We’d put a hook-and-eye lock on the inside of our bedroom door, way up high so the kids couldn’t play with it, to have some privacy when we want it. That gave us a little more freedom, but the closed door didn’t stop sound. We’re both noisy lovers, so we’ve had to force ourselves to be pretty quiet. Actually we’d talked about having the room soundproofed, but we couldn’t do that with the chance that the kids might need us in the middle of the night.
Oh well.
Anyway, one afternoon Dave arrived home from work, looking like the cat who swallowed the canary. “Dave and Bev are going out, going out, going out. Dave and Bev are going out, my fair lady,” he sang to the tune of “London Bridge.”
“What’s up?”
“My parents are taking the kids to their house for the night. We have reservations at Chez Marcel.”
“You asked them?” We’d vowed not to burden Dave’s elderly parents with our two rambunctious kids.
“They volunteered. My mom called me at work this afternoon and we got into a long discussion. They wondered why we never asked them to babysit. ‘You need to get out and have some fun,’ my mom said, my dad agreeing in the background.”
“Wow. That’s fabulous and I’m thrilled,” I said. “Is this a special occasion?”
“It is now. I need some time alone with you. No rug rats. No nothing.”
I was delighted. I packed a small overnight bag for Cody and Lauren, and Dave drove them over to his folks’ house. At my husband’s suggestion, I ran a leisurely bath and climbed in to soak, something I never had time to do.
A short while later, up to my neck in bubbles, I heard the front door close when he returned. Moments later, Dave walked into our large bathroom with a candle in each hand. After he wordlessly put them on the vanity, he lit them, then left again, only to return with one of the kids’ pails filled with ice, a bottle of champagne inside. He put it on the floor and took the two fancy tulip glasses we’d used for the bridal toast at our wedding from his pockets.
“Oh, baby,” I said, my eyes filling. “We haven’t used those since I found out I was pregnant the first time.”
“I know, and it’s sad. I mean to remedy that, at least for tonight.” He winked at me. “May I join you?”
The tub was big enough for two, as we’d discovered when we first moved in a few months after Cody’s birth. Dave quickly stripped and climbed in. It took a bit of arranging to get our legs in just the right places but once he was settled, he poured us two glasses of beautiful, golden, bubbly wine.
As he handed one to me, he said, “One promise. No talk about work, the kids, or the house. I want this to be for us.”
We hadn’t just talked in so long that it took a moment for me to come up with another topic. We sipped and began with the weather then slowly relaxed and moved on to local politics and a TV show we’d seen the weekend before. After my second glass of champagne, Dave added more hot water. “How about the Jacuzzi? Let’s turn it on.”
I reached behind me and flipped the switch. Jets of water pounded against our backs and sides and froth began to rise around us. I felt Dave’s foot slide up the back of my thigh and his fingers play with my toes. I purred, but I’m sure he didn’t hear me over the din of the jets. When his big toe found my slit and began to massage my slick flesh, a shudder ran through me.
Two can play, I thought, finding his balls with my foot. We played, teasing and sipping, for several minutes. Then Dave turned me slightly so my breasts were in the direct path of one of the water jets. It was exciting and soon there was water all over the floor.
We were both a little tipsy, so when I urged him to spread his knees in the path of another jet he threw his head back and just enjoyed. I’m sure we’re not the first people to use those jets as a sex toy, but it was a first for us. After only a moment, Dave turned me so I was sitting on his lap, facing his feet. He lifted me, buoyed by the water, and lowered me onto his erection.
As he moved, I squeezed my vaginal muscles to tighten my passage. He grabbed my boobs and filled his hands with my flesh. Our mutual orgasm was quick and satisfying.
What a great start to our evening.
An hour later we were dressed in our best and seated at Chez Marcel. We feasted on steak and lobster, our conversation filled with erotic innuendos and double entendres. My dessert turned out to be a very gooey chocolate cake, while his was crème brûlée.
