Caught

[Sensual_Goddess]

"Tell you what. Before we break out the dishes, why don't we see how the pie is."

Why don't you let me tell you what? I've been thinking the same thing. Why bother with dishes? How about you stick a finger in that probably still warm peach pie and let me sample it from there? Right from your finger. Maybe you'll let a little run down to your palm, even to your wrist. I won't let it get any further than that. Unless you want me to lick and nibble to your inner elbow. I would do that, pie or no.

Not being one to enjoy cooking, I had never quite understood the fascination with kitchen sex. Too many sharp edges, for one thing. Then he stepped in front of me, pinning me basically with one arm while he reached for something behind me. My whole outlook on playing around on the cabinets changed that instant. He was close enough I could smell him, that same clean scent I couldn't quite place. It sure did go nicely with the warm cinnamon scent from the pie. I took a deep breath and bit my lip to keep from leaning forward and biting him.

I watched him spoon a circle from the top of the crust, dig in for some of the filling, drag the bottom of the spoon across the rim of the dish. Yes, I had seen him do much more intimate things, but this move caught my attention like none other so far. Watching him handle the spoon so deftly reminded me of the way his hands felt on the back of my leg earlier; not really a delicate touch, just a very thoughtful touch. And of course, that was more than enough to summon up the last little bit of longing I'd managed to keep in check. When he held the spoon to my lips I could feel the heat emanating from the still warm fruit. I opened my mouth to accept his offering, fighting the urge to reach for his hands. My mouth was watering a little in anticipation of the tart peaches, and maybe other things. Then, he quoted Hamlet, at the very moment I was thinking the very same thing.

"Care to run the risk of being hoisted by your own petard?"

The mouthful of warm, gooey, just sweet enough pie kept me from having to answer him right away. It was surprisingly good. I was making mmm sounds before I even realized it. I reached up to wipe a little bit of filling that was sticking to my lips. I looked down at the glistening drop, thinking about holding my finger to his lips to let him taste from there.

Tell me what you think, will this get me done in? Or just done? Either way, I'm pretty sure I'm okay with it.

 

[downhomeguy]

When she opened her mouth, I slowly slipped the spoon between her lips. What I wouldn't give to be that spoon, I thought to myself as she closed her lips, eliciting a sound that I took to mean that the pie was good. A small drop caught on her lip, hanging on and glistening in the light. Go for it, stupid! Flip the spoon around and just reach for it with your finger! Just as I was trying to decide what I would do once I had removed it from her lips, her own finger swept it away.

As I stood their waiting to see what she would do with it, I began to think about what all had happened between the two of us in the last 24-hours. Everything seemed easily broken down into three spans of time: "The Viewing," "The Meeting," and now. Oddly, everything had happened in the wrong order...or at least insofar as the usual order of events was concerned. Then I thought about the sound that she had made when the spoonful of pie swept into her lips, and I wondered what it would take to elicit that sound again.

In a moment of boldness, I took a small step towards her and reached out with my empty hand. It's now or never, I thought to myself. Gently wrapping my fingers around hers, I slowly pulled her hand towards me. The drop of filling was still lingering on the pad of her forefinger, an amber-colored globule shining against the color of her skin. Carefully lifting her hand up, my eyes never breaking from hers, I guided her index finger to my lips and slowly slipped it between them. My tongue lifted off of the bottom of my mouth, wrapping around and cleaning the drop off of her finger. I couldn't tell much, considering the limited amount, but what I did taste was a sticky-sweet hint of peach. Even though I would need more than a single drop to discern the taste of the pie, the delivery system was tough to argue with. I wasn't even sure whether I was actually tasting the pie, or simply using it as an excuse to more thoroughly sample the skin that my hands had already been fortunate enough to feel.

Careful not to slobber all over her finger, I slipped it out of my mouth and swallowed. My hand stayed wrapped around hers, fingers together while my thumb brushed over the top. I wanted at least be able to sense any movement that she was about to snatch her hand away and replace it sharply across the side of my face. Considering all that had happened, though, I suspected that wouldn't be the case.

"Well, what's the verdict?"

 

[Sensual_Goddess]

At first I thought he must be trying to prevent me from making a sticky mess in his kitchen. Not that the small drop of pie filling glistening on my finger was enough to make a mess, really, but it was very sticky. And would be hard to spot on the neutral colored floor covering.

Then, instead of pulling my hand toward the sink, or reaching for a washcloth, he surprised me completely. I could tell from the look in his eyes he wasn't concerned about making a mess. Not in the kitchen, anyway.

All of the anticipation; what had seemed like days but in reality was barely 24 hours, was starting to ease. He guided my finger to his lips and then he was sucking that bit of filling into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around my finger tip and running it slowly across the sensitive surface. Yeah, that spot on my calf was on fire now. But it wasn't all that noticeable, because every nerve in my body was firing. I felt that touch from the top of my head to my toes. It ran dizzy circles in my head, down to my belly, between my thighs.

We stood there, for what seemed like such a long time, contemplating the next move. Our intentions were pretty clear, but neither of us seemed quite sure what we were supposed to do next. I had never had anyone lick pie of my finger. I was completely uninterested in dessert. How to get from standing here like this to where we both obviously wanted to go?

His grip on my hand was tentative but firm. I could have pulled away, but my brain wasn't getting much opportunity to make suggestions. I squeezed back, gently, dying to know what that hand was going to feel like on my face, my neck, running down my back, cupping my ass. No more ifs, just whens.

"Well, what's the verdict?"

Now I was searching my brain desperately for something sexy, or at least witty to say. For a moment, there was complete silence. "Oh, you want my input now?" from my pouting brain. "Well, forget it, you're on your own." Well, damn it.

The verdict? Guilty as charged. Guilty of undressing you in my mind, having my way with you over and over while I lick sweet sticky stuff off you. Oh, then we could break out the pie.

"It's still a little warm, I think it would probably melt the ice cream," I managed to to say.

I hoped he would take that as the suggestion I meant it for; let's give it time to cool off. I thought I should stand there and hold his hand until he came around to my way of thinking. I didn't expect it to take long.

 

[downhomeguy]

Throughout the entire ordeal, I never detected any hint of protest from her; I could even feel her hand gently squeezing back against mine. Taking that as a good sign, I took another half-step towards her. I was close enough to see her chest slowly easing in and out as she breathed, the definition of her toned neck as she looked up at me. Too bad that errant drop of syrup didn't end up there.

I was reminded again of how warm I was, more so that when we were sitting at the table. Maybe it was the entire apartment, or maybe it was the heat from the kitchen. Truthfully, it was probably a mixture of both, coupled with the heat that was radiating out from the center of my body.

"It's still a little warm, I think it would probably melt the ice cream."

That's as good of an excuse as any, I thought to myself. Although I wouldn't mind seeing it melt somewhere else. We could chase those errant rivulets of sticky goodness across each others bodies, wherever they wind up. Surely a tongue is good for cleaning off more than a finger.

