That Night with Helena, While It Was Snowing Outside

Outside, the snow was falling, but I didn’t care. Only a thin thread of icy air slipped in through some poorly sealed crack, and that was the closest thing to winter that entered that room.

The fireplace crackled eagerly, heating the place enough that clothes were unnecessary. I was down to a pair of black panties and, seated in the armchair in front of the fire, the flames kissed my skin with an almost animal heat.

The bed behind me was a battlefield. Sheets twisted and stained with arousal, one pillow on the floor, the other abandoned in a corner with a wet stain in the center. The air smelled of recent sex, of wet pussy, of perfume mixed with sweat, and of the glass of champagne that had gone flat on the low table.

I waited without urgency. I lit a cigarette, took a long sip of what was left in my glass, and slowly let the smoke out, watching it rise until it dissolved against the mantel. I felt strangely satisfied. Barely a few minutes earlier, pleasure had run through my body like a lash, with Helena’s tongue buried to the throat between my legs, and I still felt the throbbing echo between my thighs, my cunt swollen, the inner lips pulsing as if they had a heartbeat of their own.

I looked at my breasts, free of any fabric, and felt proud of them again. They had opened many doors in my life, and many eyes too. But above all, they had taught me how to open my own, the one to pleasure that doesn’t need to ask permission.

Without thinking too much about it, I pinched one nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I twisted it slowly, stretched it until I felt that sting that goes straight to the clit. I closed my eyes for a moment and felt again, deep inside, the tremors Helena had wrung from me a little while before, when she fucked me with three fingers while sucking my clit until I came screaming her name.

I lowered my other hand between my legs, over the lace, and noticed the panties were still soaked through. I moved my middle finger up and down, pressing the fabric gently against my still-sensitive cunt. A shiver climbed up my spine. I pulled my hand away to get back to my cigarette. I inhaled, exhaled, listened to a log crack in the fireplace and the low murmur of the classical music playing on the stereo. Just the right volume: enough to accompany without getting in the way.

Lost in that, I didn’t hear her steps. I only knew she was back when her hands squeezed my shoulders from behind and a kiss brushed the hairline at the back of my head.

I turned my head and there she was. The owner of my hours in solitude, as naked as I was, with only a pair of black lace panties that were the only thing preventing me from tasting her whole.

She smelled of soap and fresh perfume. She smelled of everything that was still to come.

She stole the cigarette from my fingers and, from my angle, I saw her take a long drag and exhale the smoke almost at the same time as she bent down to kiss me on the mouth. A slow kiss, with the hint of a tongue, enough to make my back prickle. Her tongue slipped between my lips and played with mine, wet, warm, with that taste of tobacco and champagne that drove me crazy.

—I thought you’d fallen asleep —she murmured against my lips.

—I was waiting for you. With my cunt burning, as always.

She smiled with that half-smile of hers, the one that announces war.

Her body was a constant temptation. Narrow, chiseled shoulders, a slender neck, the almost platinum-blond mane falling over her breasts. The full mouth I bit whenever I could, slowly. I lowered my gaze to her waist, that smooth stomach where I sometimes dozed with my face resting on it just to feel her close.

The panties revealed a glimpse of her shaved mound, and a little lower the toned legs I’d so often felt around my waist, or around my face, squeezing me hard when she came against my tongue.

I took one of her hands and kissed it. Fresh out of the shower, she was even more appealing than she already was.

—Come here —I said, and pulled her until she was standing between the armchair and the fire.

I put my hands on her breasts. I swept her hair aside with the back of my wrist and her nipples hardened at the lightest touch. I knew how sensitive they were, and I took advantage of it. She leaned forward to give them to my mouth, and I opened my lips to suck one, slowly, my tongue drawing circles around it. I caught it between my teeth, bit down gently, and tugged a little. She let out her breath in a gasp. I switched to the other one and did the same, while with two fingers I pinched the nipple I’d just left behind, wet and shining with my saliva.

She closed her eyes. She let out a short sigh that ended in something like a laugh.

—Cheater —she said.

—It’s justice.

I held her by the waist and pulled her just far enough from me to look at her. Her body, exposed in the orange glow of the fire and the room’s dimness, was a cry to the senses. She felt the heat on her back and instinctively moved closer to me, escaping the flames a little.

That smell of soap and perfume again.

I held her by the ass and drew her in until I could bury my nose between the folds of the lace. I inhaled. Under the soap, the scent of a waking cunt was already there, of a female body begging. My tongue moved on its own and licked the fabric over it, searching for the warm bulge of the clit that showed through the lace. Her hand brushed my hair. I looked up and saw her empty the rest of my glass in one swallow.

—You finished it —I complained.

—I’ll bring you another.

—Later. First I’m going to eat you out.

