Welcome Home, Baby, a guiding light fanfic

Title: Welcome Home, Baby

Author: Kimberly21570

Fandom: Guiding Light

Pairing: Olivia and Natalia

So … much like Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows, three days in my hometown, aka The Sticks, lead to a very bored Kimmy. I went down home (I sound kinda Southern, don't I? Oddly enough, I'm not; though I have been known to say y'all on occasion) for the weekend, to bond with my sister … Well, she calls it bonding … I call it torture … I mean, seriously – The view from her living room is the neighbor's cow pasture, complete with a bull; and a smattering of chickens thrown in for good measure -- Holy chickie doop, Batman! Sure does stink 'round there! … high-speed Internet does not exist -- Egad! … and my cell phone doesn't even get a signal out there! I swear I heard my poor little car whimper, as I turned her off the beaten path, and headed down the road toward Cowtown, USA. Ugh. Anyway, in between roasting and mincing garlic, and grilling chicken for the wedding reception I was helping my sister cater, I had plenty of time to get bored, so … I penned a little Otalia erotica for y'all …

Oh, and the "chickie doop" reference … Umm, yeah -- that's compliments of my oldest niece, who at the age of 25 (and no, I'm not 90 -- she's only 3 years younger than me), I kid you not, told me, "Well that's just a big 'ol pile a chickie doop, Aunt Kim!" My reaction? Oh, Fuck, no -- she did Not just say that! But she Did. Is it any wonder I ran screaming to the city at first opportunity?!

Disclaimers and Other Assorted Ramblings: I suppose I should include all the usual disclaimers – but quite frankly, I don't know 'em all. I do know that I don't own these characters … except in my sweetest dreams! If I did - I certainly wouldn't be wasting my time writing this crap -- I'd find far better ways to utilize my time! *devilish grin*

But, I digress …

Back to our girls … If I owned 'em, they would be fucking like bunnies … er … I mean, making sweet, passionate love … instead of playing tiddlywinks and holding hands like giddy little school girls, as they look for more asinine ways to avoid the kiss we all know they both want … What's next? Hopscotch? Puhlease! How about a little jump rope with Emma. Cinderella, dressed in yellow, went upstairs to kiss a … 'fella … Eeek! Clearly, That won't work! … Ugh.

Seriously though, I am truly enchanted by these characters as portrayed by Crystal and Jessica, and I sincerely hope that I am able to do them justice.

Anyway, the characters are owned by CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. I'm a broke graduate student, so please don't sue me … I promise to return them, sated and smiling … and you wouldn't get much if you sued me anyway … Written for fun, not profit; romance, humor, and sex abound …

Rating: Definitely NC-17 / MA

Summary: Natalia welcomes Olivia home after a long day at work; and they'll never view their living room floor the same way again. First person, one-shot, from Natalia's point-of-view. Not really canon; except for a brief mention of Olivia's trip to San Francisco, which is used as a springboard for Natalia's actions. Hope you all enjoy …

Welcome Home, Baby

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight.
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints.
I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life!
And, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death."

- Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Thoughts of you have consumed me. All day. From the moment you left me in our bed this morning; momentarily sated, yet, as always, still wanting more of you …

As you attempt to extricate yourself from our bed, after making passionate love with me, the memory of wakening to the sensation of your warm tongue swirling around the tight bundle of nerves that always seems to beckon you in the early morning light, causes the muscles in my body to tremble and seize. I want you. Again. Right now. The force of my desire for you catapults me forward, and I grab you; pulling you back toward me; kissing you thoroughly. You wiggle and squeal, making a game of it to assuage your own mounting desire, and ultimately, you gain your reluctant escape. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart," you say regretfully, "but I have to boycott you today."

"What?!" I squawk; unable to believe the words that trip off your tongue. "But today is our day off …" I whine; my lower lip morphing into a determined pout.

"I know, Honey …" you whimper; pouting almost as intensely as I, "but I have a ton of work to do at the Beacon before my flight leaves tonight … and if I don't get out of our bed before you kiss me again, I'll be here all day …"

A disgruntled groan escapes my glowering lips, causing those delectable lips of yours to twitch and curl into that deliciously wicked smile. "Later …" you whisper; a promise carried on a breath. And my immediate hope is that the "later," to which you have alluded, translates into a little play-date in your office before you leave.