I began to wonder if the scratch on her calf was still on her mind; I hadn't seen her reaching for it as she had earlier, but her hands had been otherwise occupied for much of the night. I would have to make sure and pay close attention to her when I felt it again...all in the name of science, of course, just as my attentive examination of her leg earlier had been for medical purposes.

Sliding the spoon onto the counter, I slipped my freed hand to her waist and curled my fingers to conform with her side. Making sure my hand landed where I intended it to afforded me a chance to take my eyes from hers and take a close-up look of the rest of her. Like me, she had chosen to dress rather unobtrusively. Her skirt didn't allow as much of a view as the shorts she had been wearing earlier, but I didn't mind. I hoped that before the night was over, I would be treated to the view that even the shorts had obstructed.

"So," I said, lifting her hand back to my lips and softly planting a kiss across her fingers. "What should we do while we wait?"

I was dying to know what her response would be. I needed to know that she was aching for me the same way that I was for her. As far as we had come, I had no doubt that she was at least feeling something...otherwise, why would she have bothered to show up for dinner?

 

[Sensual_Goddess]

Every sound was loud or distorted in my head. The spoon sliding across the cabinet sounded like two cars meeting in a fight for the same parking space; the metal scraping, banging against the concrete barriers. I was sure Carson could hear my heart thumping away in my chest. The dull roar of the blood coursing through my veins almost drowned out his question. All I could think of was how close he was standing, how much I was enjoying his touch, how much I wanted that kiss on my hand to lead to more kisses, and not on my hand.

What should we do while we wait?

I wanted to lean closer, it wouldn't have taken much, look up into his eyes and say, simply, kiss me. Let him take it from there.

Those two words were on the tip of my tongue, and my body was in agreement. That would be a great way to pass the time until dessert. Get to know those lips that were smiling softly, light pink, apart just slightly. I could see myself standing on my toes, tilting my face up, and closing my eyes at the moment we silently acknowledged that's what we both wanted. The light brush of his lips against the back of my hand had warmed me so that I could feel the back of my neck on fire, sending heat down my spine, all the way to my toes. The temperature in the room had to be contributing to the heat, but it wasn't anything like the fever I felt on the inside. The wine probably hadn't helped, either. Then, the scratch on my calf throbbed, and my brain took the opportunity to speak up. Oh god yes it's hot!! Get him to look at your leg, silly! It will be the perfect excuse to get him to the sofa, or, if you ask to see his apartment, you might even end up someplace better. You know that's what you really want!

"Why don't you give me the grand tour of your place, then I think you owe me one more look at my leg. I scratched it again on the way over here," I managed to get out. "Then you can decide how we're going to entertain each other until dessert."

I never wanted to let go of his hand, even if him holding it did seem to be rendering me somewhat speechless. Hadn't we talked enough, anyway?

 

[downhomeguy]

"Why don't you give me the grand tour of your place, then I think you owe me one more look at my leg. I scratched it again on the way over here. Then you can decide how we're going to entertain each other until dessert."

Again? If she thought it was going to take a second scratch to get my hands on those legs, she was wrong. As for entertainment, I had a few things in mind.

"Someone might think you were doing it on purpose," I said with a smile.

Stepping to the side and reluctantly letting my right arm slide off of her hip, I turned my left wrist so that I could keep her hand in mine. Instead of in front of her, though, my arm was around her waist with our hands at her side. Guiding her back by the table, I gestured towards the kitchen and dining area with my empty hand.

"Well, you've already seen the kitchen. Everything is pretty much the same as yours, with the exception of the furnishings."

But damn if that will stop me from giving you the "grand tour," I thought to myself as I walked her into the living room.

"This you've already seen...from one angle or another," I said with a smile. And maybe from a few more before the night is over.

As we walked through the living room towards the short hallway, I covertly reached up and thumbed down the thermostat a degree or two. It was a good thing I had done a bit of cleaning and picking-up earlier in the day. No papers, books or assorted articles of clothing lay scattered around, which was quite contrary to the "a bomb just went off" look that sometimes took over if I wasn't careful.

"Bathroom," I said, nodding towards the open door.

I could still smell the soap from my shower, lingering in the humid air around the door.

"And the most important room," for more than one reason, I thought, "the bedroom and closet."

It wasn't much...desk and computer, printer, a stack of books, bed, and a wicker hamper. A few of the pictures that there wasn't room for in the living room were on the walls, and some assorted storage boxes camouflaged under the bed. Because of the narrow doorframe, I took a half-step back and moved behind her. My empty hand came down on the hip that I wasn't already holding. Glancing down, I confirmed what she had already told me; there was a second scratch down the back of her calf, parallel and nearly the same length as the other one.

"It's not much, but it's all I really need."

 

[Sensual_Goddess]

Someone might think you were doing it on purpose..

"That someone being you, Carson?" I wanted to ask. But I let it go. More rhetorical questions and innuendo would just cloud the overtly direct signals we were lobbing at each other. Not that the play wasn't fun, but it was getting to be hot work. I could feel his hand on my back, not pushing, but certainly guiding. As he nodded toward the bathroom I got a nose full of what ever that soap was he used. The idea to say Hey, why don't we take a shower and cool off? passed through my mind as we passed the open door. I was going to have to identify that scent before I left. I might have to keep some around my own bathroom, if for no other reason than to make me feel like I did right now. The scratches on my calf throbbed again at the thought.

You can tell a lot about a person by the room they use for sleep. I took a quick inventory; everything neat and orderly. Nondescript pictures on the walls, nothing personal, nothing warm or feminine. Definitely a room put together without a female to make it cozy. Carson standing behind me with his hands on my hips was helping me see the potential for all sorts of heat in here, though. Sleep, yes, I could see him sleeping in here, with me curled up against his back, face to his neck, one leg tangled between his. All that from a quick glance around a room? His hands on me might have contributed a little.

I stood there a few moments, not sure how to proceed. I had lured him to the bedroom using the oldest ploy in the book. Of course I knew the layout of his apartment, that any tour would most likely end right here. There really wasn't a graceful way to back out, not that I had any desire to do so. He was standing so close I could feel his breath, tantalizingly close to my ear. If I leaned back, just a little and to my left...

"It's not much, but it's all I really need."

His voice was soft, his words right against my ear. What he said at first sounded nonchalant, but when I played it over in my mind, I could hear the edge. I wasn't sure if it was sadness, or bitterness, but there was something in his voice the words didn't reveal.

Sometimes we don't know what we need, until it slaps us in the face, or, in this case, wanders into our lives because of a misbehaving cat. Yes, I had been drawn in by the view across the courtyard, but I had been pulled in closer by something I couldn't put into words. Shane bringing us face to face in the courtyard was serendipity.

This moment was all about lust and attraction and wanting, but I was sure there would be more time to explore all of the other wonderful things about Carson once that wall got knocked down. That wall that kept us both from wanting to be the first to let go was built from trepidation, fear of being hurt.

"Oh, you may think this is all you need Carson, but what do you want?" I asked as I turned to face him.

I put my hands over his, so he wouldn't let go of me when I turned, then when I was sure he would hold on, I ran my hands up to his shoulders and looked him in the eye.

