Hot Revenge Box Set 2

The fog swirls outside the window; the light is already dim. Nonetheless, she draws curtains, lights a candle. Then another. The light shimmers over her hair, dances in her eyes.

Her hands on my chest once more, “You want this?”

“Mitch, I’ve never wanted anything else.”

“Good,” she murmurs. She tugs at my jacket. “Why don’t you take this off?” She slides it from my shoulders, hanging it neatly from a hook on the back of the door. “That too.” She nods to my pullover.

I strip it off along with the undershirt below, moving carefully to avoid straining the wound. Then I stand, skin goosing, hoping that...

Mitch chuckles. “Why don’t we just get ourselves where it’s warm?” She reaches under the bed, and something clicks. She wrinkles her nose at me. “Electric blanket.”

Despite everything; the years, the waiting, the wanting… something like bashfulness takes me. I’ve not been celibate in the years between. I’ve scratched the itch when I needed to. But that’s all it was; satisfying an occasional physical need.

I’ve never made love since…

“It feels like Helsinki, doesn’t it,” she says.

“Yes, it does. Mitch…”

Her eyes twinkle. “No pyjamas though…”

“Are we going to need pyjamas?”

She strokes my hair. “Get undressed. Get into bed. I’ll do the same. Let’s find each other again.”

Turning my back to her, I strip off. As I turn, climb between the sheets and under the thick duvet, she’s unclipping her bra, slipping off panties. Naked, her heavy breasts swinging, she slips in beside me.

And there we lie, face to face, enfolded in the growing warmth of Mitch’s bed.

“So…” she says, “Where do we begin?”

“Mitch… I’m not going to keep saying this, but it needs to be said once. All those years ago… I’m sorry I frightened you. I’m sorry I… hunted you… I’m sorry for robbing you of Jenny.”

Her eyes fall… then rise again, something quirking over her mouth. “You’re not sorry about Frank though, are you?”

I inhale. “Um… no. If I’m truthful, I’m not at all sorry about that. The last time I saw Frank, I scared the shit out of him, deliberately so. And no, I don’t regret it at all.”

“Good,” she murmurs. Then, “Larry…” She curls fingers around my hand, pulling it towards herself, sliding my palm over her breast.

My chest tightens but my cock nudges awake. Cupping my hand over the breast, smooth and warm against my skin, with the thumb, I stroke at the nipple. It comes alive under my touch, nubbing.

My lips brushing against hers, with the other arm I curve around her waist, pulling her closer. She eases up against me, pressing herself against my burgeoning erection.

“Are you warm enough?” she murmurs.

“It’s the warmest I’ve been in days.”

My fingers still on the one breast, I drop my lips over the other, mouthing at pale skin, fragrant with her scent, nibbling at the nipple, then tugging at it as it crinkles hard between my teeth.

Her fragrance. I’ve never forgotten

her throat in a

surges, sending waves of pressure

you

I settle with her thighs parting under me, my harder flesh crowning

against her growing heat, her

I’m here…

She’s here…

don’t want simply to plunge into

I could open her with fingers,

that. I’ve waited too long for

want to extend the moment. I want her to come for me. I want to hear her as she orgasms,

I disengage…

She shifts, protesting… “Larry…”

And I slide down her body; her

You’ve barely aged…

breasts perhaps are a little softer

of course… you’re

rhythms of her

curving over

marks a touch of stretching, but it’s faded, barely visible. I kiss it, then the indent of

the gleaming copper at her loins, threads

a warm musk which clings to my lips as I mouth over her, then

waiting for me. The unfurling seam of her pussy glistens, the flesh swelling, and as I

parted, but now she strains wider, raising herself

gasping. She’s liquid and liquifying. Hot and heating further. And, already fragrant, her perfume grows stronger by the

any longer. Parting her lips with paired thumbs, I open her and plunging my tongue in deep, I revel in the taste of her, the scent

every suck of

of my head, and as I return to her clit, the nails dig into my

“Oh… God…”

the tiny thing, I take it between my lips, pressing with the

tongue around her

pelvis shudders against me, and I plant my hands under

against me, save for a pulsating resonance that grows by

She howls…

arched thighs and hips and spine,

muscle and bone, spilling against my chin and neck and splashing

at her sweet spot, extending

and laughing… “Enough, Larry.

hands on her inner thighs. Her smile is broad, her eyes… those

“Good?” I ask.

“Oh, God, yes.”

smile turns impish. “I think that makes it your

it does. But it can

on me as I move