The Sculptor and his Muse Part One
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The Sculptor And His Muse - Part Two free porn video
Friday December 9th 1910
A little after 2pm.
Paris
I step outside into the alleyway. Lifting my head to the dark and cloudy sky, the now heavy snow hits me in the face like tiny needles. It confirms my awareness. The wind forming a sideways funnel of icy flakes in the alley feels good. I was burning up in there, not so much from the stove, but from watching her.
The recent turn of events makes me question my sanity. I walk back and forth not knowing what to do, checking my pocket watch.
“Damn, I'm wasting time,” I say to myself.
This may be a little scary, but it's also the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me. I need to relish every second I can, relish every moment with her before she's gone. Almost everything really good that happens to me is all too brief.
I work up my nerve and walk out of the alley and head to the edge of the windows facing out from my studio. Standing there for a moment I swallow deeply and walk to the entrance. Past the point of no return now. She probably can already see me.
Taking in another deep breath of cold air, I turn the doorknob and walk in wearing the most normal expression I can muster.
Heat hits me in the face full force from the stove. She's sitting on her pedestal just as she was when I stepped out like nothing even happened, other than her breathing a little harder.
“I'm sorry I took so long,” I tell her.
“That's okay. I like looking at all your sculptures and tools,” she says so innocently.
“Would you like me to crack a window? It's getting really hot in here. I have no way to turn the stove down.”
“That would be nice. I could use some air,” a look of relief crosses her face.
Me too, I think to myself.
I open the window and feel the cold air rush in bringing a few snowflakes with it. Walking across the room I open another to cause a draft.
“How's that?” I ask her.
“Much better,” she answers rather quickly.
When I return to my sculpture of her, my eyes lock on the whitish liquid she sprayed on it. She must have been unaware she hit the sculpture with it because she cleaned it from the floor and chair, but not there. When she's not looking I dab my finger in it, study it. I hold it to my nose, it has a musky smell, pleasant. I bring it to my mouth and taste it, almost a salty yet sweet taste.
She glances my direction again, almost catching me tasting her creamy liquid. I start working again feverishly, hoping she doesn't notice the erection growing again in my pants. I don't clean the strange liquid from the clay but work it in. I feel it infuses her into it. I won't be able to part with this piece.
An hour or so passes without a single word spoken until she lets me know her legs are growing stiff, stands up and walks to the front window to watch the occasional passerby.
I can hardly concentrate. I want to see her nakedness one more time and knowing the only thing keeping me from it is that solitary blanket. It is driving me mad. I so badly want to lift the blanket off of her, take her into my mouth while she wraps her body around me. I decide to join her at the window.
“You seem deep in thought. I know you're worried about your current situation, but things will work out. I will help in anyway,” I ask, but get cut off.
“No, I was thinking about something else. You are so good to me. I wish there was some way I could repay you for your kindness,” she smiles.
I almost touch her shoulder from behind, but restrain myself. I’m afraid I might lose control if I make contact with her. She turns around not realizing how close I am and almost walks straight into my lips with hers.
“So sorry,” I step back flustered.
When I step out of her path I inadvertently trap the blanket under my foot. Losing her grip she walks right out of it as it falls the floor. With a look of pure shock she turns, bends down mashing her bare breast against her legs and grabs the blanket covering herself quickly turning red from embarrassment.
Cursing myself under my breath I tell her how sorry I am for my clumsiness.
“I'm the one that is sorry. I should have had a firmer grip on the blanket. I hope you didn't find my nakedness insulting,” she says, embarrassed.
“By no means. You are the most fetching creature I have ever had the pleasure of seeing,” I tell her, feeling rather bold.
“You are too kind,” she says, relieved.
Grinning, she returns to the seat and assumes her original pose. I return to mine and continue sculpting, still hoping she doesn't notice the huge bulge in my pants.
We spend the rest of the day getting to know each other; who our favorite artists are, favorite plays, books, authors, and so on. We talk about the weather, some of the common people we know, and even the current fashions. It’s a great afternoon and my heart breaks that it must be so brief. I think I could spend the rest of my life with this creature.
By 6pm the sculpture is turning out really nice. Darkness approaches outside and with it, heavier snow. There must be three feet on the ground.
“It's getting late and I need to go home. You are more than welcome to stay as long as you like,” I tell her.
I want so badly to invite her to my house, but fear she would be insulted if I brought it up.
“I would be in poor shape or maybe worse by now if it wasn't for you,” she admits.
“There's enough wood in here for a week's worth of continuous burning. Just throw a piece in when you feel the slightest chill,” acting like I didn’t hear what she said.
I start cleaning and putting away my tools, spray and cover my clay, and throw another log into the fire to get her started for the night.
She stands up from her stool watching me busy myself with the task of closing shop.
