Twin Bed Trouble

The scent of stale beer and desperation hung thick in the air as I stared at the twin bed, a pathetic excuse for a marital retreat. My mother’s pointed disapproval still stung, a constant reminder of her disdain for my husband, Ryan. The queen bed was reserved for my four-year-old niece, a cruel twist of fate that left us sharing this cramped space. As soon as we arrived, Ryan practically dove onto the bed, a possessive energy radiating from him. “Ryan, at least try to act like a man,” I snapped, snatching his baseball cap from his head and hanging it on the rickety nightstand. The beer my father had given him, a pathetic attempt at appeasing my mother, was tossed aside. I meticulously straightened his hair, a futile gesture given its unruly length, and disposed of the chew, a habit he rarely indulged in but one that consistently irritated me.

“Change. We’re going out to dinner,” I announced, pulling open our suitcase.

Ryan nodded, settling into the narrow bed, instantly adopting the familiar posture of high school. He stripped off his athletic shirt and casually tossed it over the edge, a ghost of rebellious adolescence clinging to his movements. I watched, a slow smile spreading across my lips, remembering the stolen glances and breathless moments of our youth. Untying his Nike shoes, he kicked them to the side, exposing his bare feet. Slipping off his athletic shorts, he turned his head, a blatant invitation that sent a shiver down my spine.

“You don’t have to stare from a distance,” he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You could hear the arrogance in his voice for miles.”

I clambered onto the bed, laying down beside him, and ran my hand along the undeniable bulge beneath his boxers. "Wait," he commanded, interrupting my thoughts. He retrieved his backwards-worn baseball cap, a ritualistic act from our high school days, and placed it on his head, a defiant grin playing on his lips. "Now it’s just like high school."

I quickly responded with a passionate kiss, then continued to caress the hardening mass beneath my hand. Ryan, anticipating my advances, leaned down, his lips meeting mine in a demanding kiss. I leaned in, pressing my hand firmly against the burgeoning hardness, a silent plea for more. "You know I can't go much further," I whispered, my voice thick with desire. "I'm not even going to try to put nine inches of cock down my throat so get over it.” I rolled my eyes, pushing myself back onto the bed, determined to maintain control.

I resumed my assault, pleasuring him with fervent, almost violent strokes. As he neared climax, he instinctively pulled back, resting his head against the headboard and biting his lip in anticipation. A soft moan escaped his lips, a testament to his mounting excitement. I pulled my head away, savoring the moment of release, before returning to my task. He pushed me down, his hand firmly against my face, urging me to continue. I obliged, applying more pressure to his balls, eliciting a moan of pleasure.

Suddenly, a sharp rap on the door shattered the intimacy. “Hey, guys,” my mother’s voice called out, laced with disapproval.

My mouth was filled with Ryan's throbbing cock and the warm, salty residue of his cum. Speechless, I could only watch as he answered, offering a curt nod before retreating into the room. "We're getting dressed. We'll be ready in ten minutes."

As she walked away, I felt a surge of both frustration and exhilaration. Stripping quickly, I laid down, spreading my legs wide to reveal the full extent of Ryan's arousal. He responded with a slow, deliberate lick of his lips, kneeling before me with graceful ease. He kissed every inch of my body, a blatant display of dominance, before finally plunging his lips into my waiting flesh.

The anticipation built, and as he began to suck on my clitoris, my body tensed, begging for release. He continued, deeper and more insistent, until I cried out, finally succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure. As I came, a generous amount of his cum pooled in my mouth, a salty reward for my submission.

Ryan, sensing my pleasure, continued to thrust, his movements becoming more frantic as he neared his own release. He pulled me back periodically, allowing his cock to penetrate further, a brutal dance of pleasure and pain. Moans escaped my lips, a desperate plea for mercy, but also a testament to the exquisite agony.

The climax hit me like a wave, leaving me breathless and trembling. Ryan, overcome with his own release, stood up, his cock fully erect, a proud symbol of his victory. I smiled, shooting him a knowing glance, as he moved closer, his eyes filled with lust. "I only need seven," he whispered, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

After a brief, tense moment, he got up, pulling me to all fours. He placed his cock inside me, initiating a frenzied rhythm that sent shivers down my spine. He thrust with a relentless force, pushing me to the brink of ecstasy. The heat intensified, blurring my senses, as he increased the pace, demanding more and more. I moaned, lost in the intensity of the moment, unable to resist his insistent advances.

Finally, the peak arrived, an explosion of pleasure that left me gasping for air. Ryan, unable to contain his excitement, pulled back, his breath ragged, as he watched me come. He smiled, a genuine expression of satisfaction, as he witnessed my release. I swallowed the final remnants of his cum, a bittersweet taste of forbidden pleasure. As he stood, he caught my eye, his gaze lingering on my body. “You know I can’t go much further," I said, my voice still trembling with pleasure. "I’m not even going to try to put nine inches of cock down your throat so get over it.”

I rolled my eyes, sliding back onto the bed, eager to continue our game. He moved to cover my eyes, a playful gesture that only intensified my anticipation. The small bed, once a source of discomfort, now felt like a luxurious haven, a space where we could indulge in our desires without fear of judgment. The night was young, and the possibilities seemed endless.

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Twin Bed Trouble

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