I open my eyes. I forget for a moment where I am, until I feel the warmth next to me. I feel her breath against my neck and realize the comfort of her arm around my chest. I am in bed with her. In a hotel room that I had rented in case we were to drunk to go back. I stare out at the wall, beyond the shadows of the darkened room, and try to match my breathing to hers.
But with a sigh, I softly lift her arm and slide out from the haven of our bed. I deposit her slender limb back where I was and kneel by the bed. I rest my chin on the mattress and observe how her hair falls across her ethereal features like a veil across a memory. I ponder the color of her dreams: are they pale and fragile like her skin, or golden and engrossing like her hair?
After a few moments, I cross over to the bathroom, each movement deliberate and calculated to diminish any sound which might awaken her. I cringe as the latch of the bathroom door slides in place, each creak of the mechanism reverberating in my ears like a rifle shot. I click on the light and realize my senses are still dimmed from the night's partying. At the sink, I struggle with the faucet, a cheap plastic crystal that is pushed left or right to achieve the desired temperature. I push all the way to the right, embracing the idea of ice-cold water drowning away my weariness.
I reach over for a washcloth and let it drop in the sink where it greedily soaks up the cold water. When the water starts to pool over the cloth, I pick it up and slap it against my face. I lean my head back and feel the cold water flow down my neck, branching out against the continent of my skin. I shiver as the liquid hardens my nipples and causes a slight stir between my legs. When excitement begins to haunt me, I pull the washcloth away and let it flop on the floor.
Switching the light off and shutting the faucet, I leave the bathroom and quietly head for the balcony. The hotel is in the center of town and the room is on the fifth story. I slide the patio door and swiftly slip outside, sliding the door back to within an inch of being completely sealed. A small winter breeze blows in to the room and I hear her shift, likely wrapping the blankets tightly around her form.
Naked against the brisk night air, I watch a dancing pattern of lights twinkle across a cityscape. I close my eyes and breath deeply, thinking that perhaps I can absorb a bit of all the mysteries that make up this painting of life. I search for an insight regarding my own mystery.
A blinking sign across the street shows it is 3 a.m. and 28 degrees outside. I fight my body's fear of cold for as long as I can, but ultimately I retreat back inside. She has turned towards the window - the blankets tightly hugging her body - and the moonlight floating through the patio door gives her face the luminescent qualities of a favorite fantasy. I walk over to the leather reading chair that accompanies the room's small table and turn it in her direction. Within arm's reach is a small cooler. I crack it open and pull out a bottle of water. I lean back in the chair, taking a gulp and shiver from the shock of my cooled skin coming in contact with the warmer cowhide.
She twists again, now laying on her back. She has pushed blankets away, exposing her body completely to the moonlight. I watch as her breasts rise and fall; her nipples are hard and inviting. I put the bottle aside and walk over to her. She seems to sense my presence and squirms, moaning softly. I lay my fingertips on the base of her chin and gently trace my way down to her mound, hidden by the blankets. As I run my fingers up and down from her belly to her neck, my nails brushing against her skin like a feather - or a wish - I whisper her name. She throws her arms over her head and arches her back, aching for a deeper touch. I lean down and kiss her heart through her skin.
I pull the blankets off her completely and take their place. While I delicately rest my weight on her she opens her eyes. She smiles and spreads her thighs; I move in between them and savor her moisture against my cock.. She moves her hips up and down, coating my erection with her juices, and we kiss. From that initial kiss, I caress her face with my lips; the small beads of perspiration that form on her forehead from excitement send tremors through my lips to my groin; the trace smell of Obsession drifting from her neck as I breath across her ears makes my heart beat faster; her breath against my throat triggers a few drops of pre-come to escape my cock.
I hover over her, waiting, letting the hairs on my chest tickle her nipples. "Down there," she asks me, pushing down on my shoulders..
A slave to her desire, I slide my body down hers, the only contact between us the hairs on my chest. Near the source of her nectar, I lean back on my knees and take in the sight of our greatest difference. While I gaze at her sweet petals, I lift her legs and slip her toes between my lips, blowing and softly licking each of them in turn.
I see her twitch with each flicker of my tongue, and I suddenly wonder who is the most tortured by this slow building to the meal of her pussy. But I get the answer when, with a crazed look in her eyes, she her moves her legs aside, lunges for my head, and buries my face in her crotch.
The musky odor from her pussy sends me into a frenzy. My tongue sneaks through her, tasting each crevice and fold her flesh forms. When I find her luscious little clit, I freeze. It seems almost alive, caught in the trap of my lips. As her body spasms, more and more of her juices flow across my chin. I finally decide to let my tongue dance with her button, and she almost renders me unconscious with the force of her thighs snapping shut across my head.
I rest peacefully, nestled against her snatch with my tongue fused to her clit. Now, she takes control, gyrating and grinding her pelvis in a means to connect us in this way forever. She reaches for my wrists and pulls my hands up to her tender breasts. I feel as if I may cut myself on her ever stiffening nipples. When I finally move my tongue in response to her motions - all the while pinching her nipples -- she cuts loose with a gasp and a moan that resonates like a melody to my ear.
