When she turns, I see her bare ass is in a thong and my cock hardens at the sight of her cheeks so nice and round. She’s so fucking sexy, my little maple-glazed donut, ready for me to lick her up and down.
“I need your tight cunt against my mouth,” I groan, pulling her to me. Feeling greedy as fuck and horny as hell.
“I need you in me,” she begs as we tumble to the bed. We haven’t fucked in this cabin in years. We’re suddenly falling back in time, to our first Christmas together when we made love all night long. It’s time to repeat history.
I run my hands over my wife’s beautiful body. Kissing her breasts, her neck, her ears. Loving the way it feels to be alone with her. The valley is far below us and the mountain shields us from the world at large. We’re alone and wrapped up in one another. At this moment, all that matters is our love.
My cock aches for her, and as she takes me in her mouth, I grunt my pleasure. She sucks me up and down, her fingers fondling my balls and I pull her closer, needing her to spin her pretty little butt around. She does, straddling me, her cunt against my beard, as she dips her mouth back to my cock, sixty-nining me the way that makes my inner beast wild.
I suck her pussy; it drips for me the way I need. I suck all that cream as she squirts, bringing me closer to the edge, until I’m running my tongue so tightly against her cunt there is nothing for her to do but get off. I come as she comes, both of us feeling the depth of our love, our passion. It’s been ten years since we said I do, but I’d do it all over again. A lifetime with Maple is the sweetest thing this world has to offer.
Moving to her back, I listen as she asks me to fill her up. Satisfying her is the most important thing in the world. I ease myself into her pussy, the place I belong, and her warmth envelops me, making me feel like a goddamn king. Her king. Her one and only.
I waited for her all my life and she’s the only woman I’ve ever kissed, explored, devoured. It’s an honor I treasure every day of my life. She is mine and I am hers and as I fill her, I say a silent prayer thanking the ghosts of Christmas past for giving me Maple.
“What?” she asks, searching my eyes as I fill her, her arms wrapped around my neck.
“I was just thinking how much I love you,” I tell her.
My words soothe her, and she closes her eyes, letting the pleasure of our bodies, now entwined, wrap around her. “I love you too, Filson.”
She comes with my cock buried in her pussy; her moans would have woken the children. But they aren’t here. The next two nights are ours alone. And we aren’t going to waste a moment of them.
I kiss her, having already memorized every inch of her skin, every flutter of her eyelashes, every beat of her heart. She is mine, and I am hers. Home isn’t where the beard is. Home is right here, in this sliver of space, when we are wrapped in each other’s arms. Home isn’t a place – it’s a feeling.
And I feel like the luckiest man on this mountain.