I scooped some icing on one finger and rubbed it over his lips. He sucked my finger, ostensibly to lick off the fudge. He returned the favor with a dollop of pudding. After all the teasing, we were in no mood to prolong our meal, so Dave paid quickly and we rushed home.
“I’m so hot I could explode,” he told me, “but I want to play a little. Are you willing?”
“Sure,” I said, not really convinced that I wanted to wait to make love to him.
“All that gooey stuff gave me ideas. Come into the kitchen.” Once there, he patted the counter. “Pull off your panties and sit up here,” he said.
I’m no shrinking violet, and our sex life had been adventurous—before the kids. I did as he asked and settled on the counter. From one cabinet, Dave pulled out a bottle of maple syrup. My smile widened when I realized what he had in mind.
“Lean back,” he said, and I propped myself on my elbows. He dribbled syrup on my pussy, then rubbed it into my folds. “Okay, the object of the game is for me to find every last drop.” He paused. “With my tongue.”
Sounded like a plan to me, so I spread my thighs wider.
Leaning over, his tongue explored, delving into every crevice, driving me totally crazy. Eventually he licked the insides of my pussy lips and dug deeply into my channel with his tongue. “All gone,” he said and I was disappointed he was going to stop.
Not so. He stood, opened the refrigerator door, and withdrew a bottle of maraschino cherries. “With a cherry on top.” He giggled. “Or inside.”
As I watched, he pulled out one fruit and touched my clit with the icy globe. “Youch,” I said.
“Well, let’s warm it up.” He pushed it into me, leaving the stem sticking out of my pussy. “Now I’ll see whether I can find it.”
He did and I climaxed. Hard. Hot. Screaming.
When I calmed, I said, “Okay, my turn.”
We switched places, Dave now seated on the counter without his pants and shorts, his hard dick sticking straight up. I thought a minute, then got a jar of chocolate syrup and a can of whipped cream from the fridge. “I’m going to totally blow my diet,” I said, “and you, too, of course.”
I covered his cock and balls with fudge, then squirted whipped cream all over, topping the end of his cock with a cherry. I licked off every drop, and then sucked his cock until he came. He tasted like all the gooey sundae-makings and of his salty, tangy come.
We ended the evening in the shower and made love again, eventually collapsing into bed. “Do you think we can ask your parents for one evening a month?” I suggested.
“I’m sure we can. I just wonder why we didn’t do it sooner.”
Show Me
“SHOW ME,” HE SAID.
“Show you what?” I said, not really having any doubts about what he meant.
“Show me how you pleasure yourself when you’re alone.”
“I don’t—” I lied.
“Of course you do,” he said, calm and factual. “Every woman does and I don’t doubt for a moment that you do as well. I want to see.”
Okay, let me back up. My name is Sherri and I’m twenty-four. I’ve been dating Connor for about four months and the sex has been pretty good. Although it’s predictable, both of us usually climax, and what more is there than that?
Connor’s a really nice guy who I met at the office. We started dating and it was maybe five dates before we ended up in bed. Our evenings usually begin with a movie or bowling or time at a watering hole with a few friends. We get home afterward, hold each other, kiss, and press our bodies together. Hands wander and quite qui
ckly we end up on my bed, naked, making love. By the time he penetrates me, I’m wet and ready. We fuck, doze, then he goes back to his place.
This evening, we started as we usually do. We’d seen an R-rated film with lots of good, hot sex. Both of us were aroused so that, by the time we got to my living room, our kissing rapidly escalated. I pulled his shirt from the waistband of his jeans and ran my palms over the skin of his back. I love his skin, smooth and warm. He works out so I could feel his muscles as my hands roamed over his hard flesh. He pulled my sweater over my head and played with my breasts, eventually burying his face in my cleavage.
Then he picked me up and carried me into the bedroom and placed me gently on the quilt. God, I was really ready. He pulled off my jeans and the rest of my clothes until I lay there, naked. He was still dressed and I waited for him to remove his clothing and climb up beside me. Instead he sat on the edge of the bed and said, “Show me.”
