Blue Light

We're sitting next to each other on the couch, watching as the television steals the conversation. I glance over at you as the translucent blue hue of the TV plays with the shadows on your face, throwing the light around to give you an almost incandescent glow. I follow the light around the curves of your body, almost silhouetted against the screen, tracing an image in my mind of what you'd look like in that light without the skirt and top on. You turn to seem me staring at the hem line of your skirt and I glance away, embarrassed, hoping that you can't see my face turning red in the darkness or the growing bulge in my jeans. Much to my horror, I notice your eyes dart downwards, towards the source of my chagrin, the ever-tightening stretch of fabric across the front of my jeans. Then, to my complete amazement, just at the height of my embarrassment, an impish grin sneaks across your face as you shift slightly, sliding the hem of your already enticingly short skirt up another few inches. In the same movement you place your hand comfortably on my thigh, excitingly close to the growing warmth between my legs.

Feeling brave, I slide my hand onto your thigh, gently massaging your leg with my fingers. Feeling even braver with every passing instant, I turn my body to meet yours, my hand slides around your waist and our lips meet in the middle. Your lips are wet and I can taste your lip gloss, cherry, on my tongue as our tongues massage each other in your mouth, in my mouth, in between our mouths. Your hand moves from my thigh to my belt buckle as one of my hands slides under your shirt, feeling your smooth abdomen, and the other slides under your firm rear, lifting the hem of your skirt above your cheek and then begins to slowly finger your thong.

You've undone my belt buckle by now, somehow, and have begun to unzip my fly. I'm so hard that as I feel your hand grope around my waist I'm almost afraid I'm going to come right there. You undo my pants as we continue to make out, and I help you out of your shirt, exposing your white bra and bare stomach to the blue light cast out from the TV. I stand, hurriedly stepping out of my jeans and pulling off my t-shirt, exposing my bare chest to the night air and the TV's half-light. I'm standing in my boxers, before you, as you're sitting on the couch, in your bra and that oh-so-short skirt. I lean in and kiss you, deeply, passionately, caressing your check with my palm, running my fingers through your chestnut hair, the pale, moonlit glow of the now-muted TV causing our shadows to merge and play, much like our bodies are merging and playing on your couch. I kiss your lips, a long, wet kiss, and then your cheek, a little peck, teasing you oh-so-much. Then I kiss your neck, licking it, knowing that it turns you on, and watching as you close your eyes, letting me take you someplace you've never been before, but have always wanted to visit. I kiss the tops of your breasts, while you help me take off your bra, exposing your perky nipples to the flickering blue light, and then to my lips and tongue, as I kiss them, take them into my mouth, tracing them with my tongue.

I kiss down further, tracing down your soft, smooth stomach with my lips, all the way down to the waist band of your skirt. I pull and you inch out of it, slowly, nervously, almost shaking with anticipation. You're wearing nothing but you're thong now, a cute little thing, whose colour I cannot discern in the eerie blue half-light. I kiss your waist, peeling the thong down further, past your mound, so soft and delicate in the dark. At long last, you're sitting before me, clothed in nothing but the ever-changing mix if blue light and shadows cast from the TV. Your legs are still pressed tight together, you are playing with my hair with one hand, and the other is at your mouth, your finger pressed nervously against your lips, your face distressed, nervous and excited at the same time. I stand, taking your hand in mine, and lean in close to your face. I kiss your soft, sweet lips, taking your other hand, dispelling your nervousness with my touch as my kisses relax you. I draw both your hands to my mouth, and kiss them, gazing into your eyes as I do. Even in the darkness I can see you blushing, but that you are also pleased. I smile, charming, as always, and slowly lower myself to my knees again, taking one of your hands and placing it on your thigh, so close to your already wet sex that I can smell it, taste it in the air. I kiss your thighs, slowly, easing you to spread them apart, allowing me access to what we both want. I take your hand, and guide it between your legs, encouraging you to touch yourself, to feel yourself. Your other hand continues to twirl my hair in your fingers, nervously, excitedly, as the hand between your legs finally becomes acquainted with your wet sex. You let out a small sigh as you slowly begin to rub yourself where it feels the best as I continue to watch, growing more and more aroused with every passing second.

