Something brushes my thigh. The bed gives way and I fall. Breathless and scraping for…
I catch myself. Part of me springs up, snapping back into place.
Goddammit! I hate that shit!
I'm not exactly sure what part it is that lets go, but for a moment my insides feel like a dangling Slinky.
B. slides between my legs, resting her head on my left inner thigh. My stomach's still figuring out where it wants to be when she whispers, "Sorry." Her breath tickles.
A shiver starts at my lower back and works its way up. When it fades, I'm not sure what she said. Umm…
Was I just, uh…?
I was stressed about something, wasn't I?
I even don't remember moving, but I obviously did. Or maybe she moved me?
No clue.
My right leg's bent, leaning propped up on her hip. Her breasts are crushed against my thigh. If I have to worry about something, I'd rather it be—
She steals my hand when I lift it. Hey, I was, uh…
I try, but she's not giving it back. Alright, that's cool. It's probably for the best. My fingers are—
I'm not sure whether it's a feature or a flaw that my arm's just the right length and bent in all the right places for them to end up…
A few minutes ago, I would've probably thought 'flaw,' but…as she passes my fingertips over her lips, tasting them with her tongue, my opinion changes. I couldn't have been more wrong.
Good thing I'm used to that.
I remember being curious about the time, but I didn't have the energy to look. Really, I didn't care that much.
That wasn't that long ago either. Or I don't think it was. What with the falling, I can't be sure.
Now I care, just not about that. It's nighttime. That's close enou—
Her teeth scrape the tip of my middle finger. I feel it all the way down. My toes actually curl. It's another one of those things. I think I'm just defective.
I should move while I still can. I suck it up and open my eyes. Nice night. It's not half as dark as I thought. Framed by the skylight, stars twinkle overhead. The hand she holds hostage slips free when I haul my sorry, lazy, worthless…
I lean in. As I help to lift her, she asks, "Is this okay?"
It's more than okay. I try to say so, but stammer, "Umm…" instead. Half asleep and horny as hell, I make George Bush look like he didn't just buy that diploma from Yale.
Her lips crush against mine when I give up and nod. I may be in trouble.
She massages my back as we kiss, if it's fair to call this that. Our tongues spar, looking for an advantage, one pushing the other out. The tilt of her head randomly changes. I match, mirror, shadow…more like just scramble to keep up. Her hands move rhythmically with our heads, our tongues, us…one side up and the other down. It's dizzying.
Intense.
Overwhelming.
I wind her hair around my hand. Her nails bite into my shoulder and side when I pull away.
There was something I wanted and I'm going to take it. Otherwise…getting rolled up, even by her, even like this, just doesn't sit well with me.
Warm and tingly, my lips throb as I kiss her cheek. She breathes a series of soft sighs, gasping when I reach her ear.
That's probably got nothing to do with this. I mean, yeah…I'm sure that the nibbling's nice and all. Her earrings click against my teeth. I like them. They feel hard and bumpy between my lips. It goes nice with the tingle.
The problem's my right hand. It's developed a mind of its own. I don't notice where it's wandered off to until she gasps. Her nipple pops from between my slippery fingers. I circle the tip, smearing the moisture around. She seems to like it, so…
Umm…
I'm sure my hand'll find all kinds of no good to keep it entertained. Damned thing usually does. Moving on…
Moving down. Her ear's so tender. This isn't. Less nibbling, I follow the path set by my delinquent hand.
It amazes me how much stuff changes. I've always been a real meat-and-potatoes kind of gal.
This isn't that.
Or I guess it can be, but not exactly. Not really.
It's more like filling up on appetizers. Each taste is different. Different textures. Different smells.
I never would've gone there without her. And now that I have, I can't picture anything…
I need her.
As much as I can't imagine not doing this, I can't image doing this with anyone else, so…
I'd be lost without her.
She says my name through a groan. The sound sends a chill down my spine, calling me back.
Lost.
I focus on that muscle, the one that bridges her neck and shoulder. What I'm doing to it isn't very nice. No wonder she…
I stop.
