All For You

Arousing you was easy, but deliciously slow. We sit now on the bed, nude, lightly embraced, my lips on your shoulder, kissing, my hands on your back, caressing. I can feel your breath, soft and shuddering, in my ear, your nipples, stiffening, pressing into my chest. I kiss you again, carefully, lightly on the lips. I kiss you again, a little deeper, but no less gently, tasting you, the warmth and wetness of your mouth.

"Lie back," I whisper.

Slowly you slide back from my arms, laying back on the bed. My hands continue their caresses as you move, going carefully from your back to your front, maintaining constant, touching motions over your skin. You settle back into the bed.

My hands move lightly over you, tracing the lines of your face, the swell of your breasts, the curves of your hips and surface of your stomach, and the tips of your nipples. You shudder at the touches, almost as if chilled, and a moan and sigh escapes your lips.

When one hand strays close to your mouth, your eyes close and you capture a finger with your lips. It seems to disappear into your mouth, half of its own volition, half of yours. The heat and wetness of your mouth on my finger is exquisite, the sensation of your moving tongue on this one small part of me remarkable. The look on your face betrays the pleasure you take in this simple act.

All the while my eyes are fixed on you, aware of every breath, every motion. I feel you under my hands and fingertips smooth, warm in some places, genuinely hot in others. The feel of you is like no other. No surface, no fabric, so object, no substance feels like you. Another depth of pleasure is found in knowing these parts. I can feel your heat, your flesh, your blood, your excitement moving, beating, living under my fingers. They feel as if they float on the surface of some delicious, flowing liquid, yielding to and at the same time pressing back against my touches.

I carefully withdraw my finger from your mouth, both hands on the sides of your face, caressing back down your body. You moan; half disappointed in response; your eyes still shut. You squirm lightly.

"Shhhhhh" I say slowly, not a request for silence, but a gentle utterance to comfort you. "Relax, just relax. Just accept this for you. This is for you." I punctuate this with a kiss on top of your belly button, accented playfully with my tongue swirling into it. You giggle lightly at the touch, then let out a deep breath and seem to settle deeper into the bed.

I rest my head lightly on you, just above your hips. The feel of your skin against my face is wonderful. I can hear your heart beating strongly above me, and I'm aware of how deep, and excited your breathing has become. I can't see my hands as they've moved down your legs, stroking lightly back and forth up and down the outsides of your thighs. Each stroke down a little further, reaching down to your calves. My hands reach under them, lightly kneading the firm flesh, caressing up and down. I lift my head up, giving another kiss to your skin, just before looking up fully. The side of my face is hot, and lightly moist with perspiration, yours and mine, from being pressed against you.

My hands are now squeezing both your feet, massaging them. I look back up at you again. I smile. Your eyes are closed; you seem lost in a dream. "Relax," I say again gently, perhaps unnecessarily, you may not be able to see my smile, but the look on your face suggests that you can feel it.

I slowly move my hands apart, bringing your feet with them, opening you. I put your feet down on the bed, your legs slightly bent and open. I can see you glistening. I lean forward into to you, laying on my stomach as I move between your legs. My hands again on your calves, working back up.

A slow sighing moan escapes your lips, perhaps because you can feel the heat of my skin of my face, as I can feel the heat of the skin of your thighs.

My hands rest on your knees, and as I press them down, lightly, turning the insides of your thighs up, I turn my head, kissing one side of your thighs, gently, wetly, and on the other thigh as well. Your legs quiver slightly at the kisses, and almost shake when I kiss them again, this time opening my mouth wide, and allowing my tongue to circle on your skin. My hands and fingers are on the insides of your thighs, holding them open with no more than gentle caresses with my palms and fingertips.

Your pleasure is like sunlight at this point, above and in front me, radiating down like a summer sunrise, with its easy light heat and a promise of a deep heat later in day. My own pleasure is like basking in that sun, drinking in its warmth on my skin.

I stop for just a second. "Just enjoy. I want you to take your time. Nothing has to go any faster than you want. Just let it all just happen."

I move up a little, slowly, gingerly. I take one more kiss, very close to the top of your thigh, wetness and heat against my cheek. I give one more gentle urging to relax and I turn my head up. My lips part slowly, and I stretch my neck up a little. I taste you even before I touch you. My lips feel the edges of you, as your thighs surround my head. I move my head up and down, tracing the my lips on yours with the lightest of touches, again uttering, "relax", "enjoy" and "let it happen" against you, as if trying to put the words into your body. My hands reach under the crooks under your knees, and lightly stroke at the outsides of your hips. You shudder, and moan, "Please!" with an odd relaxed urgency.

My tongue parts your lips, taking its first genuine taste of you, your wetness and taste seeming to send a charge through me. I restrain and impulse just to devour you madly, greedily. Instead I move my tongue gently up and down, feeling along the length of your lips, taking careful note of every curve, and dip.