“If you get hungry there's some food in the back. It's not much but will suffice,” I say, missing her already.
She almost looks sad that I'm leaving. She's probably just worried about being here by herself tonight, that's all. I don't want to leave her, but if I don't I'll be putting myself in a position where I might take advantage of her. I've already done enough, spying on her today. Truth be known, I'll cherish what I saw for the rest of my life.
Taking my coat from the coat rack, I put it on and wrap my scarf around my neck.
She walks to me being careful not to drop the blanket again with the innocent expression of a child trying to hide the fact that their feelings have been hurt, takes the scarf in her hands and ties it securely for me.
Our eyes meet and for a briefness that last an eternity, we gaze into each other eyes. She has a torn look on her face. Every fiber of my being wants to kiss her deeply, but again that would be taking advantage. What if she reconciles with her husband and I meet him by accident in the future? It would be trouble and could cause scandal.
With one last lingering gaze I turn and walk into the dark night. She bids me farewell.
“Please be careful in the snow. I'll see you in the morning,” she tells me.
I wave and walk on. The cold entering my nostrils burns my lungs. The snows faint glow gives everything a ghostly quality. It dulls all sounds, all I can hear are my strides and breathing along with the wind.
Within five minutes of leaving my studio, the wind picks up and the snow fall thickens to the point that it feels like my face has been stung a thousand times. My beard becomes ice.
My feet and hands grow numb. When my body begins feeling the warmth that is not warmth at all but death in disguise, I realize I'm not going to make it home. I must turn around. With resignation comes relief that I won't have to wait until morning to see her again.
I really need to live closer to my studio. I didn't realize how far I’ve walked lost in my thoughts. If it wasn't for the fact that I lived here so long, I imagine I would be quite lost at the moment. The snow has obscured everything to the point of almost being unrecognizable. Only because of the street lamps am I able to find my way back.
I see the lights from my studio away in the distance and check my pocket watch, damn, stopped working. It's colder than I thought.
Finally making it to the door I notice my hands are too numb to find my keys so I knock, not feeling the impact of the wooden door on my gloved hands.
The windows are covered in snow and ice, the light within warm nonetheless. I see her pleasant form cautiously approaching, obscured by the colds aftermath. Barely audible through the wind I hear her ask who it is, fear in her voice. I answer back, but my mouth only makes sounds, not words. She recognizes my voice and opens the door wearing a clean smock as a nightshirt, instantly dropping the poker from the stove, she was apparently going to use to throttle a stranger if given motive.
Taking one more step I fall, snowflakes make their way in, melting as soon as they touch the floor becoming tiny droplets of water. She catches me under my arms. She's strong for being so small. Putting my left arm behind her neck she drags me to the stove, scooting a stool in front of it with her foot, then maneuvering me onto it. She drags me in, shutting the door behind us with a push of her other foot. The screaming wind outside almost sounds insulted as it closes.
The fire feels good. I still can't feel my hands and feet, but know that I'm going to be okay. The ice and snow on my clothing becomes liquid, dripping all over the floor and soaking me to the core making me shiver even more.
“We've got to get you out of those wet clothes before you catch your death,” she says with a furrowed brow.
With those words said she goes to the task of disrobing me. I'm unable to protest, still numb from the cold. As she’s leaning over me, unbuttoning my coat, I catch brief glimpses of her breast and even her nipples. How can I be noticing this in my current state? Even on the brink of freezing my blood heats up and I feel my manhood stir. At some points, her face is so close to mine I'm tempted to kiss her sweet lips and breath in her sweet breath.
My coat is the first article of clothing she wrestles off of me, next is my shoes, which I'm pretty sure are ruined. My shirt gives her less trouble and when she gets it off she places it over one of the various chairs to dry out by the heat of the stove.
All I'm wearing now are my pants and undergarment and wondering if she's going to stop there, then she grabs my belt and unclasps it, reaching for my pants and buttons, undoing them. They cling to me as she pulls, but finally gives little by little. As she gets them down to mid-thigh she becomes aware of my embarrassment. Even in my frozen state I have a massive erection that my wet, clinging underwear does little to conceal. Pretending not to notice, she wraps the blanket around me she wore today while posing for me.
“You can pull your wet undergarment off without feeling embarrassed now,” she says.
Doing so with the blanket still around me, I set them with my other clothes on the chair. Feeling much better already, but still cold, I walk back to my original position in front of the fire. Trying to walk in such a way that my erection remains concealed. I know she saw it, but she doesn't need to know I still have it.
Already I'm thawing, absorbing the heat through the dry blanket. Before long all that is wet on me is my hair as the numbness in my extremities turns to tingling, then that is even gone, leaving me with a slight case of the shakes.
My breathing subsides and all that can be heard is the water dripping from my clothes hanging in front of the flame, the cold wind blowing outside. What a lonely sound it is.
