A Clear Afternoon in the Early Morn

A clear afternoon in the early morning...

Life is just about as frustrating as can be. This morning, a full bladder

and a dream ganged up on my short sleep cycle to wake me at 4:30 in the damned morning. Naturally, after I get up, go pee, check the house, and find all is secure;

I can't get back to bed, not that I was particularly sleepy. So now I have to sit here, playing pool with a bunch of idiots that are determined to find their long lost loves or at least a long distance "cyber' in a chat room, and watch you not log in. Sigh.

I'll pass the time somehow.

Kneeling in front of a tree in a park somewhere, I think.

The breeze catching my hair and the light fabric of my skirt.

Think I wanna concentrate on that for a moment.

--It could almost lift me away, couldn't it? Perhaps if I held out my arms and breathed in, holding verystill, the wind could just pickme up and take me away to a better place with it.

If there were someone, a person strong enough to hold me, keep me in this place the wind couldn't win. I'm feeling the breeze against my skin, through my blouse and skirt, but wait, there's something else I'm feeling...

Or am I? Can it be real?

I am feeling your hands on my bared stomach and sides...

How do I know they're yours? Because there's a rough softness to them that is warm and comforting, comforting like a favorite sweater, just feels 'right'. I don't have to look, my body knows.

You're rubbing the flesh of my body ever so gently to keep me warm, but it gives me thrilling little chills at the same time. I'm not sure which has more effect; the friction of your palms against my skin, or the delirious feeling I get just from knowing it'syour hands that are pressed against me.

Suddenly you're kissing my stomach, your lips barely moving, more like a gliding

across the surface of my stomach and up my panting chest, painting it as if with a soft camel's-hair brush. It is one of the most frighteningly, erotic things I can imagine right now. It is, in fact, the only thing that seems to surpass the sheer delight I feel at sliding my fingertips around the waistband of your jeans, inserting them slightly underneath in order to feel the hidden, seemingly forbidden, areas of your strong and powerful back.

Using knowledge only you possess, you keep your warm mouth and moist tongue so light and feathery against me, making your breath a primary tool, moving your fingers ever so slowly against the rise and fall of my belly. When you look up again at me, my eyes find a match with yours and through them I see the sensations you are making me feel. Loving me with your eyes and your hands.Your soft brown eyes are not exactly pleading and not exactly demanding, but somewhere in between: Give Me What I Want, they seem to be saying. A simple statement of fact, one with which I am hoping is in my eyes as well, for you to see.

From outside my skirt, I feel your fingers sneak downwards and hook onto the

waistline. Gently, yet purposely tugging it only a few inches down. Then painfully slowly bringing it over my hips and ass, covering my newly bared skin with more of your tantalizing kisses. The fabric slips to the ground.

My body seems to be lying to me, I know its cold out yet I feel so warm inside.

I return my hands to your soft, silky hair and lose myself in the mesmerizing feeling of running my fingers through it. You seem to contemplate for a moment, and then still ever so gently pull my panties off as well. They slide down my legs to my feet, leaving me bare to the world.

Think about that for a moment before I continue. Can you feel it?

The breeze, I think, which tickles my body even more insistently than before, drifting unseen fingers around my thighs and pubis. Leaning up against a tree, I can feel the bark bite rather distinctly into my back but not painfully, and I can smell the woods and the leaves heavy in the air. Perhaps it rained not long ago... Yes. That would cause the enhancement of the aromas, wouldn't it? Very much so, I think. And vaguely, as if from far away I can hear the birds sing to us.

Through all of this sensory input, I feel myself returned to the here and now by the warmth of your face pressed against my belly. I have begun to lose the control I have held so very tenuously for the last few minutes, and cannot keep from shaking when you kiss me. Your hands have inched around to the small of my back and knead my buttocks. I sense you concentrating on self-control, to keep from bruising my slim body.

