The crackling of the fire sings a duet with the howling wind outside. Sitting in the dimly lit living room of the cabin, floor-to-ceiling windows to my right offers me a perfect view of snow drifting on the frigid wind. The moon’s glow casts shadows over the mountain that stands mighty across the twinkling lake. I look to my left and see her making her way to me from the bedroom hallway. Garbed in the most exquisite thing she owns, her self-confidence. Her skin is luminous in the silver glow of the moon and the amber flickering of the firelight. She walks to me and moves to stand in front of me, between my legs.

“Look at me the way you do, please?”

Her need for my visual study heats my blood. I feel a surge run through my chest. My heart thrums. I inhale, filling my lungs to near bursting. Close my eyes and feel the oxygen intoxicate my brain. I open my eyes and begin my worship.

I struggle to pinpoint what excites me the most about the circumstances. I sit wearing my grey slacks, and white buttoned-up shirt with sleeves rolled, displaying my forearms in a way that drives her wild. She stands in front of me, feet shoulder-width apart, her hands softly moving over her naked skin. Is it her confidence, knowing how desperate I need to look at her beauty? Is it because she stands naked in front of a curtainless window for any spectator to see? I rummage through the thoughts and quickly decide, what does it matter? Enjoy her. My eyes scan her naked body from the ankle to the top of her head. Standing with the fire directly behind her, it perfectly halos her in an orange, flickering glow. It accentuates the tiny hairs on her skin. The moon shines down over her, leaving a silver glow to coat her, illumining her. As my eyes linger between her thighs, staring at her perfectly trimmed pussy, my cock throbs. I see a bead of her succulent wetness, almost ready to drip. Her excitement at me visually exploring her is a heady understanding.

“Masturbate for me,” I order.

My cock flexes as she sits on the coffee table. It drives me wild how well she knows what I want. She scoots back, setting her feet on the table. Her fingers spread her lips apart; she presents her hole to me. It takes every ounce of will, to not drop to my knees and devour her. Bringing her fingers to her mouth, she licks them, tasting the moisture of her cunt with obvious enjoyment.

“I want you to cum. I don’t want a show. I want it raw. I want to see how much you need it.” My voice almost startles her, but she smiles.

“Thank you, Sir.”

I have lost track of how many times she has cum. She lays back on the massive coffee table, her fingers working her through another orgasm. A puddle of her cum has collected under her. I move to hover over her, placing one hand on each side of her head. I grin at the look of pleasure and exhaustion on her face.

“You are perfect. You are everything I have ever hoped for. You have done so well, cumming for me. Pleasing me. Now, it is my turn to please you. How do you want it?”

“Masturbate for me,” she mumbles the order.

Her order, to have me masturbate for her enjoyment, delights me. In all my life, with all the people I have been with, no one has ever made me feel more wanted. I stand straight up, looking down at her. Her hands lightly slide through her precisely trimmed pubic hair. I let myself visually indulge in her again, as she does the same of me. My fingers quickly fumble to unbutton my shirt. I pour concentration into my digits, ensuring accuracy over speed. I undo my belt and quickly yank it off. I clear all the belt loops in one smooth flapping sound. She bites her bottom lip. I remembered her telling me once how much she loved that sound. I undo my pants, drag down my zipper, and let my slacks and boxer briefs fall to the floor. My white, buttoned-up shirt hangs open, baring my naked chest. I flick off my shoes, kick my pants and boxer briefs to the side, and pause.

“Shirt too,” she demands.

I stand naked before her. My cock is fully erect. The orange hews of the fire dance across my body. The warmth from the flames is felt, as the howling freeze of the night, chills my mind. My hand grabs the head of my cock and softly strokes down. The soft skin of my member feels good in my hand. I hump into my hand, expertly squeezing the ridge of my dick as I do. I feel precum against my fingers; it adds too much friction to my stroking. I let a fair amount of spit leave my mouth, coating my dome. I pay attention to her as I stroke my saliva into my shaft. She is sitting up, face inches away from my dick. Her eyes fixate on how I work my poll. I throw all doubts and self-critiques aside. I start to masturbate, exactly how I enjoy it. My previous commands ring in the back of my mind, No show. Just raw. Just cum.

I huff loudly, my eyes flickering at the sensations I feel throughout my body and mind. She watches me masturbate with incredible interest and with such exquisite pleasure. Every so often, she looks up at me with eyes of pure excitement. I see her lick her lips. Her nonverbal communication tells me she is struggling not to touch me.

“Where?” is all, I can say.

Her smile is pure. She quickly lays back down, gesturing to all of her, and answers, “Everywhere.”

My core buckles, nearly breaking me in half. I pump my hand tightly and quickly around the ridge of my cock. Years of experience have led me to this moment. My eyes close as I feel the eruption explode in me and jolt through my shaft, and out of my head, as I let myself roar without abandon. Spurts of my scorching thick cum spout out over her. Several pumps of my seed erupt up and over her, landing several feet away. Aftershocks rip through me as I catch myself from falling over.

After a few moments of composing myself bent over, I stand straight up. My cock has gone nearly soft. I stand with hands on hips, surveying the cum soaked beauty before me. She smears cum into her skin; never taking her eyes off my cock. Bringing her finger to her mouth, I watch her taste me. I feel life spring into my dick.

“Let’s masturbate together next,” I suggest.

I sit on the rug in front of the fireplace with my legs out in front of me. She sits up against me. Her legs draped over my thighs, facing me. Her pussy nearly touches my cock. Sitting so close, we begin touching ourselves. She rubs her swollen clit while I stroke my throbbing cock. Our eyes lock as our hands skillfully employ our deepest and most intimate self-gratification. The look on her face of sexual enjoyment mixes with sadistic satisfaction.

“I love watching you masturbate for me.” Her voice opens a box I had stowed away, deep inside my mind. The idea is that we can talk while we do this.

“Touch your clit for me, my good little slut.” My words feel strange at first. Her reaction of whimpering moans motivates me. “That’s it. That’s my good girl. Watch me stroke my cock. Use the sight of me to cum.” She does as I suggest. She looks as I hump into my hand, lifting her thighs with each thrust. She spreads her legs as if trying to push herself against me.

Unable to take any more, I push her on her back.

Smiling, she teases, “Finally.”

Grabbing a pillow from the couch, I shove it under her lower back, lifting her off the floor in a perfect position. Feeling myself slide inside her is unlike anything I have ever felt before. After all this time, every time is like the first time. I slowly move my cock in and out of her. I use her tight, wet cunt to make myself feel good. Her voice becomes my porn.

“You take me however you want me, whenever you want me.”

My head pulls out, and small spurts of uncontrolled sap jet onto her stomach. Her look of pure ecstasy is incredible. She licks her lips and moans.

“I love your seed, my king.” She moans and smiles, “And I’m your queen.” I slip myself back into her, humping just the ridge of my head. A glaze of her delicious cream coats my shaft. I shove myself deep; she clenches in response.

“FUCK, you feel so good, my queen,” I growl softly.

I pull out again; another geyser of my mess covers her. The glow of the fireplace covers her body in golden light. Her fingers drag through the droplets of my cream; she smears it over her torso and against her breast. We enjoy the back and forth in a seemingly, endless state of euphoric release. Every orgasm she has motivates mine.

We lay side by side facing each other, soaked in our liquid lust. My arm drapes over her shoulder while her fingers trace shapes into my chest. Exhaustion-filled bliss covers our faces with smiles. We look into each other’s eyes for who knows how long. Too content to speak, we slowly drift to sleep with the lullaby of the crackling log fire and howling winter wind.

The End