She lifted one leg and rested her foot on the arm of the chair. The new position left me facing the landscape. I moved the fabric aside with two fingers and felt, before anything else, how wet she was. She’d been ready for a while. Her cunt glistened, the inner lips peeking out pink, swollen, covered in thick slick that clung to her shaved skin.

I left a long kiss on her folds, without opening my mouth, just so she could feel the heat of my lips. I inhaled the scent, that smell of clean pussy and arousal that made me salivate. Then I stuck out my tongue and started slowly, tracing the outline, unhurried, feeling the skin of her thigh tense under my other hand.

I lowered my tongue to the entrance of her cunt and slipped it in a little, just a little, playing with that warm, slippery ring. She shuddered. I pulled it out and licked my way back up the whole groove, sucking up the slick that leaked from her. It tasted of salt and something sweet, that unique flavor that belongs only to her.

She still wasn’t fully showing herself to me. The little bud was being stubborn, hidden, as if waiting for me to insist. So I insisted. My tongue flattened, pressing upward, until that flower opened and I saw what I was looking for: pink, swollen, shining, charged with promise.

I encircled it with my lips. I inhaled and felt a shiver run through her entire body. I let it in a little way into my mouth and started playing with it. It tasted of honey and almond. My tongue tangled around it as if it had a life of its own, and Helena’s thighs tensed so much that her supporting leg nearly gave way.

—Fuck... ah, like that, don’t stop... —she moaned, throwing her head back.

I sucked harder, drawing the clit between my lips while my tongue vibrated over it. I lifted my right hand and shoved two fingers into her cunt all at once. They went in to the knuckles, with a wet slap that made her cry out. I curled them inward, searching for that spongy spot that drove her wild. I found it. I started massaging it while I kept sucking her little bud, relentlessly.

—You’re going to kill me... you’re going to kill me... —she gasped.

The hand holding my hair moved to the back of the chair. Her moans grew at the same pace I set for her. I pumped my fingers in and out hard, fucking her with my hand while my mouth never let go of the clit. Her slick ran down my wrist, soaked my chin, got under my nails.

There was no escape for her. I had my free hand on the small of her back and my palm wandered on its own to that round flesh that stole so many glances in jeans. I kneaded it, dug in my nails, while I sucked her, without pause. With my wet thumb I brushed her asshole and she let out a low howl.

Groan by groan, I felt her climb. My tongue knew its job. I added a third finger inside her, opening her cunt, and quickened the pumping. Her inner muscles began to squeeze me, sucking on my fingers. When she reached the top, she clung to the chair with both hands and drowned me out with the convulsions. A warm spurt splashed my chin and neck. Her body trembled, her leg gave out, and she dropped to her knees in front of me, her face pressed to my thighs, panting while I slowly withdrew my fingers from a cunt that was still pulsing.

I sucked my fingers one by one, watching her. She looked up at me from below, glassy-eyed.

I stroked her hair. With my other hand I poured another glass and brought it to her mouth. She drank like someone returning from a desert. When she was done, she laid her face back against my thighs and stayed there for a while, eyes closed, letting the echoes finish passing through. I felt her hot breath strike me over the lace of my panties, and felt my cunt tightening again.

I lit a cigarette. Reward for a job well done.

***

It took her a while to get back on her feet. She rose slowly, as if coming out of a dream, and her nakedness captured my attention all over again. I never got tired of looking at her. Her cheeks were red, her nipples still hard, the insides of her thighs shining with slick.

She kissed me without closing her eyes. She knew I loved sinking into that cobalt blue when she kissed me. I kissed her back with the same warmth. Her tongue still tasted of champagne and of herself, mixed with the trace she’d been left with of me.

She took the cigarette from my fingers, set it in the ashtray, and took my hands.

—Now you —she said—. Now it’s your turn to open your legs.

She made me stand up. She let me. While she devoured my mouth, she pushed me slowly back to the bed. She yanked my panties down, dragging them over my legs, and threw them to the floor. I fell back with my legs open and my feet hanging over the edge, my cunt already exposed, wet, throbbing.

Her face disappeared between my breasts. She sucked one nipple until it hurt, bit the other. She lowered her mouth over my sternum, leaving a trail of saliva. I felt her breath crash against my skin and her hot exhale trace a line down my stomach to my navel, where she put the tip of her tongue. I closed my eyes.

I thought she’d go fast. She didn’t. An eye for an eye, she must have been thinking, and she was going to collect for every time I’d made her wait.

Her mane slid over my skin, tickling me. Her mouth tasted one thigh, leaving a warm trail, biting into the soft flesh of the inner side, and advanced toward the center but avoided it. She passed over my mound, left a kiss right above the clit without touching it, and moved on to the other thigh. Her tongue promised without committing, over and over, and I was melting in anticipation. I felt my cunt open, pulsing in the air, slick running toward my ass.

