adult, erotic fiction, erotica, explicit, fantasy, masturbation, mature, personal, self-pleasuring, sex, winter
I wrote this little piece years and years ago for a contest on Literotica.com. I didn’t win, but the story was well-received by the readers and scored pretty high for what it is, I think. With the weather turning colder, it seemed appropriate to re-post here.
I’m going to be all alone later tonight, and I really don’t mind. It’s going to be cold later, and it’s already started to snow, so I’m going to get a fire started in the woodstove and devote some time to the thoughts of you that I’ve been unable to get out of my mind all week long.
The wood for the fire is dry and it doesn’t take long for it to get blazing hot, too hot in fact to wear much of anything. I sink into a comfortable chair and watch the fire, and as the coals glow redder and redder, I find it too warm for the long pants and flannel shirt I’ve had on all day. I strip, shedding my clothes in a pile and wrap up in a warm crocheted afghan that hangs over the back of the chair. There’s something so sensual and sexy to me about being naked and wrapped in a soft blanket.
I close my eyes and call up one of many, many images I have of your beautiful, big, hard cock. You’re lying on a bed watching a movie, your right hand stroking your dick with firm, powerful strokes. I think of you watching me, and I spread my legs, draping them over the arms of the deep easy chair. The heat of the fire hits my bare pussy and I reach down to find it already wet, fueled by your cock and the anticipation of my own expert touch.
I lean my head back and sink deep into the cushions, my skin ruddy in the glow of the hot fire, my fingers cool on the fevered skin. I spread myself wide, the lips opening, blooming, eager for my fingers. I dip one finger into my moist center and clutch at it, my muscles grabbing to pull it deeper inside. Two fingers go in, and I stroke the hole gently, slowly, my hips undulating with the joy of being fingered.
I run my wet fingers inside my smooth, pink slit. It’s slippery, and I tease my aching clit, rubbing it lightly–too lightly for any satisfaction. I thrust unwillingly against my hand, as if my pelvis can coerce my hand into giving away it’s pleasure.
I imagine what it would be like to have you sitting near me, hearing your breathing as you stroke your own hard cock, teasing it, watching as my shining fingers slide in and out and all over my pussy. Would you be content to watch? Would I?
Both hands toy with my cunt, and fingers thoroughly wetted, I reach for my diamond-hard nipples. One hand skims over my belly and finds the darkened points of my enlarged tits. I moan as I pinch the sensitive skin firmly and again with the other hand I plunge two fingers, three this time into my soaked hole. My tits ache as I pull the nipples, first one, then the other, stroking them firmly between my fingers. Always I’m seeing you in my head, your hips thrusting as you watch me fucking myself with my hand. Your dick is shiny, the head wet with pre-cum, and I ache to lick it clean, but I stay where I am and concentrate on my own pleasure.
My mouth is open, my lips wet, my breath coming faster. Outside the snow falls silently, but my skin is shining and damp from perspiration brought on by the scalding heat of the wood fire and my lust for you. My legs are spread as far as they’ll go, and my fingering brings me to the brink of a quick but powerful orgasm.
I cry out as my hips thrust forward, engulfing most of my hand in my pussy and swallowing it as the spasms hit, thundering deep inside. The muscles of my soaked cunt clench and unclench, and I shudder at the delightful pleasure of the orgasm shooting through every limb. I urge you to come too, willing it, watching in my mind’s eye as your eyes close, your head falls back, and you find your own silent fulfillment, your cum shooting in hot jets over your hand and legs. You shudder and breathe deeply as your grip relaxes, and your cock slips wetly against your hot, bare thigh…