Jeans 1

Laying back along the couch, my legs stretched out across the floor from where my bottom sits at the edge of the cushion, my eyes close in the late afternoon sun. Jeans cling to my hips, tempting him where they hug my form and end at my waist, giving way to the shirt that caresses my chest and shoulders. Taking my hand, he lifts it to his lips, half-smiling as his kisses brush the length of my fingers. Both my hands in his, he brings them up along the back of the couch, behind my head, as he leans in. Quiet breath curls along my ear as I hear him whisper, "Keep your eyes closed..."

I obey, and his breath, his touch disappears for the moment, reappearing at my waist as lips nuzzle the hem of my shirt away, revealing the curve of my navel to his kisses...slow strokes of fingertips...soft brushings that trace spirals upon my skin and send tingles though my body...up my spine...and back down to curl my toes.

Kisses nibble their way along my waist above my jeans as I feel his hands slide down along my legs to rub quietly up...then down. Slow squeezes knead along my inner thighs, changing to the press of fingertips that draw down the tight denim in a firm, careful scratch. Another lick graces my skin moments before the button is undone, and his teeth find the zip, drawing it down to the bottom, nuzzling me with the motion...

The denim is quietly peeled away, exposing the silk beneath in a V-shape below my navel. Black, smooth, and warm to his lips, he begins to caress me through the thin material. Kisses brush his name across my warmth. Breath slips barely through to excite the flesh beyond, and as he moans from the offering rise of my hips, his hands begin to draw my jeans down...ever so slowly...revealing the luxury of my skin.

My eyes remain closed, still obeying, hips lifting while the denim slides away. Along my thigh he lays his cheek, tongue wet, flittering across my delicate skin...deftly slipping in waves over the expanse of my inner thighs. I can feel the jeans at my ankles now, then kicked off gently, and my legs are free to spread, guided by my palms. Silken black grows warmer, graced with the scent of my eagerness, and beautiful still to delicate strokes of his fingertips.

I know he'll love how I taste exquisite along the edges, the tip of his tongue tracing the curve where my thigh meets my hip...slow, wet muscle teasing beneath the fabric to whisper intimate sensations closer and closer. Though I cannot see, I can feel his gaze looking up at me, watching the pleasure in my face, the way I lick my lips, the fluttering pulse in my neck, and my rising flush of pleasure. I know he is watching...as I know how much he loves my pleasure... His hands continue to adore my legs, my skin, my shape...sliding over me...back and forth...all the while licking the edge of the fabric that covers me...seeming ever thinner...such a small barrier to my cravings...his touch everywhere...

With a slip of his thumbs, the satin is slowly pulled away. Cool air and warm breath slip down over the bare desires between my legs and I lay back, aching, wanting, excited by my vulnerability. The first kiss to touch my heat steals a gasp from my lips, arching my body as muscles tighten and places deep inside me twist in wicked excitement. His hands tighten against my legs as my need to wrap them around him takes me, reflexively, and his slow mouth enjoys me.

Inch by inch, I edge myself forward, spine melting with a smooth lance of fire that runs up my back and surges heat through my body. My own need pulses between my thighs, lapped smoothly, licked, adored by his mouth. The hum of his moans kisses against me, and my own sounds fall from his lips in wordless pleasure that only makes him want more. Our moans begin to dance, a rhythm of sound, exciting the other, fuelled by the other...feeding on pleasure...hungry for more with every mouthful.

Languid strokes of passionate muscle taste me, slip inside my folds, and steadily grow stronger. Swirls that slip around me build, flickering, stroking, and tasting more. My body moves as I begin to lose myself, hips rocking, hands searching for more...voice calling out for more together...pushing myself in needful, greedy, passionate offering to be tasted, taken, filled...building...building...gasping for breath...teetering at the edge of the cliff...then plunging over it with a cry...release flaring up around me...wrapping me in a blaze of pleasure...satisfied...yet craving more.

And his eyes meet mine as I open them...still dark...now burning with need for me...from the pleasure of tasting me. Wanting me.

Take me then.