Encounters With Meg Fifth

It is a few days after Valentine's Day, and we have been waiting to get together. Holidays are busy times, making it harder to get away from families, but somehow we have managed to find an evening we can spend together. I am waiting at the hotel where we sometimes meet. I have everything arranged, and I am passing the time until you arrive. As usual you are late, but I am unconcerned. I have a glass of wine while I wait. Soothing music plays in the background. Several candles on the dresser provide the only light.

I rise to open the door in response to your knock. As I open it, you glance behind me and see the candles. You start to speak, but I raise a finger to my lips indicating that you shold not. Without saying a word, you step into the room. I step behind you to remove your coat and hang it in the closet.

You look around the room, but there is little to see except the usual furnishing plus the candles and wine. You turn to face me, and I reach out, taking both of your hands in mine. Our eyes meet, and I see in yours a look of uncertainty. I see that you are about to ask a question, and again I motion for you not to speak. You have a puzzled look on your face as I pull you toward me. Our bodies meet and I feel your warmth pressed against my body.

At first, we simply hug, enjoying the closeness, the warmth, the comfortable feeling of being wrapped in one another's arms. You kiss along my cheek, searching for my mouth. Our lips meet and press together in a greeting that serves in the place of our unspoken words. Our kiss progresses from tentative greeting to a luscious, passionate kiss of the sort that makes one's toes curl and one's sexual organs tingle. Our tonges meet, twist and tangle together as we renew our shared passion. Our infrequent meetings are not sufficient to fulfill our need to be together, and the assorted forms of e-contact only enhance, rather than diminish, our desires.

I inhale the smells that belong only to you--your hair, your neck, your skin, your breath. They are the essence of you. They are what I try so desperately to recall when we are apart. Now you are here with me and I fill my brain with details of your essence in the hope that it will store the information away for later use. Likewise, my hands roam over your body, refamiliarizing themselves with your form, stroking every curve and crevice, reloading my memory banks for those times when we are apart. I feel the swell of your full breasts pressed against my chest, your pelvis pressed firm against mine. We fit well together.

Without breaking our kiss, we slowly waltz around the room. We move as one as we slowly sweep from one end of our space to the other. Your eyes are closed and your body is relaxed in my arms. Your head rests comfortably against my shoulder. You follow my lead and I sense that you have surrendered yourself to your desires, that your needs are as great as mine, that your passion will match, or even surpass, mine as we move through the evening.

I waltz you toward the bathroom, stopping before the door. When I stop, you open your eyes. You note the lighted candles surrounding the filled tub with a twinkle in your eye. You again look at me with questioning eyes, but I do not speak. Instead I begin unbuttoning your blouse, allowing my fingers to slowly slide across your voluptuous breasts as I do so. I remove your blouse, tossing it on a chair. I spin you around so your back is toward me. I kiss your neck, your shoulder blades, your spine. I unfasten your bra and toss it aside, freeing your lovely breasts. I notice you are watching yourself in the mirror as I undress you. I kneel behind you and unzip your skirt, tugging it down over your hips until it puddles on the floor.

You have lifted your hands to your breasts and you are massaging them as your eyes follow your actions in the mirror. I watch for a moment as you squeeze them together, manipulating your nipples between your fingertips. I move around in front of you and kneel before you so I will not block your mirror view. I move my hands up between your thighs, stroking the silken skin there, nuzzling my fingers against your panty-covered pussy. I feel the warmth emanating from within as I rub along your damp panties with the sides of my fingers. I turn back to the task at hand, slowly sliding off your thigh high stockings, allowing my fingers to gently caress your legs from top to bottom as I do so.

When I look back up, I see that one of your hands is between your legs, stroking your pussy through your panties. Your other hand caresses your breasts as your eyes remain fixed on your reflection in the mirror. I grasp your panties and slowly slide them down your legs. Your fingers seek out your now exposed pussy, stroking along its length, smearing your juices on the flaring lips and up onto your clit.

As I kneel before you, my eyes are only inches from your gorgeous cunt. I can feel the warmth of you on my lips, and my nostrils are filled with the scent of your mounting passion. I watch your fingers stroke up and down, searching out sensitive points, gliding across sensitive skin, caressing every crevice. Teasingly you spread your engorged lips giving me a quick glance of the crimson bliss hidden within, and then you move on, turning your attention to your clit. You stroke it gently along the sides, causing its tip to first peek and then hide within its hood. You begin to move your hips, pressing your lower body against your fingertips. Your eyes observe your mirrored reactions.

Your fingertips slide down between your cunt lips that are now swollen with need. You stroke along the lips gently, and your hips thrust forward in an invitation to explore your inner recesses. Your fingers accept the invitation as they begin searching for the hidden crimson passage that awiats them. You are wetter now, your juices seeping from within, coating your upper thighs with a fine, glistening sheen.

The hand that has been at your breasts moves down to begin stroking your swollen clit. One of your fingers dips inside your pussy, rotating around its interior, caressing every surface. A quiver shakes your body as your probing becomes more animated. Soon two fingers are buried inside you to the knuckles as the fingers of your other hand swirl your clit in a mounting maelstrom of sensations. Your hips thrust forward more rapidly as you move toward climax. The aroma of your aroused pussy assaults my nostrils and diffuses throughout the room, filling it with your scent.

My eyes are focused on your pussy as your climax jolts through your body like an electrical charge. Your hips quiver with release as your fingers continue their probing. You moan loudly, making it clear that you are cumming, cumming hard, with both of us watching your every tremor. I become aware of the squishy sounds produced by your finger fucking as your juices flow from you, squeezed out as your pussy convulses around your fingers. I rise, wrapping my arms around you to keep your weakened knees from tumbling you to the floor. You wrap your arms around me, clinging tightly to me, as the final tremors of your orgasm sweep through your body.

