“Are you sure you want to do this?”
I nod. Saying the word “yes” seems impossible at this moment. Not because I don’t want to; I do want to. But because I am in danger of losing control of even the most basic functions, like forming words. I add a tiny smile to my nod and look into your eyes.
“Then let me hear you say it.” You use that tone of voice that you know gets my attention. “I need to hear you say so,” you tell me.
“You know how much I want to.” I pick up your hand and hold it between mine. When I look down at our hands pressing together my wedding band glimmers. I wonder whether I should take it off.
“But nothing. We’re doing this.” I make sure you hear the resolve in my voice. I’ve waited too long for this—my whole life, maybe—to let this opportunity go by.
You smile. A warm, radiant smile that seems to heat the room on this blustery November day. I’m aware of everything now: the laugh lines around your mouth, the barely visible wisps of gray hair springing from your temples, the wheezing noise the small heater makes, the faded bedspread, the bland hotel artwork.
“Then stand up.”
I do what you tell me to. I think you know that I will. Deep inside, I know that I would do anything you demanded of me. I want to tell you this but I’m not sure how. I’m hoping that you’ll just know.
I feel your eyes on me as you look at me. Your stare is frank, and, I think, approving.
“I have something for you.” You motion with your eyes to the floor near the armchair I vacated. I can see the handles of a small shopping bag tied with ribbon. A girly laugh bubbles up from somewhere inside. A combination of nerves and delight.
“Go on,” you smile. I slip a hand inside the bag and feel a soft, filmy material. I pull out a white satin camisole. The bodice is sheer and embroidered with lace and has delicate silk covered buttons.
I hold it up to the light. The fabric is translucent and appears to glow.
“I’ll go try it on,” I say. Before I take even one step to the bathroom, you stop me. “In front of me, please.” The way your eyes smolder tells me how much you want to see this.
I square my shoulders to you. You cross your legs and look at me expectantly. I begin by pulling off my sweatshirt. Your eyes are kind as you look at me. My heart pounds inside my chest. I can feel my nipples harden and wonder if you can see them press against the fabric of my bra. I dare not remove illegal bahis my eyes from yours.
I unbutton my jeans and then unzip them. I wriggle them over my hips and push them down. I try as gracefully as I can to step out of them. I’m aware that my socks are on and feel silly. When I’ve kicked off my jeans and pulled off my socks I stand in front of you with my hands on my hips. This is more of me than you’ve ever seen.
I slip the straps of my bra off of my shoulders and then reach behind to unclasp it. Without a word I let it fall to the floor. My arousal is now apparent to you. I hook my thumbs under the waistband of my panties and tug them down. I hold eye contact as I bend down to slip them off. I consider how I had agonized over which pair I would wear for you. But now I drop them to the floor along with the rest of my discarded clothes.
I stand before you naked and unashamed.
“God, you’re beautiful,” you tell me, and I almost melt. I want now to go to you, sit in your lap, and feel my lips upon yours for the first time.
“Thank you,” I breathe. I pick up the camisole and slip it over my head. It is short and only partially covers my thighs. I can feel the satin whisper against the curve where my ass meets my legs. I button it and let you appraise me in the outfit you chose for me.
Your smile turns into something else as you look at me. Not lust, not sadness, but some kind of emotion in between. I know what it is because I feel it, too. I’m nearly overwhelmed that we’re about to make love. You hold out your hand and I take it as you rise to meet me.
“Just look at you,” you say. “Here.” You guide me to the mirror so I can see myself.
The satin hugs my curves. My nipples are clearly visible through the sheer bodice. I lean back into you as we look at our reflections. Your arms circle me from behind and pull me into you. Again, I am aware of every sensation: the warmth burning between my thighs; the soft swell of your breasts against my back; the tickle of your breath on my neck.
I twist in your arms so I can face you. We hold each other, forehead to forehead, our hands gripping each other’s forearms. I want to squeeze you so tightly. The tips of our noses touch. Then our lips brush. We open our mouths and kiss. How long I have waited to do this! The feeling is everything I expected and nothing I expected. You are impossibly soft. There is no stubble to scratch me, just your delicate skin. You cup my face in your illegal bahis siteleri hands as you kiss me. I circle your waist with my arms.