 

[downhomeguy]

"Oh, you may think this is all you need Carson, but what do you want?"

I felt her slip from under my grasp, then both of her hands covering mine as she slowly turned. My hands stayed in place, sliding around her waist until she was facing me, and both hands were again resting on her waist. Then, the feel of her fingers running up my chest and over my shoulders until her arms were elevated, a slight gap the only thing between us, almost as though we were preparing to dance. In a way, though, we had been dancing all afternoon.

What do I want? I think she knows what I want; it's the same thing every guy wants, in some way or another. This was different, though; somehow it just felt different. All that had happened in the last 24 hours suddenly felt less like a series of events and more like a pretext for something bigger. Had dinner been merely an observance of the proper social procedure, or was it a door leading from the outside to the inner sanctum of something different and unexpected, something grandiose? Don't know, don't care...at least not for the time being.

My chest felt like it was going to burst; my heart was beating so hard, it was though at any second it would thump out of my body and onto the floor. What DO I want?

"You."

Half of my brain had intended for me to say "You know what I want," but the other half immediately vetoed that and let me proceed with just the first word. It had suffered enough of the silly back-and-forth, the carefully ambiguous phrasings that I had relied on so far. No more philosopher.

Letting my hand brush upwards along her side, almost fearful of breaking the level of contact I had with her, I drew my thumb across her cheek. It was soft, smooth, and most importantly, real...nothing like the hallucination I had indulged in the night before, vivid though it may have been. Leaning down, I let my forehead gently brush against hers. My hand pulled her slightly closer, finally closing the minute gap between us. Turning my head slightly to the side, I paused, almost as if I expected us to breath the same air and have a major revelation. That won't do it, I thought to myself. But this will. Parting my lips, I slowly and softly kissed her. It was the final explosion that sent an avalanche coursing down my spine, spreading throughout every inch of my body and lighting me on fire. "And the angels rejoiced," somehow felt like the appropriate phrase for this kind of moment.

A slight groan welled up from deep inside of me, finally shattering everything that I had been keeping buried deep down. Like with my hands, I was fearful even of the mere thought of breaking our embrace; afraid that it would be the first and last time I would have the chance to feel her skin, to taste her lips, and to be completely connected with her.

 

[Sensual_Goddess]

"You."

Not the answer I was expecting, and not really what I was asking. I had meant it to be a deeper question, as in "what do you want out of life?" but his answer made me forget what I had wanted to ask. Now, all I wanted to do was play that back in my head a few times. What do you want? You. What do you want? You.T

hat was as clear as it was going to get. There was no reason to delve further, at least not right now. The dance was over, the playful innuendo was silent, replaced by his hand on my face and an expression in his eyes I identified, because I felt it too. Not exactly a tidal wave, though the sensation of getting pulled under was certainly close. More like a steady tug that kept me unsteady on my feet, but held me up at the same time.

When we were standing as close as we possibly could, his chest touching mine, toe to toe, he leaned down and it happened. His lips on my hand had been almost unbearable, but the first touch of his lips to mine was like every great kiss I had ever had, times infinity. I felt it in every cell, the sudden flood of emotion it caused almost brought tears, very happy tears. There would be others, I was sure of that, but I wanted to remember every detail of this moment; the way his lips gently parted mine, the tentative way his tongue brushed against my teeth before sliding across the surface of mine, the shiver down my spine that touched off the yearning I had been feeling from the moment I had laid eyes on him. If I had been a believer in magic, I would have chalked up the moment to some sort of mystical experience, a spell cast by a benevolent wizard or sorceress who knew that we both needed this release. Instead, I was just overwhelmingly thankful to whatever force had caused this moment to transpire.

His slight groan, warm and welcomed against my lips, was enough encouragement for me to wrap my arms around him tighter and run my fingers along the back of his neck. His bare flesh was warm beneath my hands, the hair that trailed from his scalp to just above his collar line tickled my fingertips as I traced slow circles in the short, slightly damp strands. If his hands had been in the same place on me, he would have felt the same sheen of sweat that had formed there on me; instead, he continued to hold me tightly around the waist. I wasn't going to complain. Yes, it was hot, but I could feel the cool air from the air conditioning vent blowing up my skirt and was grateful for it. I was hot all over, but that spot cold use cooling off more than the rest of my body.

I could sense his reluctance when I pulled away, but I put my hands on his face and kissed his forehead, to reassure him I wasn't going anywhere. At least not until after dessert, anyway. And I wasn't talking about pie and ice cream, either. That could wait.

"Since I want you, too, I think we can safely say we are both going to end up satisfied, at least for tonight, don't you think?" I asked, kissing his forehead again, then his nose, then his lips.

 

[downhomeguy]

The way our lips touched, brushing gently together as our tongues lightly felt and probed each other's mouth was like two halves of a whole coming together for the first time, the first fitting of two brand new puzzle pieces that had been predestined to meet. Maybe I didn't just want her...maybe I needed her. My body was aching for her the way that the human body craves food, or sleep. Kissing her was like drinking a glass of water to quench a dying thirst.

When she slowly pulled away from me, a pit settled in my stomach. It was instantly filled in again when she pulled her hands around to my face and gently kissed me on the forehead.

"Since I want you, too, I think we can safely say we are both going to end up satisfied, at least for tonight, don't you think?"

Everything that had happened so far had all led me to the conclusion that she was experiencing the same feelings for me that I was for her; but all of that was circumstantial. To hear her say I want you, too, finally proved to me once and for all that the feeling was mutual. At least for tonight? What the hell does that mean? The thinking man was back, but quickly shoved back into his hole where he was to remain silent.

Before I could answer, she left another trail of kisses down my face, ending back on my lips. I could still sense the feeling of her lips, as if they had been imprinted on my skin. I considered just moaning a response, a hasty "mm hmm" muffled by the seal our lips were forming. Instead, I pulled my lips away and brought them back down on her jaw. My hand slid from her cheek to the back of neck, mirroring her hands on me. The other slipped up from her waist, coming to rest in the small of her back.

"I think," I whispered, lightly kissing her jaw, "that satisfied," followed by another on the side of her neck, "might be an understatement."

I ended with another light peck on her collarbone, exposed slightly by the cut of her shirt, before retracing my path back to her lips.

"Maybe we should shift to somewhere more comfortable."

That was the problem with suppressing the thinking part of the brain...the remaining part couldn't come up with anything smarter than that, instead relying on one of the corniest lines in the book. I knew, though, that standing in the hallway would only be a viable option for so long. And besides, it wasn't as though I was using the line to put the moves on her...the move had pretty much been made already, if it could even be called that. Where we went didn't matter...anywhere in the apartment, or even to the ends of the earth as long as she was there.

 

[Sensual_Goddess]

That shower of soft kisses down my neck was making it difficult to not give in to the first choice my body was screaming for. You've got him all but in the bedroom, are you seriously going to cede this ground? No way! There was a place I wanted to visit first, though. The sofa. The place I had first laid eyes on him. That vision I had of him was too far away; I wanted a close up. I wanted to see him in that same light, but from the same side of the window. I felt a need to become part of that picture.

