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I took the stairs two at a time and shoved my door open with my shoulder. The moonlight was streaming in through the window that was open giving the room just enough light that I’d be able to worship her body, but not enough that she’d be self-conscious.
When I laid her down on the bed her chest was rising and falling beneath her thin cotton T-shirt. I moved above her and when I looked down, I saw that her eyes were wide with anticipation and maybe some nerves. I knew that I’d have to take things slow.
Instead of ripping her clothes off like I wanted to, I lowered my mouth to her neck and brushed a barely-there kiss below her ear. Her arms lifted and her fingers raked through my hair, holding my head in place. I continued pressing my lips to her neck, alternating sucking, licking, and whispering dirty, sweet nothings against her skin.
When her hips began grinding against me, I moved my hand between our bodies and slid my fingers beneath the hem of her shirt. Her skin was silky smooth as I moved my hand slowly up her body as my mouth moved south. I started kissing her collarbone covered by her shirt. Then I went even lower, kissing her cotton covered chest.
My fingers grazed over her rib cage and when they reached her breast, I cupped my hand and covered my mouth over her nipple, sucking it through her shirt. She gasped as her hips bucked against my erection, straining against the denim that was covering it.
Beneath the cotton, I felt her nipple harden as I nipped it between my teeth, then I moved on to give the other nub the same attention. Back and forth I kneaded, suckled, and licked her breasts, showing them each individual attention.
It wasn’t long before she was grabbing at her shirt pulling it up. All signs of insecurity seemed to be gone. I moved so that she could remove it and took the opportunity to pull her sweats down, leaving her in only her panties, which were damp with arousal.
Seeing her lying there, almost nude, she reminded me of a painting of a Greek goddess. She was Venus or Aphrodite. The curve of her hips, the fullness of her breasts, the thickness of her thighs shattered my taking things slow plan.
I moved above her again and cupped both breasts, pressing them together so I could suck both nipples at the same time. She moaned and arched her back. I massaged her mounds as my tongue and teeth teased her pebble-hard tips.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she panted as she grinded harder against my denim-covered shaft, pulsing heavily with need.
I could feel the heat of her core through my jeans and I knew that it needed my attention.
Shifting down her body, I trailed kisses over her belly. Her hips were writhing as I hooked my fingers in the sides of her pink silk panties and tugged them down and off her legs. When they were free from her ankles her thighs fell apart and her feminine folds glistened with her juices.
My hands ran from her knees up her inner thighs pressing her legs farther apart, giving me total access to her center. When my palms reached the apex of her legs, my thumbs ran up the lips of her core, sliding her arousal along the seam of her entrance.
Her body trembled beneath my touch and I teased the swollen nub at the top of her sex. I traced around the base of her clit, which was throbbing and begging for my attention.
“Please,” she voiced the plea that her body had already communicated.
Torn between wanting to prolong her pleasure and wanting to taste her, I decided that I didn’t have to sacrifice one to get the other. I ran my knuckle along her slickness, barely pressing the tip of my finger into her tight canal. At the same time, I grazed my thumb over her pleasure button.
“Yes,” she gasped as her hands fisted in my comforter.
Seeing her response, I flicked my thumb several times over her clit before pushing my finger into her snug tunnel. As soon as my knuckle entered her body, her mouth fell open as a silent cry fell from her lips at the intrusion.
That’s when I bent down and replaced my thumb with my mouth. I licked her nub, sucking it into my mouth and tasting her sweetness as my digit was cocooned by the warmth of her inner walls contracting around it.
“Yes, yes, don’t stop, yes, please don’t stop,” she begged.
I flattened my tongue and hooked my finger and flicked the area that in some women held the elusive and secretive G-spot. I wasn’t sure that I was hitting it until she cried out as her body contracted in orgasmic bliss. Her thighs and stomach clenched as my finger was coated with her release.
I stayed with her, keeping the rhythm of both my tongue and my finger until her arms and legs relaxed and she melted into my bed. Her eyes were closed, and I took a moment to savor the taste of her sex, licking her and then kissing her once more as I pulled my finger out of her.
When I did, her body protested and clamped around me, suctioning me back in. The sensation caused my already steel hard rod to throb in pain as my balls tingled and tightened against my body. At this rate, I was going to come in my pants.
It may not have been five years for me, but it had been awhile. And for as long as I could remember, sex had been more of a maintenance thing than any real connection.
This wasn’t sex. This was more. And if I didn’t get myself under control it was about to be over before it even started.
