A blizzard raged outside, but our honeymoon cottage was comfortably warm, thanks to a roaring fire in the fireplace. “I’m ready, Jack.” I stood next to my bed with one foot on the floor and one foot resting on the bed. I wore a shirt Jack had requested for our wedding night—a white long-sleeved shirt. The shirttails hid my right hand and its forefinger playing with my clit. A black ribbon of velvet around my waist held the shirt closed. I’d cinched it to pull the shirt tight against the curves of my torso and rub against my nipples, which by now were straining against the fabric. Jack had only to tug at the ribbon for the shirt to fall away and expose my breasts to his hungry eyes.
I loved the summer. It meant swimming and spending time with my friend Jack, whom I seldom saw the rest of the year. We would swim or play other games until we were exhausted. Then we would lay on the bank beside each other and watch the clouds drift lazily, pushed along by unseen air currents. As the sun began to set, we would get dressed, say goodbye to each other, and go our separate ways; I, one way up and over a ridge to my home, and Jack in the opposite direction, across the creek and another ridge to his home.
One time, Jack had leaned over me, kissed me, jumped to his feet, dressed, and started walking home without waving ‘bye. Was he embarrassed about the way his voice cracked several times? I missed Jack.
Jack stepped into the doorway of the bedroom.
Last summer, my mom pulled me aside. “I saw Jack in town the other day. He asked about you, wondered if you were in the area. I told him you were. I noticed he didn’t have a ring on his finger.”
I thought about Jack as I pulled my bra off to change into my swimsuit at the water’s edge. I didn’t have these puppies the last time we went swimming together. I managed to fasten the strap of the bikini top, though my hands had started to shake. As I pulled on my bikini bottom, I paused to rub my pussy, and a flood of nervous heat washed over me as I felt my wetness on my finger. For a moment, I thought my knees would buckle.
Jack was naked. His rigid cock saluted me.
We were eight when we met. Jack had discovered what came to be his favorite swimming hole. Two days later, I discovered it as well. I had arrived before him that day, and he didn’t realize I was there until he dove in. Coming up out of the water, he saw someone standing several feet in front of him.
“Hi. I’m Anna. Who are you?”
Jack, who had no siblings, discovered I was different. But after a moment of comparing each other’s bodies, we started swimming, racing, and playing catch-me-if-you-can.
Some brides are anxious about their wedding night. Not me. Jack was driving to our honeymoon cottage, but he was also driving me crazy. He had put his arm around me, slipped his hand under my bra, and started feeling up my boobs. I felt the wetness between my legs.
“Anna, I’m so hot for you. Pull my cock out and make me cum.” Jack continued to grope while my left forefinger and thumb spread his pre-cum over his erection’s head. What’s it going to be like when that head is in my cunt?
When Jack encountered Anna’s parents in town and learned she was in the area, his heart had skipped a beat. He wanted to see her again but was a bit fearful about it as well. Did she want to see him? In the end, his desire to see her was greater than the fear of rejection.
It was a hot day—a perfect time to go swimming. Jack arrived at the creek, undressed, walked to the water’s edge, and dove in. After swimming for a few minutes, he crossed to the far side of the creek. There was shade from the hot sun there and a rock to rest on. He thought of Anna and of good memories.
He heard whistling coming from the far side of the creek. Quietly, he slipped off the rock and into the water and watched as someone approached.
The day had just gotten a little bit hotter. It was Anna, and she was undressing. Eyes riveted on her chest, Jack gave in to the urge to reach for his cock. He continued to watch silently as she pulled on her bathing suit and dove into the water. He started swimming towards the middle of the creek to where he figured she would surface.
“Hi, Anna. It’s good to see you again.”
The bedroom was getting very hot—like I had gotten hot in the creek last summer when I encountered Jack.
“Jack? Is that you? My parents said you were back in town. It’s so good to see you too.”
Moving slowly in the water, we closed the gap between us.
“I’m not quite the little girl you remember, am I?” I could see he was stealing glances at my chest. It made me feel good.
Jack nodded his head. “I expect I’m not the little boy you remember, either.”
