Uncloaed

The doorbell rings; its peculiar abrupt crack travels like a jolt down my spine and floods my pussy with tingling wet pleasure. I walk towards the door and I feel the first layer shrouding the undertones of our relationship being peeled away.

Acknowledging to myself that I am looking forward to this encounter; admitting that my mind just screamed the word "pussy" with thoughts of you, of what your touch might entail causing the tingles down there. This in itself is a violation. Or perhaps a revelation; we are more. The more that is now about to be uncloaked.

I feel a thrill....like that of an artist. Revealing to the world at large his art; a sculpture cloaked with a white cloth; the folds of it shrouding the eroticism of the couple locked in a furtive embrace, with identical looks of passionate rapture barely concealed in their closed eyes and open mouths. It is scandalous; like a private moment put out for public display. The eroticism of the situation is palpable. The impersonal eyes devouring the personal ecstasy of two lovers, and the pride of the sculptor who stands there uncloaking the moment with a flourish; owning the moment and its eroticism, owning each and every reaction of the audience. The inescapable thrill...it is that which courses through my veins as slowly, at last, I open the door.

You stand there looking at me. One look at my face and you know something is different; even ominously so. It has always been like this. Words are often an unnecessary encumbrance when it comes to us. We have shared so much. In innocuous touches, barely whispered sighs, in looks across a crowded room where we needed no language but our innate knowledge of the very being of the other.

It used to freak us out often enough; that connection. How could I know without you saying a word, most everything that you felt? How could you know without me ever telling you, my thoughts and innermost desires? How could we share our vulnerabilities, without ever doubting the others strength? We always could. Perhaps, that is why we have been best friends for so long.

Rather, the time period be damned; through so much. We have helped each other shape our values, our ambitions, our emotions, our capacities, our strengths...our very identities. Without ever questioning why it was that matters of such deep regard were a staple for us? Without ever wondering....are we different from other couples, who perhaps do the same for each other but so seldom it is that it happens with such directness, such intensity, such deep awareness of the fact that whatever else it might be; it is not common?

Have we ever wondered if it isn't just uncommon; but perhaps even special? We are best friends...but could it be that perhaps because of lack of existing vocabulary...we never ventured to ask ourselves; are we more? Not best friends, not lovers, not soul mates...each of these is too defining. MORE.

I shudder...as yet another layer is peeled off...getting us closer to what might be the more of us. I know this...for with that one look at my face, with the subtle contracting of my facial muscles...my eyes narrowing, my face lifting, my gaze intent upon yours....you know too that I have crossed that line. The questions have been asked. There's no going back.

I hold you by your hand. The hot crackling energy rippling in between our palms no longer even surprising us...I lead you on into my room. There are no words spoken. Not yet. We still are absorbing the implications of venturing down this path. We could be more...but if we're not....who would we be? Would we still be friends? Yet we know....we have to follow this lure to its ultimate conclusion; whatever that might be.

As you stand looking at me, I move in closer. I am standing right in front of you. So close that the whites of your eyes are blurred. I can't look in to your eyes any more. My breathing is rapid, yet not shallow. I lift my hand and place it gently....my fingers brushing your shirt covered collarbone. Why did I never realize the tips of my fingers are an erogenous zone?

I can feel your heart beat steadily beneath my hand. I am scared...I am losing our connection in the uncertainty of this moment. For the life of me I cannot tell what you are feeling. Could it be anywhere close to this earthshaking sense of impending explosion? Like the world is tilting on its axis...the depths of it rumbling...gearing to explode to the surface? I dare to look up into your eyes. God, did you ever look so intense...like the magnitude of this moment is compressed into your gaze? Slowly it lowers to my quivering lips.

In a random flight of thought I suddenly smile...thinking how ridiculously dramatic it is to be feeling this way! Lips aquiver? Really? I sound like the protagonist of the latest Judith McNaught historical! You smile back. You got the joke. It is as if the humour brought back to life what we share...the comfort of being best friends and the knowledge that it cannot go wrong.

