His kiss over my heart is like a promise, too, and I breathe out, long shuddering sigh.
There's less urgency to my desire now I have come once, and so I can lie here as he kisses me very gently and feel a need that is more sweetness than pain. It speaks of trust too, does it not, to lie like this? More for me, I think, than all sorts of complicated sex games. Just to lie still and quiet, and to let myself be loved.
He sighs almost like he's in pain, and I stroke him, soothe him. I want to touch every plane and angle of his body. I kiss the inside of his elbow, the crease of his groin, the strong tips of his fingers. Memorising it all, learning it again like my own.
My cock's throbbing, though, need and want and desire, and at last I reach for the lube and slick myself a bit. I crawl up over him, rest my weight on him, my cock sliding against his, against the fine hair of his stomach. My chest's against his, and I can feel his heart beating. I don't think I can speak, so I kiss him instead, open-mouthed but gentle, gentle. Stroke his face again, and flex my hips a little, feeling the sweet shift of my body against his.
If I've been kissed like this before, it was long ago. I don't know quite how much time passes under his lips, his fingers. He moves on top of me at last, body pressed against mine, mouth open over my own, and as he strokes my face I feel warm wetness slide from the corner of my left eye down to my temple, but this time I am not ashamed. I put my arms around him, and I tip my hips up to meet his.
Startles me a bit when I feel a tear run over my finger. Makes me feel so tender, too; I'll look after you, Al, if you let me. Kiss where the tear ran down, tasting faint salt, and then kiss his mouth again, bite his lip very gently.
He'd holding me against him, pressing up into me. His cock's hard against my stomach and I rock my hips into him, gentle pressure so that we're sliding against each other, hardness against hardness, between our two bodies.
Oh god, my love, my love. So close together, all the loneliness gone at last; just him, him. "Love." It's barely more than a breath. "Al. Aliyy." I always feel strangely shy using his full name, like I've no real right to it.
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His kiss over my heart is like a promise, too, and I breathe out, long shuddering sigh.
There's less urgency to my desire now I have come once, and so I can lie here as he kisses me very gently and feel a need that is more sweetness than pain. It speaks of trust too, does it not, to lie like this? More for me, I think, than all sorts of complicated sex games. Just to lie still and quiet, and to let myself be loved.
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My cock's throbbing, though, need and want and desire, and at last I reach for the lube and slick myself a bit. I crawl up over him, rest my weight on him, my cock sliding against his, against the fine hair of his stomach. My chest's against his, and I can feel his heart beating. I don't think I can speak, so I kiss him instead, open-mouthed but gentle, gentle. Stroke his face again, and flex my hips a little, feeling the sweet shift of my body against his.
Reply
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He'd holding me against him, pressing up into me. His cock's hard against my stomach and I rock my hips into him, gentle pressure so that we're sliding against each other, hardness against hardness, between our two bodies.
Oh god, my love, my love. So close together, all the loneliness gone at last; just him, him. "Love." It's barely more than a breath. "Al. Aliyy." I always feel strangely shy using his full name, like I've no real right to it.
Reply
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