We sit together, quietly talking. We have been this way for a time. The talk begins to wind down and we become more self-conscious. The talk has been pleasant and covered many things, however we both feel a little awkward at this juncture. Though this has been building for some time, the first encounter is always a bit uncomfortable. We must decide to continue or to depart, gong along as we have been, flirting, and dancing around the issue. Occasionally stealing the passionately restrained kiss and hug. We both feel the urge to go further, but both are afraid to do so, hindered by our own fears. My own, that you will find me lacking. Yours? I haven't a clue.
I move, finally. I turn toward you and lightly kiss your cheek. You turn your face to me and return the kiss. It draws on, becoming passionate and urgent. Your hands behind my head hold me in place, controlling the pace of the kiss. I run my hands over your arms, shoulders, working up toward your face. I gently caress your cheeks as I kiss you, You lean back, drawing us down to lie together on the bed, holding each other.
You're beautiful, I tell you.
My right hand begins to trace its way along your left side, working from your shoulder to your knee, which is as far as I can reach. I resume kissing you, while my hand works its way up and down your side. You respond with a similar motion, your left hand tracing between my shoulder and hip. I caress your cheek as I kiss you, slowing breaking from your wondrous lips to gently kiss your neck, working down the side of your throat. Your response to this is to gently turn my face up, meeting my eyes. Such beautiful eyes you have, the soft lighting of the room sparkling in them.
Lie still, you say, gently pushing me on to my back. You begin kissing me as your fingers deftly unfasten my shirt buttons. Your fingers trace circles upon my chest, gently tugging the hairs they encounter. This causes me to squirm slightly, but you continue your caressing exploration of my chest. Your kisses work down one side of my throat and up the other and I feel twinges of desire is certain areas of my anatomy. You quietly reposition so that your legs are outside mine, laying full length upon me, snuggling close.
We remain thus for a time, my member becoming painfully cramped, a hard lump you can feel on your stomach. I gently stroke your back through the material of your dress, wondering if you will allow me to remove it. Our kisses continue and I feel your nipples poking my chest, increasing my desire. I slowly start to slide one of the straps of your dress down your arm, stopping at your elbow and running my fingertips across your smooth skin. You respond by tightening your embrace and kissing me more passionately. I slowly repeat the process on the other arm, savoring the feel of your soft skin, the way your breasts mush against my chest, anticipating their look and feel.
A soft sigh of pleased contentment escapes you, one which I echo. You push up slowly, rising to your knees. The pressure of your pelvis upon me is delightfully pleasant. Once you have reached a comfortable position, you slowly withdraw your arms from the straps of your dress. A playful smile graces your lovely mouth as you hold it in position, building the anticipation I feel. I squeeze my lower muscles, sends a pulse through my erection, a pulse that causes your smile to broaden a bit.
I lift my hands to your dress, just under your arms preparing to lower it. You allow this, and trap my hands in place for a moment. You retain them in this position and lean forward, gracing my lips with a tender kiss before returning to your kneeling pose. I work a hand loose, running it down the front of you, gently caressing your breast.
Would you lift up for a second? I really need to reposition a certain something.
A gentle smile answers me, but you raise your pelvis a couple of inches allowing me to slip a hand in and do what I must. I am massively tempted to rub you, but I pass, preferring to wait.
Thank you. That's much better, I say as you settle back down. The bulge of my erection is obvious as it continues to seek release from my trousers. The feel of my straining penis causes you to wiggle your hips, teasing me. I groan in pleasurable frustration, anxious to have you lift your arms so I may remove the wrapping. The playful smile still graces your lips as you lift your arms. I slowly lower the top of your dress, exposing your strapless bra and lovely skin a little at a time. I carefully gather the material of your dress around your hips and gaze upon you. Oh my, I breathe. You are so beautiful. The sight of your breasts, albeit within the confines of a lacy bra causes my penis to twitch. I slowly run my hands up along your flanks, reaching up to your shoulders, then down along as much of your back as I can reach. I retrace this lovely path, finally resting my hands upon the back of your hips. I sit up to hold you, the feel of your bra an exciting trail across my chest.
Oh, that feels so much better, I murmur. I begin kissing your neck, working my way to a cheek, then your delicious mouth. Your tongue is hot against my own, the dance frantic. I feel your hips moving in unconscious rhythm, back, forth, up, down. I encourage this by shifting my own hips up and down, wanting to be in you, but willing to wait. As our kiss breaks, I sigh in contended bliss. My hands, which have been in constant motion over your back and arms, find your pert breasts, softly caressing them through the material of your bra.
Hmmm, you murmur. Are you sure you can't find the catch?
I had done so, as soon as I had lowered your dress. My hands gently move into a position to unbuckle the catch, pausing to allow you one more chance to change your mind. Not that I would be pleased, mind you; just something I feel I must do. You hold me lightly, allowing me a little space o glance down, if necessary. I don't need to look, the fastener releases on the first attempt and I remove the contraption that has obscured your marvelous flesh. The sight of your lovely breasts causes me to sigh, and the feel of them in my hands has been worth waiting for. After caressing them lightly, feeling your nipples rise against my palms, I lean down to kiss them lightly. This elicits another pleasurable sigh from you.
I lean back, drawing you down atop me again. Our tongues have resumed their mad dance, and my excitement is almost unbearable. I break our kiss, holding you tightly to me, marveling in the feel of your tits against my chest. You snuggle into a more comfortable position as I relax my hold running my hands over your exposed back as we lie together, quietly enjoying the candlelight and the moment.
We continue to enjoy the pause for awhile, caressing each other. After a time, you begin to lightly kiss my chest, working your way down. When you reach my pants, you unbuckle my belt and unbutton my pants. When you are finished, you return to the position from which you started.
Oh, I groan. Did you have to stop? I wonder.
You respond to this with a kiss. I stroke your back, and your fine hair as your hands work further down. You grasp the top of my pants and give a slight tug, encouraging me to lift up. I do so, and you work my trousers off, leaving my underwear on. The tip of my erection is visible over the waistband. You lightly run you hand along the length of my covered member, avoiding the exposed tip. I groan as you move you hand back to my stomach, repositioning your crotch over me.
As you settle yourself comfortably, we continue our tongue dance. I stroke your hair, your back, wanting to roll over and remove the rest of your clothing. I shift my weight, trying to roll over atop you, which you resist, instead you shift to one side, placing both of your legs over one of mine, and you work my underwear down, exposing my erection. You gently stroke me, arousing me with direct physical contact. It is nearly too much for me.
Stop, I breathe. You're going to make me climax, I warn you.
You respond by squeezing me, causing me to groan. I place a hand upon your chest, softly stroking your nipples, caressing your stomach, my hand wandering lower. I stop at the bunched material of your dress and gather a bit, trying to push down.