My heart stopped, my gut clenched, every nerve in my body taught as a pulled string; your lips descend on mine. And just stay like that...for a moment stretched into eternity. Then...I feel our lips move. Slowly...so softly...but with just purpose. Your tongue sweeps out to meet my lip. The wetness of you, the softness of your lips against mine, I open my mouth to take you in. It is like tasting heaven. So familiar...that I wonder if we haven't done this before.

Our tongues slide against each other, the suckling pressure of mouth on mouth, the slippery pleasure of lips against lips, the scrape of your teeth...and then you shift into over drive. The pressure is no longer gentle. Our tongues dance together in erotic tandem....broken sighs escape and are swallowed. You pull me in even closer. Your hand is sliding down my side, setting my ribcage on fire. You grab my bottom and thrust against me; almost lifting me onto you. The grinding pressure of your hardness rubbing against my clit...I feel like a slippery mess down there. No longer even aware of my distinct anatomy...I am on fire. The gentleness of your touch, the restraint in your grip, the almost involuntary movement of your pelvis; all in such sharp contrast with each other.

I don't know whether we are animal in our lovemaking or gentle as an old married couple. You stop kissing me and hug me close. Your lips wet and cold against my nape...your breath erratic and warm. You squeeze me tight...and slowly we float down to earth. We stay like that for a minute simply absorbing what has just happened. Apparently...that was a kiss.

I sigh deeply and move away. We are still touching but not quite.

I look at you and ask, "Let me undress you."

"Why?"

I roll my eyes at this doltish question and you sheepishly smile.

"Well, I know why...but, er...are you sure?"

"No, I'm not. But I've got to do this anyway."

You nod, imperceptibly. I move in closer. Just standing there.

My hand lifts of its own accord; my fingers grazing your jaw line...reveling in the roughness of your overgrown stubble. God, I love it so. My thumb moves up lightly touching your cheekbone...finger on your temple. I lean in. I can't help myself.

I lightly suckle your jaw...rubbing my lips against the hair, I bite for good measure. I leave light kisses over your closed eyes...your brow. I love the softness of your temple....I kiss you just at the corner of your mouth...never touching your lips, but the promise, the yearning in those kisses is not lost on either of us.

I unbutton your shirt...just the first two buttons. I want to open more but the expanse of your hair sprinkled chest uncovered by my ministrations leaves me breathless. I have got to taste you...to feel the texture of you rough against my tongue...the now unsteady thrumming of your pulse against my palate. My tongue tangles in your hair; I roll it around to tug gently on them. I can feel you squirm as I do that...your hands steadily caressing my back with a firm pressure, as if soothing me. I plant wet kisses on you...gently sucking. I can't stop.

One hand roving on your shirt covered side; God, I love the hard feel of you beneath the soft cotton; I unbutton two more with the other. Your labored sighs ringing in my ears drive me wild; knowing that it's no longer a choice. Even for you. You won't stop me anymore. The doubts may come later; perhaps even the guilt...but for now you are helpless under my sensory assault.

Am I exalting in this power I have? I think I am, but I am also reveling in the pleasure I know I am bringing you. It is me and no one else who can make you lose your head; forfeit control. You are mine.

The tiny goose bumps erupting over you lead me like a sirens song to your aching nipples. They are so small...tiny, flat. So different from mine; all puffed up and eager for you to taste them. Must yours want me to taste them as well? With a sweep of my tongue I decide to find out.

The first flick makes you jump in surprise. As I lose my tentativeness and suck on you forcefully, taking your teat into my mouth, a strangled cry escapes you. I create a vacuum with my mouth...keeping it from slipping and flick the tip of your nipple repeatedly. The tiny nub is beaded and hard under my tongue. You involuntarily moan. Your fingers are in my hair now...my curly tresses tangling in your hands. You hold me in place as if you can't stand the thought of me stopping this assault. Our moans have mingled as one.

It's a heady delight. Making you moan. Aren't you always the one keeping your emotions under lock and key? Never an involuntary sentiment slips out of you. Now, here you are, thrusting against me; your tilted pelvis rising and falling in erotic invitation. An invitation I cannot possibly resist.

My hands snake around your wrists, holding them apart. I kiss the inside your wrist. Wet lips still against the throbbing pulse. I continue to kiss along the inside of your forearm; my head snuggling in your gentle hands. Dear God, I could cum right now!

