A Cold December Night

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Jacob and I make love again.
1.8k words
4.17
38.5k
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angel_69
angel_69
327 Followers

It was early December. Cold and very snowy. The perfect day to lay on the couch by the fire, have some tea, read a book, or make love. I was reading a book at the moment. I was lost in my own little world not aware that my evening was going to change for the better.

I was sitting on my couch with a hot cup of tea and a book, covered by a blanket when I heard a rustle outside of my apartment.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a light tap on my patio window.

It was Jacob. He was holding what appeared to be a mug or something to that effect.

I went towards my front door and let him in. He had hurriedly rushed to beat me there with success. "Would you like to come in?" I asked. It was freezing outside.

He stepped through the doorway and I closed it behind him to seal in the warmth. Jacob lifted the empty coffee cup and asked me if he could borrow some sugar. He looked quite awkward.

I laughed happily, "Do people really ask that?", I nudged him on the arm, "Borrow sugar I mean. It just seemed like something that happens in movies."

"Or when even the seven-eleven is closed." he retorted with a mocking sneer.

I looked at him curiously, not making a move to take the cup.

"Are you ok?" I asked.

He squinted at me, maybe wondering if there was something in his appearance that betrayed his emotional state. I had picked up on whatever it was, using my extraordinary skills of observance. He laid the cup down on the nearby counter.

"Come in."

He asked me if I was sure and I told him that he was only saving me from watching another rerun of the Drew Carey Show. Once in my living room, I asked him to sit down.

He did. I found it interesting that he chose the spot that I usually sat in. He pushed the blanket to the side and I sat on the other side of the couch. I tucked one of my legs under the other as I faced him.

I asked him if he wanted to talk about whatever it is bothering him. I looked at him for a long moment and waited for an answer, settling into the cushions of the couch more comfortably. "Or not say anything, if you'd like.

He raised an eyebrow to me and looked over at a picture on the mantle. He walked over and picked it up. Jacob saw the two young girls in the picture with me and asked me if they were my daughters. I nodded.

He looked back at me and gave me a lopsided smile, "They are beautiful. I can see where they get their looks."

I smiled and tilted my chin into my chest. It caused my hair to fall over my face. Good answer, I told him.

He moved to stand next to me on the side of the couch. "I don't know what I am doing here," he admitted, "I don't want any sugar but I needed a reason to see you. It was the best I could come up with."

My laugh seemed husky, vibrating against the throw pillow I had just picked up. I reached out and hooked one finger into the belt loops of his jeans.

"You should have been more creative." I responded. Those fingers slid from the waist of his jeans to cup the arousal beneath his closed zipper, "We could have skipped this dance."

"I didn't want to presume", he stuttered, "that I had any right to do so."

I licked my lips, "Good, because you do not have that right."

He caught my hand against his fly, pressing it more insistently against him, as if absorbing the warmth of me to calm his stormy nerves.

I shifted my hand so that fingertips dipped inside the waist of his jeans, catching between the material and his skin. I assumed that the movement and my boldness were responsible for making him rock hard.

He let me undo the button on his jeans. Within a moment, his length was in my hands. I shifted on the couch until I sat on the edge of it. I slid my mouth over the head of his erection. His eyes closed and he clenched his teeth together, that much I could see in the glass of the balcony doors behind us. I wanted to watch our reflection as I made the sweet sensation of release grow inside of him.

I curved my fingers around the base of him and held him straight while I took more of him. My tongue swirled around his shaft and backed away before going down on him again.

Jacob slowly touched my hair, fingering it's soft strands. Reaching behind me, he tugged on my sweater until I broke contact and allowed him to strip it from me. My back seemed long and graceful, appearing a ghostlike white in the glass. He smoothed his palms down my shoulders and unhooked my bra, watching as I shook it off. I watched in the glass as my breasts swayed tantalizingly.

He groaned as I took him into my mouth and increased suction. His hips responded, bucking involuntarily. He pushed my hair back so that he could view my face and my attentions directly. I imagined that he was mesmerized by the fit of my lips, the flicks of my tongue, and the grip of my hand. The same hand that squeezed him and curved down to cup his balls.

Jacob stiffened as he prepared to cum, he asked me not to pull away. I continued to suck until he filled my mouth and moved his shaft to my breasts. I squeezed the full mounds of flesh together and sandwiched him there, prolonging his climax until he had emptied himself.

