by Maggie Shurtleff
(11/15/06)

You tell me you won't be long on this walk-run. You say, it's okay baby, then kiss me full on mouth. I can't help but follow you in my mind, watching the gentle bounce of you with every stride. You are so focused on your task, ensuring your feet stay sure-footed along the cracks and seams of the sidewalks. You'll be home soon, so I make ready for your return. I light the candles, the incense. Set the lights dim, place your favorite flowers, and have music playing the room like a lover's kiss along an anxious spine. I feel the room -- it's not too hot, not too cool, even though I enjoy your nipples hard. I know you are more comfortable in warm, and I make it so.

You arrive at the back door, slip off your sneakers, hang your jacket on the hook, breathe in and out fully. Your body is still reeling from the adrenalin, shaking a bit. You drink water -- letting it spill out the sides of your mouth, down your chin and neck, wetting your shirt, soaking your flesh, cooling you. I wait for you in the bathroom, a lost scene from a romance novel. The scene omitted because it was too risqué. The shower turned on, soft steam rising, candles lit, smooth aroma lofting about, gentle music, and me in the shower, waiting for you. Water streams over my curves, rivering down my breasts -- waterfalling off my erect nipples. My black hair blacker now, long over my shoulders, down my back, flirting with that point where ass meets spine.

My outline is blurred a bit, so you slide the see-through curtain to the side and see me clearly, smiling, eyes wanting you. You step back and take off your clothes. One piece at a time, slowly revealing your satin shine. I sigh upon seeing your breasts, and sigh louder upon watching you slide tiny panties off your hips, down your legs, leaving them on the floor, puddled. I swear I already came just watching you -- but you know I will again.

You step into the shower -- the water just as you like, but you ignore its comfort, wanting to know my lips upon yours. We lean into one another, teasing our lips and tongues until they know enough to dance by themselves, lavishly mating. My hands instinctively find their way onto your breasts then around your waist, pulling you into me closely, closer than a hug -- almost a puzzle fitting right into place, snug and secure.

Your arms upon my shoulders curve as your hands embrace my head from behind, as if to say I will take you, all of you, and their gentle strength pulls my face into yours, flesh upon flesh, rubbing as animals do upon their greeting, noses sliding up one another over mouths. Eyes into eyes seeking want and receiving assurance that we are love. The warm water slides along your back. You feel it and sigh as your breasts on my breast tingle and ache, needing to be mouthed. I, knowing this, sink lower to kiss them. Each one cupped in my hand as I run my wet lips over their curves and brush back and forth over your nipples. Your breathing hastens upon each pass until I take a nipple deep into my mouth, sucking its brown-pink greedily but softly. Your moans tell me, this is right.

Your hands woven in my hair -- the contrast of black layered over your pale skin entrances you, and you move your fingers about -- lifting and drifting them in and out through the woods as you see it; shadows and light. My mouth transferring from one nipple to the next until I feel your body relaxed into the sway of passion, then I know you are ready for me to kiss more of you. And I do.

My hands slipping themselves over your hips onto the curve of your backside, over its slightness and onto ridge meeting leg. My fingers spread like a fan flutters through the air, but instead the motion is felt on flesh...down the outside of your thighs, around the front to its inner seams. There's no need for you to open your legs. I know the way as only a lover does.

My fingers find your clitoral shaft welcoming me back; my hand turns upward sliding over your hood, sending shivers through your body. I stand, letting my palm rest on your mons pubis as my caring hand points down. Each finger finding its want; my thumb circling your clit. Index and ring fingers gently coaxing your labia to full bloom while my middle finger finds its way into your wet heat. Your pussy knows this and pulls me in.

I tease a bit, rubbing about, until your hips flex into my fingers, causing them to delve deeper into their play. Your heavy breath on my neck pleading with me. I do not let you yearn too long. My mouth hungry, needing your sex, drives down the center of you, licking the path between neck and clit.

As my lips find your clitoral hood, they suck it in and out of my mouth as my fingers reach past your labia into your vagina. You gasp and sigh, and this is my cue to ravage your sex. And I do.

Each lick and suck is hardening your clit more. Each plunge and withdraw of my fingers into your pussy swells your red walls around my fingers; every nerve surfacing to get its share of delight. Until your hips want more, and they rock into my face harder and faster. I breathe when your hips back off. When they return their push -- my tongue long and pointed -- straights its way into your waiting pussy.

Upon its dip into you, your raspy moans quicken, barely audible words tell me so much, and I am pleased. In turn, I hasten my fingers onto your g-spot as the flat of my tongue bathes your clit in licks and flicks, causing your thrusts to be urgent as this adoration of your sex sends your body messages that the edge is near and it prepares. The buckling of your knees, the tightening of your stomach, the tingling of your nipples, the lustfulness of your own mouth and tongue licking the air, simulating your own need to feed upon me.

Your clit engorged, rising higher and higher, as I do not fade my efforts. I speed up the flutters upon your clit and can feel the bulge of it as your pussy tightens. Squeezing my fingers. But the want to bring you over the edge keeps them moving, quick-stroke, pressing into your g-spot as it lifts itself closer to the wall so it is so near I can feel every swirl of my fingerprints loving it.

Knowing you are just there at the very top, I suck in your fat clit. Pull it into the heat of my mouth, tongue swirling about it, as the suction of my lips pulls and pushes the meat of it, cradling your clit in the valley of my tongue. Each taste bud soaking up every morsel of its sweetness. With that you fall off edge -- feeling the lift of heated wind raise and settle you into my mouth and fingers as every bit of you swells and rivers out. Your clit sensitive -- released from my mouth, letting it quiver and pulse naked. My mouth knowing your come, wants it, needs it, kisses your labia minora, whispering to my fingers to withdraw, wet they slide out easily...

...and my mouth covers your pussy. My tongue thrusting into your heat, and with that your juices flow and flow and flow as my mouth like a cave captures it all. The liquid swirling as it twirls onto my tongue, swimming in its thick lightness. All my senses are very much drowned in you. By now my own pussy is dripping with excitement, orgasmic release; knowing you are content and throbbing.

Still I seduce your sex -- my mouth lips and your pussy mouth are so joined there is no telling which is which and the redness of their artful meld is more than a painting but a reality of this passionate affair.

Your body bent over mine; limp and sweating from your climb and fall. I smile and kiss the sweat, oh the beautiful sweat, shimmer of beads on your flesh; bulged fat until they must drop in rivers -- joining the showered streams of warm water -- which I had not noticed until now. We are silent, like shore lands, resisting nothing.

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