My fevered kisses trail along your chest. Creeping down; wet smacks, deep sighs, tortured moans, the salty taste of your skin, the hair chafing my chin. My hands encounter the barricade that is your boxers. Your one hand is massaging my nape, the other still soothing my back, the strokes in keeping with your deep breaths. All my extremities are tingling; literally tingling. My fingertips, my toes, my ears... My lips are sensitive to my own breath. As my hand slips under the waistband of your boxer shorts, I encounter your briefs.

I smile to myself. I have never understood why you have to wear both! Ah well, I wonder how many best friends are even privy to the fact to have thought about something so random. Heck, what am I doing thinking these thoughts now? I take a peek.

My first impression is of the warmth that's radiating from you. It's a musty, musky heat. It tickles my nose and I breathe in deep. Ah, that has to be added to my list of favourite scents now; the scent of you. Aroused; hot.

I kiss your briefs molding your manhood. The clear outline leaving me breathless! YOU GOTTA love those briefs! The feel of you twitching against my lips makes me pull them down. It looks funny, is my first thought. Waving at me like it is; swaying towards me as if begging me to touch it. Kiss it. Wrap the silky wetness of my mouth around it and suckle like a hungry baby; no; a woman hungry for the taste of her man. My man. Did I just think that? I did. Oh, this isn't funny. It couldn't be farther from funny.

My breath caressing the hardness of you, I can't make myself envelope it in my mouth. The glistening tip peeking through your foreskin is mighty tempting...but not temptation enough.

You have been silent too long; passive too long. I need you to demand from me, seek from me; not allow. I move back and look up at you. I'm on my knees; but the look you give me lets me know that the power is mine.

"Offer yourself to me."

You struggle to get out of this erotic trance.

"What?"

"Offer yourself to me."

You look down at me kneeling in front of you. I am flushed, hot; a slight dampness glistening on my skin under the lamplight. My hair is tousled, wild. My eyes are too bright. My breathing is shallow. And I am still as a statue.

"Please", you say.

"Please what? What do you want from me?"

"You know"

"No, I need you to tell me. I need to know you want this. I need to know I am not alone in this."

"I want you to take me in your mouth, suck on me. Suck my cock. Please!"

I give you a challenging look, "Make me."

You know I need this. You know I need you to assert yourself. I need you to tell me you're mine for the taking. With a ghost of a smile flitting across your lips you slowly move forward.

Your one hand in my hair again, with the other you put your dick right under my nose. I don't open my mouth. You wave it around...caressing my lips with it. You trail the length of it against my face...the velvety smooth hardness of it against my cheek, my brow, my eyes. I almost break. You trail it down my neck.

Now you are unbuttoning my shirt...your fingertips rough against my skin, your touch gentle. You reach your hand under my shirt and caress my heavy breast. I worry if you think they are too big; the swinging pendulous orbs. You can barely cover half my boob with one hand, as you slowly knead its soft contours.

I can't help but shudder as your fingers brush my nipples. The chocolaty darkness around them is tightly puckered up, pushing the nipples out. They are hard nubs, puffy and pink, distended more than half an inch. As your fingers rub against them I feel a sweet pleasurable pain tingling straight to mu sopping wet pussy.

My shirt comes off and I am bare to your gaze. I close my eyes. I don't want to know how it hits you when you realize you are staring at the nakedness of your best friend; bosom buddies indeed. I don't want to see the realization dawn in your eyes that perhaps we are going too far. I don't want you to not want me.

You take in my voluptuous beauty. Knowing it is for you; knowing that I am yours just as sure as you are mine. I am still not moving but for the heaving of my breasts, the tremor in my lips, the fluttering of my closed eyelids. A drop of precum leaks from the tip of your penis dangling precariously for a second before it dribbles on to my bare nipple.

I open my eyes. Where your wetness touched me, I burn. The want in your gaze is unmistakable. I look upon enthralled as your hand moves slowly to your now throbbing dick. It wants me. You want me. I take in a shuddering breath. The vision of your dark skinned hand moving across the glistening reddish purple tip of your manhood sliding slowly to the base of it and clenching into a fist, prominently displaying your offering, is just too much for me.

