Fireplace riding

Fireplace riding

Don't skip any details! Create a cozy atmosphere, highlight how in love the characters are, and, simultaneously, how filthy and intimate their lovemaking is. The plot: During a small vacation to Québec in cold rainy November, François, Connor, and Simon are saying at François' cottage in the forest. After a hearty dinner of poutine and wine (Connor only eats a tiny bit of poutine though, as they plan to have sex later on, he has already rinsed himself off in the shower right before dinner), François and Connor find themselves in the warm, candlelit kitchen. The rain falls heavily outside, muffling all sound. Connor, wearing only François' oversized flannel shirt and cozy wool socks, climbs onto François' lap on a large wooden chair. François kisses Connor's full lips, his neck, his collarbones, caressing his back and waist. Connor tugs his fingers through François' thick dark curls and tries to get impossibly close, like he wants to melt in. His sensitive naked skin gets reddish from grinding into François' clothed lap (François is wearing jeans), and Connor's short chubby cock is already fully hard and leaking pre-cum profusely, leaving damp spot on François' jeans. The air smells like Connor's arousal, the lingering smell of expensive wine, and the warm aroma of the fireplace. Simon snores on the couch near the fire. After a few minutes of intense kissing and grinding, Connor whines and begs François to take him, as he's close already, and he doesn't want to come without François inside. François groans quietly and grabs the lube from the kitchen table where they put it in advance, covering his long thick fingers with it. He gently lifts Connor's peachy ass from his lap for moment, just to open his jeans and get his hard dick free. He then enters Connor with his slick fingers, first one, gently testing the waters, but Connor whimpers impatiently and begs him to hurry up, so he adds the second finger soon, then the third. He tries to avoid prostate to not trigger Connor's orgasm before he's inside. Eventually he takes his fingers out and licks them clean, looking into Connor's eyes, the sound obscene in the quiet room. Connor's eyelashes flutter, he's all flushed from both arousal and embarrassment, even though he himself began it all tonight. He sinks onto François' cock, moaning when he's all the way down. He doesn't let himself adjust and begins riding François immediately, his hips moving in slow, deliberate circles as he searches for that perfect angle against his prostate. He finds it easily, with more than a year of experience of them doing it together, and shakes as if he's being electrocuted, each thrust making him clench and unclench around François' thick long dick. It only takes several minutes (with François he almost always comes embarrassingly quickly, which François seems to find very endearing, and Connor kinda hates, because he feels like an inexperienced teenager) for Connor to feel the impending orgasm. The pressure builds agonisingly, and when Connor's climax hits, his small cock jerks helplessly, releasing a hot stream of pee that soaks François' lap, the chair, and the floorboards - all the wine from earlier finding its way out unexpectedly, pushed by the pressure against his prostate located nearby. Connor's eyes widen in shock, François gasps as he feels hot liquid drench his opened jeans underneath Connor's butt. Embarrassment flushes Connor's cheeks, tears fill up his big beautiful blue eyes, he tries to stammer an apology as his throat barely moves, but François tightens his grip around Connor's ass, thrusting up and spilling his own release deep inside, murmuring in French how beautiful and good Connor is, letting go for him. The feeling of hot seed filling his insides triggers Connor's orgasm, and, as soon as his pee flood stops, his poor cock spurts a few thin translucent jets of release, not quite cum but rather squirt. The sight and feeling of it, the wetness, make him blush even more, he tries to look away, but François catches his chin and gently moves his face, making him keep eye contact as his seed pulses inside Connors' hole. He jokes huskily in French that his jeans are already completely damp anyway, so a few more jets won't change anything. Connor whimpers and mumbles that he swears he didn't do it on purpose, he was sure he was just about to have a normal orgasm before the pee and the squirt released. François kisses Connor's damp curls, whispering that this messy, unfiltered moment is the most intimate thing he's ever experienced, and chuckles lightly saying that from now on he'll call Connor his little fountain. The room around them smell even stronger than in the beginning, the aromas of cum, pee, and squirt mingling together. The wooden floor shines with a puddle of liquid Connor released. After a few more minutes of sitting there, their bodies grow cold, and François carefully lifts Connor up, slipping outside him. Connor whines at sudden emptiness and the cold wet feeling of the seed leaking from his hole onto François' jeans. François gets up from the chair and leads trembling Connor to the shower. They throw the flannel shirt, the jeans, and even Connor's wool socks into the washing machine, as everything is drenched. In the shower, François gently cleans Connor's most intimate places, kissing him under spray. Afterwards, he wraps Connor in a thick robe and tells him to sit by the fire with Simon while François cleans up. Connor tries to argue, but he feels very drowsy and exhausted, so he reluctantly agrees and wobbles to the couch to cuddle with Simon, watching the fire, hearing François him some French song in the background as he washes the floor and cleans the chair.