Snowy Sleep-over with S . . .

The weeks prior to the Christmas break had been really hectic and not practical, for one reason or another, to meet up with S. We’d discussed tentative dates on numerous occasions (we talk regularly as S calls me several mornings a week when I’m on my way in to the office) but family, or work events, always seemed to conflict.

We were finally able to agree on the Monday evening before Christmas. Initially we were to meet in Hampstead at our normal Italian, but as I was freshening-up in the office S texted to ask me to call. Everyone in the office had earlier been looking out the windows as snow had started falling, but from our office several floors up it hadn’t looked like settling and I’d thought nothing more about it. But S was now telling me that “traffic was a nightmare” and that out in the suburbs it certainly was settling and causing major problems. He suggested that instead of getting a taxi I should get a tube and he’d meet me at the station. Even as I left the office and walked to the tube the snow didn’t seem to be settling and the traffic appeared to be moving as it normally does in the West End. But, just as I was about to descend into the station S called again. Traffic was so bad he was going to try to drive straight to the hotel and said I should take a different branch and get off at the Station which was nearer to our hotel, and he’d meet me there.

It wasn’t until I actually reached my destination and got out to street level that I realised the problems he’d been having. The traffic was backed-up in a long line stretching in both directions all the way along the road and whilst it seemed as though the road itself had been gritted, the side roads and the pavements certainly hadn’t. S was nowhere to be seen . . . I called and he answered immediately, saying he’d managed to park at the hotel and had started walking to meet me. I set-off in the direction of the hotel, cursing under my breath that my boots were clearly not ideal footwear for the slippery pavements. I was not the only one struggling amidst quite a crowd of people gingerly making their way along the footpath. I’d been walking about ten minutes, with several pauses to call, or answer calls from S to liaise on each others progress, before we met. As we retraced his footsteps back towards the hotel we crossed over several side-roads which rose up on what would normally seem quite gentle inclines from the main road, but the cold and lack of gritting meant that the ice was causing the cars trying to get in or out to slide treacherously. The snow had stopped falling by the time we reached the hotel, but it was clear that the main intersection on the corner was almost completely grid-locked.

The lobby was warm and welcoming and as soon as we got to our room I collapsed onto the bed and told S I’d love to have a bath. As he started running the water I browsed through the room service menu and suggested we order some food to “snack on . . . and a large bottle of wine!” He made the call as I undressed and slid into the warmth and bubbles of my bath. He sat next to me and joked that the carpark downstairs had looked “frozen-solid” when we’d arrived back. I’d texted J whilst S had been running the bath. There’d been no reply but now as soaked my phone beeped. S brought it over to me. It was J asking me to call if I could. I phoned him straight back, I knew he’d been working out in Essex and was now worried if he’d managed to get home yet. He hadn’t, he was close to home but stuck in a tail-back and traffic wasn’t moving at all. He suggested it might be easier if I “stayed put for the night”. S’s face beamed when I told him what J was suggesting. (I hadn’t stayed out for “a sleepover” since I’d stopped seeing M two years ago. J had never actually said he didn’t like me doing it, but I “know” that he much prefers me to come home, so . . . )

I told S it was still early yet, and that the snow had stopped, and although it wouldn’t be a problem for me to “have a late meeting and have to stay in town” for the evening, how would he explain it to his wife??? I wrapped myself in a towel and sat on the toilet seat whilst he showered. He turned on the television, whilst we waited for room service, to see what the weather forecast for the evening was. Sure enough the “traffic chaos” as all over the news. We continued to watch after our food and wine arrived, it seemed bizarre to be sitting together . . . wrapped in our towels, snacking and sipping . . . watching TV !!!

It was already getting quite late. I slid my hand under his towel, he was soft . . . but warm. I asked “what are you going to do? You’d better call if you want to be staying all night”. He got up and walked to the window to peek out of the curtains. The window looked directly down to one of the busiest roads in North London. He said traffic was moving but still backed-up for miles. He picked-up his phone and called home. I could tell from the conversation that he was talking to one of his children, his wife was watching “her program” and wouldn’t come to the phone. I couldn’t believe it! But could tell that S was relieved to be able to ask that his son pass on the message that he’d be “staying overnight in Central”.