I’m not a stranger to sex, or to masturbation for that matter, but I’ve never even considered doing it where anyone, much less a totally ready guy, could see. Not a chance.
“I think you’re as hungry as I am,” he said, “and I’ve always been curious to watch. Anyway, it’s the best way for me to learn what you like.”
“I like you inside of me,” I said, hoping to deflect him.
“You’re really wet,” he said, staring at my crotch, “and I’ll bet you want me right now.”
I drew my legs together and pressed my thighs tightly closed. “You bet I do.” I reached for him but he leaned away from me.
“If you want me, you’ll have to show me first.”
“Come on, Connor,” I said, getting a little frustrated. “Enough.”
“Not enough,” he said. “It must be embarrassing as hell but I want to watch. If I don’t get what I want, you won’t either.” He rubbed the bulge behind the zipper of his jeans. “I can always go home and take care of this myself.”
I thought quickly. “Okay, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” I was sure he’d turn me down.
He considered, then said, “I guess you’re right. Sauce for the goose and all that. Okay. Deal.”
I swallowed hard. “Okay, deal?” I squeaked.
“Do you use a dildo or a vibrator?” he asked, as casual as asking me what I wanted for dinner.
In truth I had used both from time to time, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. “No,” I said.
“What gets you in the mood?” he continued, not letting me relax. “Erotic stories? Got any porno flicks?”
“Of course not,” I said. I had a few stories I’d copied from the Internet in the bottom drawer of my dresser. God, Sherri, you’re becoming such a liar, but it’s for a good cause, I thought.
“We both know you’re lying, but we’ll let it go until next time. Now show me. Where do you start? Breasts? Or do you just go for the gold?”
It was beginning to look as if I had no choice so I slid my fingers through my pubic hair until I found my clit. Despite my embarrassment, I was still fully aroused so it was hard and swollen. I rubbed lightly, still upset that he was watching.
Suddenly he got up and grabbed the goose-neck floor lamp from beside my bed. He moved it over and directed the light onto my slit. “I can’t see,” he said, still sounding really interested. I could feel the heat from the lamp on my soaked skin. Erotic isn’t a good enough word for the mixture of sensations: the heat, his eyes on me, my growing need.
Fuck. This was getting bad. However, now that I had my fingers in my wetness, I didn’t want to stop despite his watching. He peered at me as I moved my fingers slightly.
“Like that?” he said. “I’ll bet you move faster than that.” He reached over and raised my chin so I had to look at him. “Please, baby, do it for me.”
I let out a long sigh and gave in. I knew my body well and stroked it in just the ways that push me higher. As I rubbed, I felt his fingers join mine, mimicking my motions. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed it all. As I got closer to climax, I felt one of his fingers penetrate. “I want to feel you come,” he said.
“Yes,” I breathed, so far gone now there was nothing that would have slowed me down.
I felt the spasms start low in my belly and flow to my pussy. “God, I can feel it,” he said, his voice raspy. “Do it.”
I did. I let my orgasm take over and rubbed in all the spots that would make it better. The combination of his fingers playing with mine, and the knowledge that he was staring at me, pushed me over the edge. Like the times I insert a dildo into my pussy, his finger inside me allowed me to feel the contractions of my muscles and the twitch of my clit.
“God, baby,” Connor purred. “That’s so great.”
I slowly came down and my body relaxed, a thin rime of sweat cooling on my skin. It might have begun as something really strange, but now I accepted the fact that I had been really aroused by the knowledge that he was watching me. I wondered whether he’d feel the same way. I took several deep breaths. “Okay, your turn,” I said.
He let out a nervous chuckle. “You’re not serious.”
Got you, I thought. You’re as reluctant as I was. You’ll be so surprised. “A deal’s a deal. I said I’d show you mine if you’d show me yours.”
“A guy doesn’t do that. It’s silly. I want my cock inside of you when I come.”