I eventually realize we haven’t spoke in quite sometime and become insecure about it. Before the silence strangles me, I clear my throat to speak and Autumn cuts me off.
“How dare you traipse out in the cold the way you did. You men think yourselves indestructible at times. Look at you now. If you had been but a few more moments out there you would be done for and buried without so much as a wake for your passing. Is that how you see yourself going?” She says angrily.
At that moment, totally out of character for me I lean in and kiss her on the lips, those sweet tasting lips. She protests, her angry voice muffled by my mouth, until she wraps her arms around me and grabs two fistfuls of my hair from behind. Her protests turn to moans, low at first as she pushes into me.
We kiss and embrace as the snow outside turns to sleet, sounding like sand hitting the windows. For a brief-forever we are the only two people in the universe. I love this girl, I knew it the moment I first saw her wrapped in that blanket earlier today.
We kiss like we are starving and our only sustenance is each other. I taste her sweet tastes. Our tongues explore each other's and our hands roam.
Getting lost in the moment, I didn't realize my blanket had fell open in the front. My hardness is exposed and pressed up against her clothed belly, touching the bottoms of her breast. If not for the smock the head would be between them. Realizing this makes me harder.
Breaking our kiss she looks down seeing me exposed from the front, the blanket open all the way to the floor. Tucking her hands under the cover at my shoulders, she pushes it off, it falls to the floor silently around my feet.
Stepping back a couple of feet, she looks at my me from head to toe and back again. I'm so hard now my dick is bobbing in the air with a heartbeat of it's own. Feeling embarrassed I try to cover it with my hands.
“Please don't. It's magnificent. You're beautiful,” she says, and continues to gaze upon me.
She is so different than any girl I have met. I've never known one to speak the way she does.
Reaching up to the straps of her smock, she slides her arms through, still holding it up in the front, exposing only the pink outer edges of her nipples. She steps back to me.
I wrap my arms around her, embracing her tight, wrapping hers around me, the only thing holding the smock up is our two bodies pressed together.
Tracing the indention of her spine down to her round ass, I squeeze making her shudder. Rubbing it gently as she raises her leg to allow me entrance. I begin to slide my hands under thick cloth covering her to reach her moistness when she stops me. With a look of resignation she pulls back. She covers my eyes with her hand and I hear the smock drop as she steps back.
Damn, I've never been this excited. The tip of my dick feels sensitive to the cold air, I'm dripping with desire. When the bare skin of her stomach makes contact with it, I feel the slickness of my excitement sliding on it. I must calm down, lest I cum prematurely, embarrassing myself and seeming an adolescent.
Tenderly kissing me once more on my lips, she slides down my neck, chest, then stomach, kissing every inch of me. Looking down at her, the light from the stove catches her curves as her nipples brush my skin. The fire gives her skin an auburn hue, goosebumps are visible despite its heat. Kissing above the base of my cock, then all around it, my thighs, hips, and stomach. I still fight the urge to cum. She's driving me wild. She stops and gazes upon me, studying me almost, then takes it in her hands gently. Moving it from side to side almost like she's admiring it and the shadows formed by the light.
“It's glorious,” she says. Then kisses the head so lightly. I can see a string of my liquid stretch from it to her lips as she looks up at me to smile her innocent smile.
I almost lose control wanting to grab her head and pull her back to me, but I don't.
She looks at it again, grabbing the base and running up to the head, then down again. She’s rubbing her pussy. I can't see it, but can hear the wet sounds.
I must be dreaming. She acts as no other.
Kissing the tip again, she takes the head into her mouth, then more ever slowly, then more. Rubbing her clit faster, taking half of me into her mouth, then pulls back again. Squeezing the base and running her hand up to her mouth, she sucks it hard then lets it fall out with a popping sound. Getting to her feet again and stepping back almost ten feet, then setting on a stool.
“Will you hold it for me?” She says.
“What?” Wondering if I heard her correctly.
“I want to see you holding it. What it looks like in your hands,” studying me, taking every detail in.
I don't know what to say. It seems so awkward.
“Please?” She asks, looking almost innocent.
I reach down and take the base of it in my hand reluctantly.
“Yes, will you squeeze it for me?” Her voice almost a whisper.
Embarrassed I do as she says.
“That's nice. Will you squeeze it all the way to the tip slowly, please?” She asks.
I do it again, working it to the head.
A shallow moan escapes her lips. She starts rubbing her clit again while staring intently at my dick. “Please, don't stop. You're a beautiful man. This is very exciting. I want to remember this forever in every detail,” she says, getting more excited.
The only sounds I can hear is the wind and sleet outside, the popping of the fire, but under all that, the wet sound of her fingers rubbing her folds and her faint moans. I can see her breasts rocking with the movement.
