Nectar

103 degrees. 1 a.m. No power. No AC. No fans. Just heat, endless heat. I knew why the power flickered and went off; everyone in the city had turned on the air, and the power stations couldn't handle it. It had happened once before, and I remember laying awake all night in a desperate attempt to sleep. Even reading or writing by candle light were to much to do that night.

This time, Anna I spread the comforter out on the floor, to minimize body heat exchange, and hopefully grab that little cooler air closer to the floor. 100 degrees instead of 103. Before bed I decided to sleep nude, but Anna in her modesty still put on her summer pajamas. When she returned from the bathroom, I heard an exasperated sigh, and saw her pull off those pajamas, settle down next to me, nude, for the first time. As much sex as we had, she always put something on before going to sleep. She tried explaining it to me once, but it didn't make much sense. It was just one of those "things" we all have.

Even speaking at that point was too much, so I didn't try to make conversation to pass the time. The idea of sex even seemed ridiculous. I tossed and turned, finally resting on my side facing her, and the light from the street lamp, allowed me to se parts of her. Her skin was covered in sweat, just as mine, but it glistened, sparkled somewhat. I watched her chest and stomach raise and lower with each breath, seeing small droplets fall from the apex of her breast to her stomach and over her side. I was mesmerized. I reached out to her, touching my finger to her arm, which was folded over her eyes, and I took a drop of sweat and brought it too my lips. In the heat and in exhaustion, I might have been a little delirious, but that droplet was like nectar, like ambrosia that the gods denied humans in their infinite wisdom. There was little taste to start, but the saltiness crept in, and I felt, I knew I needed more.

Anna didn't respond to my first touch, and as my tongue traced a line from her shoulder to her breast, she still didn't move. I didn't care at that point, I could have laid awake all night, aroused as I was, as long as I could taste her. In that strange state I bathed her with my tongue, licking every inch of skin that I could find, like a cat bathing her kitten. I stayed away from her nipples, hoping not to wake her, but as I saw the sweat gathering on the tip, on the areola, I needed to make those mine as well.

As the tip of my tongue moved from the edge of her areola, to the tip of her nipple, I felt her take a deep breath, and moan ever so softly. She could have been having a dream, for all I knew, but it was affecting her. I lost my wits, and did the once things that she couldn't resist, I took her nipple between my teeth, and pulled away, taking it with me. The moan was replaced by a gasp, and her hands grabbed my head. I looked up with my eyes and she was staring at me in a wild way; at first I didn't know anger from passion. As I let go of the nipple, the sight of her throwing her head back in obvious pleasure, was all the encouragement I need to satisfy my other need.

I already had tasted all her stomach, so I parted her thighs, slicks as they were, and pressed my tongue immediately to her clit. My caution and patience wasn't needed anymore. I needed her sexual nectar; I needed all of it. I knew she flooded me every time I made that same move on her clit as I did with her nipple. So as my fingers spread her lips, my teeth embraced her clit and pulled. The inevitable flood soon covered by fingertips, and I quickly moved my lips and tongue to the source. My fingers replace my teeth, and I milked her, as thought I needed that honey to live.

The heat had over come both of us, and I saw quickly Anna pulling at her nipples, her torso writhing, her head rolling, and her lips moving. The sounds escaping her were animalistic, primal, intoxicating to my ears. I didn't wait for her nectar to fall, I found it with my tongue and took it from her, pushing my tongue deep in side as to find the very point of origin. Instead it came from everywhere, covering my tongue, igniting my senses. I felt a spasm, then another, and the flow increases, and I knew she was at her peak. Her hands drove my head further into her, so that I could barely breathe as she screamed into the half-light. Then she released, relaxed her muscles, and tried to catch her breath. I relaxed too, a little, but still, delicately, I tried to catch every last drop. Finally she pushed me away, weakly, shaking her head to say no more, too much. I reluctantly pulled away, slowly coming out of my own strange delirium.

I rested next to her, lightly touching the skin I was taken just moments before. Anna looked at me with tired eyes, but there was a glint that wasn't there before, a sated glint, and she gave me a weak smile. Those two things meant more than any orgasm she could have given me that night. I kissed her, on the lips for the first time that night, and I hoped that she could understand why those tasted drove me to pleasure her as I did. As I drew away, she only gave another silent thank you with her eyes. She reached, slowly and clumsily down my stomach, hoping perhaps to please me in a similar way, but I took her hand, held it, and kissed her forehead. I didn't need that pleasure, I had a different kind that night, and it was just as sweet. I laid down next to her, still holding her hand, and whispered goodnight. She let out a sigh, this time, not out of exasperation, but something else, release perhaps, or contentment. In moments I could hear the tell-tales sings of sleep.

I was happy, sated for the moment as well, and in minutes, I found sleep as well.