Desperately Wanting

By L H

Published on Oct 14, 2001

Gay

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Note: I need to bring this to a more conclusive ending. Comments/suggestions would be appreciated: tendermidnight@yahoo.com.

You approach, vanquishing the distance between us with one step. My breath catches in my chest, only inches from your own. A sensation runs through my body, a tremble of uncertainty and excitement. Anticipation hangs as heavily as the humid summer air settling stickily on my skin.

Slowly your gentle eyes rise to meet mine, and before I know what's happened we are locked in a mesmerizing stare. Is that desire your beautiful brown eyes are so wide with, or am I only kidding myself? You part your sweet sensuous lips, as though to speak, then purse them again, then once again, part them, but still don't speak. I don't know what to say either and fear that words would break the mysticism of the moment.

This seems to be the deciding moment of the ambiguous relationship you and I have had up until now. For months we've teased and flirted, and gradually I've found myself thinking more and more frequently and fondly of you. But, not wanting to lose what we have, I've held my tongue, puzzling in private over things you've said and done. Things between us were always light, though, we were always laughing, which added to the inscrutability. Now this seems more serious as you stand before me; whatever is to be or not to be: it is not a joke. The only question remaining is who will make the first move. You do.

Very slowly, your eyes never leaving mine, you bring your hand up between us. Studying my face for a reaction, you delicately set your fingertips to rest on my breast, as though it were only a casual gesture, still not quite ready to commit. I gasp slightly at the tenderness of your touch and wonder if my face is betraying my sense of utter helplessness. Apparently it is because you smile a small but extremely satisfied smile. Then you lean towards me much more resolutely, curving one arm around my waist and pulling me towards you, with your other hand softly stroking my breast as our lips meet and melt together in gentle fusion.

My body thrills, my head spins, and I feel briefly as though I might faint if your arm was not supporting me. But then a powerful surge of electricity runs through me, bringing me new strength. I encircle you in my arms, responding more forcefully to your lips and tongue with my own. In response, your hands become more forceful too, matching the intensity of my desire. They quickly slide under my shirt all over my hungry skin.

I ease my lips off of yours and begin a soft shower of kisses all over your face and neck down to your chest. I stop for a moment and smell the succulent scent of your hair that's driven me wild so many times before, floral with a scent of fruit. Your long hair catches the sunlight just so. I return my lips to the nape of your neck. Your skin is smooth and velvety. I want more of it. My fingers ache to feel you, so I bring my hands up under your shirt and stroke your back. You are impatiently tugging at my bra, so I undo the clasp myself, and pull both my shirt and the bra off. I smile when I notice your eyes resting appreciatively on my breasts, but I am not diverted for long.

You hold up your arms, and I slide off your shirt, then reach around and unhook your bra. I catch a breath as it falls to the floor, revealing your half-naked body. Your lips reach mine and as we embrace our bodies are fused together, no longer separated by layers of clothing. My skin softly sinks into yours. Your nipples poke in just below my own. I return again to kissing your chest, and you sigh as I tentatively follow the curve of your breast with my lips. The sigh turns into a gasp as I bring my lips to your nipple, and after a slow kiss take the sensitive pink skin fully into my mouth.

Very lightly I bite your nipple as I tease it with the tip of my tongue. Then I kiss my way over to your other breast, whose nipple has already risen in anticipation. I bring my lips slowly to your body until they are just barely covering the circumference of your aureola, then I breathe out slowly and deeply. With a low moan, you pull my head towards your chest, so I quit the teasing and give this nipple the same direct treatment as the other. I don't know which is better, the impossible softness of your body, or the sound of your rich, melodious voice uttering monosyllables of pleasure.

I reluctantly raise my head from your breasts to catch my breath and think a minute. I always attach significance to things other people could just brush off as a roll in the hay. Falling in love too easily is definitely a problem I can't ignore. My body cries out in impatient indignation, but I force myself to resist touching you. You begin to reach for me, but then stop, noticing my expression. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" Your heavy breath begins to slow.

"I want you." I reply bluntly and urgently, wondering why my voice is a whisper. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anything. But...I'm so inexperienced. I've never jumped into anything like this, and I'm afraid as it is I have a tendency to get...emotionally attached?" As if I didn't already sound stupid enough, I punctuate the last sentence with a giggle, from nervousness and also a bad habit of literally laughing at myself.

Your smile is a mixture of affection and amusement. "Now, come on, you have nothing to be afraid of. You know I wouldn't hurt you. Ever. Do you honestly think I'm not 'emotionally attached' to you too?" At this, you stroke my cheek. I'm breathless at the softness of your hands and the deftness of your movements as I struggle to resist the urge to turn my head and take your finger into my mouth. "Of course we don't have to do this now though. If you're just nervous, maybe I could help. On the other hand, if you're really uncomfortable, maybe we should stop." You move behind me and begin to rub my neck as soothingly as you speak. I lean back, wanting to melt into you.

"I want this." I mumble breathily. "I want it now." And even though I realize I've stolen my phrase from spoiled eight-year-olds everywhere, I don't laugh this time.

You slide your hands down to my sides playfully tickling me. You lean over and your lips replace your hands' position on my neck. You move your hands to my abdomen and then slowly up, caressing my breasts with long, light strokes while your own breasts are pressing against my back as you lean into me. Another long stroke brings your hands down to my hips, and then the inside of my thighs. Again your light smooth touch glides up and down causing me to shudder with delight. I'm wearing loose shorts, enabling your hands to move slowly, softly, up up my thighs, until you reach the elastic of my underwear. You run your fingernail very lightly along the edge of it. Now my legs really do feel like they'll go out beneath me. "Not here...bed...bedroom? maybe? now?"

With a nod you take my hand and lead me down to the end of the hall. I follow behind you, my eyes on your smooth white back and also, I admit, on the generous curve of your ass moving from side to side as you walk, highlighted by the tight denim of your jeans.

We enter the bedroom. You turn to face me and put your hands on my hips just above the waistband of my low-riding shorts. Your hands, your amazing touch on this part of my body, sensitive and naked, causes my mouth to water. But my mouth is not the only part of my body that's wet right now. You pull me towards the bed, slowly moving your hands in circular motions on my hips as you do.

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