Perspiration on your skin like dewdrops in the early morning lends itself to my pleasure. In the still of the dawn, my hands slide along the curve of your hips and onto the softness of your belly. When I kiss your navel you moan under my lips. I savour each sweet tremour with my tongue and tease more from you still with each puff of my breath. I plant a tender row of kisses from your navel to the cleft of your breasts and trace circles around the soft peaks until they rise to meet my eager tongue. I greet them tenderly, flickering my desire all around them until they are tight damp knots from want of me. I feel your hands in my hair, your fingers pull me closer. I can't help but bow to your need. I feel it, too. Unlike I have felt it for any other.
I lie on top of you. So close that I feel your heart beating beneath mine. Your legs are high about my waist. I cradle your head in my hands, holding it like a precious treasure. I press my lips to your hair, inhaling your scent and then bring my face to rest against the sweet countenance that is yours. I tell you that I love you and revel in the feeling of your lithe arms encircling my neck. Your skin feels so soft that I can't help but caress you. I run one hand along the length of your arm until my fingers intertwine with yours. Your soft, small hand feels so delicate in mine. I raise it to my lips so that I might celebrate it there. One by one, I taste each pretty finger before I bless your palm and return it to my neck. You kiss my forehead.