Were We Alone Together . . .

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I suppose there are worse things to think about.

Were we alone together, what would we do first? I suppose it would depend on the time of day, our moods, our state of mind. I’ll stick with one state of mind for now as that is from where this story evolves. That will of course be told with a mood, a feeling, of such passion as yet fulfilled but often dreamed. The time of day however, well let’s begins with morning, when most days begin.

The sun is not quite up and we are alone. I wake up to your toes, cold with the night’s chill, brushing my calf. Looking over, I am amazed. I had no idea it was possible for Angelic beauty to rustle a blanket next to be. Your hair, silken and Spanish black, is draped over the pillow, your scrunchii fell out as you tossed during dreams. Your skin appears soft as it glistens in the few rays of sun beginning to force their way into the window. Your right arm lays across your stomach, on top of the blanket, which leaves your left leg bare, exposed to the light, the air, my eyes. You slept last night in a satin shorts and spaghetti strap pajama set. Those straps now cling to your shoulders, ready to fall . . .

The left strap just slipped off your shoulder. The weight of your breast presents a small curvature at the side of your pajama top. The, ever so, slight pull of the satin against your nipple has given it rise from underneath. Your swollen nipple is barely visible at just the rim of the blanket. Your eyes flutter under your lids. What are you seeing, dreaming, right now?

I slide my arm under the blanket and across your warm stomach. I let my hand curve around to the small of your back; this brings me close to you. I, in shorts only, feel my skin ripple an exotic chill as my chest and nipples now brush the same satin that has excited yours. A small kiss; another; you respond with relaxed lips opening just enough to kiss me back. Your eyes open, “I was just dreaming about you.”

I begin to move over a bit and allow you some more room. “No,” you say, “I don’t want you to move. Pull the covers over us and stay close.”

You reach down my body, running your nails along my back in a way that raises every hair with excitement and anticipation. I begin to kiss your neck, your cleavage, your earlobe, cheek, lips, all the while supporting myself on my hands and elbows. Your hand finds my penis and grips it, firm, and you exhale; I inhale. With your other hand, you pull back the waistband of my shorts to my thighs; that is as far as you can reach without me getting up myself. That hand then pulls aside your shorts and slowly glides a single finger down the already swollen first folds of your vagina. That single finger goes inside of you and your grip on my penis grows firmer.

Raising your hand up my torso, you run your finger along my neck, onto my lips and across my awaiting tongue. “Told you I was dreaming about you. I’ve been wet all night.”

You pull my waist to yours from the grip you have on me and guide me into you. We both take a breath in and hold for just a few seconds. Your hands move to my hips, around to my buttocks and you squeeze, pushing me deeper into you. “I want all of you inside of me.”

I push in until our pelvic bones meet. I withdraw all but the head and go inside again. Our teeth bite at each other’s lips, our nipples pet each other through satin, your legs wrap around mine and your breath begins to quicken. My breathing increases and sweats beads on our brows and chests. The satin sticks “Don’t stop,” you say and you pull the satin top up over your head. Your hands return to my buttocks and lower back and our chests slip together with the morning rhythm. In and back out, in and back out, with each glide of our bodies, our breath gets tighter and our embrace more strong.

You pull me into you, “Stop. Hold me here.”

My penis is throbbing with the rhythm established and will not stop while buried deep within you. “There, yes, yes,” you whisper and all that escapes my mouth is warm breath at the nape of your neck.

I fill you. My essence erupts within you igniting your climax. You pull me close, tight. Your hands güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri clinch, your nails scrape at my skin. The breath we have each held these last four seconds releases as if it had been held four minutes. The sound of our mutual orgasm, our voices blurred with an ecstatic release of guttural moans and ecstasy. Our bodies together, chests heaving, our eyes meet and we kiss, deep and passionate. Our tongues hold one another as our bodies hold each other now.

Quite a morning we had, alone together. Hope we weren’t late for work. Were we alone together at work, I suppose the scenario would come about much differently.

“Can you help me with this copier, please?” My request barely finishes its trajectory across my lips when your hand gently rests on the top of my spine. Your hand tells me you are there and yes you can help me but your touch tells me that you burn as deeply as I. Your desires, daydreams, have been ignored all morning; mine too. We do have to get this work done. We do have responsibilities, right?

“Thanks for your help. Hey what are you doing for lunch?” That is all I can muster. Do I dare say, here at work, that I want you?

“Nothing, did you bring your lunch?”

“Yea, if you’re not swamped with work, you want to come by?”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

I’m a cad but I watch you walk away. You figure floats, your hair falls over your shoulders, across your right eye. You toss your head aside, shifting your hair out of your face without lifting a finger. I go back to work and wait for lunch.

