Silent Night

It’s busy. The cold envelopes the crowd, and as such we are all dressed for the occasion. Scarves, hats, gloves, and coats which give us the glorious warmth to juxtapose the stinging cold on our cheeks. In reality there not much to see at the moment, save the tops of other people’s heads. Our other senses are spoilt however- sounds of the brass band, smells of food being cooked from the nearby market stalls and the sensation of his hands around my waist. My hands are warmed further my the tiny mug of mulled wine, which is lighting a small fire in my throat with every sip.

‘I hoped it would be so busy’ he turns and half whispers into my ear.

This seemed odd. Usually we are the first to complain about busy shops, trains, not being able to get a seat in our favourite pub.

‘I’m sorry….what? How much of this wine have you had?’

He giggles, places the hand on the small of my back and pulls me in closer. This ignites the warmth further, as I feel his breath on my cheeks and neck. He places the tiniest kiss on my cheek and continues to smile.

‘I meant that I’m glad it’s so busy’, he continues to whisper. ‘It will make it much less obvious when you come.’

I pause for a second, relish in the twisted feeling settling in my stomach and try to appear nonchalant as I gaze around. He is right. There are people everywhere, all wrapped up in their own business. We are close to the people infront- in fact every side is surrounded by layers, coats, cuddling couples, and we are all distracted by the music and waiting for the lights to be switched on.

He is still at my ear, and he knows my legs are almost shaking. His hand is reaching, and grazing up the inside of my legs.

‘You’ll still have to keep lovely and quiet for me, and I brought something to make it easier’

He starts to place pressure between my legs, and I start to try and contain my moans. I wonder what he has, that I could use to help keep quiet amongst the crowd, as he puts something in my coat pocket. I run my hands over the mystery item, and instantly recognise the feel of crumpled satin. I half pull it free from my coat, trying not to distract attention and in my hand are the pants I wore earlier, whist he fucked me. They aren’t clean, far from it.

For a second, his hand moves away, much to my silent protests made by my eyes. He laughs, and takes his warm scarf from around his neck and puts it around my neck.

‘Put them in your mouth’. And I do, of course I do. I lean in to him, scrunch them tight and is amazed as he then wraps the scarf in a loop around my neck. The wool settles over my mouth, and he clears my nose (‘just making sure you can breathe’, he says with a smile!)

He kisses me cheek again, and I’m amazed but thoroughly not surprised that he has just framed gagging me with my dirty underwear as a romantic gesture to try and keep me warm.

The pressure starts again. I huddle into the scarf, and into him, to make it look like I’m suffering from the cold. I’m feeling something, quite the opposite of cold, and it’s definitely not suffering.

The music slows to a halt, but the silence is (thankfully) quickly filled with announcements made over the PA system. I have no idea what they were saying, I could just feel myself getting closer. He knew too, as my eyes were widening, and my grip on his free hand was tightening.

I heard them counting. It started at 10. He had timed this perfectly.


I could taste both of our mess from the fuck earlier, from when he had me bent over the bed, my dress pulled over my waist and my tights by my knees.


I remembered his hands, pulling my underwear to one side, as the other spanked my ass and grabbed it. He liked to…


spread me as he fucked me. Almost inspect me. Finger my ass, or if he…


wanted to take me rough, he would hold his thumb inside me as he held me in place.

4… Perhaps 3, 2…

he pulled out at the last moment, and I felt it land over my ass and trickle into my cunt. Not coming in, but on. I’m a surface to him…


Then he pulled the pants back to their original position, and spanked me, before his hand reached around and rubbed between my legs. He was covering them in his c…. No, I’m going to come. I’m going to come in this crowd. I forgot where I was for a second, until they started applauding and he pulled me in close.

Again masking holding me close and (more importantly) upright as my legs shook and my orgasm took hold, as a romantic gesture. Which it was, in a sense.

‘Good girl’ he whispered, ‘you kept silent for me, and you didn’t even spill your wine.’ And before I knew it, he took my mug and downed the last quarter. I think he deserved it.

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