Sitting across the room, looking at her . . . wondering if she can see my desire for her--my wanting to hold her, to touch her, to feel her, to taste her. I get up to go sit besides her. Taking my hand, touching her face, positioning it so that she can see clearly into my eyes.

"Do you know how much I love you?" I asked.

"Yes." She whispered.

"More then anything in the world." I said.

I feel her tremble, caressing her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin, sliding my hand around her neck pulling her close, so that her lips were slightly touching mine. I whispered, "I love you."

A single tear rolled down her cheek, our lips touch in passion. I can taste the saltiness of her tear. I close my eyes, giving in. The kiss is pulling away when I try to capture her tongue. Heat wells up inside of me. My want growing rapidly.

"Baby, please don't tease me," I growled. Opening my eyes, her mouth curling up at the ends looking like the innocent child she proclaims to be. Taking one hand, one finger, I gently slide it from the top of her forehead, over her nose, pausing at her lips. Her little tongue snaked out and, like a kitten, she tasted my finger. The roughness of her tongue reminded me of the feel of it flicking back and forth over my femininity. I shivered at the thought.

Taking my finger from her mouth, I continued the journey down her neck to the center of her chest. I paused only to remove all she had on, a white linen button up blouse that covered her. I wanted to see all of her. The chocolate hue of her skin glowed in the dim light. I wanted to touch all of her at the same time. I wanted it to last. I felt that if I rushed it, she would disappear. I had to hold on to her.

I brought my lips to her neck, inhaling her scent. I tasted the thin layer of sweat that had formed in anticipation of what was yet to come. Letting my tongue make little circles in the indentation of her throat, she gave in to me. Letting my tongue glide lower, I reached the center of her breast. My tongue lingered for a minute before pushing her back on the bed. I slowly moved to her puckered nipple. She grabbed my head to pull it close, but I forced her arms to her sides. I wanted her to let me control this ride. I am the driver, she the passenger.

Pulling the erect nipple in my mouth, I licked at it, the ball of my pierced tongue hit it. I could feel her moan and squirm. The low hum was turning me on so much. Then, I bit the nipple gently, hearing her gasp prodded me on further.

She was struggling to maintain control, clenched hands . . . fists balled up, her breath coming rapidly. Pushing her breast into my mouth, I tortured her poor nipple, sucking and licking. Then, I switched to the other, giving it the same lavish treatment as the first. She couldn't stand it any more. Pulling away from my hands, she grabbed my head and pulling me in.

Her moans became more and more excited. Using both hands, I smashed her breast together letting the nipples touch. I licked them both, pulling one into my mouth, then the other. Her moaning was driving me absolutely insane. Her force was outstanding. I knew I wouldn't be able to stop this roller coaster. It would only go higher and higher.

I couldn't control myself, her essence, her being, was like a trance over me. I knew for the rest of my life this woman would be mine, be first, and hold me like no other. I wanted to take it further. without startling the mode, I slide down and kissed her navel, outlining it, licking it, teasing the sides of her thighs. Watching her stomach tremble and shake, I could not resist but to go lower. All my energy, all my time was pent up, wanting to explode. I was in full gear, nothing could stop me but . . . I had to have her consent.

I closed my eyes and wished silently.

"Baby, please...please don't leave me like this," she pleaded.

A hush fell upon us. All I could hear was her breathing. I moved lower, silently thanking the gods.

I kissed the thighs in front of me, nipping and biting. I wanted her need to be extreme. I wanted her to almost force me to please her.

Teasing her was too intense, I positioned myself in the very front of her center, inhaling her musky scent. I could see the wetness peeking out. I closed my eyes and let my inner inhibitions go. Taking my tongue and licking the whole length of her, I could taste the bitter sweetness. I could feel her shivering and moaning, softly at first, then loudly. Her chest began to heave with excitement. She began to thrust her pelvis toward my mouth, grabbing my head and forcing my tongue inside of her. The wetness never stopped flowing and my mouth was drenched with her juices. I thought If I was to drown like this, I would want to relive this moment again and again. I wanted her to feel pleasure, the pain of pleasure. I zoomed in on her erect little clit. The little button was like a soldier standing at attention, saluting me. I let my tongue roll over it, feeling it, sucking it into my mouth with the eagerness of a newborn babe, reaching its' mama's nipple.

I could feel her shake and hear her moan. She grasped my hands as they held on to her legs. Her knuckles were losing all circulation. Her chest heaved up and down as I feasted on my meal. I could feel her thighs tremble next to my cheek. Only moments away . . . moments away .

"Please, baby, I can't control it . . ."

I flicked my tongue faster, going in circles, teasing her, caressing her . . . until she no longer could contain herself. Pulling my hair, pulling me in. I gasped for air. Wetness flooded my mouth. Sweet wetness.

I laid my head between her thighs, stroking her belly. I felt the pulse of her heart beating rapidly between her legs. I was exhausted. So was she, but the night was not over yet. As she relaxed, she reached and pulled me up to wrap her arms around me.

Before I got comfortable, I looked into her dark brown eyes and said with a smirk, "So . . . do you love me a whole lot or a whole little little?"

She smiled, rolled her eyes and said, "A whole lot lot and another lot."

Then, with a lingering kiss, we settle down for a night filled with surprises.


Copyright © 1997. Used by permission of author. All Rights Reserved.

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