Velvet Touch, Silent Plea

The insistent chirping of the alarm clock ripped me from the warmth of sleep, a jarring intrusion into the hazy comfort of my morning. My eyes flickered open, adjusting to the pale light filtering through the gap in the blackout curtains. There he was, my husband, Daniel, sprawled across the bed, one arm flung across his face, lost in the world of slumber. A slow, languid stretch, a ripple of muscle beneath the worn cotton of his pajama top, and I couldn’t resist the primal urge to reach out.

My hand, guided by instinct, drifted across the expanse of his chest, lingering over the solid, reassuring curve of his pectoral muscles. It descended, sliding along the smooth fabric of his boxer briefs, a gentle exploration of the silent promise of arousal. There wasn't any sign of the morning wood he so often indulged in, leaving me free to indulge in my own slow, deliberate movements. It was a simple pleasure, a silent greeting to the day, but it ignited a spark within me, a prelude to the sensual exploration that awaited.

A mischievous glint entered my eyes as I shifted my grip, angling my fingers into an open pinch, a playful gesture of dominance and intimacy. Slowly, deliberately, I began to trace the length of his erect member, up and down, up and down, up and down. The rhythmic press of my fingertips against his skin sent shivers through me, a slow, building crescendo of anticipation. His body responded, subtly at first, then with increasing urgency. The waistband of his briefs strained, pulled upwards by the burgeoning weight of his arousal. He didn’t stir, didn’t even twitch, lost in the silent pleasure of the moment. The slow, consistent pace of the pinch intensified the sensations, a deliberate tease that only heightened the pleasure.

Minutes melted away as I continued my exploration, savoring the electric current that pulsed through my fingertips. As the head of his penis emerged, fully formed, a wider smile spread across my face. It was time to elevate the experience, to push the boundaries of pleasure. With a decisive movement, I shifted my technique, employing all four fingers in a delicate dance across his shaft. Down with the fingertips, up with the nails, a rhythmic cycle of sensation that left him breathless. Down and up, down and up, down and up – each movement a deliberate act of provocation, a silent conversation between our bodies. The glistening tip of his member confirmed my efforts; the anticipation was almost unbearable. I resisted the overwhelming urge to lick away the moisture, biting my lower lip in a silent battle of restraint.

The desire for more, an insistent hum beneath my skin, demanded attention. The playful pinch and nail action continued, alternating between downward pressure and upward trailing, a constant reminder of my control and his yielding submission. The scent of arousal filled the air, a primal perfume that fueled my senses. I concentrated on the feel of his body beneath me, each pulse, each ripple of muscle a testament to the escalating pleasure. My thighs rubbed together, a silent plea for more, a physical manifestation of my yearning.

His hips began to roll, a slow, involuntary response to my touch, a subtle acknowledgment of the pleasure he was experiencing. The rhythmic descent of the wetness onto his stomach created a glistening trail, a testament to the potency of his arousal. He groaned softly, a low rumble in his chest, a sign of his near surrender. I watched him, fascinated by his gradual awakening, wondering if he was even aware of the intensity of the experience. My focus remained on my sensual motions, determined not to lose my concentration, to maintain the exquisite tension between anticipation and release. My lips pressed together, fighting back involuntary moans, desperate to preserve the silence and savor the moment.

The next wave of sensation came as I shifted my approach, cupping his balls in my hands and running my fingers over their taut, swollen surface. The resulting contraction, the tightening of his muscles, was a clear signal of his imminent release. A deep, guttural groan erupted from his throat, a primal cry of pleasure that sent shivers down my spine. A wide grin spread across my face, a silent acknowledgment of his complete surrender.

He was still drowsy when I leaned forward, my tongue tracing the glistening head of his cock with a slow, deliberate motion. Then, I moved to his stomach, licking away the accumulated moisture, savoring its salty sweetness. With a surge of abandon, I pulled down his slick, tight boxer briefs, exposing the full extent of his arousal. The sight was too much to resist; the pleasure overwhelmed me, demanding immediate gratification. Straddling his hips, I positioned him at my entrance, lowering myself with a graceful descent, and finally, finally, slid him into my hot, wet embrace.

The world narrowed, focusing solely on the exquisite sensation of his body against mine. Up and down, up and down, up and down – I rode him with unrestrained passion, pushing the boundaries of pleasure. His hands found my hips, pulling me closer, drawing me into his embrace. His eyes slowly opened, widening in surprise, then settling into a look of pure, unadulterated desire. A moan escaped his lips, a low rumble of pleasure that resonated through my entire being. “Mmmmm, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with arousal.

“Yes?” I responded, my voice barely audible, lost in the throes of pleasure. But as he gathered his thoughts, my efforts increased, my pace quickened, leading us both to a glorious, unforgettable climax. The room spun, a dizzying vortex of sensation, as we merged together, lost in the shared ecstasy of our bodies.

He enveloped me, pulling me close and pressing a kiss to my forehead, a silent acknowledgment of the pleasure we had shared. "Morning," he murmured, his voice still thick with arousal.

“Morning,” I replied, a contented sigh escaping my lips. The lingering warmth of his body against mine was a comforting reminder of the intimacy we shared, the connection that bound us together. As we lay tangled in the sheets, exhausted but exhilarated, I knew this was just the beginning of our sensual adventures.

P.S.S. Stay Tuned for more of Veronica’s sexy adventures with her man.

Affiliate Links (full disclosure here.)

P.S.S. The slick, tight boxer briefs mentioned in this story are the Men’s Armachillo Bullpen Boxer Briefs from Duluth Trading Company. However, any slick, tight-fitting underwear will get an amazing result. Enjoy!

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