Coming with Cold Comfort

He winks, hand in mine at a table near the dance floor. We know we’ll be naked together later, a delicious thought. Who would have thought it could have evolved in this direction, such a flow of lust and laughter?

In the weeks before lockdown I invited him to join us for dinner at my place, the fine ladies of my cul de sac all good fun. He fitted in as I knew he would, not the kind of guy who would dominate the conversation with tales of his past.

The wine flowed but at one point when the talk was a bit serious (I always find a way to mention climate change, as it is always lurking in my mind) he saw fit to insert a one liner:

“There’s been talk on the media about anal sex.”

The women all looked up and there was a long silent moment. Can’t remember who dared speak next, but when we four were outside for a smoke and he was in the other room on the phone, the talk turned to exactly that topic, and the ladies told their takes on that matter.

I just smiled thinking about him and me that afternoon, when there was a bit of sun in the middle of the day and the wind just a zephyr…still so cold in Canberra but calm enough for us to strip off in my patio.

We could hear voices across the road, but they were just far enough away to be loud murmurs. My bushes blocking any prurient views except for a gap down the back where the normal traffic of a weekday afternoon flowed in the distance.

We had no overt intention to do anything but lie in the sun, soaking up some Vitamin D, while the wind stayed mild. Don’t know how we got started, but his hand was stroking my back as he does and my hand somehow wound around his soft cock, as it does. A reflexive convenience of position only, surely.

We like lying there nude, chatting. On separate chaise lounges but within touching distance, that is important. We put cream on each other’s backs, kinda itchy from the trips to the indoor pool. The sun feels good and so do his hands working their way into my labia.

“I think you need some here, too” he murmurs in that low voice that means he’s thinking dirty, just as I am, a gradual shift from his more matter of fact tone. The cold cream soothes and stimulates my vulva as he softly works it in.

“Yes, that feels good.” My voice no doubt also registering a transition towards a different set of vocalisations.

He likes to torment my nipples, I am getting used to it. My hand feels his cock swelling.

“Doesn’t take much does it for the big boy to get hard?”

“Take him in your mouth, he needs a kiss.”

I oblige, my hands sliding over his fine long body as I lick and feel him getting even harder. He is fairly large boned, no fat but adequately covered, no bones to discomfort his approaches…

His approaches are never shy. Aroused by his hands now poking my lips along with the caresses and the pinching of the nipples…the not too soft bites or are they kisses on my shoulder.

“Ooh, that tickles. You’re giving me goose bumps..”

“Good that’s the idea.”

I swing over from my chaise to sit over him. On his back on the chaise an ideal height for me to straddle him. I ease onto him slowly, my thighs doing the work as my pussy opens a bit more with each breath.

It took a while, the urge to have him fully inside growing. He puts a lick of saliva on my pussy and fine tunes the angle of entry. An important parameter.

Now he’s in at least 80% and the ride begins. He’s beautiful beneath me, I move with quick breaths and moans. The slightly cool gusts of breeze go unnoticed, his smile and blue eyes, his trim torso all fueling my pleasure.

Eventually a break, his hands releasing my hips as I disengage and hop off. My feet still cold on the now shaded pavers. We wrap in our robes once more we retreat inside. Cups of tea and more kisses warm us.

“I guess you have to go back now..” thinking he’ll put on his clothes as I have started to do and then leave.

“Not just yet”, as he comes up behind me. “Do you need a bit more lotion?”

He rubs a bit more on my back, but doesn’t do my bra up again. Instead his long arms are reaching around to play with my clit, poking around the labia, moistening it even more as it is still wet from our time outside. The nibbles on my neck soften any reluctance I might muster for a lesser lover…

Clearly he’s going for the full monty, my legs stiffen as I wiggle slightly for maximum effect, tiny calibrations that he, as an acutely tuned engineer, also responds to. I come quick and hard, pulling forward with the trembling that accompanies a full blown orgasm.

I’m still panting in the kitchen as he leads me to the bedroom.

“On your knees, woman,” in his almost professional voice. I oblige. “Don’t move, I’m going to get my ring.”

“That’s a pretty sight. I love your bottom.” He pulls my cheeks open just a bit, teases my rear just a bit. A few more pushes and he’s in me again, deep and hard. His build up is strong and I’m swaying with each thrust. We were groaning together when he came, I shuddered with after shocks until he withdrew.

“Have a little taste.” He holds out his finger to lick a drop of cum off his finger. Can’t say it’s my favourite flavour, but it is the flavour of him, and therefore nectar.