Saturday, December 14, 2013

Blissemas Kissmas: A Smooch from "Out of the Cold"

Victoria Blisse has organized a wonderful little tour of winter kisses.  By commenting, you've got a chance to win your choice of Blissemas prizes--and they're amazing!  Here at Donuts and Desires I'm supplying a wintery kiss from my story "Out of the Cold" which is available on its own from eXcessica, or in the popular Holiday Romance Box Set!

Geeky Amira met Keith in a First Aid training course.  She was too shy to ask for his email address, so she swiped it from his registration form.  Taking a big chance, she exchanged some very racy emails with him, starting with this one:

In my fantasy, it’s five in the morning and I wake up to a tapping sound at my bedroom window.  When my eyes finally focus, I realize it’s you crouching outside my basement apartment.  I’m glad you didn’t go to the front door.  See, my auntie and my cousins live upstairs and they’re a very nosy bunch.

You want me to let you in, you say?  I smile slyly, while I mull the idea over.

“How discourteous of you to show up unannounced,” I tease.  “And at such an unseemly hour!  You’ve caught me in nothing but a nightie.”

To punish you, I take my time in coming to the window.  Will I open it and allow you inside, out of the cold?  Or won’t I?  I haven’t decided yet.  At least, that’s what I pretend.

Tossing my blankets down to my feet, I stretch like a cat, allowing a lot of flesh to peek out from under my black silk negligee.  I roll out of bed and climb onto my big comfy reading chair under the window.  You certainly do look cold, crouching out there in the five a.m. frost.

Bet you’d love to come inside, wouldn’t you?

Reaching over my bookshelf, I release the lock on my window and open it to let you in.  My face and shoulders are assaulted by a gust of winter wind as I take your freezing hand.  I’m relieved that my bookshelf doesn’t collapse when you climb down to safety.  The winter chill accompanies you into my bedroom, but I’m too interested in your body to bother with the window.

You’re cold.  You’re so cold I shiver.

“Next time you should wear a hat!” I instruct you.  “You lose most of your body heat through your head, you know.  Don’t worry, I’ll knit you one.  I’m a whiz with two needles and a ball of wool.”

Unzipping your fleece-lined winter jacket, I tear it from your shoulders.  I pull your gloves off too.  Your heart is pounding.  You tell me you shouldn’t be here, we’ll get into trouble.  My auntie will surely catch us and then I’ll never hear the end of it.

I’m not concerned.  I want you too badly to care about propriety, so I sit you down on my comfy chair and pull your grey sweatshirt over your head.  “You can’t leave without your clothes, now can you?”  With my help, you struggle out of your Montreal Canadiens T-shirt, tossing it impatiently onto the floor.

So this is what you look like topless.

Gazing at your smooth chest, I run my hands along its contours in the early morning glow of the winter moon.  I want to feel it against me, but not before I get the rest of these clothes off you.  You shiver from your excursion through the snow, so I take a cozy fleece blanket out of my cedar chest and wrap it around your shoulders.  The silk of my black negligee brushes dangerously close to your cheek. Your scent is masculine and cool, like hockey rink coupled with deep sleep.

The darkness feels conspicuous now, so I light every candle I can find.  My cinnamon skin glows with an orange tint and yours looks golden in the candlelight.

I watch you watching me as I kneel to take off your snow-covered boots.  They’re soaking my bedroom carpet, but I’ll worry about that later.  Leaning forward, I showcase my ample cleavage, dying for freedom from the silk that encloses it.  Oh, my breasts are so cold from the winter air. Your feet are freezing too, underneath your sports socks, so I rub them quickly between my warm hands.  But my hands aren’t warm enough to defrost your poor toes, so I release warm breath upon them.

That’s better.  Nice and toasty warm.

When I slowly unzip your jeans, you raise your butt so I can pull them off.  With all the confidence I can muster, I remove your underwear.  I’m impressed.  So are you, it would appear.  Your handsome cock is looking straight at me.  He’s not cold.  No, he’s red-hot and heat-seeking.

Rising to my feet, I get a good look at your body glowing golden in the candlelight.  I am so glad you came.  You have no idea how long it’s been…

Shaking my hips like a belly dancer, I remove my black silk negligee, tossing it at your head.  You catch the scent of my sleepy skin, dark and feminine, as I crawl into your lap.  Your skin is still cold.  Frozen.  Mine is warm.  Hot.

Wrapping my arms around your chilly back, I shift my body close to you underneath the fleece blanket.  There’s fire in your eyes, dark desire.  I’ve been wanting this since we met.  You’ve been wanting it too, but you didn’t know how to find me until I got in touch.  You didn’t even know my last name.

We gaze deep into each other’s eyes.  There’s a moment of not knowing.  Will you kiss me?  Of course you will.  I’m sitting naked in your lap. But maybe you won’t...maybe you’ll change your mind right now and leave.

You lean forward, into my aura of warmth.  I gasp as your lips part mine.  Your kiss is hungry, your mouth sweltering.  By contrast, your hands are cold against my back, making me shudder.  Cool to the touch but sizzling on the inside, my body cries out, my tongue wrestling yours.  A fight to the symbolic death.

I kiss you hard, pinning you to the back of the chair, running my hands through your shaggy auburn hair.  One kiss and my cunt is screaming for you.  When your palms hug my ass, my arms tighten around your core.

That feels so good...

But there's a twist to this saucy New Year's tale, and if you want to find out more you'll have to grab a copy of Out of the Cold:

or Holiday Romance Box Set: 3 Multicultural Erotic Novellas

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