There are times when all it takes is a deep kiss. With a deep kiss her arms go around my neck. They always do. They always have, sometimes with only a deep kiss. I look into her eyes now and we know the time is right. We kiss, slowly, softly.
And then, if I gently grasp her breast, taking her nipple in the vee between my fingers, stretching her breast upward gently, gently, until I know that she feels the tension it causes in her pussy, that’s when it happens. It always has happened, when I lift her breast. Tonight I have traced my fingers from her face, my fingertips lightly over her neck, her chest and then my hand takes her breast.
It is like a first orgasm for her, a petite one, the prelude to another that will come later. It is total capitulation, capitulation to the pleasure that has just crackled through her whole body. She has abandoned herself, left our day together behind, her thoughts, her memories, and now she is completely in her body’s pleasure. There is nothing more.
It is an uncontrollable contraction of her whole body. Her back arches. Her hips lift as if she needs to connect her pussy to the heavens. Her beautiful neck opens up as she throws her head back, but I follow her mouth, I maintain the kiss and press my weight down upon her arched body. She loads her lungs with air, sucking it in through her nose because my mouth is on hers. Her pleasure is mine, so I stay with her, joined, lips locked together. She moans from the pleasure, from the sudden lust, and I feel her moan in my mouth.
All this started with a with a deep kiss.
But maybe it hasn’t. Maybe all this has been building for us both for a much longer time. It may have started in the afternoon, or maybe the day before. Maybe it was our first coffee this morning, delivered to her with a light kiss.
Maybe it was yesterday, our hug in the afternoon, the warmth of her in my arms, and how she pressed herself against me. Was it a signal, the way her hips led her into our embrace?
Maybe it was the rose I bought for her as we strolled along the pedestrian mall. Our faces come close so that we enjoy the pleasure of the its scent together, close enough to kiss perhaps, but we didn’t, not in public. The momentary closeness, the idea of a kiss, maybe that was the beginning.
Or maybe it was the way she looked at me in the restaurant tonight, over her wine glass. She is so beautiful to me. In my mind I took a photograph of her beauty. The lighting in the dining room, dark, a small candle on the table rendering her in gold. The special moment after her glass was lifted, after it obscured most of her face, leaving just her eyes for me to see. My mental camera captured the moment, her sparkling eyes in the shadows. A snapshot of the moment, her enigmatic eyes. What was she thinking? What was she imagining? Was it this?
And now she moans again into my mouth, huffing and gasping through her nose. I won’t release her, not yet, because her capitulation is my trigger. My arousal flares hotly. I feel my hand more firmly on her breast, pressing against her lifted body. She moans again into my mouth.
I’m the one who breaks it. I must have her neck, must kiss her neck and chest ravenously. I feel her body fall back to the bed and her legs lift and spread until her feet are in the air. I kiss her breasts, her nipples already hard. I am devouring her.
Tonight she wants me right away. She draws my face up to hers again, grasps my body and places me between her legs. I kiss her hard again and feel her hips thrust up to me. I break the kiss. I have to have her eyes, the intensity of her eyes. We stare hotly into each others eyes, feeling the urgency.
Her hand snakes down between us to take my hardness and guide me to her pussy. My thrust is met by her rising hips. It is both penetration and envelopment at the same time. I am seared by the need for both. I am immersed in her hot wetness. I press against her hard, at the limit of depth but my body wants more of her. I hear her cry out, a gasp. Again her back arches and her head is thrown back.
I begin to move over her, steady and hard. It feels more urgent that usual, faster. I don’t want the pleasure to end, but I can’t stop myself. I thrust rhythmically, harder and faster. I feel our bodies start to glisten in the heat. I pound her, pound her and hear her, “Oh..oh..oh..” Soon she will come, soon, and I will come right after her.
My cellphone buzzes on the nightstand.
“Let it ring,” she says in desperation. I thrust one more time hard, then I stop.
I can’t let it ring. A loved one is gravely ill. This might be the call.
I remain deep inside her but reach for the phone. I push the button and start moving again inside her but slowly now.
“Hello?” I say into the phone.
“Hi Grandpa! It’s Ginny!”