As I'm trying to piece together exactly how Dawn managed to get my bra off with my shirt still on, I can feel her watching me in amusement. She's watching how my breasts mold into my white sleeveless shirt, and each passing second of her hungry eyes on my breasts only make the air thick with wanting intensity.
I smile at her and say, "Now how did an innocent girl like yourself, manage to pull that off?" She smiles at me and without replying she takes her hand and places it on my breast. I gasp at the boldness and stare right into those beautiful, irresistible eyes that seem to see right through me.
I feel myself getting lost into her. I move forward, trying to get closer to that hand that's causing me to lose even more of my control. I kiss her passionately, because it's the only act that I can do right now, considering the want is almost destroying my better judgment. She's kissing me back with equal enthusiasm, and I can feel her other hand trail under my shirt. I know that she wants to feel more of me, and as of right now, I've decided that I have let her have enough control for the moment. So I break away from Dawn for the moment, and try not to be affected by the puppy dog eyes that she's using against me. She's so cute when she does that, how can I deny anything from her when she looks at me like that. I smile and chuckle when she begins to pout. She moves her hands further up my shirt, and feels around my stomach. I shiver in arousal.
She parts her lips, and asks me in a low whisper, "Don't you want me to touch you?" I'm shocked by this question. Of course I want her to touch me, why would she ask such a meaningless question. I stare hard into her eyes, and try to let her know how I feel with just the intensity of my expression. I slowly creep lower onto the bed to get closer to her, and when I'm barely an inch away from her lips, I respond to her question.
"Of course I want you to touch me, more than anything." I'm barely aware of anything else, as I feel her hot breath on my lips and her young, irresistible hands roam my body.
I feel her hands on my sides as they move upward, and stop at my shoulders then she moves them to roam my arms all the way down to my hands, which are barely supporting my weight, as I feel so weak to her touch.
"Then let me touch you," she tells me as she kisses me softly.
I respond to her with a sigh of arousal. I kiss her softly and we continue to kiss. I want to kiss her harder, to kiss her with all the passion that I feel for her, but I control what I want, since I know that Dawn wants me to kiss her slowly, to kiss as softly and gently as her favorite rose. Her favorite rose, which I make sure that I buy her every time I plan on seeing her. The look on her face and the gleam in her eyes make my heart feel like it's rising as high as the heavens. I love to make her happy, to see her smile, to see her take the rose that I buy for her and smell it in contempt as I watch in pure happiness. A red rose to symbolize my love for her, her irresistible beauty and all-knowing knowledge of how my body reacts to everything she does. When she cries, my heart cries. When she's angered, my heart turns to anger. When she's happy and smiles so wide, you'd swear that she invented it because as soon as she smiles, I smile just as wide and my heart takes flight.
When I make her happy and when I know that she's happy because of me, my body, as well as my heart, feel as if they are being pumped full of helium. I feel as if I could fly to the heavens, fly higher towards the stars, and grab her one to call it her own. All these technically ridiculous and impossible aspirations are all that I want because it's what love should feel like. Love should be as soft as a rose petal, as real as the one you hold so tight and hope to God that you'll never have a reason to let go. Love is everything that makes you believe. Love is as strong and powerful as the sound of your beloved's heartbeat when you place your head on their chest and hear their heart beat, pumping precious life into their body, one beat at a time. Love is trust, love is forgiving. It's true that love never holds a grudge. It's always willing to forgive over and over again, because that's what love is. It's forgiveness. That's why I know that what I have with Dawn is love, because even when I did all those horrible things, she forgave me anyway, and gave me a chance. She let me touch her. She forgave and forgot the evil I did. She doesn't look at me like I'm a murderer. She looks at me like I'm the reason for life. But she's wrong about that. I'm not the reason for life. It's her.
Dawn's precious touch is what brought me out of the dark into the daylight that welcomed me back, and all because of her. She forgave me, she promised to fill me with so much love that I'd never go back to being the person that I was. And that's what I love about her. She always reminds me that a person can change. A person can change only when they are willing to love. And I did. The only person that I could ever love is the person that is holding me with one hand, while the other is under my shirt feeling and caressing my nipple.
I smirk as I lick her neck and hear her squeal in shock. We giggle, and she holds me tighter while her other hand moves to my back, embracing me tighter, as if afraid that I'll leave her if she doesn't. I whisper into her ear something that makes her squeal again, and she smacks me playfully on my back as I laugh in response.
Without looking at me, she tells me, "You're such a nymphomaniac."
"Only because you turn me on so damn much," I reply as I start kissing her neck.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" she kids.
I laugh against her throat, which in turn makes her shiver. "It mean's you're a flirt."
"Oh really!" she says through fits of laughter as I begin to tickle her.
"Yeah, you're a huge flirt that's asking for it. Big time," I add, as I'm now straddling her hips and tickling her sides, resulting in loud, hysterical fits of laughter. I giggle as I watch Dawn crying because she's laughing so hard. Then I comment after I release her from her misery for the moment. "Wow, you're really ticklish. You should go get that checked out before it's too late."
It takes her a few moments to calm herself before she replies. "Yeah and what if I don't?"
I let out a few husky chuckles before I reply. "Then you will suffer the consequences."
"Oh really?" she replies as she tries to get away.
"Really," I add, as I begin to tickle her again.
Her laughter is so loud that I swear Buffy could hear us, and I imagine how long it'll take before Buffy rushes in to see if I'm killing Dawn or something.
And as I'm busy tickling Dawn, forcing loud screams and cries of laughter out of my young girlfriend, who but Buffy would run into the room so fast that I swear to God that she broke the sound barrier and she forces me off the bed. I fall off the bed with a loud thump! Buffy runs her hands all over Dawn to check for blood, I'm guessing. Once she realizes that there's no blood, she turns her attentions to me.
"I'm sorry, Faith, thought you were killing her or something," she says as she shrugs her shoulders.
I laugh as I try to control my anger, since Buffy and are trying to stay on good terms. Since I'm dating her sister, I try not to cause any fights that would result in me no longer seeing Dawn.
"That's alright, Buffy. Dawn was screaming like bloody murder," I reply as Dawn is still trying to calm herself down enough to yell at her sister.
Buffy turns around and grabs a tissue off Dawn's counter and hands it to her. "Here, Dawn, a tissue for your troubles," she says as Dawn takes the tissue from her and tries to wipe the tears of laughter away. Buffy turns her attention back to me, as I'm still sitting on the floor. "You guys were pretty loud, and I wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors heard you."
I laugh and reply, "Well, Dawn is a pretty good screamer." I didn't realize what I said until Buffy shot me a mean look.
I look back at her and struggle to explain what I meant. "Buffy, meant when it comes to laughing, she's a screamer."
Buffy still watches me closely as she replies. "Yeah, ok." Then she turns around and walks towards the door, but stops suddenly.
She turns around and shoots me one hell of an angry look as she yells, "Whose bra is this!"
I sit up and peer over Dawn's bed to see my bra on the floor lying next to an angry Buffy. Without a moment to reply, she continues.
"Faith, this better not be your bra!" She points her angry finger towards my bra and glares at me.