A hot drink

She shimmies down, making sure he feels the sensation of her big breasts brushing against his body on the way down. Until she’s on her knees, looking up at him with wicked anticipation.

Even he realises, with a start, what she has in mind. “N-no, really, you don’t have to—”

“Well, I want to. If you don’t object.”

“I don’t—” He probably wasn’t planning to say I don’t object, but he doesn’t finish objecting, either. His hands hover, determined not to **** her, but also not prepared to push her away…

And so she takes her chance. Unfastening his tros – yes, she made those wet too – and releasing that hard length that’s been straining inside them. Whatever Colin’s hesitation, Colin’s cock has its own ideas, standing proud and ready. Amy smiles up at him before she goes in for a quick lick – and he doesn’t stop her. A quick stroke, guiding, angling – and he doesn’t stop her. Her mouth at the head of it, beginning to taste – and he doesn’t stop her. One last lick of her lips, and she begins to take it in.

Warmth. Eager hardness. The taste of him, sliding over her tongue. And she feels the shudder of his straining breaths as his pleasure builds – so that she can’t help but feel her own excitement rise. Her hands slips between her own legs as she urges herself on as well; the buildup of her own pleasure to a muted but real thrill. A taste of what could be to come.

And speaking of what could be to come. He stammers to warn her, but she doesn’t pull back; she braces. And as she feels him shake, his hands on the table to stop his knees buckling, she accepts the hot rush of his load, swallowing it down, its warmth a delight on this night that began cold and lonely.

It won’t be cold or lonely from here.