Elation

I am not sure how we got here.  I am not sure where we will go after this.  There is no turning back.  I am certain of nothing.

Nothing except real or imagined, I never want this moment to end.  The beautiful culmination of all of our sorrows, our struggles, our laughter, our experience.

Feeling, finally feeling the softness of your flesh merged with my own. The hot wetness of your sex pressed, wanting, against my knee.  Rocking gently – a quiet request which I cannot deny. 

My hands are no fools.  They are not wild as with previous lovers, but slow.  Slow and cautious.  Moving up and down your body, cataloging every dip, every curve, freckle and mark.

These hands are my eyes.  Cupping and stroking; leading the way for my mouth to follow.  Tasting every inch of your flesh. 

Does your right elbow taste differently than your left ?  These are the things I must discover. Curiosity must be satisfied. 

I will know you.

My mouth is impatient.  It does not want to wait for my hands, to reach its treasure. 

It follows the trail of sweat, finding its way to your swollen, wet, lips.  I kiss them softly.  Coaxing them open with the promise of my tongue.

Running it from the base of your sex to the top, stopping just below the clitoris.  Gently, ever so gently, I repeat.  Each time, with a bit more force, pressing my tongue into you.  I taste the sweet tang of you.  I am consumed.

It is all that I can do to keep myself composed.  How sweetly you moan with my head between your thighs.  How seductively your body moves, instructs, guides. 

I am your student.  Show me, mold me, teach me.

Your hand clutches the back of my head, pulling me in, deeper, deeper.  My tongue is ravenous.  I feel I am drinking from holy waters. 

Warmth pools between my legs, throaty cry escapes my lips, slipping inside of you.  An invitation to join my coming, which you graciously accept – elation.

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