It had been a week since that night—her first time touching herself, her first solo orgasm. We hadn't rushed anything after that. We didn’t need to. Something had opened up between us, and it was still blooming—slowly, beautifully.
That night, we were lying in bed again. The wind outside had picked up, brushing through the trees, but inside, the room was warm, lit only by the golden flicker of the wood stove. Regina was in her nightgown, lying on her side, reading from Deuteronomy with her legs tucked up against me. I’d always found it sexy, how seriously she took her faith. The contrast of her innocence and the rawness she’d been exploring lately—it was irresistible.
She set the Bible aside and turned toward me. “I can’t stop thinking about what you did for me,” she said softly.
I kissed her shoulder. “It was my joy to watch you discover that.”
She looked down, then back up at me. “I want to feel that again… but I also want to give something back.”
“You don’t have to,” I whispered, already hard just from the way she looked at me—bare-faced, flushed, wanting.
“I know. But I want to.”
I sat up slightly and let my hand drift under the blanket, over her hip, and then down, easing her nightgown up. Her legs parted instinctively, and I felt her heat—wet, soft, ready.
“Let me taste you,” I said, my voice low, reverent.
She bit her lip, nodding.
I kissed down her belly, sliding between her thighs. Her scent filled me as I spread her gently open, my thumbs parting her lips so I could find her clit with the tip of my tongue.
The moment I touched her, she let out a breathy moan and pressed her thighs around my shoulders. I took my time, licking slowly, teasing her with soft flicks, then flattening my tongue against her until her back arched off the mattress.
“William…” she gasped. “It’s so much…”
I didn’t stop. I wanted her to drown in it.
I sucked gently, circled her clit, let her hips guide me. Her fingers knotted in the blankets, her moans rising. When her orgasm came, it rushed through her like a wave—tight thighs, shaking legs, a whispered cry of my name.
She pulled me up, her lips on mine, tasting herself, her hands trembling as she reached for my cock. “Your turn,” she said.
I laid back, heart pounding, as she wrapped her fingers around me. Her grip was tentative but warm, growing steadier with each stroke.
“Show me what you like,” she whispered.
I guided her at first—just a touch here, a twist there. She watched every reaction I made, hungry to learn. Her fingers slid over my slick shaft, working me slowly, deliberately.
“I love watching you,” I breathed.
That made her bolder. She leaned over and kissed the tip, then used her other hand to cup my balls, stroking me with growing rhythm.
I groaned, hips bucking. “Just like that, baby… yes…”
It didn’t take long. Between the taste of her still on my lips and the sight of her biting her bottom lip, focused entirely on my pleasure, I came with a long, aching groan, spurting onto her hand and belly.
She looked up at me with wide eyes, then smiled. “That
was… amazing.”
I pulled her into my arms, kissing her deeply.
“We’re really doing this,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” I said. “And we’ve only scratched the surface.”
—
A few nights later, the snow came.
It wasn’t much, just a few inches, but enough to quiet the world around us. The trees stood still under their powdery coats, the stars above piercing the crisp dark sky. I was reading by the fire when she padded in barefoot, her cheeks glowing, a spark in her eyes.
“Come with me,” she said.
“To where?”
“You’ll see,” she answered with a sly smile. “Just bring your robe.”
I followed her to the back door, and when she opened it, steam poured out. She’d fired up the hot tub.
“You started it up?” I asked, stunned.
She nodded. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
We dropped our robes and stepped out into the cold. The snow nipped at our skin, but the moment we sank into the hot water, it all melted away—literally and figuratively. She climbed into my lap, her breasts just above the surface, her thighs around me.
“I want to take care of you again,” she whispered, moving her hips slowly against me. “But I also want to feel you with me… like this.”
She reached down, guided me into her, and gasped as I filled her. The contrast of the cold air and scalding water made it feel surreal or other worldly.
She rode me slowly, water rippling with her rhythm, snow falling on her bare shoulders. I held her tight, watching her fall into herself—bold and free.
Her orgasm came suddenly, her cry lost in the trees, and I followed, spilling into her with a groan that echoed in the forest.
We stayed there a little longer, holding each other, letting the steam and snow and afterglow blur together. The world was quiet—just the soft hiss of the water jets and the hush of snowfall around us.
Eventually, we climbed out, shivering and laughing as we reached for our robes. Regina wrapped hers around herself, then reached for a towel and began gently patting me dry, her eyes soft, her touch loving. I returned the favor, warming her skin with every stroke.
Inside, we hung our things to dry and crawled into bed naked, bodies still tingling from the contrast of hot water and cold air. She curled into my chest, one leg hooked over mine, her breath steady and slow.
“I never imagined we’d be like this,” she murmured.
“Me neither,” I said, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Outside, the snow kept falling. Inside, we were warm—body, heart, and soul.
