It's almost four in the morning, and I've woken up and can't fall back asleep. I creep out of bed, shuddering as the chill air flirts across my bare chest, and walk softly to the kitchen. Blue-hued moonlight slides in through the windows, casting rays on the linoleum floor, pushing back the shadows. I cross the cupboard above the sink and remove a glass, fill it with water. I sip at the water as I stare out the window at the moon-lit yard below and clear my head of the day's thoughts.
A noise behind me causes me to shift my focus. I turn and see you standing there, faded old t-shirt that hangs down below your waist the only thing you have on. As you step into the moonlight, I feel a stirring between my legs, and almost blush in the darkness, until I realize that you can't see the growing bulge in my boxers. You step towards me, remove the glass from my hand and take a sip yourself. You place the now empty glass on the counter and as you do, I catch the briefest of glimpses of your exposed backside as the shirt you are wearing momentarily rises. You're wearing nothing but a white thong underneath. My boxers are doing very little to hide myself from you, now, as you turn back to face me, closing the distance between us with each breath. You stand barely inches from me, your eyes glimmer in the darkness.
"Can't sleep?" You ask innocently enough, as your finger traces the figure of the muscles on my chest.
"No...Not tired" I reply, as I step forward, sliding my hands around behind you, cupping your cheeks and pulling you nearer. You wrap your arms around my neck.
"What shall we do, now that we're awake..?" you ask, in the innocent voice again.
"I can think of a few things I'd like to do..." I say, as our lips meet. Your lips are open and your tongue sensuously explores my mouth for a scant few moments before you pull back, tracing my lips with your tongue.
You break our embrace, walking backwards towards the kitchen table. You beckon to me with your finger. I follow, stepping across the broken shards of moonlight on the linoleum floor. You sit upon the kitchen table and slide backwards, spreading your legs ever so slightly, allowing me just a glimpse of what lies between. That glimpse drives me on. I step towards the table, reach forward and pull the old t-shirt over your head and toss it behind me. It floats like a leaf to the floor and then I forget about it, as your breasts are exposed, glistening with the sweat of your excitement as the cool moonlight plays across your bronzed skin. I reach forward, wrapping my arms around your back and we kiss again, in the moonlight, our tongues exploring each other in the dark. You taste sweet, like ripened strawberries, fresh picked. I want more. Once more, you break the embrace, pulling back ever so slightly. I step back, curious and eager to see what you are up to this time. You lean back on your hands on the table, spreading your legs. My gaze shifts, from your intensely beautiful eyes, to your elegant breasts, down to the crevice between your thighs, hidden just behind the flimsy fabric of the thong.
"Do you like what you see...?" you whisper in the dark.
I breathe a heavy "Yes" although the growing warmth in my loins speaks for itself. You take one of your fingers and delicately lick it, up and down, placing it in your mouth and sucking on it. Removing it from your mouth, you leave behind a slight strand of saliva that falls from your lips onto your breasts. You gaze down at yourself, grinning impishly in the steel-blue moonlight. Your finger traces the curves of your breasts, leaving a trail of sticky, wet, glistening saliva, across your breasts, around to your nipples, hardened and erect from the cool air and the warmth radiating from inside your body. You're staring at me intently as you circle your nipples with your wet finger. I can feel a shortness and quickness of breath coming on, a fever beginning to kindle inside my body. You slide your wet finger down between your glistening breasts, over your smooth stomach, and down onto the mound just before the darkness between your legs. I'm yearning to burst from the cotton restraint of my boxers, now. I can't see between your legs, the light of the moon will not shine there, but I watch as your finger disappears into it, I watch as your hand begins to move in slow circles around it, as your eyelids half-close in pleasure and private thoughts while you tease yourself.
You know I like to watch when you do this.
Your hand begins to move rhythmically, methodically, your eyes are completely closed now, your cheeks flushed with excitement. I feel a naughty, voyeuristic thrill, as if I'm watching something private, something that's only supposed to take place behind closed doors, where there are no prying eyes, save for the eyes of the man in the moon.