The only thing that felt better than when he kissed my neck down to my collar bone, was when he kissed back up my neck, to my lips. Every time there was a minute break in contact, those scratches on my calf throbbed in unison, trying to keep up with my heart. I was starting to forget to breathe between kisses, the slight hypoxia contributing to the euphoric rush I was chasing. I held on tight and gave in to it all, moaning his name against his cheek when he stopped for air.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd love to watch the sunset out your French doors," I said when I caught my breath.

And that was true, I did want to watch the sunset. But if lies of omission count, then I had told a big one. I also wanted to curl up next to him and kiss his neck like he had been kissing mine, watch the final rays of sun dance off his face, let my hands roam over his bare arms, maybe find their way beneath his shirt. I remembered the quick glimpse I'd gotten of that chest the day before, just enough to tease. The palms of my hands tingled in anticipation of the feel of his hair and made me want to bury my face there too.

Then, when the last of the sun was faded from view, that's when I wanted him to walk me to the bedroom with a real purpose, instead of my flimsy show me your place excuse. And what did I want after that? Well, I wanted to be with him. Not just fuck, not just get laid, though it might be hard to fight after all the hoops we had already put each other through on our way here, but be with him. Feel our bodies wrap up into one warm, okay hot mass of nerve cells all working in harmony for one reason only. The first time around, I think we can afford to just let completely go and follow nothing, except the groans and pleas, moans and cries that are sure to ensue.

I trailed my hands down his chest, resting them just below his shoulders. I took one hand in mine and brought it to my lips, kissing his palm, feeling his fingers on my face. I changed my grip so I could wrap my fingers between his and lead him back down the hall. When we got to the sofa, I slid off my shoes and sat, with my knees bent under me, leaving the end nearest the window for him. I looked over and saw my curtains were open, and smiled. I saw one panel shimmer and for a moment I panicked, was there someone in there? Then I saw a grey blur and realized it was just Shane. It looked like he had found something shiny to bat around. At least it wasn't another pair of my underwear, I didn't have any that were near that shiny.

"It looks like Shane is trying to entertain us from across the way; he hates to be left out," I said. "But tonight, he's the one who is going to have to be content to peek from the window, not me."

 

[downhomeguy]

"If it's all the same to you, I'd love to watch the sunset out your French doors."

I smiled, knowing immediately that to do that would mean sitting on the couch. It would mean returning to where all of this had started, which seemed fitting in a way. I felt her hand reaching for mine, drawing it over to her lips before intertwining her fingers with mine and starting back into the living room. It had been awhile since I had watched the sun set; sort of a shame, really, considering that my apartment was perfectly situated for it. Like a lot of things, though, people take the sun's habit of rising and setting every day for granted, rarely stopping to admire something that they can just as easily admire the next day, or the day after that. Eventually they realize that they've never done it at all, but by then its too late.

Taking her cue when we reached the couch, I moved to the end nearest the window and sat down. Instinctively I propped my feet up on the coffee table. It wasn't just something that I had done the night before, but a fairly regular habit of mine...although the notion that it was almost the same position that she had seen me in the night before was not lost on me.

"It looks like Shane is trying to entertain us from across the way; he hates to be left out. But tonight, he's the one who is going to have to be content to peek from the window, not me."

Angling my body slightly towards the window and moving my torso closer to her, I reached out and slipped my arm back around her waist. It was a shame the couch wasn't directly facing the courtyard; the way it was situated, I would have to more or less turn my back on her to look out over the dwindling rays of sun hanging in the sky. It was some comfort, though, to know that we weren't under some sort of time limit. She wasn't going to leave once the sun was gone, or at least I hoped not. If that were the case, I might have to say I would just watch the sun set the next day...but to do that would put me right back with the unappreciative masses.

Looking across the courtyard, I saw what she was talking about. I could see the curtains waving, almost as if a fan was blowing on them, and occasionally a flash of fur between or under them. Then it dawned on me that all of this...watching the sun and watching the curtains...was only possible because the blinds in my apartment were open. I would have to remember to close them if anything else happened on the couch. After all, there was no reason to take a second risk, no matter how well the first one (accident though it may have been) had turned out. My fingers, which had thus far been sitting motionless, started to move in small circles over her shirt.

"Well, at least you don't have to worry about him breaking anything," I said with a slight grin, hidden by the fact that my face was turned towards the window.

 

[Sensual_Goddess]

Late afternoon had always been my favorite part of the day, even before I had spied him across the courtyard yesterday. Now, sitting on the sofa beside him, his arm around my waist, my head on his shoulder, I found myself enamored even more with the time just before twilight. His head was turned away from me, but I could sense from the set of his jaw that he was smiling too. Watching the light fade away made me a little melancholy, simply because it had been such a good day. I was almost certain I would be feeling something else before the sun made a fresh appearance tomorrow morning.

I placed my hand on his chest and mimicked the circles he was tracing with his hand on my waist, occasionally letting my hand run a little further down to his abdomen, then back up to his chest. I could feel his heart beating against my face, sometimes speeding up when my hand traveled down his body. I was almost kicking myself for dragging him back out here when I had had him practically in the bedroom. But that need to fix that original image in my mind, to include me, had taken over. Now that we were here, how to get him back? Maybe if I kissed his neck, let my hand find that bare spot just below the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, maybe even toyed with the button?

My lips didn't wait for my brain to give permission. I snuggled in just a little closer and kissed him right at his collar, then ran my nose up and tickled him gently until I got to his ear. Then, I took a bite. Not hard, just enough to feel the flesh give between my teeth. When I felt him shiver against me, in response to the nibble, I felt empowered enough to taste further. First, I kissed his ear lobe, let my tongue run along the edge, then kissed behind his ear. That warm, slightly salty taste of his skin worked on those scratches on my calf. Electricity pulsed between my tongue, down my spine to that rough skin. I moaned softly and rested my forehead against his cheek as I absentmindedly fingered that ridge.

"I enjoyed sunset tonight more than I did last night, and that's saying quite a lot," I whispered between kisses and nibbles on his ear and neck.

The taste of him, just his neck and ears, was giving me courage to be more adventurous than I would normally. When my hand got down to his abdomen again, I pulled up slightly, just enough to pull the hem of his untucked purposely? shirt above the waistband of his pants. I wasn't quite brave enough to go straight for the prize, but I did want to put my hand on his bare skin. I moved my fingers up, up a little more, until I could feel the indentation of his navel with my thumb. That's where I chose to rub in circles, to match that maddeningly slow touch he was applying to me. My right arm was pressed against me, between us, worthless in my pursuit of more flesh to expose. I stretched away slightly and got my arm up over the one he had around me, rested my forearm against the back of his head, and ran my fingers through his hair, from his neck to almost his forehead, teasing the soft, short strands between my fingers. If he turned to face me, he would be eye level with my breasts. Isn't it great how some moves work out? I thought to myself as I applied a barely perceptible amount of pressure to the other side of his head with my arm. Not quite hugging him close, but encouraging him to go there, if he so desired.

