Embers in the Chalet

The fire was the only light in the room, and it painted Lena in shades of gold and shadow. She stood by the window, a glass of red wine in her hand, watching the snow fall in thick, silent sheets against the black glass. I hadn't seen her in ten years, not since we’d graduated, and the sight of her—the same sharp green eyes, but with a woman’s body now, full breasts straining against her wool sweater—sent a jolt straight to my cock.

“You look the same, Mark,” she said, not turning around. Her voice had that same teasing edge. “Just older.”

“You don’t,” I said, my own voice rough. “You look… different.” I took a step closer, the floorboards creaking. The air was thick with the smell of pine and woodsmoke, and something else. Her perfume. Something floral and warm.

She finally turned, a slow smile on her lips. The glass tilted in her hand, a drop of wine catching the firelight like a ruby. “How different?”

I didn't answer with words. I closed the distance, took the glass from her hand, and set it on the sill. Her breath hitched. My hands found her hips, pulling her against me, and her body was warm and pliant. Her head tilted back, her lips parted in a silent gasp as I kissed her neck, tasting the salt of her skin.

“This is insane,” she whispered, but her hands were already fisting the fabric of my shirt.

“We’re alone. The storm’s got us trapped.” I slid my hand up, under the hem of her sweater, finding the bare skin of her stomach. It was smooth and hot. “I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you at the door.”

“I’ve been thinking about it since the airport,” she confessed, her voice breaking as I cupped her breast, feeling her nipple harden through the lace of her bra.

I pulled the sweater over her head in one motion, and she wasn't wearing a bra. Her tits were perfect, full with dark, erect nipples. I bent and took one in my mouth, laving it with my tongue until she moaned, a low, guttural sound that went straight to my dick.

“Fuck, Mark,” she panted, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me harder against her.

My hands went to the button of her jeans, and I made quick work of it. The zipper hissed down, and I shoved the denim and her black lace panties down her thighs. She stepped out of them, kicking them aside, and stood naked before me, her skin glowing in the firelight. Her pussy was bare, already glistening with wetness.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I breathed, dropping to my knees.

She didn't protest. She just spread her legs wider, her hand on the back of my head. I buried my face between her thighs, my tongue finding her clit, slick and swollen. She tasted like wine and woman, and I devoured her, licking, sucking, until her hips were bucking against my mouth and she was crying out, her thighs trembling around my head.

I stood up, yanking my own shirt over my head and unbuckling my belt. My cock sprang free, hard as iron, the tip wet with pre-cum. She looked at it, her eyes dark with hunger, and licked her lips.

“I want you inside me,” she demanded, her voice a low command.

I lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around my waist. Her wet pussy grazed the head of my cock, and we both shuddered. I carried her to the thick sheepskin rug in front of the fire, lowering her onto it. Her body was a feast in the flickering light.

I positioned myself between her legs, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance. She was so wet, so ready. “Ready?” I asked, my voice a ragged whisper.

“Just fucking do it,” she growled.

I drove into her in one smooth, hard thrust. She gasped, her back arching, her nails digging into my shoulders. Her pussy was tight, scorching hot, gripping my cock like a fist. I began to move, a slow, deep rhythm that made her moan with every stroke.

“Yes… like that… don’t stop,” she breathed, her eyes squeezed shut.

I picked up the pace, slamming into her harder, the sound of our bodies slapping together filling the quiet room. I looked down at her, her tits bouncing with each thrust, her face a mask of pure pleasure. I felt the pressure building, my balls tightening.

“I’m close,” I grunted.

“Not yet,” she panted, pushing against my chest. “Turn over.”

I pulled out, and she rolled onto her hands and knees, presenting her ass to me, looking back over her shoulder with a wicked grin. “I want it from behind.”

I grabbed her hips, my fingers digging into her soft flesh, and slammed into her again. This angle was even deeper, and she cried out, a raw, primal sound. I fucked her hard, my balls slapping against her clit, her moans turning into incoherent pleas.

“Fuck me, Mark, fuck me!” she screamed.

I reached around and found her clit, rubbing it in tight circles as I pounded into her. Her whole body tightened, and I felt her pussy clamp down on my cock, milking me as she came with a shuddering howl. The sight of her losing control pushed me over the edge.

“I’m going to cum,” I warned, my voice strained.

“Cum inside me,” she begged. “Fill me up.”

With a final, desperate thrust, I buried myself to the hilt and exploded, my hot cum flooding her pussy. We stayed like that, my body trembling against hers, joined, the only sound our ragged breathing and the crackle of the fire.

I pulled out slowly, collapsing onto my back beside her, my heart pounding in my chest. She curled into my side, her head on my shoulder. Her hand found mine, her fingers lacing through his.

The snow continued to fall outside. Inside, we just listened to each other breathe.

CATEGORIES: [Horny, Just the Two of Us, In the Mountains]