Late Night Blues

My eyes spring open as I feel her leave the bed, though a tiny girl, her presence always weighs heavily in my life. It's late, very late, and we'd spent the night enjoying each other's bodies. She's such a treat, our explorations take me on a journey I hope never ends.

She's up again, though, another of her late night awakenings. I've tried to guess the reasons for her insomnia, but never quite have it figured out. I know that sometimes it's her way of dealing with the troubles life throws us; what better time to contemplate than late at night, with no distractions. A way to review past mistakes, recognizing why we chose the path we chose, and learning perhaps the better choice.

And sometimes it's a way of visiting with loved ones lost; there's never a good way to say goodbye, sometimes no time, and just maybe it's best there isn't. Shouldn't we always be able to communicate with those most dear to us, whether or not they're here? I "talk" to some as well, I know those memories will never disappear; it's surprising just how good it makes one feels.

On those nights I leave her to herself, some journeys are better taken alone.

Tonight it's different, she's been happy all night long, and just seems full of energy. I'm not sure if she thinks she's letting me sleep by leaving, but I always know the moment she is gone.

I open my eyes and lay there, listening to the noises of the night. I can hear her wandering around the other room, what cd will she play tonight? It's always such a treat to hear what mood she's in, so much about music I've learned from her.

I'm surprised, though, by the soft strumming making it's way into the room. It sounds too clear to be a recording; might I be hearing my love as she makes her own sweet music?

I creep from the bed, tiptoeing silently to the door and peek around. My eyes feast upon the sight before me; my sweets lying flat on the floor, her head resting on a pillow, hair spread out like an angel's wings. She's naked, oh so lovely, wearing only her guitar resting on her stomach.

Her eyes are closed, head nodding slowly, keeping time with her fingers as they strum and form those soothing chords. The tempo picks up a bit, and I hear a funky beat, her belly ring acting as percussion as it taps against the back of the guitar. God, what a sexy sight, her body moving so sensuously on the floor, like an exotic beast.

I slowly make my way into the room, barely moving the air within. She senses me somehow, her eyes open and lock onto my face. Oh how I get lost in that gaze, swimming in the blue of her eyes. A smile grows, she loves looking at me, loves knowing I'm hers, and recognizes that very same smile on my own face. She nods to the floor in front of her, I sit and watch my angel play.

As always though, when I'm near her I find it impossible not to touch. There's something about her skin, her body, her very aura that calls out to my hands. My fingers take hold of her feet, rubbing gently on the soles, my thumbs pressing out any stress she might be feeling.

Her strumming grows slightly faster, stronger, almost like it's connected to her pulse. My hands now rub over her ankles, up along her calves. Skin like the softest silk, muscles firm underneath. Her legs spread open, a not-so-subtle invitation to move higher. Am I a fool? I know the treasure that awaits me, and upward my fingers take my hands, as my smile grows bigger.

I'm amazed at how she concentrates on her playing, the smoothness of her skin has me forgetting how to breathe. But touching and caressing comes easily; especially working with such a beautiful subject. My fingers dance along her thighs, a dance I hope will last forever.

I'm finally able to jar that concentration, when I surprise her with my lips. She quickly recovers, though, and starts to pick a bluesy sound, her fingers bending those strings, making them wail in the quiet night. No more strumming, instead a song that's comes right from her heart. I follow her lead, as she climbs up the frets I make my way up her thigh, my mouth never stopping the contact with her skin.

I can taste the salt from her sweat, I can taste it and I only want more. My hunger will not be sated, no matter how long this feast lasts. My tongue darts out, slowly I drag a wet trail along the inside of her thigh, higher and higher; I hear her breath suck in, but her playing never falters, though the tempo speeds up, along with her pulse.

When I reach that wonderful crease where thigh meets heaven I begin to smell her desire, and a low moaning joins in the song that she's playing. There's no more tapping on the guitar, instead only the harmonious sounds flying out of her mouth, and the soulful wailing of those strings.

I'm breathing heavy now, my own desire overtaking me; I need to taste her. And, just like that first bite of watermelon on the hottest of days, this kiss is wet and juicy, her syrupy wetness squishing all over my face. Some of my thirst is quenched, but so much more still remains. I taste a little bit of myself mixed in with her, such a scrumptious stew we've managed to brew earlier in the night.

The sinews in her thighs stand out, as her back arches up off of the floor pushing her pussy right against my mouth. I'm not sure whose hunger is stronger, hers or mine; we're both growling like ravenous creatures of love.

My tongue splits the groove right down the center of her lips, plying her open like the petals of a midnight flower. Inside is that precious bud, surrounded by a bath of her nectar. Her fingers are bending those strings, matching perfectly the wail of her voice, each vibration being felt in her flesh.

As her body begins to tense, finally the guitar gets discarded, and her hands instead play with my head. Those pretty little fingers become entwined with my hair, moving my mouth all around. I spread her wide with my fingers and my tongue closes in, that little bud is mine; oh what a sweet sound I hear as my lips grasp it between them. My tongue never stops rubbing, her body starts to thrash; I hold on tight for this ride of my life as the floods begin. To drown here would be an end with no complaints, but instead we celebrate a renewal of life. Life flowing in, life flowing out, our hearts beating as one.

Unable to breathe, I must break off the kiss, sucking in gulps of air. Her back slowly settles back down to earth, taking our minds along with it. I rest my face on her thigh, still inhaling her essence, and with each exhale I cool off her fire. I could sleep here forever, holding her, touching and tasting, listening to her breathing return to normal.

Though this song is over, I've no doubts as to so many more to come.