Sunday, December 30, 2007

The Morning After Christmas

I felt a tingle under my balls. I was not sure, but rather than taking a chance on escalation, I stood up from my desk chair and silently but with hurried steps walked to the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open silently and scanned the darkness. My eyes slowly adjusted and I could see the edge of the bed in the middle. I stepped in and waited.

“I am awake,” I heard her voice.I approached the bed, and lifted the cover near enough to slip my head under it. I pushed forward slowly until my forehead bumped into something warm and soft. Tilting my head up to allow my lips to take the front action I again moved forward until they encountered warm skin. I made contact with her thigh on the first try. I began to take little nibbles and give kisses to show how much I appreciated being allowed to do that. After a few more kisses I withdrew and said, “Good Morning. Which would you like first, coffee or cuddle?”

"Cuddle,” she responded.

I went around the bed, unbuckled the signaling device, and slipped under the covers. It was a welcome place in the cold room. She turned toward me onto her left side as I wiggled my way close to face her. We touched full length with my body lower and my face between her generous breasts. Her right arm draped over me she pulled me closer. My left arm and hand were free to roam over her right side and back. This is the position that we often use to start the day, and it never gets old or diminishes in its intimate intensity.

I ran my palm down her side feeling the feminine hills and valleys as my fingers traveled down all the way past her knee. Then turning direction I ran my hand up tracing the back of her thighs, her buns, and her back. This was just to get a first greedy feeling of most of her. Now I could begin to get serious about exploring all that. I kneaded the muscles of her back gently, mostly for my pleasure. I moved my hand with lovingly gentle pinches of her skin, circling toward her buns. When arriving at one of her dimples I paused and used my fingers to feel the depth and shape of that lovely little depression where her back and butt meet. Remembering the many times that my tongue explored this place I wished that my tongue could be in more than one place at the same time.

After exploring the twin of her first dimple I began to kneed her buns and to move around to cover that entire curvaceous surface with my eager touch. Her thighs were waiting, so I had to move on. From our position I could feel all of her right thigh. I spent time on the smooth and slightly harder surface of the back of her thigh just enjoying the skin and imagining how it looks. My hand wrapped around that inner seam that is the transition between one buttock and thigh, and my fingers slipped slowly between her thighs so that I could feel that very soft area of her inner thigh where it meets my center of being. I lingered there but still moving the fingers to allow the intense textual sensitivity to toy with my brain. I wished for my tongue to be there, and for my nose to inhale her exquisite aroma. After a while I slid my hand slowly down to meet another lovely place behind her knee, another favorite place where I can lick and kiss for long times. This place is where her thighs and calves meet in a three dimensional form that approaches what is called a “hyperbolic paraboloid” in mathematics, a “saddle shape” in less formal usage, and “back of her knees” in the bedroom parlance. Regardless of the name, the feeling is the same: smooth thin skin with extra warmth and that sensuous familiarity that can grab the attention of all my senses.

Her calf invited my touch, so I had to move on. In my mind I could see its perfectness as I traced and carefully massaged its muscles. Knowing that I would never have enough, I had to move on to pay attention to other parts yet that I had not visited in detail this morning.

All of this time my face was enjoying the soft warm skin between her breasts. My tongue explored her cleavage while carefully avoiding getting them wet but enough to impart their flavor to me. The only thing that came between us was my little guy who was by this time eager to participate. He left a slick trail on the front of her thighs as I wiggled to try to park him in one of those little valleys that happened to be near.

She must have known what he wanted, because she reached down as I gently pushed her onto her back and slid up to be between her thighs. Her hand escorted the little guy into my center of being, where lately only my tongue was allowed to enter. I helped along by short and slow strokes to allow natural lubrication to do its job. We were in!

I did not rush; rather, I slowed down to truly feel her. This was the time when I could heighten all of my senses to assist in total joy. With my weight supported by my knees and one elbow I could feel her along my front, and could touch and feel most of her with my other hand. I did, and she felt perfect. These were those moments when nothing mattered because my mind was occupied by the joy of the occasion that comes so seldom. I was very aware of her, of her comfort, and of her generosity. These feelings came with a responsibility in addition to the pleasure. I felt proud to receive all that.

It did not take long for me to receive what she had intended to give to me. In the final moments I made some sounds that only she had ever heard. Then I stopped, resting on my elbows to continue to feel body-to-body, and to play with one breast or the other in remembrance of the waves that lead to the climax. I took a long time feeling her beauty, her generosity, her warm loving body with my hands. Her scent reinforced our closeness. There was nothing that I would have changed about this significant event.

I began to think whether I would be expected to clean up after myself. As usual, I was perfectly willing to do so before it happened, but not at this point. She bailed me out of my trepidation by saying,

“You may bring the coffee now.”

I answered, “Yes Mistress,” and hurried to the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot that was ready to brew. I turned on the house heaters, and then cleaned up the little guy. In a couple of minutes the two cups of coffee were ready.

Later in the bedroom we sat looking through the windows, watching the pre-dawn morning. Our mountain looked clear, lit up by the bright moon. This was home.

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