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The night had dawned by Terry Cummings
I felt course beneath her smooth touch, her fingers delicate compared to my embrace. It was a grace I knew I could never achieve and I was simply grateful that I could experience it, to feel it touching me, holding me. Pushing against my chest and running through my hair, precise and knowing, making my grasps feel clumsy and my movements jilted. She was fluid where I was force. She was silk where I was wood. But I could feel the silk fall against me and over me and soon I forgot that it wasn't a part of me and that's when I knew we were as one.
We shared control, neither asking, each knowing what the moment required. I would lie beneath her at one time, touching her skin, kneading her breasts, letting my fingers sink into the warmth of her mouth, tracing the outline of her back softly with my hands, pushing fingers into the moisture which we shared between. And then in a breath she would be below me and I could explore her body with my own, parting her and feeling her feet cross as they fell across my back. My movement was matched by hers and she held me inside, creating force in the softest recesses of her body and motion where it gave the most pleasure. We shared everything we were, our bodies, our sweat, the fluid from our mouths, but we also shared our strength and our imagination so that we both found experience which we had never before thought possible.
I washed her body with what remained in the liquor bottle, seeing the last drops falling slowly onto glistening skin, the moisture combining with sweat, producing a scent which enticed me to taste and bade me to devour. I chased the remains around every part of her with my tongue, every part of her I could imagine. Soon there were no other regions to explore and I returned gratefully to her lips, sinking into them with my tongue. Sinking into her with every other part of me. This went on until my lips were numbed and my body strained for rest, this went on beyond that point too for although I was spent, she had energy left to use on me, and she played with my body with her body and gave me parts of her which I now knew by taste. All the time she sighed, the dry breathless sound broken only by murmurs of pleasure, gasps of elation and the cry of the contented. To hear these sounds brought ecstasy I could barely control, but I held my breath and listened to them all the same, smiling as they grew louder, smiling into the darkness.
We showered in the night, the stream of the water coursing over and between our bodies as the minutes fell away. All the time I kissed her smooth wet skin, ran my fingers over her moist body. I knelt before her and kissed her thighs, rising slowly with my tongue until I could feel her gasp. Her legs began to tremble and she spat away water which had ran into her mouth. I kissed her deeper still and she held my head between her hands, her body lowered slightly with her back against the wall, arching slightly. I looked up and saw her face coated in wet hair, her mouth open as though in breath. Water ran from her face and onto her breasts, streams formed down her stomach and fell to where my tongue was feeding, tracing a line whose path I would be to retrace next.
I returned to the room after I had dried and found her standing by an open window, the breeze had caught a wisp of wet hair and it danced a silhouette against the pale orange glow of the streetlights beyond.