 

[downhomeguy]

When her fingers started to rub my chest through my shirt, I could tell that they were moving in time to my fingers on her waist. Whether she was matching the rhythm on purpose didn't matter; all that mattered was that they were there. Each time her hand drifted down my body and over my stomach, I was convinced that she would continue further and further down. Instead, though, just as I thought she had reached a point of no return, her hand would slowly stop and change directions.

The feel of her hot breath on my neck was like the feeling of weightlessness that a person feels just after stepping off something high...you know what's about to happen, but you don't have enough time to prepare yourself for it. I inhaled slowly, trying to control my heart rate as she moved her lips up my neck and over my ear. When I felt her teeth gently close around my earlobe, I exhaled sharply. She responded by continuing to tease the side of my neck and surrounding skin, each kiss and nibble causing me to sink further and further into her.

"I enjoyed sunset tonight more than I did last night, and that's saying quite a lot."

Tell me about it. I was propped up in almost the exact same position as I had been the night before, only I wasn't alone. Unable to form a cohesive sentence, especially with the continued presence of her lips on my skin, I simply groaned in response. When I felt my shirt ride up, I assumed it had gotten caught between her hand and my torso; then I felt her fingertips on my bare skin, just above my belt, and realized that she had lifted it up on purpose. Each breath I took was slow and tedious, and I could feel her hand moving in circles as my chest and stomach rose and fell.

Turning my head slightly and coming face-to-face with her chest, I swallowed hard and began to immediately regret not being able to reach her with my free hand. Leaning forward, I gently pressed my lips against the skin above her shirt; dragging them upwards, I traced my way to the small indentation at the bottom of her throat. When I had gone as far as my neck would allow, I slowly pulled my feet off of the table and set the on the floor, using the leverage to sit up and turn my body towards her. I was careful enough to make sure that her hands never left me, and that my shift hadn't put pressure on any of her limbs. With my free arm, I reached over and placed my hand on her hip. Keeping my hand motionless, I spread out my fingers and lightly pressed them into her. Tilting my head, I tucked it into the spot where her shoulder gently curved upwards. Fight fire with fire, I thought to myself. Although not a literal fire, it felt like one was spreading from her finger tips into my scalp and torso, and meeting together in the middle.

Groaning into her neck as I kissed and sucked at her skin, my hand on her thigh began to slowly move up and down. What had begun in the hallway, just outside of the bedroom, turned out to be much better suited for the couch; it allowed us better access to each other in a much more comfortable setting.

 

[Sensual_Goddess]

That barely perceptible tuck; that extra rock back and forth as his head settled into the crook of my neck, sent a shiver through me. Yes, I am comfortable with you, enough to let down my guard and allow you to pull me closer. All that from one primitive reflex? Those are the ones we can't fight, so they are usually accurate. Even without my course in basic psychology, I think I would have recognized that. Just like my response to his change in position caused me to hold my hand on his abdomen still for fear that warm flesh would move from my reach. If he hadn't recognized the sigh of relief I breathed when his hand settled on me, my hand running softly back across his scalp and the trail of soft kisses I left in the wake had to tell him how content I was to sit here and enjoy the closeness as the shadows fell. Well, maybe not content, but certainly comfortable.

My hand, the one that had so nonchalantly worked its way under his shirt, rested still in that space between abdomen and chest. The gentle th-thump th-thump of his heart was steady against my palm. I could feel the heat, causing a faint sense of moisture, condensation, sweat to tease the surface of my already sensitive hand. If I moved, I could warm another spot. If I didn't, what would happen here? Would the heat stoke that fire, the one that was driving my sense of boldness, to new places? Or would I simply sit here and marvel at the way his pulse seemed to match mine so exactly? That spark that ignited every time his heart beat and sent the warm blood coursing through his body set off that burning ache in me; abdomen, groin, calf, nipples, the circuit repeated.

I had never been so comfortable just sitting and touching someone. And while I didn't want to break that comfortable silence, there were so many things I wanted to ask him, not all involved with just this moment. When I had asked him earlier what he wanted, his answer had derailed my train of thought. His response was so immediate and pointed: You. I was still curious about what he saw in his future, how far forward he dared to look? Me, I could never seem to get past more than a few months, maybe a semester before I started feeling too tied down. Was that because I was afraid of letting someone or something have more control than I was willing to relinquish? Or was I just too lazy to come up with a reasonable plan? Probably a little of both.

"So Carson," I whispered against his hair, letting a few strands brush my cheek as I rested my head against his. "Back to that question I asked in the hallway. What do you want, say, before morning?"

Perhaps some defined parameters around time were in order? I was prepared to share my answer to that same question, if he asked.

 

[downhomeguy]

If I hadn’t known for a fact that the air conditioner had been bumped down, and if I hadn’t been able to hear it purring in the background, I would have sworn it was broken. A drop of sweat ran down the back of my neck, avoiding her hand as it disappeared below my shirt. One hand continued to travel up and down her thigh, brushing over the material of her skirt while the other kept tracing small circles on her waist. The feel of her fingertips on my bare skin was like some sort of well-planned torture; it was hard enough to be perceptible, but only just, and it was certainly enough to cause a slight stirring in my loins.

My lips stayed glued to her neck and shoulder, lifting off just long enough to move over as I worked my way up and down. The sighs and occasional light moans that she emitted, as well as her continued presence on my neck, head and chest, was enough to tell me that she was enjoying it.

"Back to that question I asked in the hallway. What do you want, say, before morning?"

I had already silenced the thinking part of my brain, relying more on primitive instincts, but her question reignited the necessity for further thought. Despite the limited amount of time Brooke and I spent together, I felt like there was some sort of connection between us. What did I want before morning? Something transcendental, bounding beyond a physical connection and straying into the realm of a spiritual bond, maybe. Of course, the desire for a physical connection was there as well. I wanted to explore ever inch of her body that had eluded me so far, experience the feeling of our bodies intertwined, and ultimately hear her moan my name in a moment of fervent passion.

“I want to feel things I’ve never felt before,” I whispered, lightly kissing her neck again.

It was true that to some extent, I already had. The inferno building inside of me, coursing through my veins, was a little unnerving because of the fact that it was a new experience for me.

“To be truly happy. Even if it ends when the sun rises, I want to at least know what it feels like.”

I had been happy before I had met her…not “happy” in the sense of a brief feeling, but as a general contentment with the way my life was going. Now, though, I knew that I had been lacking true happiness. I was comforted by the knowledge that it had simply been a lack of understanding, rather than simply avoiding or failing to achieve such a state. Now that I had felt it, though, it would be hard to settle for anything less. And for the time being, I wasn't going to be happy without her next to me.

Reluctantly taking my hand from her waist, I reached up and brushed her hair to the side. Resting the heel of my hand against her cheek and lifting my head to look deep into her eyes, I leaned forward until our foreheads gently bumped together.

“What about you?

 

[Sensual_Goddess]

I want to feel things I’ve never felt before.

There was no veiled innuendo in his statement, at least not in the way I heard it. We had played word games for hours now, and I felt I could tell the difference. I didn't know what Carson had been through anymore than he knew my history. We hadn't gotten there. I had a feeling we might at some point, but this was not the moment.