Without realizing it, I've done what she's requested of me, I’m pumping faster, matching her own rhythm.
Her expression changes from the beautiful angel I adore to one given over to her desires, still beautiful but also very lusty, desperate, and driven. She wants to cum and I believe she’s lost the control to stop it. Her pace quickens and she bites her bottom lip. A few more minutes pass and she’s rocking and moaning loudly. She almost looks like she is going to cry.
“I’m sorry. I can’t wait any longer. I have to cum. I can’t stop it now and I’m dying for you to watch me. Is that okay, please?” she moans desperately.
Curling her legs up off the floor to her shoulders. The movement causes enough pressure that her pussy spills down her ass cheek.
Her words excite me to the point that I let go of my cock, I don’t want to cum yet. I walk to her, dick bouncing with each step, glistening on the end.
“What are you doing?” She asks.
“You need to cum love and I want you do it on me.” I tell her.
“I can’t, not on you,” still rubbing her pussy furiously.
“Please,” I beg.
Her expression changes. She looks like she’s silently screaming. “I can’t stop, please get out to the way, I’m cumming.”
Placing her feet back on the floor, she spreads her legs wider than before, lifting her ass off the stool. “Please, move,” she pleads.
I feel my eyes focus with intensity. I can’t wait. I saw it earlier, but now I get to see it close as she sprays me. It’s so arousing she’s worried about cumming on me, but at the same time can’t stop masturbating, she’s too worked up and lost in the act.
She stops. Her eyes go wide, then closes them as she grits her teeth and cums. A little trickle at first, then a huge gush, spraying me in the face and chest. So hot I almost can’t feel its wetness. She sprays me again with the same force, then a little less, and a little less, until it subsides to a trickle again.
Looking at me in shock, tears following, she finally breathes again. All goes quiet. God, I adore this fetching creature.
“Why did you let me do that?” She asks guiltily.
“I wanted to feel it on me. I wanted you to shower me with it, so hot and wet, to be coated with it,” I admit.
“Most find it disgusting,” she shrugs.
“Not me my dear. I love it,” I admit.
She jumps off the stool, running at me, wrapping her arms around me and kissing me hard.
“I could fall for you so easily. You’re so kind, so handsome and so,” grabbing my dick, “so sexy, so hung.”
As soon as her hand makes contact with my hardness I stop breathing and my body tightens up. The heat I felt before becomes white hot and cold at the same time. I feel my eyes go wide, I’m about to cum.
“Oh baby, you need to cum so bad. You’re aching. Please cum for me,” her expression so sweet
I scoot back out of her grasp to catch my breath “Please let me gather myself, not yet. I want to savor this...” not finishing my sentence.
“Let me help you. We have the rest of the night. You can cum now, then again later if you wish. I want to make you feel good, better than you ever have. If not for you, then do it for me. Please. It’s your turn to cum on me,” she begs.
Spreading my legs, she kisses me again on the mouth then moves down my chest to my writhing cock again. Holding it at the base with one hand and rubbing the wet tip with the other. She kisses it so lovingly while looking at me, then rubs it on her lips. Parting her mouth ever so slightly, she pushes just the head in and gently sucks it. It feels so good. I’ve never felt anything like it.
“I know you’re not going to last long, that’s okay. It’s what I want. I want you to cum on my mouth or face, wherever you like. I just want you to cum baby. You’ll be able to do it again later and even last longer if that’s what you’re worried about. Please, I need this, okay.”
Losing all control I push it into her mouth about an inch past the head.
“Mmm, yes, do it!” She slides her lips all the way to my balls and back up again, her spit all over it glistening. Wrapping both hands around it she pumps with just the head in her mouth, sucking and kissing. “Don’t try to stretch it out, just cum,” she pleads.
“I’m already about to!” I admit.
“Oh god, yes. Do it. I can feel it. You’re so hard. It’s twitching. You’re aching so bad for it. Cum baby. CUM FOR ME, PLEASE!” She screams, pumping her hand at a blinding pace.
I’ve never felt anything like it. My ears go silent for a moment, then I see stars. My dick and lower extremities tighten then go numb, then release. I cum. I cum harder than I ever have. I can barely stay conscious. The first gush shoots deep down her throat, the second is too much and drips out the sides of her mouth and down her chin, on the third she pulls it out and lets it spew into her face and hair, the fourth on her tits and stomach, and the next few she takes again in her mouth. She pumps with her head and all I can hear is her swallowing my load and the wet sound of my dick going in and out of her mouth.
She’s so magnificent.
When I’m finally done she lets it slide out. “You are so incredible, that was incredible. You came so hard and so much. It was so thick. You’re just incredible,” she sounds relieved.
Her face and body are covered in my cum. Mine covered in hers. We roll up together in the blanket on the floor to catch our breath and enjoy each others warmth. Wondering how the night could possibly get any better.
to be continued...
