It's been a long day as we both fall into our bed, the cold February wind pecking softly at the window. Earlier, hand in hand we walked silently through the neighborhood as a soft snow drifted down. It was so peaceful that our hearts and minds embraced the silence. These are the evenings that we cherish, so far from our house in L.A., but so close to the home that we learned to love in our youth.
There was no wind and her hand, as always, felt so warm in mine. Although we were silent, our bond strengthened through our touch. I stopped her beneath a streetlight and turned her toward me to look into her soul. I saw the spark of her life and leaned closer to kiss her softly above both eyes. We embraced and I knew that we had come together for a reason.
Under a warm comforter she stretches on her back as I snuggle closer, laying my leg across hers and my arm over her shoulder. Silently, our lips meet and no words can describe the meaning of our touch. We lay for a moment, now warming, but not needing or expecting at all. My hand begins to rub her shoulder and trace her beautiful collarbone, and then returns on a path that lets me graze her neck. She closes her eyes and leans her head back and I hear a soft sigh. Moving without purpose, my hand travels slowly down the swell of her breast until it crosses a sleeping nipple and slides down to the bottom. Yes, I'll admit that I love her breasts. And she knows that I love to hold them when we retire, without purpose, for security, I guess. My warm palm squeezes her so gently that it barely registers with her, but she knows that I'm there.
Then my hand moves slowly back up the slope, across her hardening nipple, then down the gentle incline until I once again feel the soft hardness of her collar. I can feel the faint beginning of goose bumps struggling to pull out of her skin, so I allow my hand to softly retrace its path across one of the breasts that I love. So many nights I've rubbed her like this as we've both fallen asleep and I am content to do so again, should we both drift off together. No pressure for me, no pressure for her. I love to caress her as we both relax.
But, tonight her breast awakens quickly, her nipple hard against my palm. When my mind begins to notice, I feel the first pleasurable tingle down below. She must feel it, too, as she turns her head toward me and I feel the softest little kiss on the very tip of my nose. She doesn't move further allowing herself to feel every pleasure in her body as her relaxation turns to yearning. To deeper breathing, I allow my hand to trace slowly down her stomach, past her belly ring and toward her right hip. When I want to arouse her, soft rubbing...just fingers, around the tip of her hipbone is as close to a guarantee as I've ever found. I've learned that the first switch is her breasts and once they've turned, the next stop is her hip...she is so familiar, yet each time I explore, I find a new button, or a new combination of tastes to bring her to ever higher levels.