I could certainly identify with that desire. I wanted to feel connected and close to someone; something I had never really felt until this moment. I had shied away from asking this very question in all of my relationships, fearful of the answer. I was still afraid; what if what he wanted was completely opposite of what I longed for? That's when I realized fear was the only thing keeping me from taking this where I wanted it to go. Fear of what? Rejection? That didn't seem to be a rational fear. His lips were burning into my flesh with every new kiss he planted on my neck. His warm breath caused that scratch on my leg to throb with a renewed heat every time his lips made contact. I didn't think either of us was in a position to say no, let's just stop right here and call it a night, shall we?

To be truly happy. Even if it ends when the sun rises, I want to at least know what it feels like.

Happy; such a subjective word. I was happy sitting here with him, enjoying the feel of his lips on my skin, the pressure of his hand on my body, the warmth we were sharing between us where we touched. The way he said it, to be truly happy, his expressed desire to know the sensation, made me want to somehow share what I felt with him.

See Carson, this is how truly happy feels. It feels like this. Your body resting against me, your warm touch, makes me happy. I could sit right here and never feel anything else and be so close to content. But I think I need a little more to be satisfied. I think it happens to coincide with what you might want, too.

I held his wrist softly when he reached for my hair. Something about that simple gesture got to me. Maybe it was the look in his eyes when our foreheads met. We were impossibly close, but still separated by a few more words.

What about you?

"Before I came over tonight, Carson, I wanted what any girl wants out of a dinner date, I suppose. A pleasant time with a handsome man, someone who sets a spark hot enough to ignite a little fire, see where it goes. I felt a connection, but I thought it was mainly physical, after last night and all the flirting today. The physical desire? Yes, it's still there, and growing by the second," I smiled and took a deep breath.

I don't think I had ever been this honest, shared this much with anyone. I was still a little afraid, but growing less and less so as he kept my gaze and didn't pull away from me. My heart was thumping away in my chest, and I felt my breaths escaping in shorter pants. I made myself slow down, and took a measured deep breath before I spoke again.

"But what I want most is to find "truly happy" with you. If even for only one minute, one hour, or one day, I think it could be amazing. That, Carson, is what I want."

I didn't give him a chance to respond before I kissed him. I was all talked out.

 

[downhomeguy]

There it was; I had expressed the most intimate desires of my soul, bared it all before her in response to a simple question. Hadn't that been what she was asking, though? If not, things could quickly begin to spiral downwards. Deep down, it was possible that I had intentionally given my answer with the knowledge that it could have serious consequences. If that were true, it could be for one reason only; deep down, I didn't want to be with anyone who couldn't satisfy my most inner cravings. After all, I had never been the type to intentionally cause ruin because of a fear of intimacy or commitment...or at least I didn't think I was.

As she reached gently for my hand, I thought for a brief moment that it would be to move it aside. Instead, though, she softly touched her fingertips to my wrist and held it against her.

"The physical desire? Yes, it's still there, and growing by the second."

The tingling sensation traveling from her fingertips, through every bone in my body confirmed as much on my end. The way she had phrased her statement made me suspect that there was a "But..." soon to follow. The most pessimistic part of me was convinced that it would be negative, but every sign told me that it would be positive. While I waited for it, I kept my eyes on hers and simply absorbed her beauty. I could feel her breath on my face, short bursts that coincided with the rise and fall of her chest.

"But what I want most is to find "truly happy" with you. If even for only one minute, one hour, or one day, I think it could be amazing. That, Carson, is what I want."

A minute would be spectacular, but a day would be heaven. As soon as her lips touched mine, I felt as though we had finally formed a much deeper connection than either of us had expected. The physical connection was obvious; she had professed its existence, and our behavior on the couch was more than enough to vouch for it. As for the emotional connection, a goal had been set...true happiness...and I had no doubt that it was within our grasp, both literally and figuratively. I continued to kiss her, one hand holding still on her cheek while the other continued to slide along her thigh.

Then, drunk on everything that I was feeling, I suddenly felt her bare skin beneath my mobile hand. In its passage up and down her thigh, my fingers had somehow worked their way under the hem of her shirt. Holding my palm still and slowly tracing circles with my fingers, I gently broke our kiss and swallowed hard.

"So...where do we go from here?"

Considering that the pursuit of true happiness was a new concept to me, I was unsure of how to proceed. I knew what I wanted to do...I wanted to stand up, lift her into my arms and carry her back across the path we had taken from the hallway to the couch until we reached the bedroom. But if we were both going to undertake the search for intense happiness, I knew that we would need to proceed with caution, and we would need to proceed together.

 

[Sensual_Goddess]

Capturing that elusive prize seemed totally possible the longer we sat there, tentatively exploring the physical aspects of what we had admitted we wanted. I don't know that I had ever felt so empowered by making my wants known, or that I had ever expressed them so openly to anyone. Every touch, every kiss, was like a stone in the path to that X marks the spot place on our map. The destination may be the goal, but the trip was every bit as important. It was a completely different way of considering things for a take-life-as-it-comes girl such as myself. I thought maybe it was for him, too. He confirmed my suspicions when he spoke again.

So...where do we go from here?

His hand, kept at bay by my sightly conservative clothing until now, rested on my bare skin. When had his fingers slipped in there? No matter. The more skin to skin contact there was, the happier I was going to be. I wanted to feel that heat on every inch of my body, and I wanted it more with every little circle his fingers traced on that palm sized bit of skin. I ached for the weight of his body holding me down, sinking into the indentations and dips that corresponded with his angles. But first, I wanted to savor this moment of uncertainty with him. Once we jumped off the cliff, the fall would take us where it wanted. The only choice we really had was in regards to that jump. When, more than where, was the question.

"We go where we think that happiness lies, don't we, Carson? If we want the moment, the answer is easy enough. We've been standing on that ledge all evening, really. I admit, and please know this is not easy for me, that I have been toying with you, trying to get you to be the one to make that first move. It's always easier to blame someone else for taking things too far, or not far enough."

That was the biggest admission I had ever made. I hoped against hope he wouldn't see me as a common manipulator, out to get him into bed. Of course I wanted to meet him beneath the sheets; oh, god how I wanted it, but I wanted so much more. I wanted to get inside his head and his heart too. In order to do that, I knew I had to be completely honest with him.

"I don't know where too far is with you. I do know that not far enough is sitting right here. Lead, follow, what does any of that matter? We both know we want more than what's gone on up to this minute. The only real question is what do we do about it? Do we keep coming up with reasons, or excuses, to delay that moment of gratification we've both had on our minds for all this time? Will waiting make a difference in our bigger quest for happiness?"

I was on a roll now, and didn't want to lose the momentum. I had arrived at a place that made me realize there was no point in going any further, if I wasn't willing to go all the way. This honesty stuff was almost exhilarating. Emboldened, I took a deep breath and finished.