A little after 2pm.
Paris
I step outside into the alleyway. Lifting my head to the dark and cloudy sky, the now heavy snow hits me in the face like tiny needles. It confirms my awareness. The wind forming a sideways funnel of icy flakes in the alley feels good. I was burning up in there, not so much from the stove, but from watching her.
The recent turn of events makes me question my sanity. I walk back and forth not knowing what to do, checking my pocket watch.
“Damn, I'm wasting time,” I say to myself.
This may be a little scary, but it's also the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me. I need to relish every second I can, relish every moment with her before she's gone. Almost everything really good that happens to me is all too brief.
I work up my nerve and walk out of the alley and head to the edge of the windows facing out from my studio. Standing there for a moment I swallow deeply and walk to the entrance. Past the point of no return now. She probably can already see me.
Taking in another deep breath of cold air, I turn the doorknob and walk in wearing the most normal expression I can muster.
Heat hits me in the face full force from the stove. She's sitting on her pedestal just as she was when I stepped out like nothing even happened, other than her breathing a little harder.
“I'm sorry I took so long,” I tell her.
“That's okay. I like looking at all your sculptures and tools,” she says so innocently.
“Would you like me to crack a window? It's getting really hot in here. I have no way to turn the stove down.”
“That would be nice. I could use some air,” a look of relief crosses her face.
Me too, I think to myself.
I open the window and feel the cold air rush in bringing a few snowflakes with it. Walking across the room I open another to cause a draft.
“How's that?” I ask her.
“Much better,” she answers rather quickly.
When I return to my sculpture of her, my eyes lock on the whitish liquid she sprayed on it. She must have been unaware she hit the sculpture with it because she cleaned it from the floor and chair, but not there. When she's not looking I dab my finger in it, study it. I hold it to my nose, it has a musky smell, pleasant. I bring it to my mouth and taste it, almost a salty yet sweet taste.
She glances my direction again, almost catching me tasting her creamy liquid. I start working again feverishly, hoping she doesn't notice the erection growing again in my pants. I don't clean the strange liquid from the clay but work it in. I feel it infuses her into it. I won't be able to part with this piece.
An hour or so passes without a single word spoken until she lets me know her legs are growing stiff, stands up and walks to the front window to watch the occasional passerby.
I can hardly concentrate. I want to see her nakedness one more time and knowing the only thing keeping me from it is that solitary blanket. It is driving me mad. I so badly want to lift the blanket off of her, take her into my mouth while she wraps her body around me. I decide to join her at the window.
“You seem deep in thought. I know you're worried about your current situation, but things will work out. I will help in anyway,” I ask, but get cut off.
“No, I was thinking about something else. You are so good to me. I wish there was some way I could repay you for your kindness,” she smiles.
I almost touch her shoulder from behind, but restrain myself. I’m afraid I might lose control if I make contact with her. She turns around not realizing how close I am and almost walks straight into my lips with hers.
“So sorry,” I step back flustered.
When I step out of her path I inadvertently trap the blanket under my foot. Losing her grip she walks right out of it as it falls the floor. With a look of pure shock she turns, bends down mashing her bare breast against her legs and grabs the blanket covering herself quickly turning red from embarrassment.
Cursing myself under my breath I tell her how sorry I am for my clumsiness.
“I'm the one that is sorry. I should have had a firmer grip on the blanket. I hope you didn't find my nakedness insulting,” she says, embarrassed.
“By no means. You are the most fetching creature I have ever had the pleasure of seeing,” I tell her, feeling rather bold.
“You are too kind,” she says, relieved.
Grinning, she returns to the seat and assumes her original pose. I return to mine and continue sculpting, still hoping she doesn't notice the huge bulge in my pants.
We spend the rest of the day getting to know each other; who our favorite artists are, favorite plays, books, authors, and so on. We talk about the weather, some of the common people we know, and even the current fashions. It’s a great afternoon and my heart breaks that it must be so brief. I think I could spend the rest of my life with this creature.
By 6pm the sculpture is turning out really nice. Darkness approaches outside and with it, heavier snow. There must be three feet on the ground.
“It's getting late and I need to go home. You are more than welcome to stay as long as you like,” I tell her.
I want so badly to invite her to my house, but fear she would be insulted if I brought it up.
“I would be in poor shape or maybe worse by now if it wasn't for you,” she admits.
“There's enough wood in here for a week's worth of continuous burning. Just throw a piece in when you feel the slightest chill,” acting like I didn’t hear what she said.
I start cleaning and putting away my tools, spray and cover my clay, and throw another log into the fire to get her started for the night.
She stands up from her stool watching me busy myself with the task of closing shop.
“If you get hungry there's some food in the back. It's not much but will suffice,” I say, missing her already.
