As awareness began to drift over her, after the most peaceful night of sleep she'd had in months, she remembered the man beside her. She thought of this intimate stranger who had simply held her the night before. She had never met him before that night, but they knew each other on the deepest level--having spent months and months messaging online.
He loved her so fiercely that it could bring her to tears. She had always believed in that type of love. She knew it had to exist... because she knew her heart had that profound capacity to love. But life had not been kind to her, and she had started to believe that she was the only one with a heart so loving.
So when he loved her--loved her like he couldn't breathe without her--loved her in awe and with gratitude, she felt feelings so powerfully that it almost hurt. Sometimes she'd try to brush the thought aside, still skeptical after a cruel life, that something so beautiful could exist for her. Other times, tears would stream down her face, unable to contain her emotion. Yet other times, she would tell him, confidently, to say, yet again, how much he loved her.
Entirely cliche, and yet oh so real as she woke into her present reality, she thought of how their souls were connected--how they knew each other--and loved each other--to levels that couldn't be explained. She shifted, ever so softly in the bed, and as she stilled, she felt him start to shift the same, and she knew he too was waking.
Though they had just met, she turned to him, as if she'd woken up with him thousands of times over. There was a comfort, an ease--something so natural and right about being close to him in their sleepy state. Before true thoughts could enter her head, she reached out with her delicate small hand and felt for his penis. She didn't know why she wanted to--she had no intention of turning things sexual. She just wanted to feel him--to somehow feel physically the feelings that were churning so strongly between them.
She knew he wouldn't be hard--he was barely awake--and things had been so appropriately non-sexual--despite the powerful love that they shared. But there was a little part of her that knew that the love he felt for her wouldn't let him stay soft, sleeping beside her all night. She just wanted to feel--physically feel--curious what the emotion created.
As expected, he was neither hard, nor soft. There was energy in him, she could tell, when she put her hand on him--but there was also that comfort--the fact that what was between them was so much more than pure sex--and so he was able to be vulnerable enough to be somewhat soft in her hand. She knew he was able to give all of himself to her, and so she felt happy with the feel of him in her hand.
She knew there was no obligation in touching him, so she rolled over, still sleepy and not ready to start the day. As she nestled into her spooning position with him, she became aware of the fact that her ass was in his crotch, resting right against where her hand had felt. She liked being close to him--liked feeling him--so she wiggled ever so slightly, but also ever so purposely--rubbing against his shaft.
He responded to her potential invitation, reaching for her tit. But she didn't want it--not because she didn't love him--and not because she wasn't attracted to him--but because online he had taught her that it was okay to wait until she no longer could stand the waiting. He liked it, even--having her be in control. So she mumbled 'No. Sleepy.' knowing that a simple mutter of syllables was enough to retract his hand. As he did, though, she thought to herself, 'he can play with just my nipples.' And as if he had read her mind, he asked 'Nipples?' And so she whispered 'Yes, barely--gently.'
Her nipples were full, untouched from the night of sleep. She loved them like this, so big, so ready. He reached around her, still spooning her, and he gently brushed over the nipple. He knew that it was best to stick to just the tip, being careful not to get the whole thing so tight that sensation was hard to feel. 'Just stimulate the nipple,' he said in his head, remembering what she had told him in their messaging. And very carefully, he did just that.