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I had my snow pants down to my ankles and my husband was positioning his eleventh finger against my slick opening as my breath hung lightly in the air and I gripped the lamp post tightly with my gloved hands. He’d been frisky for the past hour or so and as we walked along the downtown streets had been trying to direct my path into one of the nearby alleys so that we could have a quickie. I, on the other hand, was hoping to wait until we got home to the warmth of our beds. It was cold out here.
I could not deny, however, that I was feeling horny, too and during the Holiday season I would always feel a little closer to my husband than normal. It was the kind of feeling, with the colored festive lights decorating every shop window and the sky darkening early and the end of the year approaching quickly that was at once contemplative and maudlin while being joyous at the same time.
His tip entered slowly and I braced myself for the rest of Ben, whose arms were around my waist. I was wearing a thick snowjacket and the sound of material brushing against material was loud in the still, chill night air. Ben was, without question, the largest man I’d ever enjoyed. Oh, to be sure he was not tall, only five ten or so which meant that he was unusually well-endowed for his height at nine wide, pulsating inches. I thought about what it was like seeing him naked with that thing dangling between his legs coming almost as far down as his knees and it caused me to smile.
The rest of him came in slowly because he knew I had not had time to be properly prepared. He had leaned me up against this lamppost and kissed me deeply, passionately, trying to get my pants down like a crazy person while I playfully fought him off, swiping at his hands and such. “It’s going to start snowing,” I laughed amidst our lover’s struggle.
“Let it,” he said and he laughed right along with me.
I hate to admit it but the ending was a foregone conclusion for, as I say, I was horny too and our home was still better than an hour walk and subway ride away. We had been to dinner and drinks at Chesterfields and had stopped to admire the ambitious and wonderful Christmas display in the Macy’s front plate-glass window. We had even stopped to see the tree in Washington Square, the one that had been a gift from our neighbors to the north, Canada that was coated with a dusting of snow, less than had accumulated on the streets and was making walking a crunchy affair. And all the while he and I had been holding hands and smiling our lover’s smile at one another overcome by the magic of the season.
And then he took me. Ben is strong and under the layers of his winter clothing I knew was a good body, a body rippled with taut muscles. It was a body that I’d made love to countless times during our years of marriage and I was well aware of how to bring that body pleasure and conversely my husband knew just what I liked as well and we remained as hungry for one another as the day we were wed.
I had frustrated him by refusing him permission to take my snow pants down but that was part of the tease. He had to remember even though he was bigger and stronger than I, who was in control and I was not about to let him simply ravish me there in the middle of the street. If he wanted this- and the sparkling in his deep-set blue eyes told me that he wanted this and wanted it bad- he was going to have to work for it. On occasion I would let him take me like a brute, but not on this night. On this night I wanted a little more.
He looked to the left and to the right, sighing, at what I supposed ankara escort he thought to be his failed run at me but which was, in reality, a quick look up and down the block to make sure we were alone. In a city of six hundred thousand people there is always a chance that one could come ambling down the street at any minute. It was late enough that all of the businesses and big department stores had been closed for the night for some time and the skyscrapers that lined the street all around us were still as giant beings in the windswept darkness.
I looked around us, too, equally concerned about the relative privacy of what we were doing but caring less than he for there were times I liked danger and doing it on Boston’s main thoroughfare of Washington Street was nothing if not dangerous even if there was not another soul in sight. ‘Let someone catch us here’, I thought to myself, ‘We’re not actually doing anything wrong.’ And then another thought occurred to me, ‘And then wouldn’t they have a Christmas story to tell!’
Ben took up both my hands in his and swung them side by side as he considered the conundrum of me and how to get what he wanted from me. Men can be such silly creatures, can have such one-track minds. To him I was a puzzle to be solved and as he looked questioningly into my eyes I thought that fine and good. I did so like being a mystery woman for him. He licked his lips and it was then I felt his weight against me pushing me back into the cold, hard metal of the pole while a few flakes leisurely fell from the sky. His lips came to mine and he forced my mouth open with his wet tongue, inserting it nearly to the back of my mouth as the primitive sense of urgency was beginning to overcome him.
He pushed his hips into mine and even through four layers of clothing- I counted them mentally- I could still feel the power of his hidden erection. It was as sturdy and pliable as if he carried a stick around in his pocket. “I think I know what someone wants for Christmas,” I whispered in a sing-song voice into his ear, intent on further teasing him, drawing him out, making him wait for such was my power as a woman.
“Maybe we could open our presents early this year,” he suggested in that tone of voice that told me he certainly did not mean the wrapped gifts we’d spent hours shopping for that were lovingly placed under our tree at home.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I winked, “Santa told me that you were on the naughty list.” I giggled heartily, but even as I did so, I watched hypnotically as his hands reached to his pants, grasped the waist band in one hand and tugged down his zipper with the other. It took him all of two seconds from there to get his North Pole exposed. It struck me as funny how quickly a boy can whip it out when there’s even a slight chance that a woman might be responsive to it.
I put a hand to his back, making him turn to one side in profile and he asked, “What are you doing?” His cock, mind you, was fully engorged and was straining upward toward the night sky.
“I’m pointing you toward the North Star,” I laughed and, sure enough, if you followed the slope of his penis towards the heavens there was the brightest star in the sky.
Ben had a good chuckled over this and, with a laugh said, “You’re being silly.”
“Am I?” I asked, letting my inner minx enter my voice. “Maybe you won’t think that this is so silly, eh?” I lowered myself to my knees on the soft patch of snow between his legs and took his monster in my gloved fingers stroking it rapidly. “Aren’t you cold?”
“I’m getting warmer,” escort ankara he chuckled, “by the minute.”
