We wrote this together over the space of a few weeks; you can only imagine the intensity of the expectation as we each waited for our lover to e-mail her next contribution. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed sharing ourselves. Julia (a.k.a. julie_julia on Lit.)
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Katt wrote: ... kisses you softly...deeply and lingeringly, feathering my lips over yours...I move my mouth next to your ear and with a breathy whisper I say "sleep well my sweet" then suck on your earlobe and give it a quick flick of my tongue as I pull back and disappear in to the darkness...
Julia wrote: ... I wake in the night and reach out for you, rolling across the bed, feeling the warmth of the sheets where you've been lying until very recently. But you are not there. Confused and still half asleep I get up and wander down the hallway looking for you. I think I hear a faint sound downstairs; I tiptoe into the large sumptuous living room and can just make out a woman's shape in the half-light, standing on the far side, against the wall. She seems to be holding something.
Katt wrote: ... In the darkness I can just make out the details of the picture in my hand. Not sure what woke me I wandered to the living room and got a brandy. I saw the picture and picked it up. I do not know how long I have been gazing at your beauty in the picture but the light of the moon coming through the window has shifted. I take a swallow of the dark liquid and can feel the burn as it goes down. Something draws my attention to the doorway. I am not sure if it was a sound or perhaps movement but I see you striding toward me like a panther. The moonlight picks up the curves of your body and I feel heat rise in me. I love that you came looking for me with nothing on. I remain leaning against the wall letting you come to me. Every step you take feels slow and I take another fiery sip as I watch you.
Julia wrote: ... I see your eyes dart up and down my body. The sexual tension in the air is electric as I pace towards you slowly, deliberately, sensually. I reach out and take the picture from your shaking hand and hear the rhythm of your breathing waver; the only sound to be heard in the silence of my large, modern, architect-designed house in the hills.
The photograph is one of the best you ever took of me. Clad from head to toe in supple, tight-fitting cream leather with only my head and hands visible, its also one of the last you took before we had that mother of all arguments and you walked out on me nearly 4 years previously. But now you are back and that in itself could be construed as either a sign of weakness or of strength. After only 3 days you are already sleeping in my bed and the power struggle has begun. Will you bow to my superiority this time around and accede to my wishes to dominate you in my tender, compassionate yet assertive style? Or will you try to stand your ground like the stubborn bitch that you are?
I put the photo-frame down on the marble-topped table and we make eye contact. Your delectable green eyes burn into me in the dim light, your narrow, perfect narrow eyebrows slightly raised as you plan the next move. Lifting the glass to my lips, you tip it towards me, inviting me to sip the heady liquid. But your hands are unsteady and some brandy spills down my chin as I drink - it trickles down onto my perfect rounded breasts and tracks down my slender, sinewy torso. I shudder as the alcohol evaporates and rapidly cools my skin. I know you did that deliberately; it had the desired effect though, making me shudder slightly and perceptibly in the darkness. I was unable to suppress the barely-audible sigh emanating from deep within me. You smiled.
"Fuck you!" I whispered.
Katt wrote: ... It has been a long time since I have seen that look in your eyes. One I used to see all the time, a look of burning desire, and I know what you want. Even as I know what you want I am unsure what I want. I, of course, know the power struggle that will ensue if I stand up to you. While it heats things up between us it was always one of our problems. As much as you want to dominate me I love standing up to you. I smile at you again and see the intense look in your eyes sharpen.
Still unsure of the path I will take I look to the trail of brandy visible on your lovely skin. It is dry but has that sticky look on your flesh. With my eyes I travel its meandering course down your body. I see that it ended just as it began to slide between your breasts.
I look in to your eyes once more. Even in the darkness of the room I see the anger burning in your blue eyes. I know you know why I spilled the brandy on you. I also know that even through the anger you are waiting for me. You know you will feel my tongue retracing the brandy's path on your skin. Instead I make you wait.
I dip my fingers in to the brandy snifter. I feel the cool liquid on my fingers. I bring them up and smear them over your nipple. I know by your reaction it was not expected. I then let the excess drip off my fingers and on to your breast. I watch as the drop slides to the end of your nipple. It hangs there for what seems like an eternity. Just before it falls I move to catch it on my tongue. Without touching you I do. It is the sweetest drop of brandy I have ever tasted. With just the essence of you in it. I notice that you are holding your breath and I look up your torso. As our eyes meet I see the anger has faded. I know it can flare again at any moment but for now it has been replaced by a look of lust that is enough to make me tremble.
Julia wrote: ... Trying to keep my cool I casually look you up and down, squinting to make out more detail in the poor light. I can tell that you are not naked but cannot discern exactly what you are wearing. You had not been away from my still-warm bed for long so would not have had time to dress fully. My best assessment is that you have raided my dressing room and seem to be wearing one of my silk camisoles, probably dark navy blue or black, and a pair of small panties, probably mine again. Theiving bitch.
I dip the index finger of my right hand into the brandy glass; it glistens in the pale moonlight as I raise it level with your eyes for you to see. Moving towards you, I place my fingertip on your forehead causing you to flinch and your gorgeous green eyes to widen. I trace a vertical line down from your hairline to the bridge of your nose, leaving a wet trail of alcohol between your stunning, expressive eyebrows. I make my mark, like a sign of ownership, as though symbolising some unspoken rite of passage which like any other needs to be accepted as well as given for it to have any significance.
I then move my finger down to your mouth, running its tip along your parted lips before slipping it sensually between them for you to lap, lick and suck the remaining aromatic liquid from my proffered quasi-phallus. My pussy twitches and I feel my nipples harden as you savour the last of the brandy. Closing my eyes, I put my hands under my other breast, cupping it and offering it to you in tense anticipation.
Katt wrote: ... I look at your offering and tilt my head slightly. Your nipple is so hard and looks very inviting. I can already imagine it in my mouth and I love how you are standing there holding it for me.
