Panther

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.)

*************************************

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.

On impulse I move forward but instead of your nipple I go for the dried brandy on your skin. Just between your breasts near the top is the end of the trail. As soon as I press my tongue to your skin I feel you gasp and hold your breath. Slowly I drag my tongue up in the reverse pattern the brandy made. The taste mixed with you is even better than the drop off of your nipple. Once at your mouth I know you are expecting me to kiss you but instead I bite your lip and suck the rest of the brandy from around your mouth.

I pull back and see the glazed look in your eyes. You are breathing through your mouth and I can just barely see the red mark left from my teeth. You look even more like a panther now with desire and anger fighting for control in your eyes.

I can feel the brandy on my forehead. It is almost dry and I know the significance of it. I wonder if you would ever be truly satisfied with someone you cannot control completely?

I look down and see you still holding your breast for me. I love that you are. Your nipple is so hard I move my tongue over the entire surface. Tasting you and brandy. With your nipple as hard as it is I know I will have to give it some attention to get all of the dried drink from your flesh. Working your nipple with my tongue I cannot help but suck on it. I know you love that. I nip and pull on it and then very slowly I let it pop from my mouth. I see you shudder and I relish the sound it made and your reaction. I stand and look in to your eyes once more. With an eyebrow raised I wonder what you will try next and smile at you.

Julia wrote: ... No-one has ever sucked my nipples as wonderfully and erotically as Kattrina does. Her technique, practiced over the years we were together, always drove me wild and it was one of the things I missed most during the years we were apart. Now she's back I want her to lick, suck, nibble, lap, pull, tease and play with them as only she can. I want it now, I want it badly and I want it long and hard (like my teats are now). But I cannot let her know, for fear that she will construe my desire as a sign of weakness. I try to stay calm, nonchalant, forcing her to work hard to please me as I know she will. That is for certain; Kattrina always pleases me when we fuck.

I reach out a hand and run my fingers slowly down her cheek, caressing her soft smooth flesh from the hairline at her temple down the side of her face, catching my fingertips tenderly on her ear. Then onwards down the side of her neck, stopping only when I get to the narrow silk shoulder strap that supports the sensual flimsy garment concealing her body. Teasingly I slip the slender strand of material off her shoulder and she flinches, barely perceptibly, and I take away my hand. She holds still for a moment, waiting to feel my touch on her skin again and wondering where that might me.

She lets out a short 'ah!' as I place my fingertip on her bottom lip, dragging it down to indicate that I want her to open her mouth. She obliges unquestioningly and cheekily darts out her tongue to make contact again with my finger. I laugh and pull away. Moving my hand around to the back of her head, I delight in the soft silken feel of her hair between my searching fingertips. Cupping my as-yet untouched other breast with my free hand, lifting it to a more accessible height, I draw Kattrina's face close to it. Pausing, I hold her where she cannot quite reach my erect, probing nipple with her outstretched tongue.

Although the windows are wide open on this hot summer's night and the room is filled with the sweet smell of a countless pine-needles in the surrounding forest, not a sound can be heard outside. The night is clear, the air is still and the silence is electrifying. My ears strain to hear any noise at all. Only the soft sound of two female bodies breathing in unison to a slightly wavering rhythm, the tense expectation betrayed by the occasional sigh. And the delectable sound of an open, eager mouth, moistened by copious streams of warm, sticky, sweet-tasting saliva excreted instinctively in readiness for its unspoken purpose.

Implying granting of permission, I pull Kattrina's head closer to my firm, swollen breast and anticipate the moment when her parted lips will make contact with my throbbing, aching nipple.

Katt wrote: ... I feel you tighten your grip on my hair as my lips get closer to your nipple. I open my mouth and allow it to form a seal around your nipple, but touch nothing. After a moment of this you arch your back against me and I hear what I can only describe as a growl come from you. The seal around your nipple is broken slightly as I smile.

I feel you tighten your grip on my hair even more. I know you are losing patience with me. I also know that you love the struggle you have with me. On some level anyway.

I blow out keeping my mouth tight against you. Still not touching anything important. I know you can feel it in your nipple even without my touching you. Then I suck. Still not touching you I hear a slight moan. I can feel your frustration at my denial of what you want. Of course by denying you, I am also denying me too because I have always loved your nipples.

Suddenly, without warning, I bite you. I sense as much as hear the sharp in take of breath from you. I am sure I can feel your nipple throbbing in my mouth. You firmly give my hair a yank but we both know that move turned the balance of power back in my favor. I cannot help but laugh and smile against you.

I hear you say through clenched teeth. "Bitch."

Still smiling I slowly rub my tongue over your tortured flesh. I suck it gently and feel you relax the grip on my hair even as you pull me tighter against you. I know you live for this. Even after four years that has not changed. I loose myself in playing with your nipple.

Finally I pull it from my mouth and stand up. Once more I look in your eyes. Your hand is still in my hair but relaxed. You appear to be in your own world for a moment. When your eyes focus on me I smile at you.

Your eyes seem a darker shade of blue even in the darkness of the room. I know that shade and I have always loved it. It has always meant one thing, that you want me.

