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By *of9 OP Couple
over a year ago
Staffordshire |
CQC: Waiting for Santa
It is late.
We are snuggled up on the sofa together watching the tail end of a Christmas film which I have mostly napped through, and I am just about to suggest that it is bedtime before I properly fall asleep and really don’t want to move.
I hear a noise that could be one of the cats cavorting around in the hall and misjudging the distance before slamming on the brakes when reaching the front door.
Or it might not.
I listen intently for a moment, and it happens again.
Tap. Tap tap. Tap tap tap.
“That’s the inside door!” I remark in surprise. “Who could that be at this time of night? Who would know to come into the porch rather than knocking on the outside door?”
You are as confused as me, but gallantly you stride out into the hall to investigate. After a moment, I hear the inside front door open and close, but no sound from the outer door.
I strain my ears some more, and for a moment I think I can hear low voices talking. Then it seems to go quiet.
Then I hear a sound that I can’t quite place.
And another.
And then a very gentle moan.
Suddenly I find my heart racing just a little quicker.
Slowly and carefully, I gently rise to my feet, and tiptoe towards the doorway into the hall. Almost holding my breath my anticipation, I peep out into the hallway and turn my head to the right to look through the glass panes in the inner front door.
The panes are crazed glass so it is frustratingly impossible to see clearly, especially in the dark, but I can just about make out your silhouette, sideways on. You are leaning forward to another silhouette in the darkness.
It is her.
Suddenly the noises the preceded the gentle moan make sense. They were hungry kisses, searching each other’s mouths desperately - knowing you are pressed for time and doing something beautifully illicit.
I inch a tiny bit closer, wanting to hear and see slightly better, but not wanting to be seen watching so that it adds to the feeling of being sneaky and purely lustful.
I can just about make out that her coat is open and her top is raised up high. One of your hands is on her breast, and I’m assuming the other has already found it’s way between her legs as she is moaning more often deeply into your mouth as your tongues touch.
As you drop your mouth from her lips to her nipple, I hear her cum hard against your hand, and I imagine the torrent of liquid that has just gushed into her jeans. You raise the hand that did the work to her lips and she sucks hungrily on her own juices on your fingers, before you kiss her again deeply, stealing some of the precious liquid as your own.
She puts both her hands against your chest and pushes you hard. Surprised, you find yourself pushed back against the opposite wall of the tiny porch, and she instantly drops to her knees in front of you. I cannot see because the glass panels in the door are only in the top half, but your head is already thrown back, and I know that if I could clearly see your eyes, they would be rolling in pleasure as she gives your cock a deep rough sloppy sucking in the way she knows you love so much.
You can’t take much. You grab her hair with your hands and pull her to her feet. Sharply you spin her away from you, and she braces herself with her hands on the wall. I hear rustling as you wrench her jeans down then your own, and she willingly bends over as best as she can in the small space, desperately wanting the next step.
Your cock is buried deep within her wetness in a single thrust. Gentle teasing could not be further from your mind - you want her, and you want her now. I can hear her moaning, and I can imagine her trying to bite her lip to keep the noise down.
As soon as your hands roughly grab her tits to help you thrust into her, you both have no chance. A second orgasm crashes through her, and the spasms of her wet pussy around your cock make you empty your balls deep inside her with a low growl.
As you both gasp for your breath and try to float back to earth, I quietly slip back into the lounge and sit down in my own wetness on the sofa.
I stretch lazily as you walk back into the room, still trying to control your breathing and distinctly rosy cheeked.
“Was there something out there my love?” I ask innocently.
You offer me a gift wrapped present.
“Santa left this,” you say. “It was in the porch. I’m afraid I was a bit greedy and opened the other gift straight away. But I think you might have got some benefit from that gift too.”
I giggle, and momentarily allow my fingers to trail downwards and through the wetness between my legs.
Yes, her gift was perfect. For both of us.
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