"Well, then …" I say; clearing my throat to sound official, "just be prepared for the homecoming of a lifetime, Baby." Issued as a feigned warning, my dark eyes silently challenge those deep jade orbs in which I so often find myself adrift.

You raise an eyebrow, which tells me you are intrigued. But you say not a word, as the tips of your mouth break into a slow, wistful smile. Our bed creaks, as you place your knee on it, and lean in; offering me the sweetest of goodbye kisses, tinged with the slightest hint of your promise of "later …"

Later … I've been thinking about it … All Day …

Dinner is almost ready now. Tuna noodle casserole. Your favorite; though you were reluctant to admit it at first. I smirk at the irony -- Your favorite dish possessing such … likeness … to your favorite way of making love to me; and wonder if your reluctance to admit your appreciation of my casserole was in any way related to your inner struggle over your burgeoning desire for me.

I toss the ridiculous, yet humorous notion aside, and after a long day of missing you, I lounge on the sofa. Is it Later, yet? No. Ugh. My thoughts once again return to you. We had planned to spend the entire day in bed; launching an exhaustive search for every fathomable way to bring one another's bodies to the pinnacle of shared ecstasy. It's new and it's extraordinary, this inextinguishable love of ours; and we wholeheartedly agreed that from the moment of our very first kiss, neither of us could ever live without it again.

Normally, you would have handled any last minute details from home; but you had to go to the Beacon to work -- because you find me too distracting. That's what you told me ... I grin devilishly as I think about this. I like it. I like that you find me so irresistible. I find you completely intoxicating. So I think it's a fair trade.

I allow a transient fantasy about surprising you at the office to drift through my mind; but as much as I want to, I know that I shouldn't distract you at work; at least not today. I smile, though, at the myriad ideas that swirl through my head, as I think about distracting you at work; and silently vow to put some of those ideas into play in the very near future. Define "very near future …"

The clock ticks; breaking into the silence of our farmhouse. Is it Later, yet? No. I sigh, and continue to indulge myself in reminiscences of you -- The way the steel jade of your eyes seems to penetrate my soul; bolting me to whatever surface I may be touching; weakening my knees, short circuiting my brain; and leaving me unable to utter even a monosyllabic sound ... the way the sensation of your warm breath, wafting across my body, tantalizes me; leaving every inch of me quivering from the inside out … the way the corners of your mouth twitch, teasing me with that barely-there smile; taking whatever resolve I may have left to resist you, and irreverently tossing it aside, as it draws me to you; leaving me breathless and aching for you, in the most intimate of places … the way even the slightest touch from you sends my body into the most exquisite frenzy; opening me to the infinite possibilities of you, and leaving the fiery embers of my desire for you completely exposed to the elements … the way your tongue tenderly caresses me, the way you gently kiss and suckle me in those intimate places, expertly fanning those embers, causing them to explode into a blazing inferno; molten lava pouring from the nucleus of my abdomen and pooling in the burning center of my need, soaking me thoroughly, and leaving my body screaming for release …

I feel my desire for you stealthily mounting, as my reverie continues … Good, Lord, how long does Later take?!

The sound of your key in the lock only serves to bolster that desire. I rise to meet you as you saunter through our front door; and though my mind cannot comprehend the notion, somehow, you manage to look even sexier than you did when you left me in our bed this morning.

You let loose of your briefcase and handbag above the antiquated wooden bench that stands beside the door, tossing your coat over them in good measure, and in one liquid movement, it seems before the discarded items even hit their target, your arms are around my waist, fingers clasped, pressing firmly against the small of my back, as you allow me to welcome you home with slow, lingering kisses.

My lips part slightly, and the sensation of your warm, velvety tongue, as it slips through the proffered opening, sends the most delightful shivers down my spine, splaying out in waves throughout my body. Those sinewy waves reach the top of my head, causing a hazy fog to billow in; clouding all thoughts except for you, the soft warmth of your silky tongue, and the corresponding firestorm that pulses between my legs. Fog is good. The waves travel from my head to the aching peaks of my breasts, and my nipples instinctively pebble as they brush against you where they mold perfectly with the lavish curves of your body. And finally, the waves reach out to the tips of my fingers and my toes, electric heat seeking an outlet, as I feel myself growing increasingly wet with desire for you.

I allow you to deepen our kiss, as I press you firmly against the front door; and the savory taste of your tongue battles with the gratifying force of your thigh as you slip it between my legs and lift; sending my mind reeling, as you press more insistently against my blazing core. I feel my wetness soaking through the fabric of my jeans; and I know that you feel it on your thigh, because you gasp sharply, and then your lungs involuntarily exhale, releasing the most guttural of moans; prompting you press even harder against me. Thank GOD it's finally Later.

