The candles guttered low, their wax pooling like liquid gold on the dock boards. Sarah's back still pressed into the damp blanket, her thighs trembling from the aftershocks. Alex's weight rested lightly on her, his cock softening inside her but still thick enough to keep her stretched, a slow pulse of warmth where they joined. Lake water lapped inches from their feet, carrying away the faint scent of her release in lazy ripples.
Neither spoke. The storm had retreated to a distant growl, leaving only the hush of wind in the pines and the wet sound of their breathing. Sarah's fingers traced the sweat-slick line of his spine, counting vertebrae like rosary beads. *This is real,* she thought. *My son's cum is inside me, and I'm not sorry.*
Alex lifted his head. Candlelight painted gold across his cheekbones, and his eyes—God, those eyes—were soft with something deeper than lust. "You okay?" he whispered.
She answered by tightening around him, a deliberate clench that drew a low groan from his chest. "More than okay."
He eased out slowly, and she felt the slick glide of him, the sudden emptiness that made her whimper. A ribbon of their mingled fluids followed, dripping off the edge of the dock to vanish into the dark water. The sight sent a fresh throb through her clit.
Alex rolled to his side, propping himself on an elbow. The blanket had bunched beneath them; he tugged it free and draped it over her shoulders like a cape. "You're shivering."
"Adrenaline," she said, but she let him pull her against his chest. His heartbeat thudded steady under her ear, and the heat of him chased the chill from her skin. She could feel his cock, half-hard again, resting heavy against her thigh. *Eighteen,* she marveled. *He'll be ready again in minutes.*
Minutes she suddenly wanted to savor.
Sarah pushed up on one elbow, mirroring his pose. The dock creaked beneath them, a gentle sway that rocked them like a cradle. "We should go inside," she said, but her tone lacked conviction.
Alex's gaze drifted to the cabin—its single lit window glowing amber through the trees—then back to her. "Or we could stay here a little longer." His thumb brushed her lower lip. "The candles won't last forever."
She caught his wrist, guided his hand lower. Between her legs, she was swollen, slick, aching. "Then let's not waste the light."
His breath hitched when she wrapped his fingers around the mess he'd left inside her. He explored gently—two fingers sliding through her folds, circling her clit until her hips jerked. "Mom…" The word came out reverent, almost broken.
"Sarah," she corrected softly. "Out here, I'm just Sarah."
He kissed her then—slow, filthy, tasting himself on her tongue. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with renewed hunger. "Sarah," he repeated, testing it. "Turn over."
She obeyed, rolling onto her stomach. The blanket was rough against her nipples, but the cool wood beneath soothed the burn between her thighs. Alex moved behind her, knees bracketing her hips. Candlelight flickered over the curve of her ass, the dimples at the base of her spine.
He didn't enter her yet. Instead, he spread her open with both hands, thumbs tracing where she was still fluttering from her last orgasm. A low sound escaped him—appreciation, maybe awe. Then his mouth was on her, tongue lapping the combined taste of them from her pussy to her perineum, gentle and thorough. Sarah buried her face in her folded arms, muffling a cry as he sucked her clit into his mouth.
When he finally rose, his cock was fully hard again—ten inches of rigid heat nudging her entrance. He didn't thrust. He *waited*, letting her push back onto him inch by inch, controlling the pace. Sarah's breath fogged the blanket. She took him to the hilt, then stilled, savoring the stretch.
"Like that?" he asked, voice rough.
"God, yes." She rocked forward, then back, setting a languid rhythm. The dock swayed with them, water sloshing softly beneath. Each time she sank down, her clit grazed the blanket's texture, sparks shooting up her spine.
Alex's hands settled on her hips, guiding but not forcing. "Look at me," he said.
She twisted to glance over her shoulder. His face was flushed, lips parted, eyes locked on where they joined. Candlelight caught the sheen of sweat on his abs, the flex of muscle as he met her backward glide. The sight undid her—she came suddenly, a sharp clench that milked him, her release spilling hot down her thighs.
He groaned, hips stuttering, but held back. "Not yet."
Sarah laughed breathlessly. "Greedy."
"Want to watch you again." He pulled out, flipped her onto her back with surprising gentleness. The blanket had slipped; he tucked it beneath her shoulders like a pillow. Then he hooked her knees over his elbows, spreading her wide.
The new angle let him sink deeper. Sarah's head fell back, throat exposed to the night air. He started slow—long, deliberate strokes that dragged over every sensitive spot inside her. The dock's edge pressed into her calves, but she barely noticed. All she felt was him: the thick slide of his cock, the wet sounds of her pussy welcoming him, the cool kiss of lake mist on her overheated skin.
"Touch yourself," he said.
She obeyed, fingers circling her clit in tight, frantic motions. The dual sensation—his thrusts, her own touch—pushed her toward another peak. "Alex—*Sarah*—I'm—"
"Come for me," he urged, voice breaking. "Let me feel it."
She shattered. This orgasm was deeper, a rolling wave that started in her core and radiated outward. Her pussy clamped down, gushing around him in rhythmic pulses. Alex's rhythm faltered; he buried himself to the root and stilled, letting her ride it out.
When the tremors faded, he lowered her legs but stayed inside her, leaning down to kiss her forehead, her nose, her lips. "Still with me?"
"Barely," she panted, but her smile was radiant.
The last candle sputtered, throwing wild shadows. Alex eased out, and they both watched his cum trickle from her swollen folds—thick, pearly strands that caught the dying light before dripping into the lake. The water accepted their secret without judgment.