And as sleep found us, I knew one thing for sure: we were just getting started.
That night, we were lying in bed again. The wind outside had picked up, brushing through the trees, but inside, the room was warm, lit only by the golden flicker of the wood stove. Regina was in her nightgown, lying on her side, reading from Deuteronomy with her legs tucked up against me. I’d always found it sexy, how seriously she took her faith. The contrast of her innocence and the rawness she’d been exploring lately—it was irresistible.
She set the Bible aside and turned toward me. “I can’t stop thinking about what you did for me,” she said softly.
I kissed her shoulder. “It was my joy to watch you discover that.”
She looked down, then back up at me. “I want to feel that again… but I also want to give something back.”
“You don’t have to,” I whispered, already hard just from the way she looked at me—bare-faced, flushed, wanting.
“I know. But I want to.”
I sat up slightly and let my hand drift under the blanket, over her hip, and then down, easing her nightgown up. Her legs parted instinctively, and I felt her heat—wet, soft, ready.
“Let me taste you,” I said, my voice low, reverent.
She bit her lip, nodding.
I kissed down her belly, sliding between her thighs. Her scent filled me as I spread her gently open, my thumbs parting her lips so I could find her clit with the tip of my tongue.
The moment I touched her, she let out a breathy moan and pressed her thighs around my shoulders. I took my time, licking slowly, teasing her with soft flicks, then flattening my tongue against her until her back arched off the mattress.
“William…” she gasped. “It’s so much…”
I didn’t stop. I wanted her to drown in it.
I sucked gently, circled her clit, let her hips guide me. Her fingers knotted in the blankets, her moans rising. When her orgasm came, it rushed through her like a wave—tight thighs, shaking legs, a whispered cry of my name.
She pulled me up, her lips on mine, tasting herself, her hands trembling as she reached for my cock. “Your turn,” she said.
I laid back, heart pounding, as she wrapped her fingers around me. Her grip was tentative but warm, growing steadier with each stroke.
“Show me what you like,” she whispered.
I guided her at first—just a touch here, a twist there. She watched every reaction I made, hungry to learn. Her fingers slid over my slick shaft, working me slowly, deliberately.
“I love watching you,” I breathed.
That made her bolder. She leaned over and kissed the tip, then used her other hand to cup my balls, stroking me with growing rhythm.
I groaned, hips bucking. “Just like that, baby… yes…”
It didn’t take long. Between the taste of her still on my lips and the sight of her biting her bottom lip, focused entirely on my pleasure, I came with a long, aching groan, spurting onto her hand and belly.
She looked up at me with wide eyes, then smiled. “That
was… amazing.”
I pulled her into my arms, kissing her deeply.
“We’re really doing this,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” I said. “And we’ve only scratched the surface.”
—
A few nights later, the snow came.
It wasn’t much, just a few inches, but enough to quiet the world around us. The trees stood still under their powdery coats, the stars above piercing the crisp dark sky. I was reading by the fire when she padded in barefoot, her cheeks glowing, a spark in her eyes.
“Come with me,” she said.
“To where?”
“You’ll see,” she answered with a sly smile. “Just bring your robe.”
I followed her to the back door, and when she opened it, steam poured out. She’d fired up the hot tub.
“You started it up?” I asked, stunned.
She nodded. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
We dropped our robes and stepped out into the cold. The snow nipped at our skin, but the moment we sank into the hot water, it all melted away—literally and figuratively. She climbed into my lap, her breasts just above the surface, her thighs around me.
“I want to take care of you again,” she whispered, moving her hips slowly against me. “But I also want to feel you with me… like this.”
She reached down, guided me into her, and gasped as I filled her. The contrast of the cold air and scalding water made it feel surreal or other worldly.
She rode me slowly, water rippling with her rhythm, snow falling on her bare shoulders. I held her tight, watching her fall into herself—bold and free.
Her orgasm came suddenly, her cry lost in the trees, and I followed, spilling into her with a groan that echoed in the forest.
We stayed there a little longer, holding each other, letting the steam and snow and afterglow blur together. The world was quiet—just the soft hiss of the water jets and the hush of snowfall around us.
Eventually, we climbed out, shivering and laughing as we reached for our robes. Regina wrapped hers around herself, then reached for a towel and began gently patting me dry, her eyes soft, her touch loving. I returned the favor, warming her skin with every stroke.
Inside, we hung our things to dry and crawled into bed naked, bodies still tingling from the contrast of hot water and cold air. She curled into my chest, one leg hooked over mine, her breath steady and slow.
“I never imagined we’d be like this,” she murmured.
“Me neither,” I said, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Outside, the snow kept falling. Inside, we were warm—body, heart, and soul.
And as sleep found us, I knew one thing for sure: we were just getting started.