There is nothing the least bit unnatural about kissing you. I allow your tongue to enter my mouth and find mine. I suck on your lips. I don’t know how long this goes on before you take one of my hands in yours and lead me to the bed.
I slide back and rest against the pillows piled at the head. You are pulling at your clothing even as you crawl towards me. I help you remove your blouse and bra, reveling in the sensation of your skin.
“I want you,” I murmur to you repeatedly as we undress you.
“You’ll have me, baby,” you reply, and I fall even further into this passion I’m feeling.
Soon, you’re naked. I reach out and for the first time feel another woman’s breasts in a sexual way. Yours are full and heavy and I cup them with my hands. I lower my mouth to a nipple and suck on it. You moan softly. I can do this for hours, I think, as I kiss and suckle your breasts. While I do this for you, you stroke my hair and talk to me.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” you say. My only answer is to squeeze your breast as I suck on its protruding nipple.
At some point your hands guide my head away from you and you press me gently back onto the bed. I open my legs so you can kneel between them. You lay on top of me now, your naked body covering me. We kiss and you play with a strap on the camisole you chose for me. You cup my breasts through the film and run the flat of your hand across my tummy. This gives me chills I can feel all the way up my spine. I also feel it between my legs. I’m aware that I’m quite wet there.
Your hand moves lower, to my thighs, and then you lift up the hem of the camisole. You slide down so you have your head between my legs. I am open and exposed for you. I know what you want and I want so badly to give it to you…or for you to take it. I pull the bottom of the camisole above my hips.
When you put your mouth on me I gasp. And then groan. I twist the bedspread in my hands as you use your tongue on me. I call out your name. You are too busy with your mouth to answer. Your tongue, gentle but insistent, slips inside my folds. I arch my back to meet your mouth and squeal as you lick me.
Soon you find my clit. I explode with the increased sensation. I don’t care who hears me. I scream for you. Jesus, how you’re making me feel. You are using your mouth to set canlı bahis siteleri my pussy on fire. I want so badly to erupt into orgasm. “Please,” I start saying.
When you don’t answer, I repeat myself. “Please.” My voice is shaking.
Briefly, you stop. You look up at me from between my legs. I can see your lips and cheeks are shiny from my wetness. Your eyes give me the assent I was seeking. When you once again touch your mouth to my pussy I let myself ride with the sensation until it peaks. My cries grow louder and louder.
And then, blissfully, I come. I have to push you away from me because I am too sensitive to touch. When you try to continue licking me I start to giggle.
“That…felt…so…good,” I say. I’m panting like I’ve just finished a run.
Before I can say anything else you have brought yourself even with me. I look into your eyes. I want to tell you that I love you. I don’t want to ruin this by frightening you. Instead I kiss you. I can taste myself on your lips and tongue. I love it. I feel the intensity as you kiss me back and I want you more than I ever have.
“Let me please you,” I say between kisses. “I want to do that for you.”
You kiss me after I say this, the most tender kiss yet. Now you help me remove the camisole. It had been pushed up to my midsection and bunched beneath my breasts. You climb on top of me and straddle my stomach. I can feel the wetness of your pussy on my skin. Slowly you move forward until you are kneeling astride my face. You lift my head and place a pillow under it and move my bangs off of my forehead.
Now I tilt my face to you and press my lips between your thighs. I do not hesitate at all. I open my mouth and lick your slit from the bottom to the top. You steady yourself by placing the palms of your hands against the wall.
We stay like this for many minutes. I lick your pussy, tasting you, probing you with my tongue. I can feel you gently rocking back and forth on top of me. I pull you into my face by grabbing your ass. I squeeze your ass and knead its softness with your hands as my tongue does its work.
You frighten me when you drop a hand to my head and grab my hair, but this turns me on. I suck on your clit and you tighten your grip. I love the sounds you make, especially when you use my name, and even more when you use coarse language to tell me what to do.
“That’s it!” you moan. “Fuck me! Fuck me!”
And, with my lips and tongue, that’s exactly what I do. I steadily lick you until I feel your thighs tense against my face. With a final, “Yessss!” you buck against my mouth and then I know you have climaxed. You’re holding me now. I feel safe and loved. I feel warm and cared for. I feel alive.