The big mug of hot chocolate steamed in the cool still air of that Fall evening. The whipped cream peeping provocatively over the top of the mug, seemingly winking at me in the glow of the fire. I love the coolness of the Fall air, and so did Dave. I grabbed my own cup of steaming liquid and began to sip, while watching him raise his cup to his lips and sip. Laughter erupted as the whipped cream mustache he had created became apparent as he removed the cup.
He looked at me, his eyes bright with mischief and asked if I wanted to help him get rid of his mustache. I leaned across and wiped away the white milky substance from above his lip slowly with my finger. I looked at my finger before slowly placing it into my mouth, teasing it first a little with my tongue before devouring it in it’s entirety.
“Yum” were the only words I could muster as I caught his eye again.
“I told you if you wanted whipped cream, I would of added some” he offered, “although I like it when you take it from me better! Come here you.”
I took two steps forward before he reached over and kissed me. I could taste the whipped cream that lingered on his lips and I could feel my breasts straining against the woolen sweater that he insisted I wore in case I got cold. I stood up and shed that woolen straight jacket and allowed my breasts and my skin to feel the coolness of the air as it hit them.
Without a word, Dave placed his finger in the whipped cream that still nestled in his cup and then deliberately swirled it around my nipples.
“Shit, that feels good.” was all I could mutter as he placed his cream dipped finger in his mouth and began to suck on it. I swear that image is seared into my brain now. It wasn’t long before his tongue found another delight to suckle upon and I squealed with delight as the warmth of his breath contrasted so perfectly with the now coolness of my skin. He broke and repeated the exercise a few times, each time looking up at me as if I was a Greek Goddess.
“You like that don’t you?” he asked after the fourth round of cream and nipple. I answered with a simple yes. “Something tells me you want more…” he uttered as his hands reached between my skirt clad legs and reached between my now moist thighs.
He continued to feast on my breasts, while his hand began to massage my mound. I wore no panties that evening and I was glad. Without warning I felt my skirt fall from my hips and I was naked, the coolness of the air hit me like a stream train, and yet I was still warm from his touch.
It was then that I realized I was actually naked in my own backyard, exposed. My first reaction was to run back to the house, but something kept me grounded in the leaves that rustled with every movement of my body. Gently Dave pulled me downwards, before joining me on the ground. His lips found mine and his hands were once more massaging me, my naked, exposed body. I felt so alive in that moment laid amongst those crisp leaves.
Without warning Dave stopped what he was doing. He stood up and slowly removed his jeans, “Fuck, your gorgeous.” He uttered as he towered above my exposed nakedness, before he came back to my level, spreading my legs wide open as he did. I felt him delve into my depths, ground me into the earth, and I forgot about being naked, being exposed. I could hear the leaves rustling around us, feel the occasional sharp edge as it ground into my back, but I didn’t care. I crested the wave of orgasm as he ground me into the dirt and I loved every second of it. His tongue against my cool skin, his arms around my body and his cock buried deep inside me. I came!
When he had