The Fall To-Do List - An Erotic Story

Long-term friends turned sex buddies take to the mountains for an autumnal getaway. In this her-and-her casual sex story, Christina and Brittany are excited to tick some fall acivities off their literal to-do list. Think pumpkin pie and log cabin sex...

We had talked about this trip all summer, daydreamed about our all-American cliched fall to-do list; cabin in the woods, crackling fire, baking pie. So, as autumn was starting to set in, we finally created the time to go and tick some things off, just for a weekend.

I was excited! And I could tell that Brittany was too by the way she vivaciously bounced her head in rhythm to the songs blasting on the stereo. She looked pretty, sitting there in the driver’s seat of my old truck, and I still couldn’t believe that we were hooking up every other week.

Brittany had been into guys for all four years of our friendship, at least that’s what I thought until that rainy night in May when she was taking solace in my embrace, crying over her douchebag of a boyfriend and swearing she was done with men. I had tasted her salty tears as I cried with her, and in the heat of that moment, our lips had brushed and tangled in a warm, sloppy kiss. It was surprising and unexpected, yet we clung to each other. Fingers fondled without composure, clothes came off, the heat of juice glided against each other and in minutes, we were doing a different kind of crying as our bodies rocked together in orgasm. Since then, our regular catch-ups had become much more pleasurable… our friendship now elevated. And now, now I was taking her out to my cabin, tucked somewhere in the White mountains of New Hampshire. Funny how things turn out.

***

As we neared our destination, the mountains started to peep over the trees and when I drove up the leafy avenue, the awe on Brittany’s face as the rustic cabin came into view was everything!

She chuckled in excitement and hurriedly got out. I parked the truck and strolled after her, absorbing her “Oh-my god’s” “Christina, this place is beautiful,” and “wows!”

It was an old log cabin with a big porch, nestled on the base of the mountain, embraced by trees with leaves that were starting to turn golden and drift away in the breeze.

“It’s amazing!” she had said, completely emptied of euphoria.

“I’m glad you love it,” I replied. “Let me go grab our bags” And with that, I left her standing in the middle of the small living room, aligned with brown leather chairs, and a fireplace.

By the time I got back, Brittany had found the hot tub out back and was already undressing… dropping knitted layers to the ground in a pile. I watched as she slowly submerged herself in the warmth and wetness. She looked up at me, her eyes pulling me in as she sunk further into the water. I clumsily stripped without breaking my gaze from hers, my skin tingled by the chill in mountain air. We giggled as I slowly eased myself in right next to her, our bodies slipping together… our hands exploring below the bubbles.

***

We made our way back inside the cabin just as the sun began dipping behind the trees.

We had worked up an appetite, hungrier than when we first arrived. We walked into the kitchen in our fluffy cardigans over naked bodies, with our hairs wrapped in messy buns on the top of our heads. Brittany suggested we bake the pumpkin pie - one plan on our to-do list.

I had some flour somewhere in the cabinets so I pulled that out and set it on the counter for Brittany, the pumpkin we had chosen at a farmer’s market on our drive up. She rolled her sleeves and dug into the flour. Satisfied that she had all that she needed, I sneaked out of the kitchen to the living room to get started on the log fire. I'd always loved the crackling from the fireplace and knew Brittany would too. Anticipating this to be a romantic night, I lit a scented candle or two – cinnamon, of course.

Pleased with my little setup, I grabbed a bottle of red wine and walked back into the kitchen.

“What’s up?” she asked, carving out the insides of the pumpkin.

“You know how we talked about ticking off our stereotypical American fall to-do list?” I responded, and her eyes lit up with excitement.

She darted her head over her shoulders. “You got the candles?”

“Everything,” I said, and she chuckled excitedly.

“Even those extra squidgy marshmallows we were talking about.” I added, and we laughed knowingly.

I poured the red wine and we sipped as we cooked. When the pie was out of the oven, we grabbed the hot dish and moved to the living room. I set it on the coffee table, spoons in hand, and got down on the fur rug in front of the fireplace, burying my legs under the table. As Brittany lowered down onto the fur rug, my eyes caught the line of hair in between her thighs.

She caught me looking and made no efforts to save me from the torment.

Instead, she leaned back on her hands and parted her thighs wider apart.

“What are you doing?” I muttered lustfully, with my gaze devouring the shimmery shine reflecting against her curls.

She smirked, “What do you think?” she responded teasingly, obviously enjoying what she was doing to me.

Her open thighs were like a garden slung open, inviting me to the goodness that lay within. Her skin, supple and fresh, tugged at my desires.

Unable to endure another inch apart, I dropped the spoons and crawled on all fours towards her.

Brittany chuckled playfully.

I wrapped my arms around her thighs and pulled her downwards. I could smell her even before she reached my face. Impatiently, I pushed her cardigan up to her belly and slid my moist tongue in between her shaved lips. The gasp of her moaning filled my ears like the pleasant waves of the ocean.