Your legs continue to spread wider, your body relaxing more and more with every smooth, rhythmically stroke. I lean in and kiss the inside of your thighs, already damp with perspiration and something else, an exotic taste, and sweet, like the juices of a fruit. I lick further up your legs, closer and closer to where your hand has busily gone to work, so wet, so ready. At long last I am face to face with your sex, the pink folds of flesh spread wider by your loving hand, glistening wet in the blue glow of the TV. I kiss it, softly, gauging your reaction. A tiny moan escapes your lips, the hand caressing my scalp stops, and you lean back, closing your eyes, begging for more. I kiss your wet inner lips again, longer this time, harder, pressing my lips against the ones between your legs, and this time I add my tongue to the mix.

The result is pleasing to both of us.

You gasp, arching your back, the hand between your legs sliding harder against your own wet flesh. I kiss it again, with more tongue, tasting your wetness, licking the edges of your lips, probing your warm, moist inner depths with my tongue, causing you to writhe and squirm above me on the couch. The TV light catches you in almost a strobe pattern as you begin to arch your back, gyrating to the rhythm created by your fingers and my tongue, your eyes closed, your breath coming in panting gasps, beads of sweat dripping off of your body, and a delicious wetness dripping from between your legs, from my tongue, staining the couch. You begin to come, bucking your hips against my face, your fingers all the way inside you now, I kiss them, lick them, as I kiss and lick your dripping sex, your throbbing clit, harder and faster, until at last, you explode. You gasp out loud and I feel your body tense and shudder. Your hand goes limp between your legs, but I do not stop, I continue, my tongue flicking in and out of your wetness, tasting you, pleasuring the warm, wet flesh. You come again, stronger this time, your whole body quivering, as you gasp for breath. I finally stop, the licking becoming less intense, finally dying down to a single, soft kiss, on your soaking wet outer lips, just like it began. I stand and lean towards you, drawing my face up close to yours. Your breath is still coming in ragged gasps; your body is still reeling from the explosions of pleasure that rocked you like waves upon the beach.

I smile and kiss your, tenderly, at first, then with growing passion. Our parted lips mesh and our tongues dance. You taste yourself on my tongue, and you feel me, my body pressed up against yours, growing ever harder. Your hand slides down below my waist line, to the bulge continuing to grow in my boxers. I slide a hand down your stomach, cupping your mound, sliding a finger inside of you as you do. Your head tilts back and your eyes close in ecstasy as I massage your wet clit. Your hand has found me and begins to slide up and down my hard shaft. I gasp in pleasure. You smile at your newfound talent, and we turn, so that I'm sitting on the couch and you're leaning over me. My hand leaves the warmth between your legs, but you gently push me back as I lean forward to continue pleasuring you.

You take one of your fingers and place it in your mouth, sucking on it. Then you withdraw your finger and insert it into the wet slit between your legs, sliding it up and down, eye level with where I sit on the couch. You continue to please yourself as you slowly move down to your knees on the floor in front of me, your eyes on my long, hard shaft. I gasp in amazement as you kiss it, then swallow it whole, withdraw it and softly blow on it. The sensation is indescribable. You lick me up and down, all the while fingering yourself in the artificial glow of the TV. Your mouth takes me whole, your wet lips caressing my manhood, your tongue working wonders on me. The pleasure builds and builds until I can no longer hold it in, and gasp and a moan; I release it, into your mouth.

You swallow most of it, some of it spilling out of your mouth, dribbling down your breasts. You stand, my cum still running down your breasts, your hand still slowly, rhythmically massaging that wonderful wet place between your legs. You sit next to me on the couch, curled up, our naked bodies pressed against each other. I lick my cum off of your breasts, and we kiss, and I taste myself in your mouth, just as you must have tasted your own juice in mine. Our hands and mouths and tongues continue to explore each other's glistening bodies for hours, discovering pleasure such as we have never known, before, at long last, you fall asleep with your head on my shoulder, your arms wrapped around me and mine around you, in the ever-flickering blue moon-lit glow of the TV…