Weekend Rendezvous: A Husband's Delight

The rain hammered against the windows of the hotel room, a relentless, insistent drumming that mirrored the frantic beat of my own heart. It had been a chaotic, frustrating day, a testament to the universe’s apparent desire to make our impromptu weekend getaway as miserable as possible. The rerouted flight, the power outage at the seafood restaurant, the deluge that soaked us to the bone – it was almost comical, if not for the sheer discomfort it had caused. But as I stood there, stark naked in the humid air, my white garter belt clinging to my legs, my husband’s eyes tracing the lines of my body, the misery began to fade. He was completely captivated, his grin widening with each stolen glance. The surprise I’d planned, the seductive allure of my new outfit, had worked its magic. Now, it was time to deliver on that promise.

The initial awkwardness of the journey had dissolved into an almost unbearable tension as we pulled up to the hotel. The downpour made the drive exhilarating, a wild, reckless sprint through the rain-slicked streets. The restaurant was an even greater disaster, plunged into darkness after the power failed, forcing us to laugh nervously at the absurdity of our situation. But even in that damp, dark room, something primal stirred within me, a desperate need to connect with him, to lose myself in the raw, uninhibited pleasure of his touch.

As we retreated to our room, soaked and shivering, the desire intensified. I ripped off my jacket, then my bra, the cool air raising goosebumps on my skin. The garter and stockings felt strangely restrictive, but the feeling of vulnerability was strangely thrilling. He watched with a possessive intensity, his gaze lingering on every curve, every inch of my body. It wasn't long before he moved closer, his hand gently exploring the smooth skin of my chest. The touch sent shivers down my spine, igniting a fire beneath my skin.

“You look amazing,” he murmured, his voice husky with anticipation. “Like a goddess in the rain.”

His words were a spark, igniting a blaze of lust that consumed me entirely. I leaned into his embrace, burying my face in his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne. The scent of him was intoxicating, a potent blend of masculinity and desire that made my senses reel. As he began to kiss me, slowly and deliberately, tracing the curve of my lips, my body responded instinctively, a primal urge taking over my thoughts.

He deepened the kiss, his hands moving lower, tracing the line of my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies were pressed together, our breathing synchronized. The rain continued its relentless assault on the windows, a fitting soundtrack to our growing passion. It felt like hours as we moved from one intimate moment to another, lost in the rhythm of our bodies.

Finally, we stumbled into bed, a tangle of limbs and wet skin. The first thing I did was nibble on his earlobe, a playful gesture that sent a jolt of electricity through my system. Then, I kissed down his neck, savoring the feel of his rough stubble against my lips. His warm breath sent shivers down my spine, a sign of his arousal. I wanted him to know how much pleasure he was giving me.

As he began to lick and suck at my nipples, my body arched in response, my muscles tensing. The pleasure intensified with each pass, a delicious torment that left me gasping for air. He added flicks with his tongue, teasing and tantalizing, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. The sensation was exquisite, overwhelming, and utterly addictive.

Then, he reached down and started to finger me, his movements slow and deliberate, each touch igniting a fresh wave of pleasure. I moaned softly, lost in the moment, surrendering to the intensity of his touch. I felt like I was drowning in pleasure, unable to resist the pull of his touch. It wasn't long before my muscles clenched, my breathing grew ragged, and the first wave of orgasm washed over me.

As the wave subsided, I clung to him, desperate for more. He continued his assault, his movements growing more frantic, more insistent. The pleasure was overwhelming, almost unbearable, but I couldn't pull away. It was too good, too intense, too utterly captivating.

He reached for me, his fingers sliding into my wet, juicy, plump womanhood. It felt like a violation, but a welcome one. The sensation was exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that sent shivers down my spine. Neither of us wanted to wait any longer. We plunged deeper, lost in a world of sensation, our bodies moving in a frantic dance of passion.

We exploded together in a torrent of pleasure, our bodies shaking, our moans echoing through the room. The rain continued to fall outside, but we were oblivious, lost in the intensity of our shared experience. When the final wave subsided, we collapsed onto the pillows, exhausted but satisfied.

We lay there for a while, cuddling and holding each other close, savoring the aftermath of our passion. The rain finally began to ease, a gentle drizzle falling on the roof. It felt like a blessing, a sign that the storm was finally over.

As we sat up, I reached for the massage oil I'd packed, a thoughtful gift for him. I took his hands and rolled him onto his tummy, rubbing the fragrant oil into his arms, shoulders, and back. The scent of lavender and sandalwood filled the air, further intensifying our senses. As I moved on to his cute butt, getting more turned on by the minute, I realized that our weekend had been a success. The chaos, the inconvenience, the rain – it had all led to this moment, to this incredible connection.

Working my way down his legs to his feet, I felt a surge of anticipation. Positioning myself to straddle his oiled butt, I began to slide and ride him, my wet pussy eager for his release. The pleasure was immediate and intense, a torrent of sensation that left me breathless.

Before long, I orgasmed, letting out a low, guttural moan that vibrated through his body. He responded with a primal roar, a testament to his own arousal. We collapsed back onto the pillows, exhausted but exhilarated.

He turned me over on my back, positioning himself above me. He massaged my big tits with the oil, teasing me with his touch, building the anticipation. As he began to mount me, I felt a thrill course through my veins. The pleasure was exquisite, a perfect blend of sensuality and passion.

This time, he thrust long and slow, not fast and furious as in our first encounter that day. It was a deliberate act, a slow, sensual exploration that left me breathless. He whispered that he wanted to savor our moments together, a sentiment that resonated deeply within me. Each hard, deep stroke brought me closer and closer to the brink, intensifying my desire.

"Make me cum," I urged, my voice husky with pleasure. "Now! I've got to have you. All of you. Deeper. Harder. More!"

And then, I felt it – the final wave, the glorious release that washed over me in a torrent of sensation. A low, guttural moan escaped my lips, a sound of pure ecstasy. His cock twitched and spasmed as he began to moan too, a symphony of pleasure that mirrored my own. We collapsed together, lost in the aftermath of our shared experience.

As we lay there, cuddling and holding each other close, the rain continued to fall outside, a gentle reminder of the wild, chaotic weekend we had just experienced. It felt like a perfect ending, a testament to the power of desire and connection. The thought crossed my mind to order room service, but even that felt unnecessary. We had already achieved a level of intimacy that transcended words.

Did you like this story? Weekend Rendezvous: A Husband's Delight look, but like these, here Cheating sex stories.