He's shared a fantasy with me.
Time is the key for me. I like forests, the mountains, the north woods - or wherever I don't have to watch the watch or tick off the minutes. The spot must be difficult to get to - where my lady and I are to be alone. Perhaps some hiking or rowing - to reach our "away" spot.
We have worked hard to get to this secluded area. But, finally we have arrived. We have spent the day with each other; working, cooking and playing - getting ready for the night. She is soft, tired, and ready to sit with me by a campfire, cuddle.
At the magical moment, when the sun is receding over the hill top ...we cuddle. Slowly the light leaves, and so slowly we begin to kiss. We are in a lovers' kiss till the sun is well down, the light has faded, and the stars have begun to show.
Her kisses become more urgent; then mine as well. My tongue reaches for her, and she responds. We ache for each other. Urgently, then emergently, we begin groping. Hands finding hidden places, tongues exploring unknown areas. Our faces flush, our bodies beg for each other.
She claws the shirt off my back. I tear her from her shirt and bra. We drag each others shorts to the ankles. Then comes the sweet, savoring kiss that puts us in total communion with each other; long and slow, knowing what is to come soon. Then we break - and I continue kissing her face, her cheek and her neck. I can feel her hand snaking down my chest, reaching for me. My kisses travel down her neck to her breasts, first one, then the other. Time on each one is measured by the erection of her nipples. I circle each bud with my tongue, making them even harder, then taking them one by one into my mouth and sucking on it while I lightly pinch its twin. Her sighs fill the campsite, with no one to hear, so she gets louder.
Her hand encircles me, and I am hard. She strokes me a couple times. But her pleasure is utmost in my mind and I sink out of reach and my kisses continue down her belly to her damp patch of hair. My tongue tickles both sides of her lips, skipping over her clit ... teasing, touching, avoiding the critical area - and finally diving deep into her rich wetness. I love her smell, like the warm wet saltiness of the sea after a storm. She parts for me, and I pay attention to her clit. It stands up. It is a beacon saying 'come here to me'. No words are used; nor are they needed. Our bodies speak for us.
Her sighs have become moans, and then, non-words. An imaginary language of passion that fills her world. Like a slowly growing volcano, I feel her begin her ascent. She moans out, she quivers; and finally, she bucks into her first big O of the evening. Her orgasm has split the warm night air - telling the whole world of her love and her lover. Her juices cover my face - warm, wet womanliness.
