After Bathing

My lover is over 1200 miles away but I visit with him in my dreams.

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I lead you to the bedroom. Your interest still has not flagged. We get you comfortable on the bed, and I put on the music, pour the wine, adjust lights and find my tools. A little massage oil and we're ready. I have your back to me, arms out of the way and hands tucked under the pillow supporting your head. I want you to relax, drift and enjoy the sensations that will over take your consciousness. As in the shower, I begin tending your beautiful back. Straddling one of your legs, I'm no longer using just my hands, but reach to the length of my arms, dragging my body over the slickness of yours.

You can feel my wetness against your thigh as my hips press my sex against your leg. My excitement is now obvious to you. I slide lower and insert myself between your legs. My attention turns to each individual muscle and its attachment in your thighs and buttocks. The hands as implements of massage are joined by my mouth and tongue. I explore each inch, trailing my tongue to the crease between thigh and buttock. I push pillows under your hips to increase your exposure to me, caressing your cock with my hands as I situate you. I am rewarded with an intake of air and a soft moan. Back to the delights I have put upon my plate. I begin trailing fingers up the inside of one thigh and my tongue up the inside of the other. Both join at the floor of your pelvis. Both hands open your cleft to me and my tongue continues its journey upward to find your rosebud. Gentle attentions and touches. Tongue is supplanted with a finger which alternately massages and tickles, probing occasionally, testing the opening for tension.

I continue my mouth's exploration of your delights. Down the middle toward your balls in their fleshy sac, my tongue encounters only smoothness. A particularly new sensation. The skin though corruscated lacks the distractions of its coat, instead each wrinkle can be followed without distraction. Tongue tasting done, I use a gentle suction to pull each testicle into my mouth and explore it independently with my tongue in that warm housing. My fingers still tease your rosebud and the band of flesh between it and the object of my attentions. As I play, your hips make small thrusting motions, as if to enter the pillows supporting your hips.

As a distraction, I sit up and offer you a sip of wine. I take a mouthful of the cold liquid, but do not swallow. I return to my most recent target and invite your balls to enter this cool pool in my mouth. I slide my hands between your legs and grasp your cock, beginning a firm slow stroking. Your hips lift to provide access and thrust seeking relief.

But my love, you have two wonderful sides with which to play! As if on one of my vaunted spits, I turn you over, maintaining the pillow pile beneath your center. Your head propped for good vision and easy access. From between your legs, I slide my oily front over you as I reach for your mouth with mine. Some leisurely kissing, which seems to grow in passion, is first on the menu. Now I want to sample your arms. Poking insistently in my middle, you titillate by your very being. Your hardness enchants me, and makes my breath shorten and my cunny tingle with wanting. I kiss and taste you from elbow to armpit, then find that tender spot at the edge of your chest. Across that wonderful expanse. The scent of you in my nose, on my hands, and the taste of you in my mouth. I drag my tongue and mouth down the center of you, sliding off my prize which appears between my breasts, then is available to my mouth. My hand again moves to your inner thigh, seeking the treasures near there. I pull your legs up and over my back, splaying the knees. Now you are open to me.

As you watch, I slide my tongue from your balls to the tip of your shaft, and encircle you with my free hand, stroking gently, then a bit harder. I begin to send you into the depths of my mouth, our eyes meet. Mouth and hand work in concert. Your passions rise, your thighs tremble at my shoulders, your voice drives me. Cupping your balls, I squeeze as I feel them pull upward, and as your breath stops and your stomach convulses to propel your semen into my mouth, I slide one finger past your rosebud's entrance and slide my fingertip back and forth across the nugget there. Your voice changes in intensity and you shoot your cum into my throat.

I slow my efforts and drag you back to the now. But unlike the ephemera of your lonely aquatic pursuits, when you return and your eyes open, I am still there, loving you.