Perfection Between Lovers
He was singing to her on the balcony of his flat, his voice soft and smooth. His soothing tenor tone slid through the air like a rare silk, gracing the skies with every note. He head written those words for her as a way of showing his undying love, come what may. Christian, the young poet, poor and formerly unloved, allowed his eyes to bore into hers as he searched for her very soul. She looked at him with absolute wonder as her knees, and heart, both went weak. His lyrics were simply magic, shocking her with the electric touch of his voice and perfect caress he sent into her. There they stood in the open, caring for no one but themselves. There was no one else in the world at that very moment…only the two of them. He held her as the sun colored the sky, singing without fear or controversy. She listened to him as she leaning into his chest, mesmerized and taking in his warm sincerity. The moment on the balcony ended suddenly and hers fears reappeared. What if they had been seen? What would happen? He knew what she was thinking as her brow furrowed and he slid his arms around her waist, his head on her shoulder.
"I don't care," he whispered against the smooth skin of her neck, "All I want is you."
"If you only knew how incredible it feels to hear that from you."
"Maybe I do, darling. I have always wanted to hear it from you."
"I want to be with you more than anything, love."
He smiled, his lips close to the side of her neck. He began to rub her shoulders and back carefully, reveling in the sigh that escaped her lips.
"That's all I needed to hear."
She turned to face him and raised her hand, sliding a finger under his chin, stopping where it ended. He watched her finger bend and extend, motioning for him to come to her. He wondered why she did this, then noticed she was moving toward the bed. He followed with lust clouding his usually clear vision. When his hand touched her arm, the clarity returned. He slipped his hand into the opening of her pink kimono and rubbed her stomach gently, tickling her for a moment. She squirmed until he stopped making her skin tingle, then sighed breathlessly. He kissed her neck as he played with her smooth shoulders under the silky kimono, hoping she enjoyed it. She moved away and grinned suggestively, tugging at his coat. He allowed her to pull it off his shoulders, along with his undershirt and suspenders. She grinned when she was satisfied, raking her nails against his muscular abdomen. He untied the bow she had tied in her kimono and slid his hands down her arms as a way of ridding her of it, looking into her eyes as he did so. She raised an eyebrow and smiled, ready to help him out of his trousers. She undid the buttons and slid them down his legs. He stepped out of them and kicked them aside. She smiled at her lovers, examining his nearly nude form. His body was perfectly sculpted, which shocked her in a way. She silently wondered how the writer had so much muscle, then slipped the thought into the back of her mind. He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. The kisses became more eager and necessary as they became even more anxious. She sighed and smiled against his mouth, making him break the long line of perfect kisses. She whimpered until she looked into his passion-clouded eyes, knowing exactly what he wanted. She smiled with a touch of seduction and pulled him down onto the bed on top of her. He seemed unsure of what to do next, wanting her to guide him through the process at hand. She taught him how what they were preparing to do worked and what he should and shouldn't do, being as tender as possible and she trained the adorably naive poet. As things progressed, she found that he was a quick learner who listened to every word she had spoken. He would look into her eyes for reassurance and she would smile, nod or tell him that he what he chose to do was fine. He would smile and continue on as if he had never stopped. As the time wore on, their new form or connection became even more wonderful to the point where everything he did was perfect. When their time ended, she was tired from the lovemaking that had ensued. Satine nuzzled against his chest and sighed contently as he held her. She fell asleep in the arms of the only man she had ever loved in all the years she had been alive. Perfect…
He was singing to her on the balcony of his flat, his voice soft and smooth. His soothing tenor tone slid through the air like a rare silk, gracing the skies with every note. He head written those words for her as a way of showing his undying love, come what may. Christian, the young poet, poor and formerly unloved, allowed his eyes to bore into hers as he searched for her very soul. She looked at him with absolute wonder as her knees, and heart, both went weak. His lyrics were simply magic, shocking her with the electric touch of his voice and perfect caress he sent into her. There they stood in the open, caring for no one but themselves. There was no one else in the world at that very moment…only the two of them. He held her as the sun colored the sky, singing without fear or controversy. She listened to him as she leaning into his chest, mesmerized and taking in his warm sincerity. The moment on the balcony ended suddenly and hers fears reappeared. What if they had been seen? What would happen? He knew what she was thinking as her brow furrowed and he slid his arms around her waist, his head on her shoulder.
"I don't care," he whispered against the smooth skin of her neck, "All I want is you."
"If you only knew how incredible it feels to hear that from you."
"Maybe I do, darling. I have always wanted to hear it from you."
"I want to be with you more than anything, love."
He smiled, his lips close to the side of her neck. He began to rub her shoulders and back carefully, reveling in the sigh that escaped her lips.
"That's all I needed to hear."
She turned to face him and raised her hand, sliding a finger under his chin, stopping where it ended. He watched her finger bend and extend, motioning for him to come to her. He wondered why she did this, then noticed she was moving toward the bed. He followed with lust clouding his usually clear vision. When his hand touched her arm, the clarity returned. He slipped his hand into the opening of her pink kimono and rubbed her stomach gently, tickling her for a moment. She squirmed until he stopped making her skin tingle, then sighed breathlessly. He kissed her neck as he played with her smooth shoulders under the silky kimono, hoping she enjoyed it. She moved away and grinned suggestively, tugging at his coat. He allowed her to pull it off his shoulders, along with his undershirt and suspenders. She grinned when she was satisfied, raking her nails against his muscular abdomen. He untied the bow she had tied in her kimono and slid his hands down her arms as a way of ridding her of it, looking into her eyes as he did so. She raised an eyebrow and smiled, ready to help him out of his trousers. She undid the buttons and slid them down his legs. He stepped out of them and kicked them aside. She smiled at her lovers, examining his nearly nude form. His body was perfectly sculpted, which shocked her in a way. She silently wondered how the writer had so much muscle, then slipped the thought into the back of her mind. He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. The kisses became more eager and necessary as they became even more anxious. She sighed and smiled against his mouth, making him break the long line of perfect kisses. She whimpered until she looked into his passion-clouded eyes, knowing exactly what he wanted. She smiled with a touch of seduction and pulled him down onto the bed on top of her. He seemed unsure of what to do next, wanting her to guide him through the process at hand. She taught him how what they were preparing to do worked and what he should and shouldn't do, being as tender as possible and she trained the adorably naive poet. As things progressed, she found that he was a quick learner who listened to every word she had spoken. He would look into her eyes for reassurance and she would smile, nod or tell him that he what he chose to do was fine. He would smile and continue on as if he had never stopped. As the time wore on, their new form or connection became even more wonderful to the point where everything he did was perfect. When their time ended, she was tired from the lovemaking that had ensued. Satine nuzzled against his chest and sighed contently as he held her. She fell asleep in the arms of the only man she had ever loved in all the years she had been alive. Perfect…
