I love the way your body looks, lying naked on your front on the bed. Skin smooth and soft, glowing and still warm from the bath. The muscles in your shoulders and back subtly defined by the position of your arms as you rest your head on them, face to the side with a micro-curl at the corner of your lips. Your slow deep breathing raising your frame and sinking deeper into the mattress with each inhale and exhale. Comfortable, safe, warm. You give me the side-eye -- a knowing, playful look -- as I position myself straddling your hips in just my boxers, before closing your eyes again with a deeper sigh as you relax into this slow purposeful foreplay.
My hands, warm, start a light massage of your shoulders and back, kneading a few knots lightly with my palms in a way that pulls the occasional relaxing groan from your lips. I smile to myself, knowing it's about this point that you always wonder, usually out loud - "how does he always know where exactly where they are?" - always a little surprised how easy I read you. But that's not the kind of deep-tissue therapy we're here for.
So my touch turns a little lighter, fingertips now, that start to trace with smooth motions from your hair-line and graze southwards -- light as I can -- following the curves onto your shoulders. It's my attempt to not touch your skin at all, but to skip thru the tiny invisible hairs that line it all over, so as to be as imperceptibly perceptible as possible. I follow the curves further round to your collar bone, outlining it and running fingertips along the ridge. One hand follows the other, middle and index fingers only to make contact. Reaching your right shoulder, they lead up onto your back, snake "S-shaped" towards your spine and back out again towards your side. Still following one hand after the other, lightly so lightly, they stroke your side over your ribs, before circling back upwards -- tickling a little as they go -- closer now to your front than your back, as I inch my touch towards your side boob. Your skin here, so soft and sensitive causes you to tense and roll your shoulders up a little and let out an audible nasal breath, turning your face into the sheets for a second. I reply with a soft chuckle and quiet moan of my own appreciation.
Watching the way you react gives such satisfaction. Without pause I turn my hands over and lead with my wrists: lightly dragging the back of my fingers behind as I move them to your left side now to repeat with further stroking the as-yet-unstimulated nerves on your left side.
Small meandering movements in my stroking, pauses and breaking contact measured in half-moments as I write unknown shapes up and down, left and right across your skin. One hand always leading, swapping and leap-frogging, but always together so far, in un-rushed movements has guided your attention and focus to where I am concentrating my touch. Because of this, while I maintain soft movements on your left lower back with my left hand, you are unprepared for a second site of touch as I subtly, quietly manoeuvre my right to the back of your neck and shoulder again. Your reaction comes out as some combination of a small jump and a moan. I can get away with a couple more of these dual location touches, the anticipation of the floating hand visiting a second location after a delay is something I can play with -- both how long before I make contact and where.
I feel your hips rocking, with the forward thrust into the mattress having subtly more tension than the back-swing. It's a subtle movement, but I can tell that the blood and energy have been building in your pelvis under the sensation of my touch.
I take my cue to shift my weight and legs off your hips and resettle myself by your calves. My hands still haven't left contact with your skin, those snaking movements now make their way lower -- index fingers tracing from each side of your waist to your spine, they are brought together to tickle-dip for a brief second at the very top of your ass crack before heading back apart over your respective cheeks. My hands follow the silhouette curves of your ass down the side and meet up again, slowly, as I softly stroke the back of my middle fingers on the bottom shelf of your ass. They draw closer to your asshole and back of your vagina -- and both of us are acutely aware of how close I'm getting. Your breathing changes pace and depth just noticeably, and you tilt yourself upwards slightly, - your lips peeking out from between your thighs as you do -- hoping I might indulge your desire to go there, but the light teasing isn't over yet.
Instead, I turn the backs of my hands together and -- still using primarily just one fingertip per hand -- follow the curve of your legs to your inner thigh, coming tantalising close to your pussy but denying that touch, only the lightest graze of your majora, and then on with those fingers to your inner thigh. You gasp, bounce your hips and let out a frustrated half-moan as I continue fluid slow movements down your inner thigh. You're sensitive here anyway, and the teasing and light touch continues frustrate in the best way. You part your legs a little. It gives me more access, but you almost do it instinctively in perfect coordination with my movement. I know we're synced up, my touch and your body, and your movements, tenses, arching, moans, breaths and rocking will only continue to guide me. With the parting of your legs, I can continue to tickle down halfway towards your knee and back up, and be more or less rotated towards your front of back as I choose. I can also see all of you, and the wetness is beginning to glisten on your lips, fuller and more pink now.
You're no longer resting your head to just one side, instead flipping it restlessly left and riggt, or digging your nose into the mattress. Your hips buck in eagerness, as if reaching, each time I bring my touch closer to your pussy. With each pass I get closer, until I'm stoking -- with slightly heavier touch now -- your majora. Still achingly close but not conceding yet. You moan and sigh, you know I'm playing with you yet and about to give in.