Watching, I see your head slip lower. Then, oh heaven, I feel it as well: your mouth, soft but hungry, seeking and finding my vulva. My lips against yours -- it seems almost poetic.My scent working as a better aphrodisiac than any wine or chemical perfume ever known, and you kiss me yet more urgently, sucking and nibbling. Your tongue inches out to find my slit, and moves up and down it's entire length, pleasing me to extreme yet teasing me at the same time with the unspoken promise of more to come. Can you taste my sweat, and perhaps, just a little of the oozing taste of my excitement, begging you all on it's own to continue. You press harder with the tip of your tongue, and find an inviting passage inside to the inner most depths of my physical being. Unknowingly, penetrating the inner most depths of my soul at the same time.

I've been craning my neck during this performance of your talents with your magic tongue. Trying to see your face, to see if you could possibly be feeling just a portion of the wonderfulness you are giving me. You're aware, almost as though you want me to watch you bring me to the edge. Through the haze of my labored breathing and the electricity I'm feeling in my groin, I realize that may not be such a bad thing. But yet, I find myself inching backwards, hoping to gain purchase up the roots of the tree. I can feel the bark scratching the back of my neck as I urge myself against the tree, but

only dimly, as if in a dream -- later, at home, I will brush twigs and ground bark out of my hair and wonder how it got there.

You follow me with your body, up, and up until your beautiful face is perfectly inline with mine. I can see your soul through your eyes and I wanna reach in and hold it securely forever with my heart

Feeling your muscles taut with excitement, I reach up to meet your inviting lips and feel them part, welcoming me inside. So warm and moist, mmm...I rub my hands across the roughness of your unshaven face and dive deeper with my tongue, trying to reach your soul from your mouth, searching, probing while you respond with the same urgency.

I slide my hands down your back to your perfectly rounded ass and caress the smooth taut skin, then onto your inner thighs and the heat that is exuding from you. That patient tree is now giving me (and you) enough support to make your rising up slightly easier while I work my way down the softness of your hairy chest and lose myself in the luxurious feel of your heartbeat against my mouth. I tilt my head back slightly and allow myself to revel in your taste, your scent, in you in my mouth.

It seems almost too much for you to bear. With one hand pressed against the bough of the tree to maintain your balance, you bring the other down to the back of my head and wrap your fingers in my hair. Close your eyes and tilt your head back -- all you want to feel is my tongue and mouth, sucking, and dancing and twirling about. It wants desperately to know you, and you want oh so much to return the favor. You push

the back of my head gently into your crotch and begin to rock in time with my motions.

I'm finding it a bit difficult to breathe with you surrounding my face and my mouth like this, but what I do breathe includes so much of you that I can hardly object.

It seems to be working – I hear you let out a mild gasp and you have begun rocking against my face harder and deeper each time. More and more passion showing with each thrust.I can feel your muscles in your entire body tense in anticipation above me, but like the bark on my skin, only at the edge of my consciousness. I am too involved in your throbbing manhood to worry about such details. My hands, around your waist, up and down your back over your smooth ass, I hold you tighter as my mouth moves more and more frantically. With each stroke you rock more vigorously against me, and above me I hear rapid panting.

If I continue for much longer, I'm afraid I might cum on my own. Not to worry, however. It's only another minute or so before the quick back-and-forth of your hips becomes a vibrato, and your choppy gasps escalate almost into moans. My tongue, and mouth, redouble their efforts and directly prods and suckles your penis head and as far down it as I can go without choking, somewhere in the back of my mind, I am still amazed by the size of you.

With a single, long shudder, your thighs grind themselves together and you lean forward convulsively over my head. You're hoping to expose yourself to me even further, to hit a single perfect epiphany at the moment of orgasm. Although you and I both know it's hardly possible for me to be more intimate with you at this moment, it's the effort that makes the difference.

After a very long, powerful, very fulfilling release of the tension and pressure that has built up in your testicles, I feel you begin to pull away. I reach for one last feel of you inside my mouth then let you go, to relax back against the tree. Slowly I look over to you as you open your eyes and, smiling softly, we look at each other for a moment. I don't need to say it and you don't need to hear it: I love you, and you know it.