I could feel how ready she was. Body squared toward mine, face up, eyes steady on mine, jaw slack. It made things lower down my body heat and clinch. I felt my hands move to her waist, it felt like slipping my hands into a favorite pair of gloves. I forced myself to draw a long inhale as I smiled down into her sparkling blue eyes, and contemplated the smallness of her ribs (God it felt so good just to have my hands there) then the distance from where my hands were to her breasts. She smiled back and curved into me. Fuuuuuccck, fighting not to slide my hands up to her breasts. I moved one hand up, touched the side of her face brushed her hair back, slid my fingers down onto her neck and drew her the short distance into me so that our lips touched.

Both of us reaching out with our whole body, wanting, buzzing… translating every urge, every hope, every emotion coursing through our bodies into the press of those lips… every dark desire in the sweep of those tongues. Revealing ourselves, tasting each other, beginning the dance of moving in and out of one another… discovering who we are together and melting into it.

She was pliable… soft and wet. She was hungry… greedy and grasping. I might have never stopped riding this wave of to and fro. My hands grasped tighter, I heard my own whimper as I pushed further into her and the world faded to black. A shiver went down her body and she jerked hard in my arms. Our mouths parted, we stared into one another’s glassy eyes, and I knew what decision we’d have to make before I see her again.