The Fireplace

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A brief interlude between husband and wife.
910 words
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The snow was falling gently as they settled down to watch a movie. She marveled at the snowflakes floating lazily to the ground. They were about halfway through the movie when the electricity went out.

"Oh no!” she wailed, as her hands scrambled around, digging through drawers, looking for some candles. In this kind of weather you never knew how long it might be out.

"I suppose I’d better go and bring in more firewood in case we are without electricity for a while.” Pete was her husband and even after 10 years of marriage they were still as in love as they had been when they couldn't wait to get married. She smiled and shrugged, "Better to do it now than have to go dig the woodpile up again!" He bundled up against the weather, pulled on his leather gloves and headed out of the door.

"It’s a good thing you’re making me go out in the cold - come here and look at this!" We had already accumulated about three inches of snow, and it was coming down hard, millions of big, fluffy white snowflakes determined to cover us.

"Hurry Hon, I don't want to have to come dig you out of a snow drift!” she laughed. She continued her search for all the smaller candles and matches to light the beautiful, scented ones she had scattered throughout the house. After lighting some of the pillars and several of the smaller tealights in their different votive holders, she stood smiling at the warm glow their light cast on the room. Pete had brought in several armloads of logs and had gone out again. She couldn’t hear him and started to worry a little. She donned her Parka, pulled on some boots and gloves, and wrapped a scarf around her face and neck. She opened the front door and tucked her head down against the wind as she stepped outside...plop!

"What the...?" Pete started laughing and she knew the annual snowball fight was on! He tackled her, rolling her in the snow. She was no match for his assault, and as he lay on top of her his lips found hers and his tongue probed the depths of her mouth. She could feel his hard body pressed against hers, pushing her into the snow...God she loved him! She always wondered when one of her friends or family said something about their sex life dwindling - was she just lucky or was it chemistry that just couldn't be denied? She didn't care what it was! This man of hers could turn her to mush with just a look, and when he held her and kissed her she was transported to paradise.

They lay there in their private, frozen wonderland. Neither of them felt the cold any more. The desire they felt for each other had warmed every ounce of blood in their bodies. She whispered breathlessly, "Let's go stoke that fire.” Pete stood and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her into the house and kicking the door shut as he sat her down on the big bear rug she had insisted on. It was an extravagance they couldn't really afford, but he was unable to refuse her anything.

He pulled her boots off and she unwrapped the scarf. Their movements took on a fevered pace as they undressed each other. He laid her back gently on the rug and stopped to gaze at her pale skin that was such a contrast to the dark brown fur. Her auburn hair fanned out around her and covered the bear's head that she’d chosen to use as a pillow.

He leaned down and kissed her lips softly at first; then with the lust boiling in his loins he kissed her more forcefully. He forced his tongue savagely into her hungry mouth and began to knead her ample breasts. A moan escaped his mouth as she arched her back, pressing one breast tightly into his big gentle hand. He knew she could never resist him but she was putty in his hands when he touched her breasts, owned them, made them his to do with as he pleased. He broke away from their kiss and ran his tongue down her neck. She writhed underneath him and grabbed his hair, pulling him tight to her breast so that he could flick the hard nipple with his tongue.

She let out a primal moan only he and the wilderness understood. She was a mass of nerve-endings crying out for his touch, craving to feel his lips, his hands, and his manhood piercing her. She clutched at his back and ran her nails down it as he ran his manhood up and down her lower lips. She cried out as he entered her. He groaned as the warm, wet walls of her vagina wrapped around him, sucking him in deeper, unwilling to let go. He began to drive his manhood into her at a frenzied pace, pounding into her as she uttered unintelligible words of passion. She was lost in her animal lust for him to take her; possess her; own her. He too was lost in the sensations crashing through his body as he took ownership of this most prized possession. Their climaxes crashed through them like tsunamis barreling towards land, destroying everything in their wake before rippling gently back to sea.

They savored the afterglow, stroking each other and whispering words of love.

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