to see my husband lying beside me, covers covering him from the shoulders down, and the way he looked… My goodness!

He caressed my cheek and said, “I may be colorblind, but that doesn’t stop me from fully seeing how beautiful you are.” At that, I just had to kiss him! I kissed his cheek twice as he wrapped his arms around me and laid his hands on my back. We fell asleep in each other’s arms, enjoying the touch and smell of one another, and woke up in the morning still entwined. The rain had stopped, and the sun streamed through the windows, illuminating the room in a golden glow. We shared a quiet smile, a silent acknowledgment of the enduring power of our love, a love that had weathered the storms of time and emerged stronger, more passionate, and more beautiful than ever before.

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Thirty Years Still Burning

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