The night sparkles like an impossible jewel, the moon’s rays turning the harsh white to a silvery blue sheen, and she was mesmerised by its beauty. It had been a long drive with the heater on full, the anticipation making her wish she’d gone against the instructions he’d sent. Dressed only in a long coat, she finds herself becoming further aroused the closer she comes to their meeting place.
It is pitch black, only her headlights pierce the darkness, illuminating the tree line and the silvery glowing eyes of beasts watching her pass. There it is, lit up from the windows like an oasis. She hesitates slightly, her toe lightly resting on the brake petal as she watches a shadow pass through the light, and disappear as though it had never been. He is waiting. The butterflies that had been beating their wings all day burst into flight as she manoeuvres the car down the heavily rutted and snow filled drive way, her heart pounding in her chest.
The bitter rasp of wind brushes back her midnight black hair as she steps from the warm vehicle, old man Winter’s cadaver-like fingers making her tremble and exposing her face as the pale mask that it is. She is cold, even with the fire burning briskly in her chest, her nipples standing taut under the thin fabric and anxious to see his eyes. The sign by the door reads Dreamland and she smiles. How he found it she didn’t know, but was grateful he did. Perhaps it truly was an oasis. She’d waited so long, forever, to feel him hard against her, to see him staring back at her, that she nearly screamed in frustration.
He stands in the open doorway to the little hideaway he’d discovered, chest bare, the moonlight drawing shadows on his muscled arms and chest and making his green eyes glitter. The air she’d been holding escapes in a sigh as she steps into his arms, and out of the cold. “Finally.” He kisses her bruisingly, stealing her breath and tearing the coat from her frame. Pushing her skirt up her thighs, he backs her into the wall and lifts her, plunging his engorged member into her moist tunnel with a groan. He slides in easily, her pussy so wet and hungry, and pounds into her, making the pictures rattle on the wall in time with her moans, and harder when she digs her nails into his back, making her squeal in pleasure.
Her pussy clenches around his hard rod, squeezing as she orgasms, crying his name over and over, her juices coating them both. Staring into his glowing eyes, she smiles and tightens her strong inner muscles around his still erect cock once again, begging him to take her again. He obliges, carrying her across the room not to the black sheeted king sized bed, but to the makeshift nest he’d built in front of the large stone fireplace.
Low, she hears Pink Floyd’s One Slip, and waits, fondling her nipple with one hand and massaging her clit with the other. He sits near her shoulder, his eyes on hers as his hand strokes his dick, watching her fingers as they move faster, as her hips begin to lift with a growing desire. “I want you inside me,” she growls, jamming her fingers deep into her well and sighing, “Please. I need you.”
His hot hard member pushes against her lips and she takes him fully into her warm mouth, abandoning her self pleasure as he lies back. Her long fingers massage the softness of his scrotum, lightly jostling as her tongue laves the tip, and then travels wetly down the veined shaft. She can feel him grow harder as she slides up and down, throbbing against her lips and her fingers find her clit once more, rubbing hard.
His hand pushes her hand away, and pulls her atop top of him, placing his hands on her ass as he buries his tongue deep inside her. Gasping, she bites gently, her tongue twisting and turning around his shaft like a lollipop, he tastes so good, she thinks, drawing the tip of her tongue across his ballsack, sucking each testicle into her mouth, and teasing it with her tongue.
His fingers are deep inside her, wriggling against her oily walls as he finger fucks her, nipping occasionally at her clit and making her cry out in delight. With abandon she sucks him deep, choking as the head presses against the back of her throat, up and down in time with the thrusts of his hand. Screaming around his rigid dick she cums, soaking his face with her wetness, and riding his fingers as she begins to shake.
She tries to pull away and he laughs, fucking her mouth as he continues to pound his now 3 long digits into her soaked puss, relishing the way she grinds down on them with each movement, wanting them deeper. He moans deep in his throat, bucking his hips and fucking her mouth as he cums. She licks him clean, tasting him with long luxurious strokes, stiffening slightly as he inserts one of his thick fingers into her rudest place, and begins working it in and out, keeping time with the ones in her slit. She sighs her own climax, once again drenching him with her pleasure.
He gently rolls her to her back, placing a soft kiss on the inside of her thigh, and stands. Opening her eyes, her face alight with a blissfully satisfied smile, she stares at his naked form, her eyes tracing the inky markings that decorate his skin. He is beautiful to her, in the firelight, watching her from above.
He reaches out his hand to her, helping her to her feet when she takes it, and holds her tightly to him, skin to skin. “We waited so long,” he whispers in her ear, his hand finding the firmness of her breast and cupping it, Kissing him, she presses against him, trapping his hand between her heart and his chest, loving the feeling of his hand on her flesh, his lips on hers. Slowly he moves away, his thumb caressing her nipple in light brushes, making her pant with want. “Come here,” he says, sitting on the chair near the hearth, and pulling her into his lap, “I want to watch you.” She feels his arousal again against her asscheeks and her pussy waters in anticipation, “Always so wet,” he murmurs, the pressure of his teeth on her breast stealing her breath.
“You do this to me,” she replies, wriggling her sex against his hard hot erection. She turns her back, lifting slightly, and guides his hardness into her warmth. Leaning against his chest, she pinches her nipples as she moves against him, loving the way he fits her, the way fills her, “I want to see you,” he grunts, holding her impaled on him, “Turn around.”
She feels him slip out of her, followed by a gush of wetness, and straddles him, lowering herself onto his pole and rocks her hips against it, staring into his eyes as she does. The intensity of his gaze makes her a little afraid, the feeling of him moving inside her so pleasurable that she cums quickly, crying his name loudly. She can feel his smile as he kisses her, and carries her to the big bed.
Running his thick cock over her glistening slit, he pushes the head inside, and feels her muscles envelop him. “please,” she asks quietly, her voice quiet, and he thrusts hard into her, the supple walls of her sex yielding as he hits bottom and she begs for him. She is at the mercy of his desire and he tortures her endlessly, bringing her to the brink of orgasm over and over, and stopping until she begged for him. Her body aches in a cycle of need that has her nearly in tears, and she does cry, when he pulls out of her, and places the tip of his cock against her virginity.
“Don’t hurt me.” He voice trembles, as does she. “Never,” he says, pushing his head into her, and feeling her small hole expand as he enters her, watching her eyes close and lips part as her back arches in pleasure. Further he pushes, feeling her juices dripping around her tight asshole, giving the lubrication he needs. Fully immersed he rests against her, kissing her with passion before beginning to pull back again. For a time, the only sounds in the world were the cracking of the fire, the soft strains of the music, and the quiet sighs of desire fulfilled.
The wine had been breathing for hours, and she poured them a glass, marvelling as the fragrance scented the air and the deep red liquid ran like rubies onto her glass. Sighing happily, she returns to where he waits, hands him the glasses and pulls the bejewelled hairpin from her luxurious locks, feeling them tumble around her shoulders.
“Merry Christmas,” she smiles, snuggling close to him and sipping the wine. “I love Dreamland. Can we come back again?” “Yes,” he says, his lips on her temple and smiling back. And they did. Often. Together. As one.
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