I took him, then, into the warm, wet confines of my mouth and started to move gingerly back and forth. His rigid, springy member trembled under my attentions and I was well aware that if I kept at this for too long he was liable to have an explosion. I looked upward toward Ben’s face and could see that he was leaning his head back against the pole, eyes closed, mumbling pleasured sounds.
‘Oh, no, mister, this isn’t the be all and end all of this. A simple blow-job is not going to be enough here. There’s a reason why they call it foreplay and I’m going to need a little less ‘fore’ and a little more ‘play’.’
Letting go of him I stumbled as I pushed up against the slippery snow in an effort to get to my feet, proud of myself for making it without falling completely over and going down head first. I brushed the snow from my knees and from the bottom of my snow pants. I heard a sound coming to me from some way off, a Christmas calliope, playing “Jingle Bells”. I took my gloved hand, which still had the tiniest bit of snow affixed to it and wrapped it about the shaft of his cock. “Cold!” he laughed. “Not fair!”
Around us the storm was starting to gather strength and snow was falling at regular intervals and accumulating in a second layer on the deserted street. People with any sense were home now for all the weather forecasters were predicting several more inches before daybreak. I didn’t think they’d close the subway but I didn’t want to take any chances because it was our only way to get home from here. There were on cabs in this part of the city and a good chance that there’d be none even if we managed to walk all the way down to Fanueil Hall. Being stuck downtown was a prospect that I did not relish. But, so help me, in spite of the risk I was going to finish what we started.
I turned my back to my husband and grabbed the lamp post and shook my backside at him provocatively. I felt him behind me, his fingers entering my waistband, pulling my snow pants down to the ground. I spread my legs apart as much as I could. I didn’t have to check myself to know that I was already slick for him. His tip came at me first and I felt it linger against my pussy for a second or two during which time I was able to brace myself for his invasion. Little by little he entered me, pushing his massive cock inside inch by inch. His arms went around my waist and he emitted a soft groan as the last of him was wedged deep inside my body. “Oh shit!” I called out a little louder than I should because it seemed to echo off the buildings around me.
“You like that?” he asked in tender whisper.
“You’re so big!” I was keeping my own voice lower but there remained some strain in it.
He liked that and while we only sometimes talked in bed it was an activity, I think, that turned us both on. “Tell me you like it,” he offered.
I pushed my hips back roughly engulfing the entirety of his swollen man-missile, gripping and ungripping it within my inner depths. A small bead of sweat had dripped from my brow and it seemed strange to be perspiring in such frigid weather. I heard myself making noises, guttural sounds that contained no meaning. “Give…it…to…me!” I demanded, once more hearing a faint echo in the silence.
My toes curled up inside my boots, my eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and I was holding on to the lamp post for dear life. I felt a sliding feeling, like the kind one feels jetting down from the top of a water slide, couple ankara escort bayan with a spinning-headed dizziness all while the inside of me was tingling with furnace like warmth. I felt almost detached from my body as I was made aware of a series of explosions occurring that I assumed was my own orgasm but which, in fact, was not. It was Ben. I counted this as good because my own was coming hard on its heels and I was gasping and thrusting back, gasping and thrusting back until finally, deliciously, the sunshine-y feeling of climax overcame me and I started to feel weak yet satisfied, contented yet invigorated.
We took our time arranging ourselves, putting our disheveled clothes back in some kind of order. Ben lowered his head and kissed me very softly on the mouth and said, “We should get out more often.”
I replied, “You’re silly” and just as the words came out of my mouth I was aware of a figure not far down the street from us whose arms were folded and who looked most serious. I held my breath for it was well-known that robbers and miscreants would roam these streets at night in search of unsuspecting tourists.
The figure came closer; walking upright and with a sense of assurity rarely seen in the criminal element and, indeed, this was no criminal but a police officer with snowflakes dotting her blue overcoat. How long she had been there I didn’t know, but my cheeks colored red and I was deeply blushing. “I wanted to wait until you were through…” she said all deep voiced and authoritarian as police tended to be in dealing with law breakers. This would be the perfect end of the night wouldn’t it, to wind up in jail on some bullshit charge. If she had taken us in I would die. I would simply die. Closing the gap between us further it became clear that she was talking to me and not to Ben, “Your boyfriend’s got quite a stroke…” She laughed as if she thought that that was amusing, adding, “He’s hung like a stallion, too.” Once the laughter subsided, the officer explained the reason for her availing herself of us, “They just announced that the trains are going to stop running in an hour. If you’re taking the subway then you’d better be on your way.”
“Is that a fact?” I asked, ultimately relieved that she wasn’t intending on hauling us in.
“That was twenty-minutes ago, more or less,” she said, “This storm is supposed to get a lot worse soon.”
“Yeah, I know. I heard that,” I said, “And we were just, uh, leaving.”
Ben and I both thanked the kindly police woman and started away up the snow covered street toward the entrance of the subway terminal. I thought I heard a voice behind me bemoaning, “I think I need a cold shower,” but Ben was sure he hadn’t heard a thing though I was sure I had. We bought two tokens from the token-seller in the booth and popped them into the machine and went through the turnstile. The platform, like the street above, was empty.
“How long do you think she’d been standing there?” he asked me.
“I don’t know,” I answered, “But it couldn’t have been long.”
“I don’t think so, either,” he said, “or we would have heard her.”
“I think you were making too much noise,” I grabbed his arm and held it against me. In the distance I could hear the whoosh of a subway car approaching.
“Me!?” he laughed out loud, “You were making way more noise than I.”
That was something I was not about to debate with him because, in fact, it was the truth.
That night would fall into the legend of our marriage and be told and re-told over the years; embellished somewhat and told only to those close and intimate friends that we felt we could truly trust. And, once a year, as would become our tradition we would take the subway downtown during the first snowfall of the year and find an inconspicuous place to make love.
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