Erotic Fiction: Midnight Fireworks

Like our erotica? Check out our shop for more in-depth, steamier stories.

The soft clink of glass against glass and the hum of conversation filled the air around me as the New Year’s Eve party buzzed with excitement. People laughed and mingled, their faces glowing under the soft flicker of candlelight and the twinkling holiday lights strung up around the room. Despite the festive atmosphere, my attention kept drifting back to him—Rob.

We had been friends for a long time, but tonight, something felt different. Something had shifted between us, a quiet undercurrent of tension that neither of us had acknowledged, but we both knew was there. Every time our eyes met across the room, my heart fluttered just a little bit faster, and every seemingly accidental brush of his hand against mine sent an electric shock through my veins.

I had tried to ignore it, to focus on the music, the conversation, the champagne, but it was impossible. My thoughts kept returning to him—the way his smile made me feel like I was the only person in the room, the way his gaze seemed to reach straight through me. There was something in the way he moved, something magnetic that drew me in.

As the night wore on, the tension between us seemed to grow, palpable and undeniable. I could feel the heat of his presence even from across the room. He was closer now, standing just behind me as I laughed with a group of friends. I didn’t need to turn around to know he was there. I could feel him, his energy like a soft hum against my skin.

And then, finally, his hand brushed against my shoulder as he leaned in, his breath warm against my ear.

“Let’s get some fresh air,” he whispered, his voice low, sending a thrill straight to my core.

I didn’t hesitate. Without a word, I followed him outside into the cool, crisp night. The sound of fireworks echoed in the distance, signalling the nearing end of the year, but it was the sound of my heart pounding in my chest that drowned out everything else.

We walked in silence, the snow crunching beneath our feet, until we reached a quiet corner of the garden, away from the party. The view of the city below us was breathtaking—lights sparkling in the distance, the night sky stretching endlessly above. It wasn’t the view that had my attention, though; naturally, it was him. Standing there, just a few feet away, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch.

“I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he said, his voice soft but steady, the raw honesty in his words sending a rush of heat through me.

I couldn’t speak. My mouth was dry, my body suddenly electric with the weight of his words. I didn’t know what to say, so instead, I stepped closer to him, closing the space between us until I could feel the heat of his body against mine.

“I’ve been thinking about you, too,” I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper, as I reached up to touch his face.

His hands moved immediately, cupping my face gently, as if he were afraid I might disappear if he held on too tightly. It wasn’t fear in his touch; it was reverence. He kissed me then, and the world seemed to tilt. His lips were soft, yet firm, coaxing mine open as his hands slid around my waist, pulling me even closer. I melted into him, my body responding without hesitation.

His kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, like he was savouring the taste of me, learning every curve of my mouth. As his lips moved against mine, his hands began to roam, slipping under my coat to caress the bare skin of my back. The simple touch made my entire body shiver, the heat between us intensifying with every passing second.

I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck as he trailed kisses down my jaw, his hands roaming lower, teasing the curve of my waist and then slipping even further. I felt a soft moan escape from my lips as his fingers brushed against the small of my back, his touch sending electric jolts through my body. Every nerve in me was awake, alive, humming with the sensation of him.

“I want you,” he murmured against my ear, his voice thick with desire. The words sent a rush of heat flooding through me, my pulse quickening as the last shreds of restraint slipped away.

Before I could respond, his lips were on mine again, more urgent this time, his tongue slipping past my lips as his hands moved with increasing boldness. I could feel the hard length of him pressed against me, the unmistakable evidence of his desire.

“I want you, too,” I breathed against his lips, the words barely leaving my mouth before his hands slid under my dress, pushing it up, exposing my skin to the cool night air. His touch was fire, his fingers tracing the curve of my thigh, moving higher, teasing, making me ache for more.

He paused for a moment, his eyes searching mine for permission, for some sign that this was what I wanted. I didn’t need to say anything; my body had already answered, pressing closer, my hands tugging at the collar of his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin.

His lips were on my neck now, kissing and biting gently, sending waves of pleasure through me, making me shudder beneath his touch. Without another word, his fingers found their way to the edge of my lace underwear, slipping inside, and I gasped at the sudden contact.

Everything about him felt perfect. His touch was confident, sure, as he moved with a precision that had my body singing with desire. I could feel myself getting wetter, the need inside me growing with every stroke of his fingers, every press of his body against mine.

“Rob…” I whispered, the sound of his name a plea, a command, an invitation. My hands were frantic now, unbuttoning his pants and pushing down the zipper, desperate to feel his skin against mine.

He didn’t hesitate. He pulled back slightly, just long enough to slide out his cock from his underwear, his eyes dark with desire. I could see the want in him, reflected in the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, in the way his hands moved over my body like he couldn’t get enough of me.

And then, with one fluid motion, he lifted me into his arms, carrying me to the nearby bench. My heart raced, my body alive with the anticipation of what was to come.

He kissed me deeply as he lowered me onto the bench, his hands working with a sense of urgency, shedding his pants, leaving only the heat of his skin and the growing pressure between us. The thrill of potentially being caught washed over me briefly, but was just as quickly gone when the fireworks began to go off above us.

“I need you,” he said again, his voice rough, a promise in his words.

In one smooth motion, he entered me. The sensation was overwhelming—intense, hot, and filled with a passion that seemed to consume me entirely. I gasped as he filled me, my body arching beneath him, my hands gripping his shoulders as he moved inside me. Every thrust, every stroke, brought us both closer to the edge, the tension building with every passing second.

His name spilled from my lips in a breathless cry as he pushed me higher and higher, until finally, the world shattered around me. My body exploded with pleasure, waves of ecstasy crashing over me as I clung to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.

He followed soon after, his own release pulling him deep into the moment with me, his body tensing as he found his own pleasure.

We collapsed together against the bench's backrest, wrapped in each other’s arms, the sound of fireworks the only reminder that the world outside was still turning. But in that moment, nothing else mattered. Only the warmth of his body, the softness of his touch, and the undeniable connection we had shared.

Previous
Previous

5 of the Best Pregnancy Sex Positions for Comfort and Pleasure

Next
Next

Fetish Friday: Acrotomophilia