My pussy is gushing at this erotic sight. I am so wet that I wouldn't know the difference if I came. There is a keening ache in my depths; my pussy lips are tingling, my clit is throbbing for your touch, perhaps a wet kiss from your mouth, or perhaps to be filled with your hard length spearing through me. One hand still on your dick, the other snakes up my nape into my hair. You pull me closer to you, guiding your throbbing member into my mouth while holding it still. I open my mouth in a moan.

Talk about an offering. Fuck, I feel like a Goddess; a shimmering pool of lust puddling in my belly; me being a trembling mass of short circuiting nerves; but a Goddess nonetheless. Your dick slips into my mouth. My tongue snakes around the head once or twice before I suckle deeply to take in most of your length.

My tongue is roving your hard skin midst the vacuum of my mouth. In this moment I know what it is to love. I love your body, your hardness throbbing in my mouth, the taste of you, the smell of you, the life force pulsing in the veins and ridges of your penis. I love it; all of it. And here I thought women weren't supposed to like sucking cock; that they do it to please their boyfriends! And here I am...so getting off on this!

Every suckle, every lick...my teeth gently scraping the head of your cock, the moans that escape you in earnest now...are matched by hot desire pooling in my wet cunt. Fuck. It feels like if I reach down there and just dip a finger into me I will come. My hands are gently fondling your balls. I want to taste them too. I leave your cock unattended for a second...it looking like a forlorn lost child needing more loving. My hand wraps around it and my tongue snakes down to your sack. I suck them into my mouth...both of them fully. I love to feel them rolling around in my mouth rubbing against each other. I suck greedily. I feel you clench...but I don't want you to come yet.

I want to see you erupt. See you lose control. I want to make you scream. Softly I let go of your cock. Funnily enough I feel the loss too. You are breathing hard...so close. You'd hit me if you could...for stopping just now. Yet, I know you never would. My vulnerabilities are yours to keep, for I know you'd never abuse the power I place in your hands. And I like knowing that when it comes right down to it, I've got you by the balls; figuratively AND literally.

I want to laugh. How could this not be more? How could two people love each other so much, trust each other so much, respect each other so much, know each others' erotic responses enough to have them spontaneously combust....how could they not be more than just best friends? How could we not?

You look down at me and reach under my arms to lift me up. My body drags against yours, my nipples chafing against your chest hair. Did I tell you yet how much I love your roughness? I fucking to goodness love it! We're standing in a close embrace....our bodies yearning for more. I rest my forehead against your neck...the feel of your hard cock warm against my belly. I move back a little, stand on my toes and with a skip and a wiggle trap your cock in between my thick thighs.

I lean into you and gently rise and fall clenching and unclenching my thighs at the same time. Your hands grab my buttocks and you press me into you. I rake my nails against your ribcage and take your mouth in a rough kiss. As your teeth bite at my lips and your tongue lashes against mine I scream into your mouth. A desperate scream. A hot scream.

You suck my tongue into your mouth. Our mouths open against each other as we both battle to take control...losing ourselves in the process. Your dick slides between my thighs...the slick wetness from my pussy making squelching sounds; as if they are kissing too; your dick and my pussy. It is that. Your hard length is courting my wet channel, tickling my anus and driving me wild.

I push myself down on your shoulders and hoist myself a bit, you simultaneously pull down and out and just like that I feel the knob of your head pressing against my opening. I let my weight go and feel you slide deep into me...pulling me taut. The pleasure and pain, the tightness and the fullness are an exquisite sensation. We stop kissing. Our foreheads are resting against each others'. We look at each other. The final barrier has been crossed; all the shadowed desires now uncloaked.

We are truly naked now...with our vulnerabilities and our hopes. You are inside of me. Physically, that's a first. I yet can't fully absorb that we are standing buck naked in each others' arms with you buried within me...me pulsing around your still hardness. It's, well...exquisite. It's strange...it's unfuckingbelievably good!

Our lips meet in a gentle kiss and our hips start moving. You almost pull out completely and then ram home...one stroke....painfully slow....unimaginably erotic...two...and before you can finish the third my world shatters, my head starts to spins...my vision focusing and unfocusing as waves of such deep pleasure wrack through me that it feels like an inferno let lose!