Hope

She left my lips, turned on her side and leaned on her left elbow. I followed her hand as it made its way to my body. She traced it so softly that I feared she had never done this before.

I started shaking with desperation, with the need to feel those fingers on my skin. She felt me, and reached the edge of my jersey, lifting it over my head. My shirt followed, and then my bra. She then moved down the bed, undid the laces of my shoes with one hand. I lifted my head and realised she was taking her remaining boot off as well.

My pants followed. She was undressing me with the same mechanical precision she had undressed herself the night before. It was then when I realised that it was not and had not been a mechanical movement, but a very precise, calculated, meditated action.

When her fingers reached the elastic of my panties she stopped and smiled, looking at my whole body –caressing it liked I had caressed hers earlier on, in the living room.

Her eyes returned to my panties and pushed them down so very slowly.

The sight of her half-naked body, her hands undressing me nearly took me over the edge. My face went numb with anticipation. I was desperately waiting for her to touch me, but instead she started taking the rest of her clothes off. I tried to sit up and do it myself, but she stopped me. She was undressing for me. She wanted me to look, and I did -just like the other night, although this time my eyes couldn't have enough of her, and she knew it.

When the last of her clothes was on the floor, she knelt over me and carefully measured the length of my naked skin with her own. She gently rubbed my breast with her own and settled back on her left elbow.

Then she touched me for the first time, and my nerve endings went into overload. Her fingers traced every inch of my skin; her face was like that of a curious girl exploring a forbidden forest –moving forward with awe, fascination, trepidation and contentment at finally having arrived.

I saw her looking at me, as if trying to find out if I liked what she was doing. She didn't know that she didn't have to do anything in particular; just to have her, to see her naked next to me was enough to give me all the pleasure I could take.

Or so I thought... When her fingers reached my nipples, I nearly blacked out. Her fingers teased my swollen lips and the wet skin of my thighs while her lips sought my nipples. The teasing soon gave way to an intense feast, her tongue flying over my nipple, her lips squeezing my breasts.

In the middle of the blur, any doubts I had about her having done this before vanished. She knew exactly what she was doing, what she wanted and how to get it.

Her slight fingers got bolder and little by little they slid inside of me. They found easy access deep inside, and once there, she flicked them once. My g-spot sent shockwaves through my body. Another finger joined in while her mouth reached my clit.

I gave up my entire life to those lips and fingers. They didn't have to work hard; a massive orgasm rippled inside, exploded and rushed out. I shook over and over again, feeling my body melt between my legs, on those fingers, on those lips.

She returned to my side, and helped us get under the covers. Once inside, we locked in a tight, silence embrace broken only by the soft sound of our kisses.

I ran my fingers along her face, feasting on the beauty of the moment, of her relaxed face that showed no traces of her usual distant hardness.

My sore shoulder started hurting again, but I didn't care. All I wanted to feel was her skin, her heartbeat, her hands, her breath... I wanted to have her like this forever, our naked bodies glued together with the dampness of pleasure and tenderness.

It had happened, and she still hadn't said a word - but she had said it all.

The silence, the night, the world closed in on us and I smiled.