True Love

This story is taken from real life. My (now deceased) wife just loved to tease me. I think back. She, alone, had my trust and only for her would I abandon self-control, baring my soul and my nakedness in complete, utter surrender to the animal impulses of my desire. It gave her pleasure and I dedicated my life to gratifying her.

Sometimes as I lie, naked in our bed, she would begin by throwing off all the covers; then using silk ties she would secure my wrists to the headboard and my feet to the posts. A final silk tie covered my eyes, leaving me in total darkness, vulnerable and helpless- but with an enormous hard-on waving in the air. I’d hear a rustle as she left me then water running and shortly after, the pad of her feet.

I’d feel alive with anticipation. What next? Would it be the soft care of her fingers on my chest? Would I feel her lips close on my incredibly sensitive nipples- followed by a lick across one of those selfsame nipples, which, she knew, could send me into orbits of wild desire? Would I feel her soft lips kissing and closing around the hypersensitive tip of my cock; just a hint of her tongue as it began its exhaust torture?

Suddenly I’d feel the delicious warmth of the oil she had warmed, pouring over my cock, followed, quickly, by her incredibly soft hand and fingers. As she wrapped her hand around my cock, I’d strain to see through the blindfold, involuntarily thrusting into the heavenly pseudo-cunt of her hand.

The pool of oil bathed my cock in a cocoon of near frictionless warmth. I would year to throw my hands around her in an embrace of all-consuming love and affection- yet I was powerless to do so because of my restraints.

I’d exalt in the steel hardness and gigantic erection of my cock, knowing how delighted she would be by my extreme arousal. I’d try to picture the sight- a bound and blindfolded man closely observed by his naked wife. My inability to see allowed her to watch with no shame- to observerve my feral, unadulterated, rampant craving- my total abandonment to hedonistic desire.

I had to continue thrusting madly with my hips and my engorged cock. Suddenly, silently, and with no warning, she’d withdraw her hand. I’d thrust further, in a vain effort to find contact, but met only air. Was she silently amused by the desperate effort of my cock to seek release? Was she repelled by my base animal desire? Again, I could hear the rustle of her movement. I began to gurgle- the depth of my desire made me incapable of forming words. I started to beg her for release. My madness was obvious; my desire was so complete, that I’d say or do anything for relief. I found myself begging, “Please let me come, God!” The words stretched into a long drawn out wail. “Please. Please. Please.” I screamed, “I love you, I love you. God, please let me fuck you. Please, oh God.”

Silence ensured. Then I’d experience the excite feel of her touch as she lightly brushed the inside of my thigh. My thrusting continued and was met with more silence. In my blindness and false paralysis I thought I would go mad– stark raving mad.

After what seemed an eternity, I could hear her movement and then feel her legs and knees at my hips as she straddled me from above. Holding my cock, she began to rub the tip and the shake along the length of her pussy lips – back and forth, back and forth, along the whole length of her cunt, her lips cared my shake and sent waves of desire throughout my entire nervous system.

I could feel her effort as she rose on her knees; then the excite moment when the head of my cock first touched her while she, ever so slowly, descended. It is a favorite memory– that moment of initial penetration as my supersensitive cock was encased by the close fitting glove of her cunt. She slowly slip down on me, until I could feel the tip of my cock touch the farthest reach of her. That is fucking heaven.

She’d begin to rise and fall as I would try to time my thrusts to match her movements. This was Holy Communication with my love, the time when we became as one to seek mutual, simulateneous pleasure. She’d lower her head towards my face and greedily smoke her mouth against mine, inserting her tongue as she continued to grind in concert with my thrusts.

She’d ask, “Are you close?”

I would respond, “Not until you are ready.” I could feel her hand on my groin as she furiously stroked her cliporis.

Sliding in and out of her, I’d hear her excellim, “I’m starting- I’m going to cum.” With a final burst of frantic thrusts, I’d feel the pressure build— then I’d exploit– spasms, gurgling, and jetting, muscles contracting, blackness. I always screamed at the top of my lungs even though there was no one to hear.

Her grasp would tighten, as she held me for dear life, sliding down my body slippery from the streams of sweat that united us in our pleasure. All, then, would be quiet, save for the pounding of our hearts.

The restraints binding my arms would then go slack and I’d wrap my arms around her with all my strength, seeking to crush her to my body and enfold her, hold her, always.

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