Slowly I move forward and notice that you are not stopping me. I smile at you again and raise my eyebrow.

My lips are dying for yours. I could not stop the kiss even if I wanted to. Only you could stop it and thankfully you do not. Our lips meet and part at the same time. To me it feels as if you need this as much as I do. We melt together fitting like we always have. Kissing you it is as if the last four years apart never happened. I feel your tongue on mine and it sends shivers racing down my spine and all of them seem to gather in the pit of my stomach. Your tongue feels like velvet on mine. So hot and soft yet demanding. Oh god I have missed you.

Julia wrote: ... Slowly, sensually our mouths combine and our tongues probe inside, around and over each other's lips. Gently, wetly we explore territory that was once so familiar but which now we discover anew like teenagers on a first date. I slide my mouth away from yours, then covering your cheeks, you nose, your eyes, your ears, your whole face with wet expressive open-mouth kisses. I feel you sinking as the strength ebbs away from your legs, weakening under the onslaught of my affection.

Still the only points of contact between our selves are our mouths and my one reassuring, steadying hand behind your head. Now I hold your head between two hands, gripping it more firmly behind your ears, running my thumbs over your temples, gradually massaging away tension, fear, hate, longing, resentment, bitterness, yearning and the myriad other emotions that have built up whilst we have been apart but which begin to fade now we are together.

Only when I am certain I have moistened you entire face with my saliva and at the same time consumed the residue of brandy on your lips (but not your forehead), I pull away and look at you again. Your eyes tell their own story. As the very first light of dawn begins to filter into the room at the start of a long mid-summer day, I can see you a little more clearly. I am intoxicated by what I see and am filled with a powerful desire to take you and have you.

Without warning I wrap my arms around you and I'm overcome with lust and passion. I pull you towards me, almost crushing my breasts against yours. I hold you tight, squeezing, pressing myself against your silk-clad body. You know how much I adore the feel of silk against my naked skin, no doubt that is why you chose that camisole from my extensive collection. Our legs interlock and we grind our pubic mounds together. Our searching mouths take on a new, almost frightening urgency. We writhe against each other and I delight in your response as you reciprocate.

Katt wrote: ... I cannot believe how much I have missed this and you. Even the last few days have not been like this. This is how we used to be together.

I love the feel of your hard nipples against my own. With only the thin silk material separating us. The heat coming from your body is driving me insane with desire.

When you were kissing my face I felt such devotion coming from you. I have not experienced that for so long. That is one thing I have only ever gotten from you. I know you left the brandy on my forehead right now I accept that but surely you know control is a two way street with me.

The early light is bathing everything in the room a soft blue. It almost looks smoky and that fits the mood between us.

As you bring your mouth back to mine the heated kiss picks up as if never stopped. I feel my knees hit the floor gently. I was so lost in the kiss I did not realize you were lowering us. The carpet feels even softer on my knees than it did to my feet. Of course I knew it was for we have been here before.

Gracefully you move to a sitting position without breaking the kiss. You draw me to you and I move to wrap my legs around your waist. I know you can feel my wetness on your lower belly. I move against you to assure you do.

I pull back to look in your eyes. So much is said without a word spoken. I feather my fingertips over your face. You close your eyes and allow me to touch you. Caressing your face it strikes me that you have lost some weight while we were apart. Your skin is still flawless and supple. I see your blue eyes open as I run my thumb over your lower lip. The tip of your tongue barely grazes my thumb it is like electricity touching me. My breath catches as I look in your eyes.

Julia wrote: ... Because we are similar in height but you are sitting on my thighs, I have to tilt my head back and look up to you to return your gaze. This is unfamiliar to me and I feel uneasy being looked down upon. I try in my mind to balance my naturally powerful, sometimes overpowering, self-confidence with my need to rebuild a trusting relationship with you. I allow you to attend to me in your tender way and delight in the sensual communication that is the interplay between our mouths, fingers and tongues.

Your body has always attracted me. I hold an image of you in my mind and clearly remember the well-defined, almost perfectly sculptured shape of your slim torso and your taut smooth tummy honed by years of swimming and diving. Your tight yet rather disappointingly flat bum more than compensated for by your delicious 34B boobs. Symmetrical and sitting perfectly, invitingly on your chest, their immaculate nipples, small yet perfectly defined, point ever-so-slightly upwards when erect, just right for sucking on. And sucking is what I want to do now more than almost anything else. That and simply seeing your enticing, gorgeous body naked again, a body made for one thing and one thing only

.

I hook my fingers under the hem of your/my/our black silk camisole and edge it upwards over your torso. When it reaches your breasts I deliberately drag it over their curving form, snagging the edge on your nipples so they momentarily rise then drop with a gentle bounce. You protest in vain in that familiar tone that says 'no' when it really means 'yes'. Then they are naked in front of me. Inviting, exposed, desirable and now within my reach.

I pull the camisole over your head with a flourish as you obligingly raise your arms and throw it off, shaking your head to rearrange your dark hair back into some semblance of dishevelled order. As you drop you arms and place your strong hands on my shoulders, I tear my gaze away from your captivating eyes and look straight ahead.