Three Weeks Without Your Touch

The scent of his cologne, a sharp, musky blend of sandalwood and leather, clung to the air as I stepped off the plane, a desperate need to reach him already consuming me. Three weeks. Three agonizing weeks away from the man who held my very being captive. The mission was brutal, pushing me to my limits, but the thought of John, his touch, his voice, kept me going. I’d pleaded with him to come with me, desperate for his presence, but he’d stubbornly refused, citing work commitments. Yet, he’d left a trail of tantalizing clues, a promise whispered over Skype before I left, a guarantee that we’d find a way to reconnect.

As soon as I secured my luggage, I hailed a cab, my mind racing with anticipation. The drive to the hotel felt like an eternity, each passing block drawing me closer to the man I craved. I checked in, the sterile environment doing little to soothe my restlessness, and hurried to my room, eager to unravel the mystery John had presented.

My hands trembled slightly as I reached into the suitcase, pulling out a small, velvet-lined box. Inside, nestled amongst the satin, was a high-tech vibrator, sleek and black, pulsing with a silent promise. Alongside it lay a collection of exquisitely crafted, lace lingerie, the color of deep crimson, and a small bottle of silky lubricant. A playful smirk spread across my lips – John had outdone himself.

As instructed, I donned the lingerie, the delicate fabric clinging to my skin, amplifying every curve and contour. The crotchless design felt daring, a silent invitation for exploration. The moment I stepped back into the room, John was waiting, stripped to his waist, a dark, powerful physique rippling beneath the soft light. My breath caught in my throat, my senses overwhelmed by his sheer presence. He moved closer, a slow, deliberate advance that ignited a fire within me, a desperate longing for his touch.

He took my hand, his fingers tracing the delicate lace of the underwear, sending shivers down my spine. His grip tightened, pulling me closer until I was practically pressed against him. The heat radiating from his body was intoxicating, a primal force that demanded immediate release. He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear, whispering, "You’re looking particularly exquisite tonight."

His voice, husky and low, sent a jolt of electricity through my veins. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto mine, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. A slow, deliberate kiss followed, his lips demanding and insistent, melting away my inhibitions. The taste of his mouth, a blend of spice and desire, was addictive.

As we continued to explore each other, fueled by anticipation and lust, the need to satisfy my hunger grew more intense. I moved my hand down his body, tracing the contours of his semi-hard cock, feeling the heat radiating from it. It was an exquisite torture, knowing that the pleasure I craved was just beyond my grasp.

Suddenly, he shifted, pulling me onto my back, his body molding perfectly to mine. His hands found their way to my breasts, gripping them tightly, pulling me closer still. The sensation was exquisite, a slow, deliberate tease that heightened my arousal to the point of agony. He began kissing my neck and sucking my nipples, his tongue a fiery torment, sending shivers down my spine. The scent of his sweat mingled with the intoxicating aroma of the lingerie, creating a heady blend that overwhelmed my senses.

As he continued his assault, my body began to tremble uncontrollably. I let out a moan, a desperate plea for release, and my hand instinctively moved to his cock, feeling its hardness, its power. He responded with a forceful thrust, piercing my flesh with a sharp, insistent pain. It was an exquisite pain, a testament to his dominance, a confirmation of his power.

The pleasure overwhelmed me, washing away all inhibitions and leaving me gasping for breath. I arched my back, surrendering completely to the sensation, lost in the depths of my own desire. He continued to penetrate me with relentless force, pushing me further and further into the brink of ecstasy. My muscles clenched, my heart pounded in my chest, and I cried out in pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Finally, I reached the peak, letting out a primal scream that echoed through the room. He paused, his body convulsing in response to my release. As the waves of pleasure subsided, I turned to face him, my body drenched in sweat, my eyes glazed over with ecstasy. I kissed his chest, then quickly jumped out of bed, grabbing my bag and hurrying out the door. I had a plane to catch, but more importantly, I had a special package to open.

The airport was bustling with activity, but I barely noticed. My mind was consumed by the anticipation of seeing John, of feeling his touch once more. As I boarded the plane, I couldn’t help but smile, knowing that the wait was almost over.

Upon arrival, I quickly hailed a taxi and made my way to the hotel. The journey felt agonizingly slow, each passing minute stretching into an eternity. When I finally reached my room, my heart pounded in my chest, my senses heightened, my body tingling with anticipation.

I called John immediately, my voice trembling slightly with excitement. He answered on the first ring, his voice a familiar comfort in the midst of my mounting desire. He congratulated me on my arrival, and we quickly dove into the conversation, discussing my day and expressing our mutual longing.

As we spoke, he made a suggestion that sent a jolt of electricity through me. “You know,” he said, his voice laced with a playful challenge, “I’ve been thinking about that special package you left for me. It’s time we opened it.”

I eagerly agreed, rushing to the suitcase and pulling out the velvet-lined box. Inside, nestled amongst the satin, was the high-tech vibrator and the crimson lingerie. I quickly donned the lingerie, the crotchless design feeling even more daring than before.

As I returned to the bedroom, John was waiting, shirtless, his body a testament to his raw masculinity. He took my hand, leading me back to the bed, where he laid me down. The anticipation built with each passing second, the air thick with unspoken desire.

He slowly peeled off the lingerie, revealing my naked body beneath. Then, with a confident grin, he took his cock into his hand, presenting it to me like a prize. The sight of it was both exhilarating and terrifying, a potent symbol of his power and control.

I placed my foot on the chair, giving him the full frontal view. He began to pump his cock, his movements slow and deliberate, drawing me deeper and deeper into his world. The sensation was exquisite, a slow, building pressure that escalated into an unbearable tension.

As he continued to thrust, my body began to tremble uncontrollably. I let out a moan, a desperate plea for release, and my hand instinctively moved to his cock, feeling its hardness, its power. He responded with a forceful thrust, piercing my flesh with a sharp, insistent pain. The pleasure overwhelmed me, washing away all inhibitions and leaving me gasping for breath.

He continued to penetrate me with relentless force, pushing me further and further into the brink of ecstasy. My muscles clenched, my heart pounded in my chest, and I cried out in pure, unadulterated pleasure. The world around me dissolved, leaving only the sensation of his touch, the taste of his desire, and the overwhelming joy of being consumed by his pleasure.

As we reached the peak, I let out a primal scream that echoed through the room. He paused, his body convulsing in response to my release. As the waves of pleasure subsided, I turned to face him, my body drenched in sweat, my eyes glazed over with ecstasy. We spent the next hour lost in a whirlwind of passionate encounters, our bodies intertwined, our souls intertwined.

When the time finally came to part ways, I felt a pang of sadness, but also a sense of profound satisfaction. As I prepared to leave, John whispered in my ear, "You are always with me." And as I stepped out into the night, I knew that he was right. My heart belonged to him, and his touch was etched upon my soul. He would always be with me, even when we were apart.

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Three Weeks Without Your Touch

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