It starts with the briefest touch. A finger grazing her newly cut hair or across her covered shoulders. And she always waits and waits for the next without reciprocating.
Somehow their fingers interlace and they're falling back and her cheek is pressed against his chest with the faint vibrations of his heart humming her skin. And she curls into the warmth of his skin seeping through the fibers of the clothing she's worn. His cheek rubs against her hair and their eyes are staring ahead to the movie playing out but half their minds, hearts, lungs, are held to the explosion waiting to happen with the chemistry wrapping around them.
His fingers search over cloth for her bra clasps and she is dashing away.
"You can't take a girl's bra off without at least kissing her first!" She chides and goes back to her curl in his arms against him, waiting for the next maneuver like a seasoned player.
They get lost in the scenes of the movie before their eyes meet coincidentally and his fingers cup her head, stands of hair spilling, and he kisses her. And she is pulled into the abyss of feeling. Their mouths and tongue dances, and she sucks on his lips. And the explosion building has already started to out pour. Clothes slip away without thought and his lips travel south and she's slipping her fingers into his growing hair.
They demand more and more from each other with fingers and lips and tongue and teeth. Inhaling deep breaths of each others scents leads to tighter grips. He moves more and more south and she's trying keep her eyes open to his assault. She wants to scream and scream because it has been so long and it hurts and feels so good, and screaming feels like a good outlet. But she sucks her lips in, holding it tight inside of herself.
And she loves to reciprocate, but for him and only him because in this, she knows he cares for her. And when he is close, she climbs up and they sink together. But it hurts and hurts and he holds her, soothes her. And she basks in the warmth of his skin against hers and enjoys the sense of feeling light in her mind and heart. But still, she goes back because she remembers the pleasure and seeks it again. And his arms are secure bands around her and their chests are pressed together and she can hear their heart beats in rhythm.
He sits up and presses his ear to her chest as they rock. And their worlds rotate and her sky is him and his earth is her. And they meet so that space between the sky and earth is null and explosive. He is gentle with her, eyes open and locked with hers and her fingers dig into the muscles he's built in their absence from each other. It burns and burns, not enough to cry but enough to not forget, but she holds on to the soft music he plays in her ears and it is the only thing that keeps her hips going because other than demanding the elusive pleasure for herself, she wants to give it to him too.
Any burst of pain that bought gasps to her lips or a wiggle of her hips to get away lead to him blanketing her with himself. She smiles because he knows just what to do. He whispers to her. The heat relaxes her and the security in his strong muscles makes her feel like their bodies at this age will be timeless, forever, and the eventual decay out of reach.
When it's done, they go back to being curled against each other, his fingers in her hair again and her cheek pressed to listen to his heart. He chuckles when her feet grazes his but they instantly draw back because they are cold. His fingers massage her scalp and she thinks that boneless pleasure can be achieved here too.