The knock was soft. I knew it would come. Why you even bothered is the question. You know I'm yours. I open the door slowly, hoping it doesn't squeak. It does. I decide not to care. They know. They all knew you'd come knocking. You always do. And, I always answer.
We've seen each other all day. I'd glance your way and catch you looking at me and vice versa. The hello embrace lasting a moment longer than our other friends. You still instinctively protect me, you take the outside as we stroll through the city, you won't let me walk alone, you take my hand on uneven ground. I'm precious cargo to you. You make sure I remain intact. Make sure my kids get me back whole. I'd forgotten what it felt like to be cared about like that. I look up to you now standing in the hall so very tall and bare foot. I feel the corner of my mouth lift and watch as yours follow and then you step in and shut the door behind you. No words. But you say everything as you capture me. I'm on my toes nearly hovering as you pour years worth of hunger into our first kiss-since the world went completely mad. I can't get enough. **** I'm crying. Why am I crying? You deepen the kiss pulling me even closer into you. And, then you just hold me there against your long and lean flesh. I sigh relief as you rest your chin on the top of my head and begin humming the song you wrote for me a decade before. I feel my mask slip. I feel myself- the real me-poke her head out. I can be weak. I can be vulnerable. I can be mad. I can feel when I'm with you. You let me. I'm more than a mother when I'm alone with you. You smell like you. A simple statement but there's no other smell to equate it to. I could find you blind folded and hands tied in a crowd. I even know the way you breathe. Which steps belong to you as you take the stage in the dark. I know you, Rock Star. More than you want to allow. I am now kissing any part of you I can reach. Your chest, the tattoos starting from shoulder down to wrists, I lift your capable fingers and press my lips to two. Your amber eyes are hot and you could not hold back your moan. You know this mouth: you know what it does to you. And, so it begins. The steps toward the plush bed. The blinds are wide open with city lights, traffic, stars, and a Great Lake in the near distance. I push you gently and you oblige by falling back and watching me undress.
"*******" you whisper into the night. I know this is not wise. I don't care. I've nothing but myself to lose.
You struggle to breathe the moment my hand reaches your zipper. You're swollen so thick I'm almost scared of how good this is going to hurt. I start at your base and slowly lick up. I keep my blue eyes on your face as it fills with passion I take the tip allowing my slobber to get you nice and sloppy. I work it until you're gripping my long copper hair with one hand and the designer sheets with the other. I open my throat and take the length and you curse and arch and moan. My hand on your defined stomach I feel my ***** drip as your chiseled abs tighten. Don't you dare ***...yet. I crawl on all fours up to your mouth. My fat *** and sopping wet ***** pressed down on you and I capture your wide mouth. You eagerly return my violence nipping and groping my hips and *** so hard I knew I'd have prints. Sitting up some you feast on my *******. I *** once and then twice. I didn't bother to muffle the sound for our friends. I knew they were grinning. They know us. They have seen our dance before. I *** again...and then you shift the weight and toss me to the bed even as I'm quaking and trying hard to recover so I can see that perfect face fill with pleasure. No such luck as you show no mercy. You toss my legs over one strong shoulder and slide all of yourself into me at once. I can barely breathe and I don't give a **** if I ever do again. It's you. It's always been you. My baby. My hearts desire. The ******* who worships me. You take long strides into me and your thumb slides into the exact right place between wet folds. I try to scream your name but I can't form it and so I just drown. You're talking to me but I can barely hear you I'm so deep below the surface. What? Oh I comply and get on all fours. You praise Jesus at the sight of my *** and ***** presented at once and toy with me by sliding the tip against the lips before entering slow. You're savoring this trying not to explode in me just yet. I'm so hungry I begin to bounce my *** off you and you start speaking in tongues. Harder faster deep. I feel my hot *** drip down my thighs. I can barely hold my self up and soon give up and I'm now on my belly stuffing a pillow in my mouth so that all of Chicago doesn't know how good you **** me. No one else comes close. I hate that it’s true. Because, it means I’m never satisfied when we are worlds apart. You're so close, sweating to me, as deep and you could get you're moving my hair and kissing my shoulder and then teeth sink in as you fill me with hot ***. More? Oh god baby. You moan in my ear and one hand finds mine gripping the sheets and it links our fingers as the other takes a hand full of hair. You're still moving in me giving me every last hot drip. When you finally fall to the side you rest your hand on my *** and we both struggle for air. The only thing I needed more than that was what came next. When you can finally catch your breath you begin the worship. The kissing. Every inch of me, each eyelid, the nose you think is so **** cute, the lips you sing about, chin, shoulder, you linger around each ****** making me beg for it before your tongue flicks over. You feast on one with your talented mouth and work the other with your thumb and forefinger. You're an artist. You create and making love with me is yet another passion project. A challenge to you. How much can you wreck me? How sloppy sticky and utterly ****** can you **** me? I feel my brains leak out my ears as you trial down. How many times before we met had I watched you on screen and dreamed of your wide mouth on me? You kiss my lips and then **** gently and I arch and moan your fingers are long you curve them and slide two inside. I'm screaming until the pleasure is too much and no screams can form. I almost want to pull away from the sweet pain then you lock my thighs in your strong arms and lift my *** off the bed to bury that pretty face. I know this moment of almost too much pleasure will boil over and when it does I'll be a pool of flesh and *** and not much else. The world could end and as long as your tongue is inside me I don't give a ****. And it comes. The next wave to take me under. I'm gone. Will I ever return?
Part Two:
The heat of the shower was a lovely shock. I step in moments before you. There's two heads and the shower is ample but you want to be close so ignore that fact. You step in and skimmed your wide mouth over my wet shoulder before embracing me from behind. We say nothing as the water rains down on us. But, I could feel your yearning. The relief in finally connecting. I love you, too. This entire time. And, always. I also sorta hate you. But, we will worry about that when you're not sliding your hands down slick and ample curves.