She almost looks sad that I'm leaving. She's probably just worried about being here by herself tonight, that's all. I don't want to leave her, but if I don't I'll be putting myself in a position where I might take advantage of her. I've already done enough, spying on her today. Truth be known, I'll cherish what I saw for the rest of my life.
Taking my coat from the coat rack, I put it on and wrap my scarf around my neck.
She walks to me being careful not to drop the blanket again with the innocent expression of a child trying to hide the fact that their feelings have been hurt, takes the scarf in her hands and ties it securely for me.
Our eyes meet and for a briefness that last an eternity, we gaze into each other eyes. She has a torn look on her face. Every fiber of my being wants to kiss her deeply, but again that would be taking advantage. What if she reconciles with her husband and I meet him by accident in the future? It would be trouble and could cause scandal.
With one last lingering gaze I turn and walk into the dark night. She bids me farewell.
“Please be careful in the snow. I'll see you in the morning,” she tells me.
I wave and walk on. The cold entering my nostrils burns my lungs. The snows faint glow gives everything a ghostly quality. It dulls all sounds, all I can hear are my strides and breathing along with the wind.
Within five minutes of leaving my studio, the wind picks up and the snow fall thickens to the point that it feels like my face has been stung a thousand times. My beard becomes ice.
My feet and hands grow numb. When my body begins feeling the warmth that is not warmth at all but death in disguise, I realize I'm not going to make it home. I must turn around. With resignation comes relief that I won't have to wait until morning to see her again.
I really need to live closer to my studio. I didn't realize how far I’ve walked lost in my thoughts. If it wasn't for the fact that I lived here so long, I imagine I would be quite lost at the moment. The snow has obscured everything to the point of almost being unrecognizable. Only because of the street lamps am I able to find my way back.
I see the lights from my studio away in the distance and check my pocket watch, damn, stopped working. It's colder than I thought.
Finally making it to the door I notice my hands are too numb to find my keys so I knock, not feeling the impact of the wooden door on my gloved hands.
The windows are covered in snow and ice, the light within warm nonetheless. I see her pleasant form cautiously approaching, obscured by the colds aftermath. Barely audible through the wind I hear her ask who it is, fear in her voice. I answer back, but my mouth only makes sounds, not words. She recognizes my voice and opens the door wearing a clean smock as a nightshirt, instantly dropping the poker from the stove, she was apparently going to use to throttle a stranger if given motive.
Taking one more step I fall, snowflakes make their way in, melting as soon as they touch the floor becoming tiny droplets of water. She catches me under my arms. She's strong for being so small. Putting my left arm behind her neck she drags me to the stove, scooting a stool in front of it with her foot, then maneuvering me onto it. She drags me in, shutting the door behind us with a push of her other foot. The screaming wind outside almost sounds insulted as it closes.
The fire feels good. I still can't feel my hands and feet, but know that I'm going to be okay. The ice and snow on my clothing becomes liquid, dripping all over the floor and soaking me to the core making me shiver even more.
“We've got to get you out of those wet clothes before you catch your death,” she says with a furrowed brow.
With those words said she goes to the task of disrobing me. I'm unable to protest, still numb from the cold. As she’s leaning over me, unbuttoning my coat, I catch brief glimpses of her breast and even her nipples. How can I be noticing this in my current state? Even on the brink of freezing my blood heats up and I feel my manhood stir. At some points, her face is so close to mine I'm tempted to kiss her sweet lips and breath in her sweet breath.
My coat is the first article of clothing she wrestles off of me, next is my shoes, which I'm pretty sure are ruined. My shirt gives her less trouble and when she gets it off she places it over one of the various chairs to dry out by the heat of the stove.
All I'm wearing now are my pants and undergarment and wondering if she's going to stop there, then she grabs my belt and unclasps it, reaching for my pants and buttons, undoing them. They cling to me as she pulls, but finally gives little by little. As she gets them down to mid-thigh she becomes aware of my embarrassment. Even in my frozen state I have a massive erection that my wet, clinging underwear does little to conceal. Pretending not to notice, she wraps the blanket around me she wore today while posing for me.
“You can pull your wet undergarment off without feeling embarrassed now,” she says.
Doing so with the blanket still around me, I set them with my other clothes on the chair. Feeling much better already, but still cold, I walk back to my original position in front of the fire. Trying to walk in such a way that my erection remains concealed. I know she saw it, but she doesn't need to know I still have it.
Already I'm thawing, absorbing the heat through the dry blanket. Before long all that is wet on me is my hair as the numbness in my extremities turns to tingling, then that is even gone, leaving me with a slight case of the shakes.
My breathing subsides and all that can be heard is the water dripping from my clothes hanging in front of the flame, the cold wind blowing outside. What a lonely sound it is.