We struggle for air when our kiss breaks, and one solid thought crosses my mind: No matter how many times you may kiss me with those extraordinary lips, that remarkable tongue, I instinctively know that I will get lost in the exquisite sensation – Every. Single. Time.

I search those deep jade eyes, and I press my left hand against the nape of your neck, as my right hand softly caresses your cheek. I take my turn then, bathing you in slow kisses; trailing my warm mouth, my silky tongue, across your cheek and onto your neck.

"I missed you today … All. Day. Long." I whisper; punctuating each word with kisses.

"I missed you too," you echo in response, tightening your hold around my waist and dropping your head back to allow me easier access to that sensitive spot on your sweet, graceful neck. You love it when I kiss you there; and I am only too happy to further indulge you.

Dropping my arms to wrap them firmly around your waist, I pull you closer against my body. I feel your heart beating in tandem with mine, and the nearness of your body, the current of your heartbeat, leaves me breathless. Have Any two hearts Ever been more Perfectly in sync? Lifting my thigh to press against your heated center, I blaze a trail of kisses from your neck, back to those full, inviting lips. As I press into you, I feel the wetness that matches my own, and my lungs emit a low growl; one that originates in my abdomen, and billows out into your mouth. I tease you then, lightly tugging on your bottom lip; gently nipping at it and tracing the lower edge with the tip of my tongue.

A groan of approval escapes your lips before you take charge; deepening our kisses; your tongue thoroughly exploring the warmth of my mouth once again.

"Where's Emma?" you exhale, between breath-stealing kisses; and my own arousal increases, as your wetness saturates the jeans covering my thigh.

"She's at a play-date … with Jodi …" I inform; gasping between determined forays of your practiced tongue into my mouth. "She'll be home at 8:30."

You let out a deep moan of appreciation for my stellar decision to let Emma have a play-date; and my body once again responds to your call. "Then we have a few hours …" you announce; making a quick mental calculation, as you smile against my lips. Note to Self: Emma needs more play dates! Longer ones.

Teasing quickly turns to passion as you effortlessly drop us to the floor, tugging my shirt from my jeans as we make our descent. I watch your diligent fingers, as you swiftly unbutton the offending garment, pushing it off my shoulders. My bra is your next target, and you expertly unfasten the front clasps, shoving it from your determined path. You lean in, your mouth hovering over my right breast, and I can feel the heat of your breath, only a hairsbreadth away from my straining nipple. My own breath catches in my chest, as I anticipate the exquisite pleasure of your hot, wet mouth as it captures me. And before I can exhale, your feathery tongue is assaulting me, in the most delicious way, as you straddle my hips, deliberately pressing against my wetness; and a feral groan escapes my lips, as I strain to increase the exquisite pressure.

"Patience …"

One word. That's all it takes from you, and I relent; instinctively knowing you will be worth the wait.

My lungs discharge a powerful groan, as your ardent mouth continues, alternately licking and sucking my nipples. I force us into a seated position, as I make quick work of removing your suit jacket and shirt -- it's the white one; the one you wore the day your heart stopped outside of Company. My breath catches in my chest again, as I remember the emotions and sensations that coursed through my heart and body as I unbuttoned your shirt that afternoon -- The slightest fluttering in my abdomen, as the exquisite flesh of your breasts were revealed to me; rapidly chased by the intense, immobilizing fear that I might lose you, without ever having a chance to tell you how very much I love you.

The sheer force of the fear I felt at the thought of losing you, rushes over me like a tidal wave; catching me completely unawares; seizing me in its malevolent clutches. Every remaining particle of air is instantaneously sucked from my lungs, and my eyes slam shut as I feel the prickly heat of tears burning my eyes; matching the burning in my vacant lungs. A single tear escapes a tightly clamped eyelid, trickling down my cheek; and I know that if my lungs held even the faintest trace of air, I would be sobbing uncontrollably.

You pull me out of my reverie, as you push me back down onto the floor; dipping down to kiss me again. But that single tear stops you in your tracks, as the expression on your face instantaneously transforms from one of ravenous desire to one of genuine concern. "Natalia? Are you alright, Sweetheart?" you gently inquire; the familiar jade of your eyes being replaced with a hazy mixture of fitful worry and unshed tears.

