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The Touch

"She trusted him and his touch"

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She noticed the warmth of the room as he kissed her bare shoulder.  The goose flesh that appeared on her naked skin was not due to coldness.  The bumps were the result of her want, desire, and lust that attempted to escape its epidural confines. 

“He has done everything for my comfort,”  she thinks as she presses her hand to the side of his face.  

She wanted more kisses.  

She wanted more teasing bites.

She wanted his lips sucking and pulling at her flesh.

She wanted him.

The room was quiet.  No sounds other than his deep and steady breathing, her shallow gasps, the small “pop” sound his lips made as he pulled away from her skin, and the guttural moans of satisfaction they made as they became lost in pleasure.

Her breathing accelerated slightly as he led her to the bed.  

She wanted him.  

She needed him

The wetness she felt trail down her inner thigh was proof that she was ready for him to take whatever he wanted from her.  She felt a slight adrenaline surge when she realized she was willing to give him more of herself than he would even ask.  Once her head rested on the bed, he reached up and gently touched her eyelids.  She obediently closed them as a new wave of bumps surfed across her skin.

They had played with blindfolds, ropes, clamps, and toys before tonight.  A little kink was always fun.  A little bondage, a few spankings, or keeping the orgasm out of reach for a little bit longer were enjoyable games they played.

But, this was new.  This was trust, total trust.

He was trusting her to keep her eyes closed.

He was trusting her to accept his admiration.

He was trusting her to feel his desire for her.

She laid on the bed, naked, excited, wet, wanting, needing, desiring, and trusting.

The touch began on the side of her face.

A gentle stroke down her jawline.  

Was he using his finger?  

A feather?  

His breath?

She could not determine the sensation, other than it was a light caress that felt like a suffocating weight of desire on her soul.  She trembled as her body reacted.  Her sex was wet and flowing.  She knew it excited him when she became this wet.  She knew his animalistic desire could erupt at any time then he would take her.  

She waited.

She eagerly waited for that animal.  Yet, it remained caged.

He was in total control, she was blissfully the prey, teasingly walking back and forth in front of his confines.

His touch remained gentle and slow.  It was as if he tasted her flesh through his finger.  Savoring each stroke as it glanced over her lips, down her nose, tracing her ear, and across her neck.

Her back involuntarily arched as he traced the outside of each breast.  She wanted to feel the firm grip of his strong hands cupping her exposed mounds.  She wanted to feel the pinch and pull as each nipple was compressed and stretched between his finger and thumb.

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The lightness of his touch did not waver.

She knew her nipples were firm and hard.  She knew her areolas were puckered and waiting to be sucked into his hot and wet lips.

But, he was in total control.

His finger followed every curve of her body.  She had no feelings of shame or self-consciousness with him.  He had told her repeatedly that he loved and wanted her body.  Every curve, every scar, and every part.  She believed him and she gave him what he wanted.  She gave herself.

She knew he was teasing her when his finger slowly glid down her tummy, circled her belly button, ran along the top of her pubic hair, then down the top of her leg.  

Her slight pelvic thrusts were more than hinting that she was ready for his finger to explore her wetness.  He knew how to read her slightest body movements and give her what she wanted without a word leaving her lips.  There were times she did not realize she wanted what he offered until the orgasm surprisingly surfaced and threw her into a world of erotic bliss.

When he ran his finger down the top of her leg and across the top of her foot, she knew he was teasing.

She opened her legs for him as her attempt to lure him into giving her more than a touch.

He was a master.

His touch traveled up her other leg and outlined her pubic hair once again.

She was trimmed and had what he lovingly called a landing strip.  Oh, how she wanted him to land on her at this time.

His finger started at the bed and he allowed it to be enveloped by her as he lifted it upwards.

The circling of her clit then rubbing it on the right side caused her to grip the bed with her hands as the orgasm shook her.  They had masturbated for each other many times.  She loved seeing how her body and movements caused him to stroke harder and faster.  She yearned for the moment when his moan was followed by the hot spray of cum erupting from him and landing on her.

She did not realize that he was studying her each time they played in front of one another.  He had studied her so that when he touched her, he knew what she liked.  He would know how to touch her so she would be pleased.  

He never disappointed.

She lifted her legs and opened them wide.  His finger slid in, curled, and reached her “yummy spot”.  He had named her g-spot the “yummy spot” because of the deluge of lust that escaped her when it was stimulated.

Her moans and cries filled the stillness of the room as he pleasured her.  His groans and moans of pleasing accompanied to form a duet of ecstasy.

Her feet rested on the bed as he withdrew his finger and positioned his body between her legs.

He leaned down and kissed her lips.

“Open your eyes love.”

She obeyed

He saw the smile form on her face as his head entered her wet lips.

She saw the animal appear in his eyes as she dug her fingers into his back.

 

Published 
Written by passionstories71
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