He bounced back onto the bed reaching for my towel, but I held it tight telling him he first had to make sure his phone was turned on to voicemail and the volume was turned off. We slid into an embrace for a few minutes, he was quite erect now, and I enjoyed slapping him gently on it as I told him to get back up and turn the TV and the main room lights off. As he got back onto the bed he told me he’d wanted to spend a whole night with me for years . . . and although I didn’t answer, other than to reach up to meet his kiss . . . I felt myself tingling with excitement as well.

His hand slid down between my legs and he pulled away a little to start kissing and sucking at my breasts. I was moaning already, and feeling really aroused as he slid his tongue around my nipples and his fingers were rubbing over my pussy. I opened my legs wider for him and gasped as I felt his fingers sliding in. He does such lovely things with his fingers . . . we adjusted ourselves on the bed as he slid further down to start following his fingers with his tongue. I was whispering him to “eat me” and holding his head gently as it bobbed up and down on me as his tongue flicked and licked, and his fingers pushed and probed. I lifted his hand up to my mouth to suck three fingers in and swirl my tongue around them. “This many?” I asked as I pushed them back down to my pussy again. He groaned that he knew I “could take more”.

I was writhing and bucking against his hand . . . he had it cupped so that his fingers were stroking in and out whilst his palm and wrist were rubbing over my clit . . . I could feel it sliding and scraping, and his fingers sliding and pushing. He pulled away and then knelt in between my legs. I reached down to hold him and guide his cock into me. He had a hand on each of my knees and I could see him looking straight down at my pussy. “Can you see my button?” I asked him as I reached down with my fingers and held my lips open with one hand whilst I rubbed round and round with the other. I was coming with little shudders as he stroked in and out . . . until I couldn’t take it any longer and had to push him gently away and roll over onto my tummy.

He got up off the bed and I continued to rock myself from side to side. “Incredible” he said as he knelt back beside me. I nodded and groaned into the pillow as though he was asking me a question . . . but then shivered with the feel of his fingers sliding slippery gel between my legs. “God let me get my breath back!” I turned back to look at him. He lay down behind me kissing my shoulder and neck, and stroking my back and bottom. He apologised that he’d just got carried away. We lay for awhile. I turned my head to lay on the other cheek so that I could see him, and reached down to start stroking him as we chatted. He was still hard, really hard and smooth. I cupped my hand and asked him for some gel and then lifted myself up on one elbow so that I could slide it up and down on him. He leant forward as I lay myself back down onto the bed, pulling the pillow down under my chest for support. His fingers felt wet and slippery sliding over my pussy and then up between my cheeks. I felt him kneeling up between my legs as I let myself twist on his fingers pushing up into my pussy again. I could feel the fingers of his other hand playing with me where he wanted to be, and then the hardness of him sliding over my cheek.

I so, so wanted to make up to him for the last time we’d met, and the excitement of our “night together” and the wonderful feelings of his fingers sliding round in front of me, made me feel more aroused and more wanton. I was completely engulfed by the moment, and heard myself telling him “come on, come on” as we rocked back and forth against each other. His fingers were everywhere . . . one hand pinching at my lips, the other reaching up to my nipples. I lifted myself up to then squash them down on the palm of his hand and then lifting again to let him scrape it across to the other nipple . . . and then back again. I could feel myself going to come again, trying to hold against it, sliding one hand down to clamp it over his knuckles as he still played with my pussy, whilst I reached with my other hand round behind us trying to hold his hip and push against him, urging him deeper into me whilst we tried to balance against each other as we each continued our thrusting and pushing. I couldn’t hold it any longer and fell forward gasping and groaning as we came apart. I heard him gasping as well and then felt him splashing it over me for an instant before his weight pushed me down onto the bed. Our writhing and convulsions continued as we rolled together on our sides, him pulling me back into his chest and then rocking forwards again to roll back on top of me. We rolled apart with final moans of satisfaction and then he cuddled into me again, kissing me on my shoulder and neck as before.

