There is a very good reason why I am staying overnight at your house, in your bed with you, both of us wearing just our knickers and t-shirt: I had another glass of wine and can't drive home; my car has broken down; you invited me over for dinner and we chatted until late...
It is dark outside and - snuggled under your duvet, so close in the half-light - we talk and laugh until somehow our conversation turns (as it has before) to masturbation: what we think about, how we do it, what feels good. Our words tempt each other...
Initially, we're passing it off as a joke but it's not long before we're touching ourselves, slowly and shyly at first, but our bodies are responding to the excitement of what we are about to do. We both know we shouldn't be doing this, but my attraction to you has always been too strong to ignore.
I watch as you stroke your fingers over the top of your knickers... then the bulge of your hand easing downwards beneath fabric. I imagine the heat you are feeling. I wonder how wet you are. Looking up at your face, I see your expression change to one I have only imagined before: desire. I feel a rush of wetness between my legs and, with you watching, I move my knickers to one side and slide my finger down over my clit, to the wetness between my legs and up again, circling my fingers. It feels so good to touch myself like this as I watch you doing the same, our soft moans combining, growing louder...
I have to see you naked.
I'm afraid of breaking this spell, but somehow I ask you to take your clothes off. I can't believe it when you agree but, with a smile, I remember the adventurous, often unpredictable side of your personality which I've always been so attracted to.
There's the urgent pull and slide of cotton over smooth skin before we're both completely undressed, our upper bodies turned towards each other. The fall of your breasts towards mine, the soft curve and the darker pink of your nipples, is almost too much to resist. And as your eyes meet mine and then travel down the length of my body, I know you're thinking the same. God I want to reach out and touch you - but I can't, I shouldn't.
I want you so much.
I gaze into your enticing eyes - dark green, glittering in the low light - and, as always, you are magnetic, charged. It would be so easy, feel so natural, to lean towards you and touch my lips to yours.
I force myself to look away and, as I move my fingers a little faster and harder over my clit, I watch you touching yourself, sliding your fingers into yourself and back up, arching your back in pleasure. What a feeling to see you like this, naked in every way - I could watch you like this forever.
We keep playing with ourselves until I'm consumed by the soaring crescendo between my legs: raw, unstoppable, spiralling up through my limbs and taking me over. My body feels beyond my control now as I instinctively push forward slightly into you and our nipples touch. The feeling of your skin against mine, so warm and alluring, is electric - the tipping point - and suddenly I'm coming, coming and jolting against you, crying out in pleasure. Your eyes upon me as I climax is like sharing a secret, laying myself bare. Becoming yours.
For a second, I take my hand away and you see how wet I am; sticky come between fingers. Impulsively, (I've always loved this about you: the sudden energy of your body in contrast to your stillness and calm) you reach down with your other hand and pull my fingers to your lips. I've just come but the touch of our hands, our fingers together, is the most erotic feeling and new tingles run down the length of my body. I watch in ecstasy as you lick my fingers, tasting my come as you touch yourself harder and faster. You're right, you do look hot when you're flushed!
I can feel the growing tension in your body and, awestruck, I take in every little detail: the provocative motion of you, the heat of your tongue on my skin, your rising noises as you get closer and closer... Can this really be happening? Then you're lacing your fingers into mine, squeezing my syrupy hand tightly as you come, sublime release, your muscles shaking as if a current is passing through you. Did I seriously think I could watch you orgasm and resist touching you?
I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone.
As your cries turn back into muffled moans, I watch your touches slow and my desire takes over. I know I shouldn't, but I'm powerless to stop myself as I take your hand and bring it to my mouth.
I have to taste you.
Our sticky fingers push and intertwine as we lie on our sides now, facing each other - palm to palm - and I lick the salty sweet come from your hands.
Now, there is the inevitable touch of our tongues between fingers and that is all it takes...
Our tongues find each other - as they always would - slowly at first, just the tips, licking and circling. I think of how many times I've come imagining how it would feel to kiss you and the anticipation of kissing you properly sends dizzy waves of desire through my body.
The moment our lips meet tilts the world on its axis. We wriggle towards each other, the length of our naked bodies pushing together, fitting perfectly; constellations align.