You enter and smile, “Is the door locked? I don’t want anyone rushing in thinking were up to no good.”

“Yes, it is.”

We stand and face one another. A gentleman would offer you a seat. I lean in to kiss the lips I taste long after you leave for home. Our arms wrap, embrace, and our lips and tongues follow suit. Your breasts swell and stiffen with want of being held, licked. They push into me, begging to be released against my bare chest that our skin, our hearts and our passion can beat closer together. We do have to get back to work soon.

I lift you onto a table without releasing our mouths. My hands move to your breast to caress and give them a bit of what they have asked me for. I bend to my knees and kiss through your blouse and skirt down to your bare knee. Just inside your knee, actually, where the soft skin of your inner thigh begins.

My hands slip up each thigh and push your skirt up as they go. Your fingers run themselves through my hair and my lips and tongue explore your inner thigh, rising, closer. I find your underwear and pull it down. You wriggle back and forth as you sit allowing me to move it around your buttocks and hips. It gets to your thighs and easily slides off the rest of the way down your legs. My hands return to your thighs and my mouth has never left. I kiss, lick, and taste slowly forward and the skin only gets softer, the smell more intoxicating and my need to please you unfathomable.

The gentlest touch with the tip of my tongue. I feel the sheer skin of this morning’s trimming shave. I lick a touch more and your skin ripples with the graze of my tongue over your labia. My tongue glides down your top folds and you instinctively open to me. I trace each unfurling pedal of your delicate flower. I start at the top and move around each edge toward the center. Your nectar tastes warm and smooth as it encircles my tongue and glides down my throat. I push deeper inside of you, you hold my head next to you and suppress an outward gasp. Backing out just a bit, I take your clitoris into my mouth. I roll it around, between my teeth, gently nibbling, over my tongue and allowing it back to the front of my lips. My tongue begins to press the clitoris, to move it around and back sending small shock waves through your body. You press my face into you; my tongue presses harder, moves quicker. You shudder. You release. I drink.

Your passion satiated for the moment, we wash and return to work with no one the wiser to our secret lunch.

As I said before, exactly how we spend our time güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri alone together may depend on the time of day, our moods, our state of mind or some combination of the three. How do we often feel when we end our days? We are tired, work, kids, life in general is a constant fight. A struggle to keep your head above water, so to speak, and make ends meet. Feed the kids, pay the bills, make sure essentials are taken care of. What about the self? Don’t we owe it to ourselves to treat ourselves, our souls, like the beautiful people God made us to be? Isn’t it fair to say that having met everyone’s, and everything’s, needs, we deserve to meet our own needs? Our primal, physical, emotional and spiritual needs beckon within us every minute of every day and it is not very often that we get to honor them.

This brings me to the end of our day alone. The night is dark and cool. The new moon makes the stars appear to leap from the sky in their splendor. The ethereal wonder that is the universe surrounds and envelopes us, yet we are tired. We are stressed from a day of life tugging at us from every direction. A look. A look to one another and that burn that warms us from inside, that yearns to feel the other’s fire rises in its heat and purpose and brings a smile to our faces.

“Let’s go to bed.” You stand to retire and take my hand to lead me. Standing, however, I stop you. You turn to face me.

“I love the way your hand feels in mine.” My words seem to hang on the air as a whelp of nerves and expectancy swells in my stomach. “Your hair falls from you in a cascade of silk. Your shoulders carry you straight, proud and curve to create the alluring line to your breasts.” I begin to take your belt away from your skirt. Your blouse, already un-tucked, opens easily with small tugs from my fingers. As I let fall your blouse from about your shoulders, I kiss them.

“Let me look at you.”

Your skin, tanned by heritage, made darker, Mediterranean by the sun, is smooth and warm upon my lips. My hands slip down your arms to your hands, I hold them and my mouth moves the straps of your bra to the edges of your shoulders. I raise my hands to unhook your bra from your cleavage and you keep your hands resting on the back of mine. They follow my own hands as I circle each breast with my palms uncovering them from the day’s sheath. My hands make circles from the middle of your chest up to the top of your breasts, around to their outsides ending at the areola and nipple. I cup your breasts as your hands squeeze mine.

My fingers part and follow the line from your cleavage to you neck. Your hands slip down my arms and pause at my waist, thumbs resting on my belt. At your neck, my hands follow that same line up and around to the back of your neck and head. With your head cupped in both palms of both hands, I raise your mouth to meet mine once more. Gently, soft, closed and full, our whole lips together. Inhale as we meet; exhale and our lips part, our foreheads rest on one another.