“Jack, I’m getting hot.” We swam for a bit and made a few half-hearted attempts at playing the games we had played the last time we were together; tag, races. But it was no longer games. We were stepping through a long, sometimes languid, sometimes sultry dance, getting comfortable in being in each other’s presence again.
Jack entered the bedroom and crossed over to where I was standing. He pulled my arm out from under the shirt as he tugged at the ribbon. The fabric slid noiselessly off my shoulders to the floor. His eyes locked on my cunt, then he pulled me close to feel my breasts on his chest. My arms went around him as well to pull our hips together. He began to hump me; I could feel his dick exploring between my legs.
The coolness of the creek water cooled my body but could not lessen my desire. “Jack, the last time we were swimming here, you kissed me. Remember?”
“Kiss me again, Jack.” I felt his hands grabbing at my ass and pulling himself into me. I reached to pull him close as well. There was no bathing suit. I looked into his eyes. I could barely whisper, “Jack, I didn’t realize you weren’t wearing anything.” I saw several bits of a white milky substance floating with the current.
Breathlessly, I blurted out, “Jack, did you just….?” Jack put a finger to my lips before I could finish.
“Yes. Did you?”
“Yes. Perhaps it’s time for us to go to our separate homes. Promise you’ll return tomorrow. I promise I’ll be wearing my bathing suit.”
The first winter storm of the season heralded the arrival of my wedding day.
Standing there beside the bed, our lips met in a kiss. I relaxed my lips to let Jack explore with his tongue. He brought his hands around to fondle my breasts and then brought his cock up to rub against me. I couldn’t wait for Jack to lay me down on the bed. To make him cum and fill my pussy.
Earlier in the evening, I had come out of my bedroom dressed in a lacy, see-through top. I gave Jack a pair of silk shorts and watched as he pulled them up over his boner. Jack settled on the floor, and I sat in front of him with my back to him. His arms encircled me, and he palmed my breasts. I felt his penis twitch and press into my back. Jack abandoned his play with my boobs to graze his fingers across my shoulders, to kiss and bite the back of my neck, then to feel up my legs. As his fingers neared the tops of my thighs, my legs parted.
Jack answered the invitation. He positioned himself to my right side. His left hand carefully pulled the hood of my clit away to expose it. Then he inserted a finger of his right hand between the lips of my pussy and slowly drew it up to the top. As gently as he could, he began to stroke my clit.
My legs began to shake. I moaned. Wave after wave of pleasure splashed through my body. The finger continued to stroke, and the waves kept coming, each a bit more intense than the previous one. A tidal wave was about to slam into me.
“Jack, lie down on your back.” I rose onto my hands and knees and placed myself above him. His finger resumed its stroking as I pulled his throbbing shaft out of his shorts and closed my mouth on it.
We rode the waves together.
I was lying on my back on my bed. Jack was in front of me, between my legs, kneeling, with a hand on each breast. As he rocked forward on his knees, I reached for his erection. We shuddered when its head kissed the lips of my cunt. The wind howled, sculpting the swirling snow into undulating drifts. The fire roared in the fireplace. It was winter, but the honeymoon cottage was hot. I was hot. Jack was hot. He entered me. I moaned.
My sexual hunger temporarily satisfied, I dashed off to the kitchen to find something to eat. Jack’s cum trickled down my legs. Seeing Jack’s pole up when I returned, I mounted it while we ate a light supper of cheese and crackers. A half-empty bottle of wine sat on the bedside table. When Jack started groping my breasts and rocking his hips, I knew it was time to resume riding. The tidal wave slammed into me again when I felt Jack spilling himself into me.
I screamed. The embers in the fireplace glowed a dull red.
We rested quietly, motionless, each enjoying our connectedness with each other. Then rising on his elbows, he cradled my head in his hands and stroked my hair. Then he brought his lips to mine; we kissed. His shaft thrust deep into my pussy.
I tightened my legs around my lover’s back as a spark from deep within burst into flame. A cacophony of screams and gasps and groans accosted our ears, followed by the sounds of contentment.
The flames consumed us a fourth time as the morning sunrise burst through the bedroom window.
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