I eventually realize we haven’t spoke in quite sometime and become insecure about it. Before the silence strangles me, I clear my throat to speak and Autumn cuts me off.
“How dare you traipse out in the cold the way you did. You men think yourselves indestructible at times. Look at you now. If you had been but a few more moments out there you would be done for and buried without so much as a wake for your passing. Is that how you see yourself going?” She says angrily.
At that moment, totally out of character for me I lean in and kiss her on the lips, those sweet tasting lips. She protests, her angry voice muffled by my mouth, until she wraps her arms around me and grabs two fistfuls of my hair from behind. Her protests turn to moans, low at first as she pushes into me.
We kiss and embrace as the snow outside turns to sleet, sounding like sand hitting the windows. For a brief-forever we are the only two people in the universe. I love this girl, I knew it the moment I first saw her wrapped in that blanket earlier today.
We kiss like we are starving and our only sustenance is each other. I taste her sweet tastes. Our tongues explore each other's and our hands roam.
Getting lost in the moment, I didn't realize my blanket had fell open in the front. My hardness is exposed and pressed up against her clothed belly, touching the bottoms of her breast. If not for the smock the head would be between them. Realizing this makes me harder.
Breaking our kiss she looks down seeing me exposed from the front, the blanket open all the way to the floor. Tucking her hands under the cover at my shoulders, she pushes it off, it falls to the floor silently around my feet.
Stepping back a couple of feet, she looks at my me from head to toe and back again. I'm so hard now my dick is bobbing in the air with a heartbeat of it's own. Feeling embarrassed I try to cover it with my hands.
“Please don't. It's magnificent. You're beautiful,” she says, and continues to gaze upon me.
She is so different than any girl I have met. I've never known one to speak the way she does.
Reaching up to the straps of her smock, she slides her arms through, still holding it up in the front, exposing only the pink outer edges of her nipples. She steps back to me.
I wrap my arms around her, embracing her tight, wrapping hers around me, the only thing holding the smock up is our two bodies pressed together.
Tracing the indention of her spine down to her round ass, I squeeze making her shudder. Rubbing it gently as she raises her leg to allow me entrance. I begin to slide my hands under thick cloth covering her to reach her moistness when she stops me. With a look of resignation she pulls back. She covers my eyes with her hand and I hear the smock drop as she steps back.
Damn, I've never been this excited. The tip of my dick feels sensitive to the cold air, I'm dripping with desire. When the bare skin of her stomach makes contact with it, I feel the slickness of my excitement sliding on it. I must calm down, lest I cum prematurely, embarrassing myself and seeming an adolescent.
Tenderly kissing me once more on my lips, she slides down my neck, chest, then stomach, kissing every inch of me. Looking down at her, the light from the stove catches her curves as her nipples brush my skin. The fire gives her skin an auburn hue, goosebumps are visible despite its heat. Kissing above the base of my cock, then all around it, my thighs, hips, and stomach. I still fight the urge to cum. She's driving me wild. She stops and gazes upon me, studying me almost, then takes it in her hands gently. Moving it from side to side almost like she's admiring it and the shadows formed by the light.
“It's glorious,” she says. Then kisses the head so lightly. I can see a string of my liquid stretch from it to her lips as she looks up at me to smile her innocent smile.
I almost lose control wanting to grab her head and pull her back to me, but I don't.
She looks at it again, grabbing the base and running up to the head, then down again. She’s rubbing her pussy. I can't see it, but can hear the wet sounds.
I must be dreaming. She acts as no other.
Kissing the tip again, she takes the head into her mouth, then more ever slowly, then more. Rubbing her clit faster, taking half of me into her mouth, then pulls back again. Squeezing the base and running her hand up to her mouth, she sucks it hard then lets it fall out with a popping sound. Getting to her feet again and stepping back almost ten feet, then setting on a stool.
“Will you hold it for me?” She says.
“What?” Wondering if I heard her correctly.
“I want to see you holding it. What it looks like in your hands,” studying me, taking every detail in.
I don't know what to say. It seems so awkward.
“Please?” She asks, looking almost innocent.
I reach down and take the base of it in my hand reluctantly.
“Yes, will you squeeze it for me?” Her voice almost a whisper.
Embarrassed I do as she says.
“That's nice. Will you squeeze it all the way to the tip slowly, please?” She asks.
I do it again, working it to the head.
A shallow moan escapes her lips. She starts rubbing her clit again while staring intently at my dick. “Please, don't stop. You're a beautiful man. This is very exciting. I want to remember this forever in every detail,” she says, getting more excited.
The only sounds I can hear is the wind and sleet outside, the popping of the fire, but under all that, the wet sound of her fingers rubbing her folds and her faint moans. I can see her breasts rocking with the movement.
Without realizing it, I've done what she's requested of me, I’m pumping faster, matching her own rhythm.
