Going Down In Smoke (NSFW)

Smoke Me

Going Down In Smoke

It had been a pleasant afternoon ride. Long, down her favorite trail, with the perfect level of challenge. She hadn’t, after all, really known the new guy she’d taken out, the one from ‘down the way’.

“That stall’s empty.” She pointed. “You could feed and water Moirai there if you don’t want to use the paddock.”

“Sounds good. Thanks.”

Good-looking. Eyes such a deep green, Lia thought as they saw to the horses. Wonder why I hadn’t noticed that?

“Because I’ve never been this close to you before.”

Lia blushed. “I didn’t mean to say that aloud.”

“You didn’t.”

She spun, surprised at how close he was. “What … how … are you some sort of psychic?”

Sam laughed. “Thank you for not calling me ‘warlock’. I’m a witch, Lia, same as you, though you haven’t been aware of it. But Samhain is almost here; it’s time.”

She found she couldn’t look away from those jade eyes. “Time,” she whispered, “for what?” A sudden image came to her, of them down by the firepit, making love.

“Yes, I like your thoughts, Lia. Let’s make that one a reality. The first moments of Samhain would be perfect.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Perhaps. But you find me attractive, and I want you.” He glanced down and her eyes followed his.

She drew in a breath, hoping he hadn’t heard, knowing he had. He was undeniably well-endowed.

He laid his hands on her waist and urged her toward the south end of the barn. “I want to watch Samhain come, while we come, Lia.”

Lia turned to look at him as he stared at the sun grazing the horizon. The crimson and saffron and violet hues of the dying day were reflected against the jade of his irises.

“We’ve time. Let’s light the fire. Both of us love the smell of smoke, the dancing flame,” he whispered into her ear on his way to nuzzle the join of her neck and shoulder. After a moment, he exerted the effort to pull away and tugged her to the firepit.

The fire caught quickly. Good. It’s crazy, but god, I want him!

He groaned. Too late, she remembered he could hear her thoughts. What was that all about? She needed answers.

“After Samhain comes — and we do — if you still have questions, I’ll answer them all, I promise. Right now …” Sam shrugged off his sherpa jacket and spread it on the ground. “Our love bed. Do you mind that it doesn’t have satin sheets?”

She shook her head and handed him her jacket as well. While he was arranging that, she unbuttoned her shirt. The sun had set nearly halfway, and somehow, she knew they needed to be making love when Samhain started. We need to come when Samhain comes, he said, or something like that.

“Yes, Lia,” he murmured as he straightened up and took in the sight of her open shirt. “God, no bra? Were you thinking of me when you dressed?” He unbuttoned his shirt and shucked it, then cupped her cheeks in his hands.

His kiss was slow, though there was undeniable need in the way his tongue traced the outline of her lips. When they were naked to the waist, he embraced her and groaned, grinding against her. “God, this is as good as coming with most women. Or men. I’ve needed you, Lia.”

She groaned in response and each fumbled with the other’s belt buckle. Fly buttons slipped free and Sam pulled away, moaning at the sight of the smoke curing around her naked breasts.

“I go commando, Lia,” he explained. “Neither of us want anything caught.” He toed his boots off, and eased his zipper down, watching Lia follow each move of his hand. His cock clamored for freedom, leading to captivity in a softer, wetter prison. She laid her hands on his hips and slid his jeans down slowly, kneeling as she did.

“I can guess what’s been on your mind.” She met his eyes and extended her tongue to gather the sweetness of pre-cum.

“God, that’s so fucking good,” he groaned as she sucked softly. “Stop. I don’t want to come so soon.”

Lia pulled away and stood. “Then get those jeans completely off and lie with me.” Her own jeans hit the ground while he was kicking his away.

The fragrance of the fire — leaves and the last of the cherry trees she’d had to replace in the spring — soothed the traces of anxiety her own boldness caused. Billowing smoke mimicked lace curtains in the wind, first obscuring and then revealing them as they explored.

Sam cupped her breasts, lowered his mouth to suckle as he drew her down to their sherpa love bed. “The sun. It will be Samhain very soon. Will it take you long to come, baby?”

“Not if you ….”

“What, Lia? Tell me.”

“Go down on me, Sam.”

He groaned and turned along her. “Will you go down on me?”

She answered with her tongue sliding down from his navel, avoiding the cock he frantically shoved at her and instead drawing his balls into her mouth, releasing them only moments later to lick from base to tip of his cock. He groaned, seeking — and finding — her clitoris to flick and suck.

The sun spoke to them when he was just a sliver above the horizon. Sam redoubled his tonguing and Lia sped up the stroking of her hand along his length as she sucked the head. She could hear him, suddenly, though she knew he wasn’t speaking; his mouth and tongue were far too busy for that. God, I’m coming, so good, so fucking good. Now, Lia, come now!

The orgasm was fireworks along her nerves, a percussive explosion followed by stars behind her eyelids as the aftershocks subsided. She was aware of his coming, needing suddenly to swallow again and again.

In near unison, the thoughts:

Sam, yes — Samael, together again at last!

Lia, my god — Lilith, I’ll never let you go again!

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
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