My lungs scream in agony, as I force life breath to return to them; only to immediately expel that breath in an uncontainable sob. "I love you, Olivia. I need you. Promise me, you'll never leave me … Please …" I beg. Clinging to your body; my breath is driven out in short howling bursts, as I desperately attempt to assuage my deepest fear by eliciting a solemn vow from you.

You gently extract me from your body, and tenderly capture my cheeks in softness of your hands; the hazy jade of your eyes slowly searching my tear-stained face. "I love you, Natalia … with everything in me; and I promise you, I will never leave you …" Carried on a whisper, the deep sincerity in your voice washes over me; your promise cleansing my restless heart, setting it free from the fear that binds.

Your eyes sweep across my face, surveying me carefully; and as the fear drains from my eyes, I sense the corners of my mouth curling into a soft smile -- A smile that's meant to reassure you that I hear your promise, and hold it captive in my heart.

"That's my girl …" you whisper proudly, as I feel my dimples springing to life.

You lean in, tenderly kissing away the remnants of my tears; then gently draw me into your arms. Our breasts press together; and though yours are still shrouded in lace, I find comfort in the nearness of you, as you cradle me in the safety of your tender embrace. The slow cadence of your breathing calms me, like a soothing balm, and I am overwhelmed with an aching need to be closer to you. So close, in fact, that I fear even crawling inside you; wouldn't bring me close enough.

You read my innermost thoughts, as if they were your own; and without a word between us, your heart answers my call. First, with those smoldering eyes, as you tip my chin; the deepening jade of yours finding the intense mahogany of my own. Then with your mouth, as you capture my willing lips in a passionate kiss. As the heat of your tongue swipes across my own, you gently take me back down onto the floor; and spreading your body out, flush against mine, the lace of your bra lightly brushes against my taut nipples. I whimper at the sensation of our multiple points of contact, and I am lost in you again; my mind and body suspended in the hazy mist of desire.

I sigh. Hazy is good.

As our kisses continue, becoming increasingly insistent, you reach between our bodies; and it's clear by the way you expertly unfasten the buttons on the fly of my jeans, that you've done this a few times before. I smile against your lips, as the thought crosses my mind; and then I'm swept away again, as the pressure of your hand against me causes my hips to thrust toward you; begging for increased contact. I love the way your hands feel when they touch me … You answer my call once again, as your hand slips inside, burrowing beneath the lace of the sexy underwear you bought for me.

"You're wearing them …" you growl, as your hand recognizes the texture of the fabric. And the resonance of your voice, mixed with the expression on your face, tells me two things: You are astonished that I'm actually wearing them -- and you are pleased to find them waiting for you under my jeans.

"I wanted to surprise you …" I quietly admit; a slow smile spreading across my kiss-swollen lips, as I gaze up at you. I would wear Anything for you … Anywhere … Anytime … Your call …

The deep jade of your eyes sparkles, as a devilish grin spreads across your face. "Oh, you surprised me, alright," you say, laughing softy. "Everything about this surprises me …"

"Yeah?" I whisper coyly; arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah," you quietly confirm, with a deliberate nod of your head.

"And?"

"And … I like it …"

I smile at your admission.

You shift your hips against me; causing your thigh to slip between my legs, as your fingers lightly brush against the moisture that has gathered in the downy curls between them; and the tips of your mouth curl into a satisfied smile, knowing that it's all for you … and all because of you. Don't you know? You have this effect on me Every time you Kiss me.

"You like that too?" I huskily inquire; my lips twisting into a devilish grin.

"Oh, Yeah," you exhale. Declared on a groan, I am unable to stifle the intrusive image of Kool-Aid Man, bursting through our living room wall; finding us half-naked, and poised for a long, slow fuck. Damn that Family Guy.

I chuckle softly; my chest rising against yours in short thrusts.

Your face scrunches up, as you attempt to decipher the quirkiness of my behavior in the midst of such an intimate moment. "What's so funny?" you inquire; your sleek eyebrows knitting together.

Doubting you will have even the slightest clue as to who Kool-Aid Man is, a quick decision is reached to ignore the inquiry, and instead, draw your attention back to the fact that your hand is buried in my jeans, and your thigh is wedged between my legs; both pressing determinedly against my simmering mound of sodden desire. "Nothing … never mind … just … touch me …" I plead; thrusting my hips against your hand and thigh.