“Too bad,” I said, enjoying his discomfort. What was there to be upset about after all? I’d seen him naked lots of times and he had a beautiful cock. I propped myself up on my pillows. “I’m ready for a show.”
“Come on,” he said, shaking his head. “You didn’t really mean that.”
“Of course I did.” This was going to be fun. “Now strip.”
He must have decided that I was serious so he stood and slowly removed his clothes. He really was gorgeous; great pecs, muscular arms, and narrow hips. His cock was only partly erect.
I patted the bed beside me and he sat. I directed the light on his crotch. “As you said, ‘Sauce for the goose and all that.’” I watched his cock twitch under the heat of the lamp. “Don’t touch yet,” I said. “I want to see what happens before.”
I gazed at him and licked my lips. It was amazing. I could watch his body react. I put one breast against his hand and that wonderful cock continued to swell. He played with my nipple, then I ran my fingernails up the inside of his thigh. His reaction was immediate. “Show me,” I said.
He let out a long breath, obviously now resigned.
He ran his fingers through my pussy to gather my wetness, then began to touch his cock. I saw his fingers curl around the hard rod and slide from base to tip. Then he used one finger to gather his precome and use the additional lubrication to assist his ministrations. His strokes ran the length of his cock and, remembering how good it had felt to have his fingers join mine, I placed my hand over his. A slight shiver echoed through his body.
Gradually his hand picked up the pace and I heard his breathing rate increase. His eyes closed and his head fell back. Faster and faster until, with a long groan, I saw semen spurt from his cock and dribble onto my hand and his.
After we cleaned up, he crawled in beside me and we curled into each other. For the first time, he stayed until the next morning.
After the Wedding
THE WEDDING AND ALL THE FESTIVITIES THAT LED UP TO it had been wonderful for many reasons. It had been great for Connie to see her old college roommate, Laura, again and to meet her fiancé and now-husband, Brett. Connie had introduced them to her yearlong live-in, Mark. The place was spectacular and the rehearsal dinner was filled with laughter and reminiscences. The small ceremony had taken place on the patio of an intimate little inn in the mountains with only four couples, an aunt and uncle of the groom, and Laura’s parents, who lived in a neighboring town, in attendance.
The dinner afterward was filled with more joy and several celebratory toasts. By the end of the meal, and the dancing that followed, Conn
ie was feeling quite mellow and Mark was his usual amorous self, being especially sexual after a few martinis.
Giggling, the newlyweds adjourned to their room around eleven and, after bidding everyone a good night, Mark and Connie followed a little while later. They stripped off their finery and, still in their underwear, stretched out on the big double bed to discuss the wedding. After only a few minutes, they discovered that they could hear what was going on in the next room, the one obviously occupied by the bridal couple.
“I can’t believe we’re truly married,” they heard Laura say. Her raspy voice was easy to recognize.
“And now we can fool around legally,” Brett replied.
There was a gasp and a giggle. “Brett, cut that out.”
“Why?” he said, eliciting another gasp.
“These walls aren’t very thick. I’m afraid anyone in the next room can hear.”
Connie looked at Mark, then whispered, “Should we let them know we’re listening?”
“Not a chance,” Mark said with a wink. “This is just too juicy.”
“Don’t you dare tease him tomorrow morning.”
Mark just winked again.
“It’s not up to you to wonder,” Brett said. “That’s my department.”
“Of course.”
“You didn’t say those words right, you know,” Brett growled.
“I’m sorry. Of course, sir.” There was a pause. “I’ll try to be better from now on.”
“What the hell is that all about?” Connie hissed.
Mark put his finger against his lips for silence.
“You’d better be,” Brett said.
Another giggle. “I’ll try harder.”
“That’s not good enough. I think, since it’s a special day, I’ll only give you five for your error.”
“Five what?” Connie whispered.
“Panties off,” they heard Brett say.
After a few moments, Connie heard a smack and her eyes widened. “Is he doing what I think he’s doing?” She was amazed and, surprisingly, aroused.
Hot Stories for Cold Nights Page 6