I ran my tongue along the head of his erection. I was excited to find that he was still hard. I felt fingers entwined in my hair, not quite pulling, not quite caressing either. They shifted from my head to my shoulders where he coaxed me to rise from the couch.

I stood to face him, the taste of his semen still hot and salty in my mouth. His gaze seemed fixed on my lips, lingering there as he unfastened the catch of my slacks and push the fabric down long my hips. Fingers skimmed across my bare bottom, where they dipped into the shallow crevice before moving up my back. I shivered, not from the cold but from the intensity of his expression, combined with his knowing touch.

It was then when he kissed me.

My breath caught as the first pass of his lips touched mine. I was more prepared when he came back for another and I kissed him back.

There is an art to kissing, by the way. A finesse that most people either chose to ignore or do not take the time to master. If you kiss someone right, it is enough to bring your lover to climax without touching them anywhere else. Take my word for it.

He was a masterpiece.

I made quick work of stripping the rest of his clothes off before melting into his embrace. I was quite satisfied to be making out with him. His tongue tangled with mine, his right hand slid down from my back to my front, gently cupping my breast in the process. He caught my nipple between his thumb and index finger, rolling the tight, sensitive tip of it. I could do little else but moan, curving my hands down over his backside. I took the time to revel in the muscled length of him as I pressed my stomach against his thick erection.

I ached to feel him somewhere else.

His attention moved from my mouth to my neck and shoulder.

I tried to guide his mouth back to mine but he resisted, distracting me instantly by plunging his fingers into my damp channel from behind, parting me to the cool air.

He grasped my hips and turned her. It was only then that he was aware that we were fully reflected in the balcony doors. I readily bent over, arching my back so my bottom thrust up toward in open invitation. He responded by possessing the cheeks of my ass, parting them.

My hands were placed on the back of the couch, bracing myself for his entry. Instead, he used his hand to caress me with his hard on, moving the head along my damp opening and back again before sandwiching himself between the folds of my swollen flesh and pressing the head against my clit.

I gasped as pure need pulsed through my veins. I hungered to have him fill me and the longer he delayed it, the more I wanted him.

I reached between my legs and took his thick, heavy length in my palm, restlessly positioning him against my portal and bearing down on him even as he continued to stand still. Inch by inch, I slid back. My breasts throbbed along with the rest of me as I took him.

I caught his gaze in the glass as he watched our coupling. I recklessly licked, then bit my lips. He finally grasped my hips and imprinted my skins with his fingers as he thrust into me.

I cried out, filled beyond expectation as this man filled me with his hot muscle.

He thrust against as I clutched the couch and braced myself for his deep strokes. I watched my breasts shudder as flesh slapped against flesh. I felt his balls sway against me with each meeting of our bodies. I do not recall witnessing myself in such a carnal state and I was mesmerized by our reflection. The fullness of my breasts, the pertness of my ass, the bowing of my mouth, coupled with Jacob's expression and the rippling of his abs made me want to have more.

I reached between my legs again, finding his sensitive sack and fondled it. Jacob made a deep sound in this throat as the intensity of his thrusts increased. When he stiffened in climax, deep within me, I tumbled happily and rushed in after him.

I slid downward over the couch, forcing our separation. My pussy was throbbing and wet, my breasts heavy and my eyelids even more so. I sat, motioning for him to join me. He did so, sliding onto me, placing the throw blanket over our bodies as we continued to make out.

I woke up several hours after my last orgasm to an empty apartment. At first, I had thought that it was all a fantasy. It wasn't until I saw his coffee mug on the counter top that I knew that he had been here. That it had been real.

I laughed to myself, giving my breasts a firm massage before I started to finger myself.

Jacob was proving to be quite adept at this. I could sense that this would not be the last time we were naked together bringing each other to orgasm.

angel_69
angel_69
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4 Comments
chytownchytownover 1 year ago

*****WOW you are quite the storyteller. Great piece of storytelling very entertaining read. Thanks for sharing.

KingCuddleKingCuddleabout 3 years ago

Is this YOU?

Who needs The Lottery?

Perky is clamoring for Your Honey Pot!

How are you with Hello Sex?

AnonymousAnonymousover 13 years ago
To The Contrary

When a woman is ready and in lust, it is no longer a "hunt" but more of an embracing the man and the moment! Good writing.

D

MetamorphoseMetamorphoseover 13 years ago
It's the hunt, not the kill

At least that what's doing it to me. Like love making an ertic story can be much more than thrusts and grunts.

Something that takes time is worth doing and worth reading.

Sorry, not my cup of viagra.

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