I tightened my grip around her thighs and drew my tongue up her vulva.

I moaned into her, enjoying the way her juices flowed freely into my mouth. Her waist bounced on my face and I groaned passionately, not wanting that moment to end.

When I inched my face away from her mound, I brought my fingers to settle on her swollen clit. I stroked, and she cried pleasurably, begging me not to stop. Her left thigh was resting over my left shoulder as I watched the way my fingers sank into her soft, slippery hole.

The feeling of rubbing my fingers in her damp mound thrilled me so much that it caused my clitoris to throb with longing. I wanted her to touch me, to touch me there and quench the fire that burned between my thighs for her, the fire that ignited by having her in my face. So, I crawled out from under her and pulled her on top of me so that she had her legs straddled on either side of my face and hers lowering down into my mound.

My waist arched halfway to meet her. I could feel myself soaking wet and pulsating. I felt Brittany’s tongue the way you feel the tickle of a feather; soft yet intense enough to send shivers coursing through your veins. She swam her tongue in downward strokes until she was buried in between the swell of my butt, then she slid back up and went down again…

I was going to cum. I could feel my muscles tightening up and I perched onto her mound for dear life–lapping her juices like she was lapping mine.

“Christina, I’m gonna c-cu-um!”

She cried, and I felt her body tense against my face and her face suspended in the air, attentive to the orgasm that was about to explode through her. I pressed my tongue against the hood of her clit and slipped my thumb just at the base of her butt hole, and her body quaked violently.

Limp, she climbed down from my body and pulled me into her face, just like I had done to her. I was almost there; I knew I won’t last another minute before coming undone. The feelings of pleasure were so overwhelming that as Brittany pushed her fingers inside of me and stroked in upward strokes, my muscles tightened and I clenched her hair in a fist and rapidly rocked my waist, climaxing against her face!

***

Brittany crawled up and settled in my arms. Wrapped in one another, we remained on the fur rug by the fireplace, kissing tenderly, and enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.

It was just us with nature, secluded and serene with the soothing sounds of nature outside and the wood burning in red flames before us. Our lips lingered softly against each other, while our tongues continued to touch and stroke.

Brittany broke away to reach out for the pie that had been sitting there all along. She cut a slice and brought it to my face. I parted my lips, allowing her to feed me the sweet pastry. She joined in, taking a bite of the crust at the other end. We nibbled until it melted in our mouths and our lips welcomed each other again.

As we lay there kissing – long tender strokes against each other’s tongues, I wanted to have her again. It must have been telepathy because her fingers climbed up my belly, past my chest and settled on my right breast. She tweaked my nipple while her tongue continued to delicately twirl in my mouth.

Her fingerstips stroke the taut flesh of my nipple in different directions, groping the pound of flesh underneath just as she went. Heightened intensity of pleasure coursed through me and I wiggled my body, aching for her touch, but Brittany stayed on my breast and lips. She went nowhere near my pelvic bone, even though I could feel the wetness as my clit engorged, throbbing to be felt. The tease, the wait, and the pleasure of her tongue on mine and her fingers on my breast drove me crazy!

Not touching me down below made me want to be touched even more, and I moaned, “Please make love to me! Ple-a-ase baby.”

She groaned against my face and slipped her hands away from my breast and traveled down my chest. The distance between my chest and thighs seemed to go on forever as she trailed gently down, sending titillating sensations through my veins. I wanted to yank her fingers and thrust them into me, but I waited, swirling my waist edgily. Her lips stayed on mine while her fingers took their time, but finally, finally, I felt her touch slip into my damp-heat and we whimpered, just at the same time.

“You’re so wet,” she moaned against my mouth.

Our kisses intensified and I spread my legs as far apart as they could go. She broke from my lips to my erect nipple and my head dropped backward in complete surrender. While her fingers worked my clitoris, her lips nibbled on the swell of my breasts…

She knew just how to touch me, just where to feel and just the right amount of intensity to apply that would send me over the edge! And over the edge did I feel myself falling as her fingers continued to rub just the tip of my clitoris.

I nestled my fingers into her hair and continued to feel with my eyes shut… “Brittan-ny,” I whispered in between moans… “Oh Brittan-nn-y!”

I felt my muscles contract. Followed by a gush of pleasure shooting through me, too powerful to control. My toes curled into the fur rug, my nails gripped harder at her hair and I cried aloud as my entire body erupted violently.

My body jerked slowly as it relaxed, completely satisfied.

Brittany smacked her lips away from my breast and slid her fingers out of my mound. She brought it to my lips, and I licked them, one after the other, staring into her dark brown eyes.

Next up, a hike in the mountains…

___

THE END.

WRITTEN BY: KYLIE JOY TERUNDU + INSPIRED BY A COMMUNITY SUGGESTION.

Mimic oral sex during your solo sessions with a suction toy designed to pulsate air around your clitoris.