Pleasure . . . part 2

You were lying on the floor while I straddled your thighs. You were warm, molten. Couldn't move, even if you wanted to. But you can't even think of it. You can't think of anything but of how you feel, how I look. My head tilts to an angle that sends my waterfall of golden hair to brush my now-uncovered breasts. The black silk blouse I was wearing is laying on your legs behind me. You can feel the strange smoothness as it ripples. My black skirt is riding up, but I won't do anything to stop it. My eyes are half closed, as if I am falling asleep after a sex filled evening. My hands come to rest on your hips again. I brush the air just above where your sexuality lies swollen. Teasing, just now touching. So close that you find the strength, the will to move your hips, to try to make me touch you. Your arms raise, just a fraction. Just enough that you can place your hands on my legs. There where I straddle your thighs. My smile spreads like molten lava, hot and dangerous.

Do you like the danger? Does it matter?

No. You can't resist it, and you don't want to try. I shift, ever so slightly, but still a moan raises from you. I smile again, and lean forward. I brush a feathery kiss on your forehead, your jaw. I caress your ear, and trail hot breath down your neck. My hand lays on your shoulder, then slides to the floor as I move. You can feel my legs slide farther away from your... hips and your breath catches as I pause to tease and kiss each of your nipples. Your hands slide off me as I move farther. I trail the fingers of the hand that is not supporting me across your abdomen, to your hips. my hair brushes along you. Teasing, heightening your awareness even more.

I rest my cheek in the curve of your hip. I'm so close. You can feel my breath sliding over your most secret of places. And then - I sit up. The breath you had been holding in anticipation whooshes out, and you make a small noise of complaint.

I just roll my muscles, and reach for the side of my skirt. And then you see it. A zipper, running down the length of the skirt. One hand stays at the top of my hip, while the other slowly unzips the skirt. That small noise, that buzz of sound threatens to push you over the brink. But you cling to your senses, and in a moment - are rewarded. I let go of the skirt, and it falls away, to lay close to the rest of my discarded clothing.

I wear nothing beneath. You can see the sweep of my hips, the junction of my thighs, all unmarred by the usual thick bristle of hair. Now you can feel the soft warm skin next to yours, you begin to sway in an effort to get up, to catch me. My hand on your stomach stills you, and you have only a moment to realise what is happening as I lower myself to find you. My breasts are pressed against your thighs and I part your legs, ever so slightly, to allow me access. You feel my breath against your center, and your own breath seems to stop. Breathing becomes an effort, to lift your heavy lungs and pull air in. Then I run my tongue down you - and breathing doesn't seem quite so important for some reason. You can feel the soft, teasing scrape of my teeth. You are taken into my hot mouth, and you realise that it is only just beginning....

Pleasure. Say it. It rolls off your tongue like a sweet dessert. A mistress of magic. Presents you with this pleasure. And somehow your troubles melt away... Far, far, away...

Written 08/98 by Night Angel