Cider and Mistletoe

My answer was to arch my hips upward and grip him with my pussy muscles. I succeeded into getting another couple of inches inside my hot tunnel. “I want all of you inside me, Nick.”

He pushed into me, his rod of steel almost splitting me open. I cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He muffled my mouth with his, kissing me, whispering, “Sherrie, I haven’t been this deep inside a woman in years. Take me, baby.”

His stroke was steady and purposeful, as I got wetter and wetter. I felt his cock’s head rubbing over my g-spot. The pressure applied was perfect, as my body tensed for an earth shattering orgasm. With my nails digging into his back, I cried out again, as my body racked in spasms with my pussy vibrating over and over.

He took my stockinged legs in his hand, placing them over his shoulder. Next he placed his strong talented hands under my hips, bringing me off the bed. I met him thrust for thrust, his cock so perfect in my wet tunnel. My body tensed as he stroked faster and faster, pumping his tool into my welcoming pussy, stretching it to the limit, piercing me with it.

And I was taking it. And it felt good. This amazed me as much as it did him. His breathing became shallow and rapid; I knew that he would soon cum, as I was on the edge again.

He moved his hand from my hips to squeeze my breasts and tug on the nipples. I came hard, my body lost in tremors, while my pussy clenched tightly around his cock, milking it. He couldn’t take it and once again I got the pleasure of watching his animated face as he came, squirting his hot cum load into me. My pussy cried when he slid his throbbing spent cock out.

He rolled over beside me, pulling me into the haven of his strong arms, placing the comforter over us. My body still quaked with aftershocks. He kissed my forehead, whispering sweet nothings. I would be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it to experience the wonder of his lovemaking. Part of me was in a state of shock, not believing that I took all of his cock like I did. If I had not desired him so, it wouldn’t have made it into me at all.

Nick whispered in my ear, just before drifting off, “Sherrie, that was heaven.”

Listening to his light snore, I thought of how he got his Christmas wish and how content he was, so peaceful and glowing with satisfaction. Knowing that if I looked into the mirror, I would see the identical look on my face, I nestled down into the comfort of his arms. Just before I, too, drifted off into slumber, I thought that maybe I should write a letter to Santa.