I measure your pleasure with the light shudders of your body mixed with your moans and sighs. I continue patiently, waiting until you seem to settle into a relaxed rhythm that matches the strokes of my tongue, and the breeze of my breathing against you. All the while I feel something building within you, layer by layer step by step. If it could be said that I were laying the foundations for this, I do it in careful, measured steps, stopping at each point along the way to see if everything fits correctly, and perhaps polishing a bit, or caressing something into place.

You utter, "Please!" again with a delightful breathless quality in your voice. With my eyes looking up as far as they can without moving my head, I can see just over the rise of your body. I can see you slowly writhing and undulating. I reach up with my hands, under your legs, making them bend a little more, rising slightly higher to permit my hands to move up. The caress over the edge of your waist and sides, spreading out and massaging the front of you as my tongue continues its gentle actions, as if trying to urge and control some current within you.

I shift my body up a little, getting even closer now. I tip my head up, never breaking contact though, allowing my tongue to move all the way to the tops of your lips as my mouth parts open a little wider.

My mouth covers you now. Your flesh, hot and wet, seems so relaxed against my face that I can pull it into my mouth with my lips with very little effort. My lips and my tongue circle and caress around your clit, only occasionally drifting very lightly across it to test where your excitement and pleasure lies, to ensure that I'm applying a little more than enough, but never too much.

That which seems to be building in you rises again. I temper and slow my touches and licks, and kisses, allowing you to enjoy the building, as well as the result. I move back down into your lips again, carefully slowly, feeling how the pleasure there works for you as well, perhaps not as quickly, strongly, or suddenly, but slower, more even pleasure, like a pull of cool water on a hot day, before some final exertion.

It's then that I recognize the need. With a muffled, "take it slowly" on your flesh, I move my head up again, working again, slowly but earnestly. I hear you crying out, moaning loudly. I need my hands with pressure from my neck and face to hold your hips still enough so that I don't loose contact with you. I feel you riding a curve, rising on it. I'm careful to map it as I go along. There's a pause, spent by my lips, mouth and hands gently caressing you, patiently, carefully, confident in an eventuality. I feel a pulse move through you, and your body seems to almost heave away from me by some irresistible force. I hear you cry out in a long drawing moan, that sounds as if some pressure in you had been released as was surging through you.

I keep my mouth on you, no longer moving as eagerly, just trying to maintain a warm comfortable presence on your body. I can feel you surging under my lips and tongue though. Occasionally I do lick, kiss, and tongue, as if trying to channel this current through you, and directing it to continue as long as possible, drawing it out.

I shift back just a little, smiling, perhaps devilishly. My face is soaked, and the smell of you seems to fill me. I kiss the inside of your thighs again, warmly, comfortingly. I hear you laughing lightly above me. You say something includes the word "marvelous" in it. I am listening, but my attention is focused on another sense, not of touch, sight or sound. I'm concentrating very carefully on timing.

You protest mildly as my face moves onto your body again; they fade as my lips find you again, and my tongue tastes you again. It's not uncommon to find something that you're looking for to find another one right behind it.

Your moans and sighs are at once new and at the same time familiar to me, just as the feel of my mouth, lips and tongue must feel to you. I'm sucking a little more strongly now. My hands are working a little more earnestly, stifling those last protests and pulling you up from any settling you may have done. You're louder now, freer, moving without hesitation. In and odd way you're more coherent, offering urgings and directions to that which you crave the most, like returning to some treasured getaway, knowing what to look at and what to savor. With relish and delight I take your directions, accenting the actions with my own ideas, caresses of my hands, flutterings of my tongues, and perhaps an ever so gentle nibbling a little of my teeth.

Soon though, you're not speaking again. I hear you moan, and cry, the pleasure in them as palpable as wind. It's building again within you. Stronger this time, deeper, I can feel it filling you. The sense of its presence above is nothing short of awesome. I wonder if I could contain the sheer force of it, and wonder further if I should even dare try!

You curse this time, as you nearly explode against you. Your whole body jerks away from me almost as if you were convulsing. You writhe against the bed, almost thrashing. My face is no longer on you. Which maybe just as well, you maybe sensitive beyond a point of pain now, and pain is the last thing that I want for you. Besides, I have yet one more way of accenting your pleasure now, that I myself need as much as you.

I move up the bed quickly. This time tears are streaming down your face, and you seem to be sobbing. I scoop you up in my arms, enveloping you. Your head quickly finds its way onto my shoulder, as my hands caress and stroke your back.

Your body shudders against me, in time with your sobs. I feel one of your tears drip onto my shoulder and roll down my back. I hold you tight. The heat of your quivering body a wonderful sensation.

I have this brief fear that I may have done too much, that I may have actually hurt you. That fear is silenced as the raw intensity of your pleasure subsides, like a flood receding, leaving in its wake fresh and fertile ground. The gentle heat and passion of your kisses on serve to confirm this.

I'm hugging you again, my face buried against you. The scent of your hair mixing with everything else.

"All for you my, Darling. All that I feel for you," I say intensely against you. And now you feel my tear on your shoulder.