Sarah sat up, legs dangling over the edge. The lake was mirror-calm now, reflecting the first hint of moon. Alex settled beside her, shoulder to shoulder. For a long moment, they simply breathed.
"We'll need to talk," she said eventually. "About what this means. Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," he agreed. His pinky hooked hers—a childish gesture that felt profoundly adult. "But tonight…"
"Tonight," she finished, leaning her head on his shoulder, "we're just two people who found warmth in a storm."
Behind them, the cabin waited—its single bed, its dying fire. Ahead, the lake stretched endless and forgiving. Sarah closed her eyes, listening to the soft splash where their mingled release met the water, and felt, for the first time in years, utterly unalone.
The cabin door creaked shut behind them, sealing out the lake's hush. Inside, the fire had dwindled to a nest of glowing coals, painting the room in deep amber. The air smelled of pine smoke and sex—musky, unmistakable. Sarah's bare feet padded across the cool floorboards; Alex followed, the blanket draped loose around his hips, his cock half-hard and glistening.
They paused at the threshold of the bedroom. The bed looked enormous now—sheets twisted from their earlier restlessness, pillows askew. Sarah's pulse fluttered. *One bed. One night left before the storm breaks.* She felt the weight of it like a hand on her throat.
Alex stepped closer, the blanket slipping to the floor. Candlelight from the dock still flickered in her mind, but here the shadows were softer, more intimate. He cupped her face, thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. "We don't have to rush," he said, echoing her earlier plea.
"I know." She leaned into his palm. "But I want to remember every second."
He kissed her then—slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing the shape of her lips. Sarah's hands slid up his chest, nails grazing the faint red lines she'd left on his back. When they broke apart, she took his hand and led him to the bed.
They didn't speak as they climbed in. The mattress dipped under their combined weight, springs groaning softly. Sarah lay on her side, facing him; Alex mirrored her, their knees brushing. The fire's glow seeped through the open door, gilding the slope of his shoulder, the hollow of her throat.
She reached between them, fingers wrapping around his cock. He was heavy in her hand, velvet over steel, a bead of pre-cum already pearling at the tip. Sarah stroked once, twice, slow and reverent. Alex's breath hitched; his hand found her breast, thumb circling her nipple until it tightened into a hard peak.
"Tell me what you want," he murmured.
"You," she said simply. "Inside me. Slow. Like we have all the time in the world."
He rolled her onto her back, settling between her thighs. The sheets were cool against her overheated skin. Alex braced himself on his elbows, framing her face. His cock nudged her entrance—slick from earlier, still swollen and ready. He didn't push in. He waited, letting the anticipation coil tight.
Sarah lifted her hips, guiding him. The head breached her, stretching her open with exquisite patience. She exhaled shakily as he sank deeper—one inch, two—until he was seated fully, her walls fluttering around his length. They stayed like that, joined, breathing in tandem.
"God, you feel…" He couldn't finish. Instead, he started to move—long, unhurried strokes that dragged over every sensitive ridge inside her. The bed creaked in rhythm, a soft counterpoint to the crackle of dying embers.
Sarah's legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. Each thrust nudged her clit, building a slow, steady burn. She cupped his face, pulling him down for a kiss that tasted of lake water and smoke. Their tongues tangled lazily, mirroring the glide of his hips.
Minutes stretched. The fire popped, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney. Sarah felt the first tremor of orgasm stirring low in her belly—not the sharp, explosive kind from the dock, but a deep, rolling wave. She clenched around him deliberately, and Alex groaned into her mouth.
"Close?" he asked, voice rough.
"Mm-hmm." She slid a hand between them, fingers finding her clit. The added pressure sent her spiraling. Her pussy pulsed, milking him in rhythmic waves; a soft gush of wetness coated his shaft, trickling down to the sheets. Alex's rhythm faltered, but he held still, letting her ride it out.
When the aftershocks faded, he pulled out slowly, cock slick and shining. Sarah whimpered at the loss, but he was already shifting—lying on his back, pulling her atop him. "Your turn," he said, guiding her hips.
She straddled him, knees sinking into the mattress. His cock stood proud, flushed dark with need. Sarah braced her hands on his chest, lowering herself inch by inch. The angle was deeper this way; she felt him nudge her cervix, a sweet ache that made her gasp. She started to rock—slow circles at first, then longer glides that took him to the hilt.
Alex's hands roamed—cupping her breasts, tracing the curve of her waist, settling on her ass to guide her rhythm. The firelight danced across their joined bodies, highlighting the flex of her thighs, the sheen of sweat on his abs. Sarah leaned forward, hair curtaining their faces, and kissed him again.
"Touch me," she whispered against his lips.
His thumb found her clit, circling in time with her movements. The dual sensation—his cock filling her, his finger on her swollen nub—pushed her toward another peak. She rode him harder, chasing it, her breaths coming in soft pants.
"Come with me," she said.
Alex's hips snapped up to meet her, once, twice. His thumb pressed harder, and Sarah shattered—her pussy clamping down, a fresh rush of wetness flooding between them. Alex followed with a guttural groan, thrusting deep as he spilled inside her, pulse after pulse of heat.
They collapsed together, Sarah draped over his chest, his cock still twitching inside her. The fire had burned low, casting long shadows across the walls. Outside, the wind had died completely; the lake lay silent.
Sarah traced idle patterns on his skin, feeling his heartbeat slow. "Tomorrow," she said softly, "the power might come back. Roads will clear."
Alex's arms tightened around her. "Then we'll have one more night."
She smiled against his collarbone. "One more night," she agreed.
The embers glowed, patient and warm, as they drifted toward sleep—bodies entwined, the scent of sex and pine smoke wrapping around them like a promise.