Christmas Eve

Christmas is a wonderful time of year. For me, it makes for good clean fun reminiscent of childhood days when all you could think about doing was playing and playing and playing some more with the gifts received prior to the big day and those bestowed on us thereafter. Christmas time was a time for expressions of love, through a feast of fruit cake, ham, gungo peas rice and peas, sorrel drink, potato salad, homemade macaroni and cheese…and in my household….nuff, nuff alcohol.

I grew up and added to the old traditions, the act of sex. Sex should be engaged in every day leading up to the big day, provided you have good health and strength. On the night of Christmas Eve, sleep should only be had after 4 full hours of lovemaking, one of the only truly ‘free’ mutually beneficial gifts you can give each other in this time……at least, that’s how Christmas used to be.

My Christmas Eve was spent in the arms of an Ex with whom I am hopelessly enamored. He carries my heart and pussy in his hands, and he knows it. Our feeble attempts at friendships, bredrendom, never really bear good fruit cause close proximity leads to error deeds. This motha fucka can transform his hands into surgical tools which injects wave upon wave of pleasure through your skin to your core. Raw emotion filled sex which curls your toes, raises your body temperature, unravels all your defenses, strips you of your cares but for the sating of an animal need…..this man has “It” whatever ‘It’ is, and he uses it so well. He can remove the stress of the world from your shoulders and make you thankful for the blessings he gives. This man needed no invitation to touch your soul with his hot breath on your skin as he teases, and coaxes your nipples into rigid peaks, with his tongue and teeth. With this kinda man you pay for a “Beowolf” type rescue to avoid your retreating into stupidity.

Its amazing how two people can be so compatible sexually but such failures at the other parts of the relationship institution.

We started with an agreement not to let it get too far and since our history had determined that he was more likely the rock which could conform to such a commitment, I was comfortable with the deal. It wasn’t until I was absorbed by a backrub from those long fingers that my focus shifted from platonic interaction to something much, much more erotic. With each stroke of his hands across my back I trembled for his touch. My uncontrolled gyration as he hit the right spot with the pressure of his thumbs cemented my doom. He traced the line of my spine down to the small of my back, and commenced a slow, soothing kneading of my ass. The small fire in the pit of my stomach graduated very quickly to full strength bringing with it full realization of my need to fuck this man.

With this in mind I didn’t resist him prompting me to turn over; I counted to ten as his lips covered my nipples, I lost track of counting when his hand traced the outline of my pussy through the cotton tights; I tried my damnedest to not give in when he replaced his hand with his mouth…….I really tried. But I am only human, the weaker sex at that, I caved in and savoured his body like a draw of good weed. I slowly enticed him to grow harder, kissing every inch of him until he dragged me from my knees and spread my legs to taste my sweet. The coarseness of his tongue against the delicate flesh was orgasmic but I resisted the need to cum at that moment. I wanted him to spend some time on me, to touch me as if we were still a “We”, and he delivered like the fucker he is.

He whispered instructions for me to cum in his mouth and that was simply too fine a request to deny….so I straddled his face, easing a sensitive already swollen clit down to the warmth of his eager lips. He moaned as he licked the length of my outer lips, the taste of me too much to take without verbal confirmation of his enjoyment. I held my nerve and stayed the course well I think as I rode his face and listened to enchanting sounds of saliva, pussy juice, an engorged clit all in the hands of a connoisseur.

In between my own moans I stole looks down at the source of all my pleasure and found his eyes wide open enjoying my reaction to each stroke. A smile crossed my lips at his cocksuredness. I broke his contact then, and licked my juices from his lips, goatee and tongue. His arms held me securely in place when I attempted to break the kiss and I didn’t mind resting in that position for a bit. His strong tongue wreaked havoc on my jumping pussy, which dripped with anticipation for full exploration from this maestro.

I obeyed when he positioned me atop his body and slid his cock deep within me. I appreciated his hands on my hips directing my actions. I especially enjoyed the moments when I got it just right and his hands fell to his sides and gripped the bed linen….he did well under me as I nibbled his nipples while his dick thrusted deeper and deeper into me and my clit grated against the hair on his pelvis, the double stimulation was heavenly.

As I balanced on his dick I felt his passion build to a frenzy, he was about to cum. Not wanting the session to end too quickly, I asked him to wait for me and he lifted me to his side with one movement. His heavy breathing, his kisses on my shoulders down the line of my tummy and over my clit were too much to bear in silence, so I groaned and moaned under his manipulation. ‘He was gifted’ was the last thought I had as I erupted under the darting, sucking strokes of his mouth on my clit. My release was ripped from my body and I convulsed and held his head in place to empty every drop of me into his mouth.

Saving myself from further indulgence in this destructive being with his sorcery in love making will be a resolution for the looming New Year.