We remain that way for several minutes, locked in each other's arms, unwilling to move and end the moment. Eventually, I step back and look at you. Your skin is suffused with blood coloring it a deep pink. Your breasts are red from the sometimes too vigorous manipulations of your hands. The lips of your pussy are slightly flared and a trickle of juices seeps from your crimson recesses and flows onto your thighs as I watch. I take your hand and lead you toward the tub.

The water I drew earlier is still warm, but I add hot water as you slide down until your body is stretched full length in the enveloping warmth. Your full breasts float at the surface, and the dark ringlets of your hair dip into the warm pool. The flickering light from the candles plays across your face revealing the satisfied smile and twinkling of your eyes. I leave you to soak, as I return to the room. Your eyes question my departure, but still you do not speak.

I return with a pile of papers, photocopies of poems I have selected just for this occasion. I sit, leaning against the wall at the foot of the tub, as I sort through the stack. Finding the proper piece, I begin to read. I read poems by Frost and Shapespeare, Sandburg and Dickinson, Marlowe and Lawrence. Their words echo eerily from the tiled walls, illuminated by the subdued light of the flickering candles. The words surround us, wrap their sounds around us like tentacles, draw us in like fish caught in a net. We are pulled together, enveloped by the words, their meaning, and the images they inspire. Our world, for the moment, is this small room filled with the words of others, shared by us in a moment of intimacy that will forever inhabit our memories.

When I have read all the poems, I set the papers aside. I hear your breathing, irregular and rapid, and I know that the poems, the place, the sharing have had the same impact on you as on me. I lean over and kiss you, delivering a promise of things yet to come. I run more hot water in your tub before I step out, closing the door behind me.

I fold down the covers on the bed, exposing the gleaming white sheets where the next act is to unfold. I retrieve a bag from the closet where it has been waiting for this moment. I pull from it a handful of rose petals, each deep red and fragrant, freshly plucked from its thorny stem. I sprinkle them liberally across the bed, transforming it into an aromatic country bower ready for our love-making.

I knock, then rejoin you. You are still lounging in your hot, comfortable tub. I extend my hand and you take it, rising up like Aphrodite from the surf. Your wet skin twinkles in the candlelight, adding a surreal touch to the moment. You step from the tub, and beads of water flow down your body as I towel you off, drying you gently, paying special attention to sensitive spots that I know need to be touched.

I lead you to the bed, white bespeckled with red, its aroma spreading throughout the room. I motion for you to climb in, and you are soon on your back in the middle of the bed. Again you cast a questioning glance in my direction, but I say nothing. I join you on the bed, kneeling beside you, looking over your luscious body from your wet curly hair to the tips of your toes. Your legs are pressed together, but I can tell that you are relaxed, ready for our Valentine's adventure to continue.

I lean forward and give you a reassuring kiss. You close your eyes as I kiss your cheeks, your ears, your chin, your neck as I move ever so slowly downward. I kiss your shoulders, your breasts--lots of kisses for your breasts--your nipples, your sensitive stomach, your trimmed pussy hair. I move down between your legs which you willing spread apart allowing me unfettered access. I lean forward, planting a kiss on your clit. Your body quivers, ever so slightly.

I settle between your legs, focusing my full attention on your waiting pussy. I stroke it with my tongue, flitting it from side to side, toying with the lips, teasing my way up and down its full length. I surprise your clit with a quick series of flicks that cause it to swell and cast aside its cloak, baring itself to my further attentions. I stroke it lovingly with my tongue, my sensitive skin gliding across yours, around and around, probing here and prodding there, around and around again and again. Your hips begin to wriggle in response, so I know I am hitting your most sensitive spots. I move down, ready to penetrate your waiting pussy with my tongue, but it is not to be.

I feel your hands on my shoulders, pulling me up, up across your chest until my ready cock is lodged at the entrance to your pussy. You reach behind me, grab my ass, and pull my cock up into your cunt. It glides easily inside, its passage lubricated by your eager wetness, and soon I am lodged deep inside you, buried to the hilt, my pelvis pressed frimly against your firm clit.

You begin moving beneath me, and I follow your lead. I thrust into you, slowly at first, then faster and harder. I keep my pelvis pressed against your clit, using it to massage that tender button as my hard cock fills your pussy. I feel your fingers digging into my back as you seek leverage to thrust your lower body against mine, assisting your pulsating pussy to engulf my cock completely with every stroke. Our motions become more rapid as I tenderly kiss your eyes, your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your ears.

We cum together, each swept by a powerful orgasm that has been incubating within us since the last time we were together. It is a wave forged of pent-up emotion, frustration, affection, and promise. The wave sweeps over us, tumbling us together, blending our energies, sweeping us upward, ever upward, until we reach its magnificent, turbulent crest. We hold each other tightly, clinging to the moment as my warm cum shoots inside you, fulling you with my salty juices.

We rock together, unwilling for the moment to end, sweat trickling off of our bodies as our conjoined bodies become one, fused together by overwhelming passion. And then we slide down the back side of the wave, gliding down from the intensity of our mutual climax, gradually able to refocus on the here and now.

We remain locked together as we gather our senses, unwilling, or unable, to move apart. The room is suffused with the sweet smell of the rose petals crushed beneath us and the sexual musk of combined cum and sweat. We fall asleep nestled in one another's arms.

Happy Belated Valentine's Day.