Clearly, you need no reminder, as your hand swiftly glides around my hip; leaving a trail of my wetness in its wake. It burns into my skin, like hot molten lava, reminding me of the intensity of my eternal desire for you; and an visceral groan escapes my lips.

Seizing my ass, you lift me toward you; as your thigh forcefully pushes against me. The jade of your eyes turns dark and stormy; matching the storm that is brewing in my own eyes. You watch me. Your gaze is steady and intent; and I swear I can feel my pupils dilate under the vigilance of your intense orbs, as your hips and thigh begin a slow, torturous grind against me, once again causing the lace of your bra to gently tease my taut nipples.

I gasp for air as your thigh smashes against my throbbing center, and I realize that I am missing your mouth. "Kiss me." God I want you …

Promptly, you oblige, taking my mouth in a crushing kiss; and I feel the heat of your tongue thrusting in perfect time with your hips. The insistent force of your mouth and tongue, skirmish with the driving intensity of your hips and thigh, as they crash into my body; and I feel as though I might just lose my mind. You are driving me completely insane. And my unconscious mind issues forth a dozen Hail Mary's in penance for the incessant vulgarities that waft through my brain, as I reach my hands behind you, clutching your ass; fervently shoving myself against you.

Then, out of the fog that permeates my brain, comes the remembrance that it was I, who was welcoming you home; and as loudly as my body is screaming for you to release me, it screams louder for me to release you. To show you, in the most intimate of ways, how very much I love you; to share that secret connection with you … before you go …

Propelled by this insatiable need, I swiftly take action. "Oh, no you don't …" I whisper against your succulent lips. "I get to go first," I insist, as I roll us over, settling you on the floor facing me.

Startled by the coolness of the wide plank hardwood floor against your back, you shriek and lurch forward; forcing me to my knees.

"A little cold, Baby?" I surmise; flashing you a daring smile.

You pin me with that look; the one that tells me you want to curse, but you're holding back, lest you offend my Catholic schoolgirl ideology.

I laugh. Considering our current state of undress, and the activities in which we are about to engage, I highly doubt your Language would offend me.

Your pensive stare, shifts upon hearing my laughter, and the corners of your mouth twitch, curling into that smile; the one that turns my insides to mush. And you laugh with me. I love that about us … the way we laugh together.

As much as I enjoy teasing you, I am also fiercely protective of you. And my protective side now winning out, I reach up, grabbing your coat from the bench; and spread it out on the floor behind you.

"Thank you," you whisper; the sincerity in your voice catches in my heart.

"You're welcome," I say; delivered with a smile, and sealed with a slow kiss, as I gently return you to the floor. Reclaiming my place, I spread out atop you; like a languid cat, stretching out for a nap; my aching center taking the position on your body; that yours recently vacated on mine. Clearly, I have No intention of napping.

Teasing aside, I allow admiring eyes, darkened almost to black with desire, to gently trace the outline of your stunning countenance; my index finger trailing along where appreciative eyes have recently traversed; and I am overwhelmed by the pristine exquisiteness that is you. I kiss you again; slowly, reverently, before moving from your lips, across your cheek to your ear, allowing my tongue to trace the outline, before nibbling gently on a pliant earlobe. "I love you, Olivia," I respire; my declaration a breathy whisper; and I feel your body instantly respond to the gentle timbre of my voice.

I nuzzle your neck for a moment, breathing in the faint musky scent that is you; and I remember how, even before I understood what I was feeling for you, the slightest hint of your musky aroma caused the sweetest reactions in my body. The scent of you drives me wild. I remember countless times when you leaned over me, as we reviewed the latest financials, or vendor contracts, or some other insipid document; but there was nothing insipid about being so close to you. No. Being close to you was exhilarating. It was arousing, in the most delightful of ways. It was a myriad of thoughts, words, emotions and physical reactions that I cannot even begin to describe. It caused my heart to flutter and my head to swim; especially in those moments when I would catch you watching me rather than paying attention to our paperwork, or when we would simultaneously turn to one another, my dark eyes locking on the deep jade of yours. The sweet tension that flowed between us was, at once, both maddening and revitalizing. Have you any idea how many times I just wanted to devour you, right there on your desk? And in those moments when I would catch a glimpse of the delicate swell of your breasts as you lingered over me, the air would be sucked from my lungs, as my body broke out in a sweat. All of that, before you even kissed me that first time. And after that first kiss ... I was a goner … It may have taken us another four months to get real with ourselves, but I was yours, heart, soul, mind and body, the moment your sweet, succulent lips first touched mine … And all of those things that were, before that first kiss, still exist in the wake of that kiss … only intensified to the umpteenth power …

