“Don't stop,” I beg of him, “Don't stop.” My body opens up until there is nowhere else to go.
“God, you're so perfect,” he tells me, “you're so fucking perfect.”
He comes inside me and the feeling is unlike anything I've experienced before, feeling so full, making me feel so alive, making me feel like I am his now and forever.
“Now,” I say, licking my lips. “It’s time for you to come in my pussy.”
Filson
This moment, the one right here with Maple on her back, is the one I've been dreaming about for three weeks. Ever since we made love for the very first time.
But this time it's better, sweeter and more definite because this isn't about pent-up passion. It's about the words we've spoken, the I love yous we both finally said out loud. Her showing up here at the cabin filled my heart with so much relief I nearly choked up at the sight of her in that pink coat, that pink hat, her red hair spilling over her shoulders. My emotions practically spilled out too.
“I love you, Maple St. Claire,” I say again and again. “I love you.” I breathe out as we stare deeply into one another's eyes. The connection between us is as real as anything I’ve ever known.
When we were young, I loved her because she made me feel safe and seen and special. Those were the things my six-year-old heart needed.
Now as we gaze into each other's eyes, I realize those are the same things I need today. And it's what I found when I held her for the first time. God, all I want in the world is to give her those things in return.
Our fingers lace and our hands move slowly over one another’s skin. We’ve moved fast and furious, dirty and delicious. Now it's time for something soft, something sweet, something more tender than my gritty heart knew I was capable of. Now it's time to make love to the woman I cherish. And later, I will tell her the rest, when the moment is right. I will tell her things that will change everything, the future. And I hope it will all be for the better.
“What are you thinking?” she asks me, her fingers running over my chest. She's looking at my skin as if memorizing every detail of me.
“I’m thinking about how I wish this moment could last a lifetime.”
She smiles, her eyes closing as she licks her lips. “I'm still surprised that a grinch like you could be such a softy.”
I grunt. “I’ve been a fool, haven’t I?”
She shakes her head. “No, you shoveled my granny's best friend's front sidewalk and driveway after the first snow this year. You apparently go to the retirement home and visit with the vets who have no family. You may act like a grinch, but I've realized you are the kindest man I know.”
“We should have never gone to that wreath-making class,” I say with a chuckle. “You learned all my dirty secrets.”
“Those weren't dirty, Filson. They were beautiful.”
“You're pretty generous yourself,” I remind her, “you run a soup kitchen.”
“Ran a soup kitchen.” She sighs and I see the sadness in her eyes.
“The fundraiser is going to work,” I say. “Jody and Isaiah are going to throw a gala and the whole town is going to show up tossing loads of money at you. Money that should have been given to you for a long time.”
“Maybe,” she says, “but maybe it's time for that season in my life to end. Everything goes in a circle, doesn't it? Winter follows fall. It can't always be summer. Sometimes there has to be the snow falling.”
“Yeah, but the snow thaws and spring comes again.” I wipe the tears from her eyes.
“I don't want to let the soup kitchen go,” she says.
“Then don’t.”
“Maybe I'm being stubborn. Maybe it's going to be okay if it doesn't stay open past Christmas.”
“Hey,” I say. “Don't give up hope.”
“How do you have hope?” She asks me, looking into my eyes, searching for some sort of meaning. “How did you find hope after so many terrible things happened to you when you were younger?”
I run my hands over her body, drawing her close to me. She feels my thick cock between us and I long to sink it into her sweet, sweet cunt.
“I have hope because I held onto things I knew were true. And I believed in myself even if no one else did.”
“I need to be stronger,” she says.
“But when you feel weak, let me pick you up,” I say. “Let me carry you when times are hard.”
“You really want to be that person for me?”
I nod, drawing her close. “I want to be everything you need, Maple.”
She exhales, her hand running over my growing shaft. “Right now, this is exactly what I need.”
Now in my arms, there's a vulnerability to Maple I always thought was right beneath the surface. So many people see her as a put-together girl, made of perfection, when really, she struggles just like everyone else, just like me, to find her place. To belong in the world. She's scared to let people down, to let herself down and God, isn't that something we can all relate to? All connect to.
Maple may look candy cane perfection, but she's also a girl gazing up at me as I lean over her, stroking my cock as I kiss her soft full lips. She's a girl wanting to be loved, and God, how I love her. How I need her. And now I won't let her go.
We move to the same music, our bodies joining as one. I take her the way she needs. Soft and slow. Neither of us is in a hurry; outside the snow falls, the fire crackles across the room. The dog is curled up in a ball.
We're in a cabin, nestled in the mountainside, tucked away from the rest of the world, but we aren't here to hide. We're here to be found in one another's arms. We're here to be seen the way we've always craved. Maple sees me and God, I see her.
“God, I love you,” I moan as my thick cock enters her slick pussy.
“I love you too,” she says, looking up at me with eyes of wonder, gasping as I fill her entirely. It feels so right to be inside her. She's so tight and warm, wrapped around me like a Christmas gift.
I wrap my arms around her, cradling her close, kissing her all over — her neck, her ears, her cheeks, her lips, her nose. She smiles as we make love, wanting to make this last forever. Her smile is full of grace. A smile that I hope to see every day for the rest of my goddamn life.
“What are you thinking?” she asks again.
“I'm thinking that this is the best night of my life.”
She blinks and a single tear rolls down her cheek. “Mine too, Filson Barre. Mine too.”
We finish, wrapped up in one another as we come hard, as we come slow. We manage to get up and make hot chocolate with marshmallows in both our mugs. Christmas is two days away, but it feels like it’s already here. We don't talk about the house, about what she's leaving behind, or about where she might go. It's not the time for that.
Right now, it’s time for hope.
We drink our hot chocolate naked, and it’s hard to focus on anything but her lush curves. It doesn't take long for us to set the mugs aside and for me to pick her up and set her on the countertop. She gasps in delight as I fill her up again. She wraps her arms around me and laughs in glee, tossing back her head, her hair swishing down her back.