—Helena, please... —I murmured.

—Shh. I’m in charge now.

Her hands didn’t squeeze, they only held. They slid down to my ankles and played with my bare feet. She licked the top of my foot, my ankle, climbed up biting my calf. Meanwhile, her lips and tongue kept up their patrol, always at just the right distance: just right to promise, just right to drive me desperate.

I squeezed my breasts with both hands, greedy, trying to rush the moment. I pinched my nipples hard, knowing she was watching. She kept doing what she was doing.

At last I felt her arrive. Her fingers parted the skin hiding me, opening my inner lips to leave my clit exposed. She blew cold air on me, knowing perfectly well it made me shiver, knowing I wanted more. Then her tongue took over.

She came closer and closer, avoiding the little rises and valleys the flesh creates as a shield, savoring every millimeter. Aware of my timing. When she finally gave in, she tore the most anticipated moan from my throat: that electric jolt that climbs up the spine and prickles all the way to the nape.

Her tongue pressed against my clit and started moving in circles, first slow, then fast. Then flat, up and down, covering me completely. Then the sharp tip, drumming on the little bud. She changed rhythm every few seconds, never letting me settle.

My hands left my breasts to tangle in her hair. My legs opened wider. The air wouldn’t go down into my lungs. I convulsed to the rhythm she set, riding from one crest to the next, feeling my sex flood.

She slipped in two fingers, then three. She curled them inside me and immediately found the spot she was looking for, pressing with the pad of her finger while her tongue gave the clit no peace. She fucked me with her hand as if she wanted to break me, her knuckles striking my cunt entrance with an obscene slap that filled the room above the music.

—Yes, yes, like that, harder, fuck me harder... —I begged her, not recognizing my own voice.

Her mouth was in charge of my desires. She held me by the waist with her free arm so I wouldn’t escape. She knew I had no intention of doing so.

She sank deeper. She sucked the clit hard into her mouth, trapping it between her lips, while the three fingers kept going in and out. Delirium took over my body. I felt the wave rise from my feet, tighten my stomach, close my throat. I screamed as the wave drowned me, my hips lifted from the bed, and my fingers clutched her hair until I stopped shaking. I soaked her entire face, felt my own slick run down toward my ass, soaking the sheets.

She kept teasing me with little tremors of her tongue so I wouldn’t forget the moment, licking me slowly, cleaning my cunt with patience. I wouldn’t forget it, not this one or the others. Not as long as it was with her.

I was left undone, surrendered to her whims, which were my own. With my cunt swollen, sensitive, throbbing, unable to move a leg.

She crawled across the bed to my mouth and gave me the sweetest kiss. My own flavor fused with the sweetness of her saliva in it. I felt my thick slick pass from her tongue to mine, and I sucked on hers to get every last drop. It was the perfect elixir.

***

She let me recover while she went to the fridge and brought a new bottle. She poured two glasses and lit two cigarettes at once. When she came back, my eyes were waiting for her, open.

I sat up against the headboard. Took the glass and cigarette.

—To your orgasms and mine —she said, and the glasses clinked with that clear sound that reminded us the cold was still outside and the heat was in here.

The snow kept falling in the street, covering the rooftops and the cars. The fireplace kept warming the room and us.

Stretched out beside me, I let my gaze drift over her again from face to feet. Her nakedness kept sorrows away and brought heaven closer. I stroked her skin more to make sure this wasn’t a dream than because I felt like it. I brushed one nipple with my thumb and it hardened again. I slid my hand down her belly to her pubis, and with my middle finger I brushed her swollen clit, just a touch, only to leave her the promise that the night was not over. Her softness made me sigh.

I do love her, yes. But not with that kind of love people talk about in movies. It’s something deeper and perhaps more superficial at the same time, depending on how you look at it. I love her body, her mouth, her gaze. I love the feel of her breast clenched in my hand. I love the madness of her smooth belly, the vertigo of leaning over that mound that falls toward the abyss of her sex. I love how her clit swells under my tongue, how her cunt opens for my fingers, how she comes screaming my name. I love everything she has.

I left a kiss on her forehead before resting my cheek between her breasts. Her warmth started to lull me to sleep.

When I woke up, I’d still be right there, mouth ready to go back down between her legs, for her pleasure and mine. For ours, combined.

I’ve tasted a thousand pleasures in my life. Men and women, I never made a distinction. Plenty of cocks, plenty of cunts, plenty of tongues and plenty of hands. But I found the perfect fit. Grounded on the continent of this body, I feel the searching is over. I closed my eyes as I slipped my arm around her waist. I think I’m staying here.