“I want you.”

“Not yet,” and I raise my head to look at your dark eyes, your flush cheeks and your lips bitten slightly between your teeth. I look at your neck, your shoulders and the line your arms make as they bow to your sides. Your breasts rise and fall with each breath you take and your breaths are increasing in their fervor. Your stomach is showing the energy that is spinning inside as your desire only mounts with each rise and each fall as your breathing rapidly escalates.

I unhook and unzip your skirt. It opens as the zipper lowers itself and I guide it down your legs pausing to kiss the beautiful skin just below your belly button; where your pelvis meets your thigh; the hair trying to push its way through your panties; the inside of your thigh; the inside of your thigh again; the inside of the other thigh; your knee; your calves; the tops of your feet; the arches of your feet and I end on your toes; lightly nibbling the tip of your big toe.

I stand slowly, my fingers tracing the route up on the back of your leg. A small kiss on your lips and your eyes close, I pick güvenilir bahis şirketleri you up to carry you to the bedroom. Laying you on the bed, I kiss you again and pull my shirt off. I un-belt myself and open my jeans to pull them down. You reach for me and I interrupt.


I raise your hand above your head and rest it on a pillow. I return to pulling off my jeans and stop. Rather, the beauty that lay before me stops me. Your supple skin, legs curved just so, their calves strong, like dancer’s calves, sleek, smooth. Your thighs are flushed with the heat of your essence slowly burning, yearning. Your stomach and torso are both heaving with your quickened breath. Your breasts are firm and your nipples raised, areolas swollen. Your eyes dance with passion and expectation.

I stand before you, now, naked myself. My blood feels hot while it races through my body to raise my penis. My erection hard, my breath quick, my anticipation high, I breath deep and slow so as not to rush any moment we have alone.

I begin at your left big toe. I begin tracing my fingers lightly along your toes and foot. Circling around then up the palm of your foot to your ankle. Gently I linger my fingertips up your calf to the back of your knee. I begin again, this time at your right big toe and encircle your foot to your ankle. Brush your calf with my finger and reach the back of that knee. My hands push my fingers up your thighs. First on the inside, all the way to your pelvic bone, holding a few seconds and moving around your thighs to the outsides and pulling my fingers back down. This is done very slowly and repeated three times. Your legs open wider with each reach of my hands. Your vagina begins to swell open and beg me to taste you, take you, enter you and love you.

My chest rests on your thighs, my hands are molding the sides of your torso and my mouth kisses your pelvis. While I set kisses to linger around your waist, my hands are touching your stomach, up the side of your torso along your ribs and back around and down over your breasts. I raise my head and watch your eyes as my palm graze over your nipples and I take each one between my thumb and forefinger. Your eyes roll slightly back and close, your mouth opens and your hands take me from the back of my head, fingers sewn through my hair. My body slips up your a bit more and my hands take their caress to your shoulders. They press somewhat as they travel down the side of your arm, finger tips pulling all the tension left in your body down through your triceps, my thumb is pulling along your biceps. I trace the rest of the way down your forearm and take each finger individually, pulling the tension out of your body.

On top of you, our faces together, our chests together, our heartbeats together, my penis at the entrance to your vagina.

“Now?” you ask.

“Will you please take me inside you?”

With my answer you slide your body down to take me in. Our arms now wrap around each other, our mouths and tongues breath life to the other’s soul and you take me inside of you slow, sure, hot. Deeper I penetrate and our pelvic bones meet. Your legs curl around my waist, your heels locking inside my thighs. You push, I push and a moan begins in you as you climax. Your mouth releases from mine as you exhale and gasp, the peak taking your heart rate up and your finger nails down into the small of my back.

As that orgasm subsides, we increase our rhythm to bring about another. Rocking back and forth on top and under each other. We roll over and you put me onto my back. You sit up and back taking me even deeper into you. This pauses our movement just slightly before slowly beginning to move against each other. You are gliding along my pelvis, I am deep within you, and your hands are on my chest. My left hand is on your right hip while my right hand squeezes your left breast. Breathing is heavy and our breaths are audible with each exhale. Harder you press against me, deeper I press into you and both our voices growing horse with sound as we feel each other, kneed each other, breathe and move each other to a mutual climax. I fill you and you fold onto my chest. Sweat covers our bodies. Your head lays on my shoulder, your kiss my chest, I brush the hair from your face and kiss you softly on your forehead. We breathe, heavy then slowing, intoxicated with ecstasy and hold ourselves together as we lay entwined.

Were we alone together . . .

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