Here in your room, you stand on the low futon bed. Your hair is loose, your eyes are bright. I can see your top teeth, your mouth is a little bit open. I'm beginning to know your tells.
I pull the bottom of your shirt up from the tight black skirt, and undo each button, one by one, starting from the top. My fingers are deft, but sometimes they tremble, giving me away. This is your control over me. You don't need to do a thing, but you own me. I say your name, and my mouth is sweet gentle as we kiss.
Your mouth tastes of summer apples.
I undo all the buttons and slide the shirt back from your arms. I fold the shirt like a priest folds a surplice and place it on a chair. I push back your hair from both shoulders, it falls down your back. Your throat is bare for me, smooth pale skin on your body, and the lightest, lightest dust of golden hair on your arms. Your breasts are hidden within the soft cups of your bra. There's a border of soft lace on the tops of the cups, and your hard nipples press through the cloth.
There's a quiet in the air, our breathing is soft. "Take it off," you say quietly, "my bra. I want you to look into my eyes as you do it, so I know it's my mind that you want, as well as my body."
I look at you, and you're serious. Your pupils are enlarged, a deep black. I glance down and see a faint blush on your chest, then I reach around behind you and with one hand I undo the catch on your bra. The flimsy garment falls away and still I'm looking into your eyes.
Your eyes flick forth and back then settle on my mouth. Our minds connect and you smile. "Make love to me slowly," you say. "I'm learning to like your slow ways."
You undo the buttons of my shirt, and you're just as slow, wanting to savour the moment, I suppose. There's a quick intake of breath, is it mine, is it yours? I don't know. You run your fingers through the light grey hair on my chest, it's not thick. You tease up my nipples with your fingers, then lower your head and you nip one between your teeth. It's the gentlest bite one could give.
I trace my fingers over the faint marks your bra has made on your skin, where your swelling breasts strained against the tight cloth. I rub my fingers over the marks, then circle both your nipples, pinching them up to tight nubs.
"Press your palms against my breasts," you say, "I like the pressure on my flesh."
You rest one hand over my heart. It's such a small hand compared to mine, but the pressure is constant as you push against me. Can you feel my heartbeat?
Your drop your hands to my waist, and quickly pull the belt through the buckle, then pull the zip down. You press your hand in against the thick swell that you find.
You hold your hand there, pressing against me, then you kiss me hard, your mouth opening and your tongue finding mine. You tangle and probe your tongue into my mouth, and I'm feeling your urgency now. You want me.
You back away, and in one movement you pull my jeans and underwear down. You lick your lips, look down, then back up to my eyes, then down again. "It is very nice," you say, "your cock."
And you drop to your knees, open your mouth, and take in the plum red head of me. I hold your head in my hands and slowly caress your hair. It's silky soft, and I run my fingers through it.
I don't steer or direct you - I'd much rather a woman takes me. You do, and when you look up at me with your drowsy sex filled eyes, I see them slowly close and you suck me. I feel your tongue moving over my head. Your hands cup my ass cheeks, and you pull my body into your mouth.
You caress and suck for minutes, your hands wandering over my skin, my ass. You stroke up and down my thighs and your eyes are still closed. I can feel you swallow, and your mouth is getting hot. I feel my cock thicken in your mouth, it does that, and the shaft gets darker as my blood pulses.