A few hours later you wake up, and it is dark in the room. The only light is red cast across our bodies from my alarm clock. Why is it that red seems like such a comforting color at night, while clocks with those glaring blue-white digits seem to burn through your eyelids?

While you slept, you've rolled down onto your back against the bed. It takes a moment to focus, to realize where you are, what time it is and what's been going on. You smile sleepily as it starts to come back to you. God, you can still feel the slickness between your thighs, the wetness of our coming together, you can still feel the sweat and our juices and ...

... and you can feel my tongue. You look down the bed and make some slight noise to find me there, buried between your thighs. When I look up, all you can see is the alarm clock's reflection, cheshire-cat-like, in my grin. My voice softly floats up to you:

"There's quite a mess down here that needs cleaning up."

And my tongue scoops inside of you, wiggling now that I know you're awake, and you fall back on the pillow with a moan. I am concentrating right now on filling you with my tongue, searching out each hidden fold and nook of your skin, and twisting the tip of my tongue against it, licking you clean. My tongue swoops and swirls inside your cunt, moves like an eel undersea, coiling and waving and liquid. I scrub you down with my tongue, inside and out; I sponge you with my mouth, wetting you down further and absorbing our wetness again. I lick you from your ass in long swipes up to your clit and back down. I circle your pussy like water whirlpooling down a drain. I move my mouth against you again and again ...

... until there is no longer even a pretense of cleaning, and I begin to stroke you with my tongue. My hands curl around your thighs, pulling you close against my mouth, and I lick you fast and deep, again and again. You squeeze your eyes shut until you see stars; you speak my name and believe that you see the word in neon against the night. I am licking you hard, my fingers reaching down to your ass and digging into your flesh for purchase, my lips tight against yours. Your hips begin to move as you fuck back against me. You are breathing faster, deeper, harder. Muscles begin to clench inside you.

Just as you think that I am going to drive you over the edge, to take you to orgasm just from my tongue and my face pressed to your cunt, I pull back. I move up to lick your clit; gently at first, tracing circles around it, flicking under it and then licking around again. While I do this I reach up as far as I can and my eager fingers find your nipples. They mimic my tongue on your clit; when my tongue circles, they circle. When my tongue darts in, they squeeze and pull a little. You arch your back, cursing as I tease you, as I lick and touch you just enough to keep you crazy but not to make you come. My forehead is against your gorgeous stomach; you can feel my hair falling across your skin.

There's something about not being able to see me down there that makes you even wilder, makes you need my touch more. It's almost like dreaming, like the frustration of falling and never hitting the ground, and you can't stand it any more. You curl up, burying your hands in my hair, and push my face down, moaning, "Please ..."

I understand; I know what you need. But instead of allowing myself to be guided, I continue to lick at your clit, but I thrust three fingers of my right hand, all at once, deep into your pussy and wiggle them there. Like an electric shock, their touch jolts you back against the bed. You feel them inside you, fucking you hard and deep, curling on the upstroke to trace the roof of your cunt, sliding out almost to the fingernails, then in one smooth push back inside you.

You can feel it start to rise inside you already. Your nipples are so hard they ache; your clit is stiff against my tongue, which flicks it faster and faster. Your whole body is shaking. I slide one of those three slick fingers out and down, working it into your ass. You writhe, impaled on my hand, caressed by my tongue and my lips and my hair brushing against your skin, crazy from my touch, and in the darkness time seems to have stopped, this moment just before you come seems to stretch to eternity. You have time to focus on the breeze from the window against your breasts, your own tongue against your lips, the golden melting flood rising within your stomach, your cunt, your hips, each fraction of a second as I caress your liquid soul ...

And then time seems to jump directly into fast forward, with the brutal rush of a roller coaster racing for the bottom of a hill, and you come. You come clutching the sheets until your nails press through against your palms; you come yowling like an alley cat beneath the moon; you come breathless and take the light against your body to be proof that you are glowing red-hot. You come until my teeth chatter from thumping against your pelvis again and again, trying to lick you to the very last drop, trying to ride your cunt and your clit and your ass until you can no longer move. Even as you finally collapse, your chest heaving, the sheets soaked beneath you and every muscle in your thighs aching ... even then my tongue is still gently moving against you, even then I am drinking you in, until you have quieted almost to the point of sleep and I move up above you, my thigh between yours, slowly lowering my body on top of yours, and I hold you that way, in a reverse of how you slept with me before. You feel that sleep could come to you easily and quickly ...

... but you are also aware of my cock, solid and stiff against the sweet give of your stomach, and how I am almost imperceptibly rubbing myself there.

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