Princess. That's what you called me. No one has ever called me that before, and it makes me feel well cared for. One night, we talked on the computer until it was way past both of our bedtimes. I know this may sound strange, and I don't completely understand it myself, but I thought I felt something between us. And I swear I could feel your arms around me, could almost feel you touching me. Maybe I'm crazy. I wanted to ask you how you would make love to me, wanted so badly to know, but I kept silent. Maybe if I was lucky you would tell me. What would you say? Here's what I imagined...
Angie, my princess, if I could have you near me, I would start by finally kissing your lips and face. I would pull you closer to me, your breasts pressed into me, and I could smell your hair as you lay your head on my chest. You would tell me how long you've waited for this, and I would tell you how many times I've seen your face in my mind. I would touch your cheek as you look up at me, trusting me, feeling safe. As I smile down at you, you would shyly ask for me to take you to bed, which I gladly do, leading you upstairs. I would take you into the bedroom, watch you there in front of me. You would smile, waiting for me to go to you, and I would, pulling you in closer to me, leaning down, and feel my mouth on yours again. Your body would soften, giving in to me. Pushing your hair aside, I would kiss your neck, hearing you moan softly. I would touch your face again as you unbuttoned your dress, looking at me as it fell to your feet.
"Please touch me." you would say, and I would see the pleading surrender in your eyes.
And I would touch you, your body so soft and warm I couldn't say no. I would kiss your shoulder and collarbone while you ran your fingers through my hair, leaning into me. Your body would call out, pleading for more of my touch, which I would gladly give.
"I need you." I would hear you say.
I would pick you up and carry you to the bed. Laying you down, I would move my body on top of yours, kissing you again as you unbutton my shirt. Bare, our chests would press together, I would tell you how long I've wanted to feel your skin against mine. I move down as you finger the hair on the back of my neck, kissing your breasts, placing my mouth over your nipples, running my tongue over them as they become alert in my mouth. I would kiss the side of one as my hand cups the other. Moving my mouth down your tight, flat stomach, you wrap your legs around me. I go further, my mouth on your inner thigh, just above your knee. I continue my path, half kissing, half biting my way up your creamy thighs. You moan, telling me you need me inside you, a request I can't deny. My lips come back up to yours as I find your tongue, soft and sweet. With cautiously desperate hands you would unbuckle my belt and slide my pants off.
I roll onto my back, pulling you on top of me, I want to look at you as I make love to you. You straddle me, bracing your palms against my chest, my erection lightly against your entrance. You pause, looking at me, wanting to say something, but keeping silent save for your ragged breath. You're trembling, I steady you with my hands on your hips. Very slowly you start lowering yourself on me, gasping as the tip begins to stretch you. You stop, getting used to my size, as I sink further into you. I tell you to take it slowly, so fragile, not wanting to hurt you. And then I'm as deep inside you as I can be, filling you. I use my strong hands to help you move gently on my length as you throw your head back, moaning and calling out to me.