Her expression changes from the beautiful angel I adore to one given over to her desires, still beautiful but also very lusty, desperate, and driven. She wants to cum and I believe she’s lost the control to stop it. Her pace quickens and she bites her bottom lip. A few more minutes pass and she’s rocking and moaning loudly. She almost looks like she is going to cry.
“I’m sorry. I can’t wait any longer. I have to cum. I can’t stop it now and I’m dying for you to watch me. Is that okay, please?” she moans desperately.
Curling her legs up off the floor to her shoulders. The movement causes enough pressure that her pussy spills down her ass cheek.
Her words excite me to the point that I let go of my cock, I don’t want to cum yet. I walk to her, dick bouncing with each step, glistening on the end.
“What are you doing?” She asks.
“You need to cum love and I want you do it on me.” I tell her.
“I can’t, not on you,” still rubbing her pussy furiously.
“Please,” I beg.
Her expression changes. She looks like she’s silently screaming. “I can’t stop, please get out to the way, I’m cumming.”
Placing her feet back on the floor, she spreads her legs wider than before, lifting her ass off the stool. “Please, move,” she pleads.
I feel my eyes focus with intensity. I can’t wait. I saw it earlier, but now I get to see it close as she sprays me. It’s so arousing she’s worried about cumming on me, but at the same time can’t stop masturbating, she’s too worked up and lost in the act.
She stops. Her eyes go wide, then closes them as she grits her teeth and cums. A little trickle at first, then a huge gush, spraying me in the face and chest. So hot I almost can’t feel its wetness. She sprays me again with the same force, then a little less, and a little less, until it subsides to a trickle again.
Looking at me in shock, tears following, she finally breathes again. All goes quiet. God, I adore this fetching creature.
“Why did you let me do that?” She asks guiltily.
“I wanted to feel it on me. I wanted you to shower me with it, so hot and wet, to be coated with it,” I admit.
“Most find it disgusting,” she shrugs.
“Not me my dear. I love it,” I admit.
She jumps off the stool, running at me, wrapping her arms around me and kissing me hard.
“I could fall for you so easily. You’re so kind, so handsome and so,” grabbing my dick, “so sexy, so hung.”
As soon as her hand makes contact with my hardness I stop breathing and my body tightens up. The heat I felt before becomes white hot and cold at the same time. I feel my eyes go wide, I’m about to cum.
“Oh baby, you need to cum so bad. You’re aching. Please cum for me,” her expression so sweet
I scoot back out of her grasp to catch my breath “Please let me gather myself, not yet. I want to savor this...” not finishing my sentence.
“Let me help you. We have the rest of the night. You can cum now, then again later if you wish. I want to make you feel good, better than you ever have. If not for you, then do it for me. Please. It’s your turn to cum on me,” she begs.
Spreading my legs, she kisses me again on the mouth then moves down my chest to my writhing cock again. Holding it at the base with one hand and rubbing the wet tip with the other. She kisses it so lovingly while looking at me, then rubs it on her lips. Parting her mouth ever so slightly, she pushes just the head in and gently sucks it. It feels so good. I’ve never felt anything like it.
“I know you’re not going to last long, that’s okay. It’s what I want. I want you to cum on my mouth or face, wherever you like. I just want you to cum baby. You’ll be able to do it again later and even last longer if that’s what you’re worried about. Please, I need this, okay.”
Losing all control I push it into her mouth about an inch past the head.
“Mmm, yes, do it!” She slides her lips all the way to my balls and back up again, her spit all over it glistening. Wrapping both hands around it she pumps with just the head in her mouth, sucking and kissing. “Don’t try to stretch it out, just cum,” she pleads.
“I’m already about to!” I admit.
“Oh god, yes. Do it. I can feel it. You’re so hard. It’s twitching. You’re aching so bad for it. Cum baby. CUM FOR ME, PLEASE!” She screams, pumping her hand at a blinding pace.
I’ve never felt anything like it. My ears go silent for a moment, then I see stars. My dick and lower extremities tighten then go numb, then release. I cum. I cum harder than I ever have. I can barely stay conscious. The first gush shoots deep down her throat, the second is too much and drips out the sides of her mouth and down her chin, on the third she pulls it out and lets it spew into her face and hair, the fourth on her tits and stomach, and the next few she takes again in her mouth. She pumps with her head and all I can hear is her swallowing my load and the wet sound of my dick going in and out of her mouth.
She’s so magnificent.
When I’m finally done she lets it slide out. “You are so incredible, that was incredible. You came so hard and so much. It was so thick. You’re just incredible,” she sounds relieved.
Her face and body are covered in my cum. Mine covered in hers. We roll up together in the blanket on the floor to catch our breath and enjoy each others warmth. Wondering how the night could possibly get any better.
to be continued...
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