She frets as I nuzzle her nipple, dragging my lips over the hard little knot, letting it slip between them…
My index finger dips into her belly button. I give my hand a nudge so it doesn't stick around to play. That's just annoying.
Drawing her nipple into my mouth, I suckle and flick, then let go. She trembles when I exhale. Tasting even a hint of myself on her skin is…
My right hand reaches its goal. So soft, like the petals of a flower.
That's exactly it too. She's just like a flower. I can even picture the one I mean, but damned if I know its name. It looks sort of like a curled up sheet of paper.
And that's probably the tiredest simile ever. Even I've heard it and I don't—
I don't know. That part's not supposed to be pretty, is it? I never expected to think that. Not about anyone. But somehow B…
Still kind of mindlessly teasing her nipple with my lips and tongue, I part her folds, fondling…
Skin smooth as warm butter flows beneath my fingertips…
Supple?
Supple works. And slippery…
And warm. And…
And…
And…
And distracting…severely distracting…
It still blows me away. Every inch of her is just…
We're both somewhere between here and gone. Her body's so rigid, she shivers with the stress. I move up to find—
She draws in a desperate sounding breath. It's amazing that something so small can—
Her hand touches mine. She's shaking like a leaf, but the contact helps. She pushes, directing me back…
Guess she thinks I've screwed around enough. I take the hint and she takes over, cupping my cheek, guiding me to face her. My fingers push inside her as she kisses me. What starts with a few frantic pecks becomes—
I think this is the sort of thing people write sappy poetry about. I lose track as it grows, falling into…
Every move she makes sends a ripple through me. Pressure builds, white static at the base of my skull, radiating out, warm and blurry…
She draws in breathy little sighs between, umm…
My hand's lost too. Leave it alone for a moment and…
Figures it fell into a rut. My fingers move back and forth rather than in and out, in sort of a subtle 'come hither' gesture, but with three instead of one. As my hand closes, I swirl my fingertips. This is something I do to myself. It's soothing, but not—
The goal's not—
It's not what she wants.
Her hands move to my hips when I slide down. She steadies me and nothing changes. My fingertips turn the same tight circle as I focus on her stomach. I'm impatient, but I—
I take my time, tasting the salt on her skin, feeling her warmth against my lips, just enjoying…
Lingering.
I hold my leg out, swinging it wide to miss her hair before I plant my knee. She guides me to where I want to be, but I hold back. I kind of took over. It's her turn. My eyes drift shut as she threads her arm between my legs. I concentrate on my hand, just feeling her.
Just feeling her is pretty amazing. I could get lost.
I did get lost.
As she eases herself down, I compensate, moving with her, then she kisses me. It's exactly like that too.
And I'm pretty sure that's stupid. What else would she do?
But this just isn't what I expect. She takes a single lip between hers and tastes it. She doesn't bother trying to cover her teeth. And that makes it that much…
It's painful, but not. I ache, wanting more, but more than that, I want her. Just breathing in her scent makes me—
My mouth waters. I open my eyes and my breath catches in my throat.
Cool light creates sharp contrasts, highlighting the golden tufts of her pubes. Below them there's a dimple with a fine pleat of skin centered inside. What I want hides behind that perfect piece of creamy flesh.
Perfect.
I swallow.
It calls to me as her lips find another fold. She's so tender, but I'm so tender…this is gonna send me up—
Her tongue slides down fast, swirling. Pushing everything out of the way, she clamps down, singling out one spot. Somehow she finds…
My brain turns to mush. I slump against her. In the time it takes to blink, she reduces me to twitching, trembling, breathless heap. I hold on. Or try. I'm not even sure—
She's pinched the whole wedge of flesh between her lips. Her tongue presses down. She swirls it again. And just when every nerve ending in my body tries to escape, she lets go. Her tongue pushes inside me. She could back up and I…
I can think straight and I'd really rather not. This is just…
I don't know. Not. I mean…it's not like I hate it. I just can't see anyone wanting that much of—
I'm no flower.