I want to paint her. She's accepted me, and whatever it is we have together. I love the open way she touches me. I adore the soft caresses of her hair. I can freely admit it to myself now, I love her. . . with all my heart. . . with all my being. She's my lover, my angel. She wakes something up inside of me, lights the fire I had, and thought I’d lost. My old girlfriend is terribly upset now, raging and miserable in her weakness. I know how dangerous the game I'm playing is, how terribly deadly it is for both my new love and myself. And I hate putting my lover in danger.
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But I can't keep away from her, can't stop seeing her, can't stop caressing her. Not when I'm in this deep. I know my ex would kill her if she knew, but I can't let that happen. I have to keep my love safe. And I have to hold her. So now I lay on the bed with her, softly combing her hair out in a circle around her face. With each stroke it just gets softer and softer, until it's like golden silk around my caressing fingers. I love the way it flows out in waves, brushing against her cheeks, her neck, and the way it feels to brush the satiny hair away from the smooth and beautiful skin. I think it may just be curly before she styles it out straight. She smiles now, and my finger travels down to her soft face, to caress the full, sensuous lips. " your lips are so lush. . . ripe. " I whisper in her ear, and she presses her mouth to mine, sealing my lips into a gentle kiss.
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As always, I'm captivated by her warmth, the softness of her lips, her body. She's so small, and so hot. . . her lips whisper over mine, then devour them, the small red tongue slipping into my mouth and stroking my own tongue. "Feels so good," she says, and the heat of her breath flows into my body. Her fingers twine in my hair, pulling me closer, always closer. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck, and move my lips lower, to the soft, sensitive flesh of her throat. I lick the area over the long, pulsing white vein, feeling the blood flow through her, hearing the fast, hard beat. Her skin tastes so good, salt and sweat, skin- cream and soap. Her hands travel down to my chest, and I feel the probing fingertips against my stomach, almost brushing my nipples. I can't believe how open she is to this, how utterly willing and eager. She suddenly surprises me by attacking my mouth, stunning me with the purely erotic force of her lips. Such open passion, such enjoyment of her body. .
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. and such beautiful candor. By now I'm fully aroused, and I can feel her soft thighs pressing against my hardness, rubbing against it. I want her so badly. I let my own lips meet hers with equal force, pressing her head back into the pillow.
Her hair feels so good against my fingers and the cotton of the pillow cases, everything smooth and fresh feeling. Her frenzied moans echo in my mind, my mouth, and then the scent of her own arousal hits the air. "Touch me. . . " Her breathing has become laboured under my ministrations, and I have to sneak another glance at her. Her lips are presses firmly together, eyes tightly closed. Heat floods over her, making her skin flush, and I can tell just how aroused she is, how much this turns her on. I obey her request, and slowly unbutton the silk top. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of her.
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The smooth, creamy neck shimmers in the light from her lamp, flowing down into cleft between her full breasts. they are deliciously high and firm, but so soft. Her nipples are a lovely , the little nubs a darker rose and already erect from the cool air and my former caresses. Her eyes are open now, waiting with anticipation and longing for my hands on her, to feel her, to make those thrills run trough her body. But still there is an innocence to her, a pure, angelic like beauty in her arousal. The remorse I feel at defiling this lovely creature again wells up in me, but she wants it so much, and so do I. . . tentatively, almost fearfully, I place my hands on her naked breasts. She feels so warm on my hands, so soft. . . her eyes close again, enjoying the sensations I’m giving her. I run my fingers along her aureole, seeing the pale alabaster of my skin against her own golden glow. She arches in me, seeking out more pressure, and I give it to her.
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Caressing her soft body with my mouth, gently nipping her here and there, and I move down her body, to where I know she wants me to be. Her gasps have become moaned prayers, ramblings to God while I please her. I look up at her face again, and I completely entranced by the sheer erotic beauty there; her golden eye-lashes flutter over her green eyes, which are smoky and dark. My mouth, eager for the taste of her again, coverers her pussy. My tongue explores her, wanting to know her again, before finally pushing his tongue into her, swirling it in little, ever expanding circles, simaltaniously sucking, stroking her ultra sensitive clit. Her lips are forming round Os from pleasure, trembling and shaking beautifully. Sweat beads form on her upper lip, and at the crown of her forehead, the sweat darkening her hair to a honey-in-shadows colour. My beautiful love, fully aroused and close to orgasm. Seeing how close she is to the brink, I speed up my actions, sucking harder, swirling wider. Her eyes fly open at that, looking at me in astonishment. I feel her hips begin to buck on the mattress, the rising and falling of the bed as she falls ever deeper into the abyss. Just when it seems she can't take anymore, when her beautiful face is red with frustration, I lean over and whisper in her ear, "Come for me, darlin’" Suddenly, her hips surge up into the air, bucking violently up and down. I see her face, and can honestly say I have never seen anything more beautiful. I see the light surrounding her face, that glow of fulfilment, the way her full lips tremble, the pink flush of her heated skin. There's something in her eyes, something deep and secret, something completely beautiful.
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I swear I see a place I never thought I could see; Heaven. She glows, sparkles, she is a women, utterly and completely. Nothing could be more beautiful than she is right now. I don't think I'll ever be the same, after seeing that look in her eyes, the pure pleasure and erotic innocence. I've seen the secret in her eyes, and I love her all the more for it. She looks at me with eyes so full of fear, and I hold her to me to reassure her, to show her how much I love her. I stroke her hair, feeling the dampness from her sweat, and feel her still trembling body against me, against my incredible hardness. She purposefully rubs her legs against me, feeling me with her thighs.
Her movements are so swift, I am unprepared. She swings her leg over me and climbs aboard. I look up at her kneeling above me, her high breasts still rising and falling faster then usual. she’s looking right back at me, a wicked smile forming. The torture is exquisite, her pussy just millimeters above my hard cock, she moves her groin in little circles, just allowing me to feel the gentle brush from her pubic hair. So close, all I would have to do was raise my hips in a hard thrust and I would be firmly inside, but I remain unmoving, entranced by the view. Finally she begins to lower her self, that tight sheath, closer, closer.
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The head of my cock is now pressed firmly against her tighness. Slowly, very slowly she begins to sink, impaling herself with me, and utterly enjoying the experience. Her eyes close, her head tips back, a smile on her lips, as she takes me all in. My hands move to her breasts, tingling with the feel of her nipples pressed against them. She begins to move again, moving her groin in those delicious little circles as she raises her self, all the way to the tip, then suddenly tightens her strong inner muscles. I can’t hold back my cries, she feels so hot around me, squeezing me. And again she stars her slow descent, lower, lower, periodically tightening around me until once again she is fully impaled. I can’t take anymore. . . I want this to last forever, the amazing view of my love riding me, arched back, the candle light glinting of her sweat covered body, she looks like a golden goddess. But my need for release is stronger. I grip her slim waist, and begin to thrust, her cry of delight driving me on. I pound harder, god ,she feels so good, getting closer. .
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. I pound faster. . . closer. She cries out again, contracting around me, again and again, yanking me over the edge with her. So hot. . . so tight. . . so good. I can’t hold back, she pulls sounds out of me, I’ve never made before. Then all is silent, and she is gone.
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. . Once again I wonder if she was real, or had I just dreamt her, the perfect beautiful dream lover. It tortures me, terrifies me, what if she wasn’t real, what if I never see her again. . . . these thoughts refuse to leave me, denying me sleep, until she returns, climbing through my window. . . .
