I donβt know how I came to be here, but I don't care. All I know is that he is spooned around me, his fingers traveling daintily across my shoulders, down my arms, his lips gently at the nape of my neck. I smile as I feel his breath, so uniquely him, so incredibly sensual.
I love this feeling, cradled in his arms, so safe, so protected. Do I dare say I feel loved? Its presence is unmistakable at moments like these, but its presence is not constant, living in different worlds as we do. How did we come together?
The question is driven from my mind as a sharp spike makes me realize where his fingers are now. The answer doesn't matter. All that does is these feelings he's bringing out in me. I feel one arm wrapped around my front, gently teasing a nipple to greater hardness. I feel his other arm draped across my hip, his fingers softly asking my lips to give him access. He gently parts them, gently slips his fingers down, coating them with the moisture weeping from my core, gently pulls it back up to slicken my clit.
Gently.
Gently.
Oh so gently.
I shudder feeling every inch of his skin against mine. I struggle to open my eyes. "Shhhh," he croons in my ear. "Stay in shadow," he whispers.
Dreamily, I obey, languishing in the heightened sensation sleep can bring. Somewhere I know the tingle should be concentrated between my legs, but I feel it run along the curve where my legs reach my ass. I feel it in the small of my back tickled by the hair on his belly. I feel it in the tips of my nipple even though he now caresses the curve underneath my breast. I feel I should pull all the sensations together, refocus them so I can reach my peak faster so he too can have release. "Relax. Enjoy," he commands, reading my mind. "It will come soon enough. Just feel me."
Eyes closed, deprived of vision, I do as he says. I reach my free hand up, to run my fingers through his hair. I feel the wisps of his facial hair as he nibbles my ear. I run the pad of my foot, down his calf, entwine my feet in his. I push my hips back against him, driving his hardness into my divide. He weeps too, his moisture lubricating us. He pulses against me. I glide slowly, minutely, up then down. Outer sex, I've heard it called.
The tingle races across my skin, never staying in one place. I extend my neck, hoping he notices that I want him to kiss me there, pushing my breasts out with nipples that so painfully need to be touched. I hitch my outer leg slightly over his to give him greater access. With my inner hand, I part my lips, so my clit can't hide like it so often does.