Departing that warm, inviting place in your luxurious neck, I slowly begin kissing my way to your shoulders -- you like it when I kiss your shoulders; and then the heat of my tongue invents a path to your collarbone. As it swipes across, I taste the salty sheen that I am certain now blankets your entire body; telling me that the internal gauge of your desire is steadily increasing, in direct proportion with my own. I linger there, cleaning the brine from your skin; my tongue gently stroking you like a mother cat cleans her kittens; as I slip your black lacy bra away from your flesh and toss it behind me. My first glimpse of the curved swell of your glorious breasts causes a rush of desire to flow through me, and my own nipples swell and throb in response.

Catching my breath, I continue my descent to the smooth slope of your round, pert breasts; and I watch, mesmerized, as the gentle wafting of my breath causes your nipples to pebble and strain.

And then I see it. The scar. The one that runs vertically between your breasts; a gentle reminder that the heart of the man we both loved, beats in your chest; each heartbeat delivering the renewed breath of life. I know it's there; but each time I see it, my own heart stops, if only for a brief moment of reverence. Your eyes search mine, and I know we're both thinking of him. And I am thinking of him. Not with longing, but rather, with eternal gratitude.

I feel your gentle gaze on me, as slowly, slowly, I trace the scar with my lips and tongue; sealing my gratitude with soft, open-mouthed kisses; my heart silently issuing forth a prayer of thanksgiving for the intertwined gifts of your life and your love. Thank God for you.

And when I finish, my eyes find yours again, and I ascend to meet your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss -- One that expresses the depth of my love for you, without need of a single word.

When our kiss ends, I slowly make my way back to where I began. You grunt and mutter something unintelligible, as my tongue trails a line of fire around each breast. Then, working my way, in slow, torturous circles, my mouth finally finds your right nipple, and I suck gently on your sensitive bud as my hand slowly massages its twin. You squirm and moan; and I exhale, sending a stream of warm air across your taut nipple. You whimper at the cool sensation of merging heat and wet; and a soft moan escapes my lips in reaction to your response. I smile softly; and the knowledge that I am bringing you pleasure, acts as an impetus, urging me to anoint your other beckoning nipple with the same attention. You arch your back, plunging your breast deeper into the warmth of my mouth. I welcome it, like a ravenous tigress welcomes fresh prey; and continue my feast as my hand makes its way down -- pushing at the waistband of your trousers.

Your hips begin to stir, seeking increased contact with my saturated center, and your lungs once again emit a guttural moan; urging me to remove the rest of your garments. The force of your desire becomes increasingly evident to me as my hand brushes against you in my effort to accomplish this task. Garments removed, once again, I cover your body with my own, as I return to your waiting lips; kissing you deeply, then pulling away; teasing you. Jade eyes, glazed over with rampant desire, gaze at me; silently pleading with me for release. I know what you need; but I want to hear you say it. "What, Baby?" I whisper. "What do you need? Tell me?"

"I need … to feel you inside me," you utter; your voice a wavering breath. "Please …"

The energy discharged by the force of your need threatens to detonate in my own body; and the only way to assuage my own need, is to satisfy yours.

Your wish is my command, and with astute determination, I lock dark eyes on intensifying jade, as I slip my hand between us; finding you. My fingers are strong and determined, and I feel you throbbing against them as they explore you; basking in the sundry textures of your innermost sanctuary, as they stealthily move through the soft heat that encases them.

My thumb discovers the quivering parcel of nerves that hides under its hood at the pinnacle of your wondrous knoll; and I gently massage you there, with feathery pressure; your slick wetness serving as fiery friction as I move against you. You moan softly and your breathing becomes more rapid, as my thumb continues to pleasure you in slow circles, and my fingers ease in and out of you, matching the machinations of my thumb in a slow, steady, almost torturous rhythm.

You begin to move your hips against my hand; increasing the speed and pressure, as I continue to thrust inside you; using my jean-clad thigh as leverage to ensure my thrusts reach deep within.

