Listen as I sing in the shower, listen as water washes away traces of our desire. Inhale the fragrance of my bodywash as it snakes through the air, lingering like smoke in the atmosphere.
Meet me in the bedroom where I’m moisturizing my skin. Linger in the doorway, yes, that’s it, that’s it, drink me in. And when your eyes are filled to the brim, grab me by the panties and pull me closer, my back crashing into your chest, skin to skin.
“Let me help you with that,” you say, taking the lotion. “And this,” you kiss the back of my neck, fully exposed since my hair is up.
You run your hands over my shoulders, massaging the lotion in, then you place the bottle on the counter and in front of the mirror we stand, me and my manifestation.
I look at your reflection, you look at mine, then your lips are peppering kisses down my spine. My mind forgets what it needed to remember. History and future fade around us. There’s only you, the sensation of you on my body, your arousal pressed between us like flowers in a book.
“Enough of that,” you say, “there’s still work to be done.” You grab the lotion bottle and squirt more into your hand. Liberally, your hands move across the landscape of my body and I drift off again into the pleasure of your presence.
A firm hand on my lower back urges me to bend over, so I do, and the hand moves up the length of my back softly, then I feel your nails as the hand comes back down. I love the contradiction, the way you make me feel delicate and unbreakable at the same time.
You kneel behind me, kissing my butt cheeks, the back of my thighs, and the back of my knees, which makes my legs quake, so I grab the dresser for stability.
I’m tingling with anticipation when you turn me around, my mons inches from your face. You start kissing my abdomen gently, and my fingers find your hair.
A hand slips between my thighs, parting them to lift one leg and spread it to the side. The kisses start way up by the knee then your mouth moves further down the length of my thigh. You kiss and lick and suck and tease until I tremble. You’re so close to my pussy, but not directly touching it.
I drape my leg over your shoulder and it dangles down your back. By now I’m beyond ready to feel your tongue on my most sensitive spot. I keep expecting it and you keep delaying.
“Please, baby?” I beg, and you pause for a moment, looking up at me with a devilish smile.
We maintain eye contact as your index finger moves slowly from my belly button, down, down, dipping into my wetness. In and out, you go, smiling at me as you give me half of what I want. In and out, in and out, and soon the sound of my wetness joins us in the room.
I tilt my head back in pleasure and finally, finally I feel your tongue on my clit.
“Yes, yes, yesss,” I moan and pull your face closer.
I feel you blanket my clit with your mouth, writing words on me with your tongue. A few moans escape me and then I feel a breeze, I feel you blowing on my clit. It’s so sensitive that even the air you blow threatens my undoing.
You alternate between kissing, licking, sucking, and gently blowing on my clit, paired with the constant finger fucking.
“That’s it, that’s exactly what I like,” I say breathlessly. “Suck me and fuck me like my pussy is the elixir of life.”