The motions of your hand in the shadows between your legs stops, and you slowly withdraw your fingers from their hidden place of pleasure. You re-trace the trail of saliva on your stomach, leaving a wetter, even more glistening path this time, a path made from the product of your own excitement. You circle your nipples again, until they glisten with beads of your juice, and then you take your fingers, almost dripping with your wetness, and place them up to your lips, ever so delicately. You tease your fingers around those lips, as you must have the lips between your legs, until they, too, glisten in the moonlight. Then you open your mouth, licking your fingers up and down, sucking on them, drawing them into your mouth, tasting yourself, tasting your arousal, your sex. You withdraw the fingers from your mouth, still dripping with your sex and your saliva, and offer them to me. I step forward, taking your wrist with my hand, and kiss your fingers, tasting the nectar, tasting you. I lick them up and down, mildly disappointed that most of your sex is gone, lost somewhere in your own mouth. I try to recover it. Our lips lock, tongues dancing once again. This time, I can taste your sex, the very essence of your arousal, and I want it so badly. The bulge in my boxers is brushing against the darkness between your legs as you wrap them around me. I feel the already soaking wet cloth of the thong dampen my boxers. I thrust with my hips, ever so slightly, but I know you can feel it when you arch your neck and moan. I kiss your neck, tracing my tongue down to your breasts. I lick the trail you left for me, the sweet, sticky trail that follows the voluptuous curves of your breasts, your oh-so-hard nipples, down your stomach, to your mound, into the dark crevice between your legs. Your thong is soaked through with your sex, dripping onto the table-cloth. I slide it down your smooth, silky legs with my teeth, my hands massaging your buttocks and the undersides of your thighs. I guide your legs apart, gently kissing the insides of your thighs, slowly licking up and down the insides of your legs, feeling you tremble in anticipation. You can't restrain yourself any longer, as I tease the outside of your wet lower lips with my tongue; you reach two fingers down inside yourself, rubbing your wet clit in anticipation of my tongue. Finally, I give you what we both want-my tongue flitters upon your bud, causing a moan to escape your pursed lips and your head to tilt back as waves of pleasure radiate through your body. Your rub yourself harder, your fingers glistening, your hips beginning to buck and tremble with the combined pleasure of my tongue and your fingers. I probe deeper with my tongue, sliding it deep into your dripping slit, then licking it in circles across your clit. You're squeezing your thighs and bucking your hips in rhythm with your fingers and my tongue is driving you wild. I can taste you coming, I can feel it in the air, I can feel it in the way you drive your hips, in the way you move your fingers, in the way your breath comes ever shorter, harder and faster. You're almost panting now, as another long, low moan breaches your lips. Your fingers are sliding in and out of you faster and faster now, my tongue is licking your clit up and down, and your body is shaking so hard that the table you are perched upon moves with you. At last, you come, hard, your body spasming beneath my tongue and your glistening wet fingers, a gasp of pleasure erupts from deep within you. I don't stop licking the wetness from your slit. Your body spasms yet again, then a third time, a fourth, and finally, you shriek with ecstasy as you come for the fifth time in a row. I gently kiss the folds of wet skin between your legs, your sweetness still on my tongue and lips. I kiss up your trembling stomach, your panting chest, your deliciously curvy breasts, still glistening from your sweat and sex, up your neck to your mouth. I wrap my arms around your waist and pull your trembling body up, so that you're sitting on the edge of the table. You wrap your arms behind my head and pull me in close, until our mouths merge. Your lips tremble as they meet mine, your body still pulsing with the echoes of your orgasm. I kiss you, softly, slowly, letting you taste yourself on my lips and tongue. I can tell that tasting yourself is arousing you again. You begin to kiss me with more passion, more force, and you remove one of your arms from around my neck and slide it back down inside yourself. Seconds later, you take your fingers, glistening with newfound wetness, and dislocate your lips from mine. You take your fingers and lick them up and down, leaving strands of sticky wetness on your lips and tongue. Aroused by your own taste, you pull me on top of you, on the table.
My boxers are ripped away by your urgent hands as you pull me close and whisper in my ear "I want you inside of me…I need you inside of me."