I feel you nearing the edge, as repeatedly, the walls of your innermost sanctuary alternately seize, then release, my thrusting fingers. But I haven't experienced my real pleasure yet; neither, have you experienced yours; so I kiss you deeply, before dragging the wetness of my mouth up the line of your jaw; pausing to gently bite at your pounding pulse point, before finding my way to your ear. "I need to taste you when you cum," I whisper; and the fire in my breath bounces from your ear, gliding across my chin and down my neck; causing goose bumps to emerge across the surface of my skin.

"Oh, God, Natalia! Yes! Please …" you beg; knowing the visceral pleasures that await you when the heat of my mouth, the powerful smoothness of my tongue, meets the center of your aching need. And the anticipation in your voice, coupled with the faint remembrance of your taste on my lips, causes the muscles in my abdomen to constrict. I cannot wait to taste you.

But I take pleasure in loving you.

Slowly.

Gently, I extract my fingers from the warm recesses of your body; and you whimper softly at the loss. I understand your grief; I feel it too. But I need my hands, if I am to love you properly along the pathway to my treasure.

I touch those fingers to your lips, as I search your eyes, willing you to decipher my reasoning. Your tongue slips out, lightly brushing against my fingers, and a faint moan escapes your lungs, as you taste the indisputable evidence of your need for me.

Lips replace fingers, and I kiss you slowly; the faintest trace of your desire making its way to my tongue. The lingering taste drives me onward, toward my ultimate goal.

I know this body of yours well now, and so my journey begins, as I take my time, savoring every inch of you …

Down the slope of your graceful neck …

Across the ledge of your collarbone …

Down the path that carries me to the delicate swell of your breasts …

Along the expanse of soft skin that covers your taut abdomen; where I pause, as I feel your muscles flexing in response to my subtle touch.

Your response is familiar. I touch you. You want me. It's been that way since long before our first kiss; and I doubt that will ever change.

Across the defined curve of your hip bone …

I revel in every whimper and soft moan that is elicited by my nipping, kissing and tonguing; and every ripple and flex of your muscles under the gentle touch of my fingers that follow in their wake, as I move toward my treasure.

You moan softly, urging me to continue my journey; the one that is leading me to the downy softness that blankets your most intimate places.

"Bend you knees for me, Baby," I quietly instruct; sliding my hands down the smooth softness of your legs. And a slow satisfied smile spreads across my face as I contemplate the delicacy that awaits me. The taste of you is sweeter than Any aphrodisiac.

You comply and I begin my slow ascent up your smooth, toned thighs. Dragging my mouth across your soft skin, I drop open-mouthed kisses and light caresses of my tongue and fingers along the way. And as I approach my destination, the sweet, heady scent of your arousal saturates my senses, causing my mouth to water in anticipation, as the taut cords of my own arousal somehow constrict even more; straining, like overly tightened strings on a guitar, threatening to pop.

A low growl escapes my lungs.

Ignoring my own smoldering need, my hands firmly seize your hips, holding you steady as I dip my tongue inside your wet, waiting warmth. I've visited here, so many times now, I can no longer count; yet, still, each journey is celebrated; each visit revered.

The taste of you is salty-sweet, with the slightest hint of citrus; and something else I can never quite identify. Perhaps it's the taste of all that cheesecake you insist upon eating for breakfast. I giggle softly against your pulsing bundle, sending a gentle hum rippling through your delicate folds; causing you to jerk your hips forward as you cry out in pleasure.

The taste of you, the intensity of your response, sends a tidal wave of desire coursing through my veins, and a trace of my own wetness tricks down my inner thigh. It's good; and it spurs me on.

My tongue darts out -- expertly hitting its mark. You whimper softly; shifting your hips to increase the contact with my tongue, and I take my cue -- Pulling your straining bundle of nerve endings into my hot orifice, your lips reward me with a deep, throaty grunt; your hands weaving into my hair; gripping me, and holding me there.

I can feel your heart beating against the warmth of my mouth, as I pleasure you with a slow, rhythmic motion; lightly sucking and brushing my tongue against your quivering need, as you whimper and moan; your breathing becoming more rapid and shallow.

Just listening to your breathing does such amazing things within my own body -- I can't hold back any more. Those strong, determined fingers effortlessly re-enter your most sacred of places; swiftly reclaiming you. You cry out in appreciation, thrusting your hips forward, as I rapidly find a rhythm that matches the sucking motion of my mouth. And the collective sounds of my fingers thrusting inside you and my mouth pleasuring you, rush in my ears; sending me closer to the edge.