"This damned scratch on my leg throbs like it's on fire at just the thought of you. From the moment I spied you across the courtyard, I've felt drawn to you. Sure, it could be all physical, but I don't think so. That last kiss said much more than that to me. Why don't you kiss me and let's see where it takes us? I'm in no hurry."

Instead of closing my eyes and leaning toward him, I kept them open and held his gaze. If I had ever wanted someone to kiss me as badly as I wanted him to kiss me right now, I couldn't remember the time. Sure, I wanted to hear what he had to say in response to my confession, but only after he had reassured me with that kiss.

 

[downhomeguy]

"I admit, and please know this is not easy for me, that I have been toying with you, trying to get you to be the one to make that first move. It's always easier to blame someone else for taking things too far, or not far enough."

Her confession affirmed what I had suspected. I certainly didn't hold any ill will against her for it; like she said, it was always easier to blame someone else. My fear of shouldering that very blame had made me cautious, always looking to her for some sort of concrete sign that what I was contemplating would be acceptable to her. Still, even "where do we go from here" was a query seeking her input into how we proceeded, all because I was reluctant to act without some sort of approval. Now, considering what was at stake, I was even more cautious.

"This damned scratch on my leg throbs like it's on fire at just the thought of you."

Just as I had observed, the scratch on her leg was like a link between us. Before any of the bonds we had were in their infancy, that single scratch had bound us together. It had been there at our first encounter, whether I was aware of her presence or not. It had been the entry point into what had developed between us, being the focal point of a single question: What happened to your leg? Had it not been for that single inquiry, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, we likely wouldn't be where we were now.

"Why don't you kiss me and let's see where it takes us? I'm in no hurry."

I was more than happy to oblige. I knew, though, that despite how incredibly deep all of our kisses had been so far, this one would be different. We were both talked out; all of the cards had been put on the table, and the only thing left was to embark on our mutual journey. This kiss would be the first step, and hopefully the first of many. Knowing that we both wanted it, I wasted no time in leaning forward and pressing my lips to hers. Despite having already been lucky enough to feel the touch of her lips, to witness the ebb and flow of our breath together as our tongues danced, it was still enough to make me feel dizzy. Such a feeling was almost necessary; it was akin to the feeling of stepping off of a ledge, or out of a plane, all in the search of something greater.

Shifting my body to face her, leaving my hands and lips in place while my legs angled off of the couch, I slowly leaned back and used my hold to pull her down with me until I was reclining back on the couch, still holding her close. While I was happy to sit next to her, the necessity to maintain my posture was just one more thing I didn't want to have to worry about. If I could direct that small bit of extra attention towards her, it would be more than worth it. My hand continued to slowly caress her side, eventually moving under her shirt to the small indentation in her lower back. Just as she had said of her own feelings, I wasn't in a hurry. But I hesitated to waste a single moment, knowing that it could be the difference between achieving a single second and an entire hour of true happiness...or, if I was spectacularly lucky, a whole day.

 

[Sensual_Goddess]

There was an almost imperceptible change of pressure when his lips met mine again. It was like a little air had gone out of an overfilled balloon, and now, while there was still a danger of rupture, it was from the outside, instead of from some internal force getting ready to blow at any second. Now my racing heart was a response to the giddy feeling that we were moving together, toward the same purpose, instead of from fear I might make a misstep.

His lips never left mine as he leaned back, slowly, taking me gently with him as he reclined. When he was resting against the arm of the sofa, I let one knee push between his and let my body weight rest against him. The warmth was expected; we had both probably been sweating in some of the very same places. But there was more than physical heat in this embrace. His hand on my back was as reassuring as it was arousing. The deeper the kiss, the more I felt the palm of his hand and the heat it generated.

I rested my hand on his chest, letting my fingers run short, feathery touches up and down his sternum, down to his navel, flattening my palm against him before working my fingers back up to his body again. The slightly rough nap of his shirt was making my fingertips feel slightly numb when I moved them, but the absence of sensation there was paid back through those scratches on my calf. I smiled to myself at the thoughts I'd had of getting to this point using those little abrasions. I might have imagined some of the physical sensations I was feeling now, but there had been no warning about the rest of what I felt lying here with him.

Eventually, because we humans are required to take in some oxygen from time to time, I leaned back and breathed deeply. His eyes were dreamy; there was no other word to describe them. I knew what he was thinking, or at least knew what he had told me he was thinking, and I had no reason to doubt his words. Those eyes, open and expecting, not demanding, just curious, and something else I couldn't quite make out. But it was good, I knew. I could tell from the way he held me close. It was almost as if he thought I would try to get away from him. There was no way that was going to happen, but I wasn't going to do anything to discourage that embrace.

Instead of kissing his lips this time, I rested my head against his shoulder and kissed his neck. Short, soft kisses up to his ear, a whispered oh, this is good, back to the collar bone, then another line of kisses. I eased my arm down his chest, under his, and rested my hand on the hem of his shirt again for a moment. When he exhaled, I slipped my hand upward, enough to reach his chest. I flattened my palm against the spot that thumped softly and felt the heat radiate, course through my veins, tie me closer to him. One circle completed, is what it felt like; one dizzying spin, the first of many to come.

 

[downhomeguy]

The weight of her body on top of me was a welcome reprieve for my hands; rather than use them to hold her close, I could instead let gravity perform that task for me while my hands sought out more of her. The air in the apartment felt heavier now than it had earlier; it was certainly warmer, there was no doubt about that. But there also seemed to be a pocket of lust, a cloud of longing that hung over us and thickened the air we were breathing.

When she lifted her head away from me, I sucked in a deep breath and gazed back into her eyes. Her lips carried a slight grin, the mark of deliberation, almost an "I know something you don't" smile. My hand continued to rest on her cheek, thumb slightly moving back and forth. When she leaned back down, I expected to feel the soft, passionate touch of her lips against mine. Instead, she continued past my head and to my exposed neck, then over to my ear, then repeated the path. My hand slipped from her cheek; not wanting to waist a free hand, I immediately placed it against her side. My first thought had been to move it around to the back of her neck; but I knew that the only reason to do that would be to gently guide her lips to the most sensitive parts of my neck and shoulder, and she was finding them on her own. It was almost as if she had a map of my torso and neck, marked with a series of X's: touch here, kiss here, and for the love of God don't forget here.

Stretching my head to the side so that she would have better access, I closed my eyes and breathed softly. Despite being aware of her hand on my chest, the fabric between us made it less than ideal. When she slipped under my shirt, I inhaled sharply in response to the feeling of her fingers traveling further than they had been. Instead of stopping at my stomach, she reached up to lightly caress my chest. The feeling of her palm on my bare skin, combined with her lips wandering up and down my shoulder and neck, elicited a quiet groan from my lips.

Looking over her shoulder, I could see her leg stretched out between mine. There, visible against her skin, were two scratches: one that I had been lucky enough to see up close, and the second that until now I had only heard about. I wished that my arm was long enough to reach it from where we were; I had no doubt that she could probably feel it throbbing, radiating heat, and I wanted to see her reaction when my fingers lightly traced the ridges running down her calf. Instead, I resigned myself to what I could reach.

