After a time we neither bothered to measure nor even sense passing, she stood naked in my arms, a puddle of clothes beneath her. Our kiss came to a lingering conclusion and she treated me to a smile at once warm, mischievous, loving, and intensely sexual. She was no longer the least bit confused about what I was up to.
She began to undo my belt, but before she'd made much progress, I backed her up a few steps and lowered her to one of the reclining viewing chairs. She sat up immediately, trying to pull my shirt from me, but I pressed her back down into the chair.
"Just watch the show my love."
A bit frustrated, but willing to play along, she relaxed into the sofa-like chair and looked up at the domed ceiling above her. Points of light danced into constellations, then dissolved into a nebula of color. Comets streaked past planets that glided around stars. The music also began to build. No longer haunting, it took on an energy, a compelling rhythm that matched the pace of the projected heavens. Melodies as intricate as the lights above built, wove into each other, and dissolved.
During this time I was by no means idle. Satisfied that she had in fact settled back to watch, I kissed the hollow of her neck, then the valley between her breasts. My lips closed around one nipple as the tip of my tongue traced around it. I treated her other nipple similarly as my palm cupped the first.
After a time I reluctantly left her breasts to proceed lower. Light, teasing kisses traveled ever downward across her belly. My hands trailed along her thighs to her knees, gently parting them. Kisses lower and lower still, through the soft fur at the base of her belly, the even softer lips within.
As my tongue brushed her clit, I heard a gasp over the music. Her hands were suddenly on the back of my head, holding me to her. My own hands traveled up the delicious skin of her arms, pausing briefly at her breasts, then continuing up her shoulders, and back down her sides to rest on her hips, clutching them, holding her to me. All the while, my tongue and lips danced along her, over her, within her, building, building.
The music continued to build. By now the melody was lost in a heavy base beat. The relentless rhythm was at once frenzied and sensual, like the driving hips of rutting lovers. The lights had changed as well. Pinpoints of light expanded to intricate patterns, exploding into bursts of color. It was hypnotic. It made you feel as though you were moving, though you sat completely still. By itself it would have been breath taking. But she, of course, had other distractions.
By now my lips had settled around her clit, hot, slick and hard under my tongue. Alternating tip and flat, angle and pressure, my rhythm ever matched the pounding of the music. Her grip on me tightened as two fingers found their way into her, twisting, searching, pressing, filling.