I intensify my assault on your eager body by increasing the intensity of my mouth against your quivering bundle, as I curl my fingers in a come-hither motion, expertly tapping against that sacred spot; the one I know will catapult you over the edge, and into sated bliss. One more tap, issued in communion with one more suck, and your walls clamp down on my thrusting fingers, as you explode into my mouth; your body quaking forcefully, as you cry out, invoking God -- and praising me.

And I am instantaneously transported, heart, mind, body and soul, into another realm; one whereour hearts are united in the most intense of connections, as our bodies collide in spiritual union, and we celebrate the blessing of this exceptional love we share. My own release follows in tandem with yours; brought on by the immense pleasure I receive in knowing I gave this to you ... you came for me, because you trust me enough to give yourself to me without reservation. I cannot believe you gave the amazing gift of yourself to me.

My release ripples through my body like sharp waves of electric shock; stinging and biting as it hits; and leaving every inch of me tingling in its wake.

As your tremors slow, so do the workings of my fingers and mouth; and I gently coax your body, encouraging you to ride out the waves until they finally reach the shore.

When the waves finally subside, I gently slip my fingers from the warmth of your embrace. You whimper again at the loss, as your hands finally release their hold on my hair.

I press my cheek against the heat of your downy soft knoll, and murmur against you; my declarations of love streaming forth in incoherent Spanish; and you gently caress my head, letting me know that you hear my heart, despite the absence of translation.

Our breathing gradually returns to normal, and I kiss my way back up your momentarily-sated body, finding your lips again. "I love you, Olivia," I breathe; kissing you slowly, allowing you to taste yourself on my lips and tongue.

My kiss elicits a deep moan; and I know that if I allowed it, we would effortlessly drift back into lovemaking. But right now, my greatest need is just to hold you; to savor the closeness of you; memorize every nuance of your body, as it molds perfectly with mine, so that I may summon the memory of you as I lay in our bed at night while you are gone. God I'm going to miss you.

"Not half as much as I love you, Natalia ..." Your voice a husky whisper against my lips as I kiss you; and your quiet declaration saturates me, heart and soul.

A single tear trickles down my cheek, and I pull you against me, your satiated body draped across mine, your head cradled against my breast, as we lay there on our living room floor, completely spent.

And as we lay there together, my fingers tunneling through your soft chestnut locks, I feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest, as you breathe against me. I feel the corner of your mouth against my breast, as it curls into a soft smile.

"What?" I quietly ask; a burgeoning smile playing on my lips.

And then I feel your soft smile, as it turns into that satisfied grin I know so well; and I brace myself for your impending wit. "You're still wearing your jeans …"

"I know …" I exhale; that burgeoning smile tiptoeing across my lips, as awareness of exactly how wet my jeans are, returns to me.

"We should do laundry …" you suggest; and knowing how much you detest the mundane chore, I am left to wonder just exactly what's gotten into you.

"It may take a while to peel them off …"

You tilt your head to meet my eyes. "I'm game!" you announce; that devilish grin plastered across your face.

I pin you with a look; and without a word, you know exactly what I'm saying.

"What?!" you exclaim; feigning offense, as the jade of your eyes dances with mischief. "I've heard amazing things about that spin cycle …"

Oh, Lord, Not the washing machine.

I laugh; but the force of my laughter is bent by the knowledge that you are far from joking. Woman, You are going to be the death of me.

"Welcome home, Baby," I whisper; tenderly kissing the top of your head, in hopes that I might deter your current line of thinking.

Your lungs release a contented sigh, and you rest your head against my breast again. "If this is my greeting after a day at work … I cannot even imagine how you will greet me when I return from San Francisco …"

Mission accomplished. Your reply gives me hope that I have been successful in deterring you; and I press forward with my plan. "I can assure you, Baby … That … will be a greeting you will never forget …" I whisper to you.

I feel your lips against my breast again, as they curl into a contented smile; and I relax, holding you against my body.

"Now … what about that laundry?"

And I groan in response; knowing that our washing machine is destined for a workout, the likes of which it has never seen before … But for now, I hold you close; lost in the rhythmic cadence of your heart as it beats against me …

You, Olivia Spencer, are, at once, both blissful heaven, and torturous hell … I can no longer remember a time when I did not love you … I can no longer fathom a moment where your body is not perfectly molded to mine …

You are the Love of my Life … My Everything …

Oh … How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight. For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of every day's most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love with a passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints. -- I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life! -- And, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death …

Regards –

Kimberly