We lay not moving or talking, for ages and ages, just each breathing heavily, before I lifted up and rolled over to cuddle into him. I joked that normally by now he’d having to be waking me up to start getting ready to make our way home. I got up to stagger to the bathroom, and then asked him to turn back the sheets so that we could get into bed “properly”. I picked up the wine from the table on my return and stood next to him topping up our glasses before climbing in beside him. “At least you can have a drink tonight” I said. He replied that being able to have a drink was the very least exciting thing about being able to spend the night with me. We sat back beside each other, pulling the sheets up around ourselves, sipping at our wine and chatting more about each of our family arrangements for Christmas. I snuggled down onto his chest after I’d emptied my glass and we talked more of the coming weekend. His hands began to wander again, but I told him I was feeling “really nice and comfy. I just want cuddles now, I can’t do anymore of that tonight! Just be thankful we can cuddle together all night”.

“I love having my cunt licked in the morning!” I whispered to him as I looked down at him. We’d woken together and I’d felt his erection against my thigh before he pulled the sheets half off us and slid down the bed beside me. I stroked his hair as he rolled over me and onto his tummy between my legs. He continued his kissing and licking, pulling away to let me push both my hands down between us so that I could slide my lips apart for him. When he leant forward again I felt his tongue pushing hard over me, sliding down to push inside and then moving back up over my clit again. “Oh, I really like that” I told him. It did feel nice, really nice, but I wanted him inside me. I lifted myself up to start pulling him up on me and he just seemed to slide upwards in one movement, his chest sliding over mine and as his chin and lips met mine in a lovely wet and passionate kiss, his erection just guided itself in as if all in one movement. “Ohh” I gasped into his ear as I locked my legs around his bottom. It was lovely as he balanced himself over me with his hands either side of me onto the bed, and I leant up into him with my chin resting on his shoulder and my arms around his back.

The rhythm of his rocking began increasing, getting quicker and quicker, and his moans getting louder and louder. I could hear him gasping and pulling away and out, and then pushing forward, his willy rubbing up over my pussy. I let myself slide further down, still hanging onto him in our sling position, but feeling his cock sliding back and forth over my tummy. I looked down between us and as he thrust forward again with a loud groan, I saw, and then felt, a huge spurt as it splashed out over my tummy. More spurts followed, one after the other, as he swung forwards against me again . . . then as our arms gave way, he fell forwards onto me, our tummies squelching and sliding together. He was gasping with loud groans . . . and I was giggling with first the satisfaction of seeing and hearing him like that . . . and then with the ticklish sensation of his come dribbling and sticking on me as he rolled off me onto his side. We were both laughing now with the mess he’d made, but I had to jump up searching for one of our towels from the floor as the cold air and the dribbling on my skin was making me more ticklish. I dried myself off and then spread the towel out on the bed before lying down next to him. “Happy?” I asked him. “Just the best” was his reply.

We showered and lounged, taking turns to peek out through the curtains at the roads below. No snow, traffic moving freely. We agreed it would be more civilised to go down for breakfast, rather than ordering room service again, though I felt uncomfortable that I didn’t have a change of clothes or underwear. They told us that they had a man clearing the carpark so that cars could get out, and S said he’d take me home so that I could change before work (the hotel is only a few miles from home). But I told him I could hardly walk in on my daughter having her breakfast when I was supposed to have stayed overnight in the West End!. I had spare knickers in my drawer at the office, and was trying to convince myself that that would be perfectly fine . . . but I had no choice, I just couldn’t go home. I sent a text to J to tell him everything was fine and that S would take me to the station. His text back was “can’t wait to hear about it”.

Once we were out of the carpark the roads were actually fine . . . it seemed unbelievable that there had been such chaos the previous night. But as S dropped me off at the Station and we exchanged our goodbye kisses, he said “I wish it would snow like that more often !!”

Best wishes - Edith