Bending my wrist, I slipped more of my hand under her shirt and against her lower back. The heat radiating off of her skin was like a small fire, and I had no doubt that my chest was emitting an equal warmth against her palm. Craving more of that intense heat, I slipped my other hand down to join the other in a slow, roaming pattern under her soft shirt. I could feel her breath against my neck, blowing in short bursts along the same path that her lips were following; I knew that if there was ever going to be a moment I would freeze in time, it may very well be this one. Sure, there would likely be more to come, but this was the beginning. This moment was the start of it all, the Alpha, the beginning to something greater.

 

[Sensual_Goddess]

Of course I had been in similar positions; stretched out on a sofa, enjoying passionate caresses and playful kisses. But my heart had not been involved on this level before. Whenever his hands found skin as of yet untouched, I felt pulled in closer, almost like the undertow of the ocean, taking me a little further with every flicker of movement. Drowning? If this was what it felt like, then it must not be so bad.

He kept his head turned just to the side, facing not exactly away from me, but presenting all the delicious curves and indentations of his neck and shoulder. Occasionally, my nose would find his earlobe and be drawn to nuzzle there, that spot just behind where body heat, pulse, desire seemed to mix in a taste of him. It was hot, raw, something about the way the skin gave to my teeth that made every nerve in my body long to be able to experience it, envy my lips and tongue their dexterity and location. Every cell in my body craved that closeness.

His hands on my back were hot, just like my hand on his chest was burning. I ran my hand back down to where his shirt met his skin, and slipped my thumb out, resting it on the outside of the hem. Then, I slid that hand up, with just a little more pressure, until I had exposed that skin I had previously only been allowed to touch. Goosebumps rose as the cooler air touched the hot skin. Gingerly, I raised my head and kissed the uppermost exposed flesh, the tip of his sternum, reveled in the feeling of his skin on my lips. When there was no resistance, I kissed lower, making my way slowly to his abdomen, sliding down his body, encouraging his hands to stay connected to me, sliding my shirt up so I could feel more of him touching me.

When I got to his navel I kissed all around it slowly, licking the edges, tickling my nose in the soft hair that trailed from that indentation to where his pants blocked my path. I kissed along that ridge of skin, then started back up the way I had come, trying to kiss all the places I had missed on the way down. When I got to the top of his breastbone again, I rested my head on his shoulder and went back to work on his neck. The gentle thump of his carotid artery against my cheek was surprisingly even. My own pulse still felt like I had run a mile. I could feel it in that scratch. I could feel it all over.

 

[downhomeguy]

Her hand was like a feather, peeling my shirt up before I even knew what was happening. A shiver ran up my spine; whether or not it was the result of cool air hitting my chest, or the feel of her lips lightly making contact with my skin, it didn't matter. Each small kiss, preceded by her breath blowing over my skin, was like a shock of pleasure that was sucked into my body and carried throughout by my nerves. It wasn't enough, though; every inch of my body was begging for the same treatment, the same feeling of her gentle touch and the sensation of her carefully placed lips.

As she eased downwards, my hands slid up her back to caress skin that had thus far eluded my touch. As she retraced her steps, finally ending back at my neck, my mind began to whirr. If the rest of my body was going to receive the same treatment, to have its thirst for her embrace quenched, I had to do something.

I was perfectly happy to remain on the couch with her all night...even until the end of time, if it came to that. But I knew that the sofa's size was restricting our movement and, more importantly, our access to one another. Plus, there were more leaps that we were going to have to take if we aspired to reach our morning deadline. Slowly sitting up, reluctant to surrender even a trace of contact between us, I eased myself from under her and over the edge until I could plant my feet under me and stand up. In the process of moving out from underneath her body, I rolled her onto her back. Blame me for taking things too far if you want, I thought to myself. That's a risk I'm willing to take.

Bending over and reaching my hand down to her ankles, I slowly ran my hand along the back of her leg. Felling the tell-tale signs of the scratches running down her calf, I gingerly slid my fingertips along them until both of my hands rested behind her knees. Slipping my other hand under her back, where her skin remained exposed, I bent my knees and lifted her into my arms. Maybe it was cliche, but I didn't care. I wanted her in my arms, in some form or another, as quickly as I could manage it. Holding her close to me, I carefully stepped around the coffee table and towards the hallway. Retracing the steps we had taken from the bedroom door, I continued further than we had been.

Turning to align us with the doorway, I was careful to avoid the frame. She's banged up enough as it is. The last thing I need to do is knock her out cold on the door. Clearing the entry and venturing towards the bed, I placed her in a seated position on the edge. Keeping one hand gently behind her calf, I slipped the other around her waist and leaned down to kiss her. The room was darker than the living room, with the window facing a direction that failed to let in the fading light of the day. Breaking my lips from hers, I brushed them over her ear. My fingers continued to slip along her calf, eagerly searching for the ridges running along it.

"I hope you don't mind the change in venue," I whispered.

 

[Sensual_Goddess]

This trip down the hall was much more directed; not a flimsy excuse of wanting to see more, but a path to what we both knew we wanted. The weightless sensation I felt was more than his strong arms wrapped around me, though they had everything to do with that secure feeling I had as he cleared the doorway. When he bent to put me down on the bed I could have let go, but I didn't. This seated embrace, arms wrapped around each other, was somehow more intimate than the horizontal one on the sofa. Perhaps it was being in his room, on his bed, in the near darkness, that stoked the fire. His fingers brushed lightly against my calf, not accidentally, but like he was searching. The soft, yet deliberate touch sent that shudder I had started to grow accustomed to through my body.

I hope you don't mind the change in venue

"I tried to get you in here earlier, you know," I whispered back while I was enjoying the feel of his breath on my ear.

I wanted to look him in the eye so he could see my teasing smile and know I was only playing. But the gentle kisses he was placing on my ear were like magnets, and there was just no way I could be the one to pull away from that sensation. The rest of my body had suggestions, but I wasn't listening. I moaned softly and did my best to stay right where I was, to keep that perfect pressure steady against me. His hands, his mouth, even the thigh that rested against me were connected to the very center of me somehow.

His fingers were tracing pathways up and down, then circles, touching every inch of my bare calf except the thin rough ridge that ached to be in contact with him. When I couldn't stand it another second, I reached for his hand and gently placed it right on the place he was searching for; resting my fingertips over his fingers, guiding his touch to that sensitive skin.

"Oh, Carson, that's the spot," I sighed a his fingers made contact.

I left my fingers over his, so I could feel the electricity first hand. My nipples, hard against my shirt already, felt like they might burn right through the cloth separating us. The ache, low in my belly, spread to my thighs and caused me to grip him tighter, pull him closer to me. I could feel the heat rising between us, that heat that no amount of air conditioning was going to quench. I relaxed my back, letting his arm support me, while his other hand continued to tease along the roughness of that hot spot that would always belong to him. So very gradually, we started to recline together, and I bent my knee to allow him better access to that place I never wanted him to stop touching, unless it was another place on this new hot circuit. Any of those places would be just fine with me; I had no doubt he knew his way around.