In This Fantasy

In my fantasy, your passion becomes subdued as you realize I am trembling.

"What's wrong, are you okay?" I relish the concern I see in your eyes mixing with the lust. That you can be so multidimensional and exposed is one of the things I love about you.

"I'm fine, I just…I've never been with a woman who reciprocated before." In my fantasy, I've wanted to be here for so long, I'm desperate for you not to back off, to pull away. I'm terrified as I make my declaration that you will. So many people don't want the responsibility of being anyone's first.

You smile, gently at first, then your lips curl in a smirk, the bottom one plumping and pushing against the ring there, and you let out that raspy chuckle that makes me tingle every time I hear it, the tones low and sultry.

"Try not to rent a U-haul," you say, and suddenly I am seeing ghosts of the past, another woman told me that once years ago, when I first realized my desire for you. I love that the lesbians I know are so confident in their lovemaking abilities. Then you lean in to kiss me, stoking the fire we had been building.

I feel your hand traveling from my jaw, down my neck, skimming over my shoulder to tickle the hairs on my arm. I close my eyes and give over to sensation. As I reach over to caress you, you grasp my hands and move them back to my sides.

"No," you say softly, though the insistence is clear, "let me show you what you missed out on all those other times. Later you can give, but for now just take." Your lips come back to mine, and the ball on the ring you wear tickles me. It's warm now, with the heat from both our mouths.

In my fantasy, this is the first time we've touched each other in this fashion, though we've wanted to so many times in the past. In this fantasy, I've come to you free of obligation and commitment, and you reward me by finally giving in.

Your hands have been roaming, and now they grasp the bottom of my t-shirt and tug it over my head. You're careful as you pull it past my ears, careful not to snag the long and bulky earrings I wear. You wear something quite similar, and I am touched that you take more care with me than you might with yourself. Once the shirt is off, you unsnap my bra and remove it as you gently force me to lean back into the cushions of the couch.

You kiss my lips again, then your mouth skims down my body, tickling my jaw, my neck, caressing my collarbone. Your hands manipulate my curves tenderly but with firm pressure. When your mouth finally reaches my nipple, already pert with the attention you have been giving me, hard with the anticipation of this experience; I can finally feel my breath increasing, deeper and shorter. One of your hands comes up to lift the weight of my breast, the other is rubbing circles on my ribcage.

As you change your attention to my other breast, your hand has moved from my ribcage to my hip, caressing it and then my thigh. I shift on the couch, my body communicating to you that I am already so desperate for more. Your hand stops moving and your mouth leaves my breast, you are now only teasing my nipple with the very tip of your tongue. I open my eyes and look down at you, your eyes are already looking at me, taunting me, your mouth curved in that devilish grin I love so much. You take my breath away.

You lean back, and maneuver so that you are on your knees between my legs. You are looking at me so intently, and the message in your eyes is clear. "This is it," they say.

I want to smile at you reassuringly; I want to say something, to tell you how much I want this. I can only gasp out, "Please".

You tip your head slightly, and your gaze softens. You look at me with comforting love, and I feel myself melt into you. Then you lean up and cup the side of my face with your hand, kissing my forehead gently. "It'll be okay," you mumble into my hair. I close my eyes and nod almost imperceptibly.

"Relax," you say, then brush your lips against mine before settling back down on your ankles. I feel you unbuckle my belt, the metal clanging loudly in sharp contrast to the silence of the room. I shiver a bit, as you unsnap the button and draw the zipper down. Then your hand is on my belly, fingers splayed, and you blow lightly on my belly button.

Your hands grasp the waistband of my pants, and you peel them off as I lift my hips. My panties are quick to follow, and then you tug off my socks, scratching at the patterns the elastic in them has left on my ankles. I draw in a quick breath at the pleasure that brings me, and find myself thankful that I long ago set up a routine of removing my shoes the moment I enter your place.

Your hands slide up my calves, then move around to my kneecaps. You gently push my thighs further apart as you lean in closer, your hands sitting warm on the seams betweens my legs and groin. You lower your head and kiss my hip bone, then you open your mouth and sink your teeth in with enough pressure to leave little marks, not enough to truly hurt. Then you drag your mouth down, never losing contact with my skin. You nuzzle my trimmed curls with your face, then slide lower.

In my fantasy, it seems time stands still in that moment. Your breath is warm against me as I wait for you to continue.

Finally, you place your lips lightly against me, then your thumbs stroke my labia before pulling me open to your attentions. With your tongue flattened, you stroke me. It feels as though your tongue can cover the entirety of me. I am already overwhelmed with the moist heat of your mouth against me.

Your lips and tongue are teasingly light now, and occasionally you nip at my kernel with your teeth, tugging at it before sucking it into your mouth. When you lips move lower and your tongue enters me, I let out my first whimper of pleasure. I gasp, then, as one of your hands has move to lay over my belly, your fingers spread over my uterus, and your thumb has moved down to stroke my clit lightly, your movements quick in contrast to the languid caress your tongue gives me lower.

In my fantasy, your mouth is so hot I feel as though you are burning me. Your breath is tickling, the soft short hairs on the sides of your head a delightful difference to the product-hardened spikes of your Mohawk as they tease at my thighs while you move.

I'm so tense now, and so close, I'm mumbling incoherent whimpers laced with soft pleases and gentle fuck, baby's. I finally open my eyes to see you, and your eyes are watching me as your tongue laps at me.

"Fuck me baby, please," I rasp out, my orgasm so close and as yet unreachable.

You move your tongue back to my clit, and enter me with a finger. I'm so wet from your attentions, but so very tight from the tension and the time since anyone's been where you are, that it hurts a little, even that one finger.

It strokes me gently, and you lift your mouth to say, "Relax. Just let it come."

I close my eyes and put my head back against the cushion, willing my breath to slow and my body to relax. It does, and I begin to swim in the murky depths of the pleasure you are giving me. Eventually, you are able to add more fingers, and I am rocking my hips against you. You put your other hand on my hip to keep my somewhat still, and your mouth returns to my clit. You suck it into your mouth and flick it up and down with your tongue.

Suddenly, my body is arching in pleasure, and it is so intense I am supporting my weight on only my head and my heels. My fantasy is over as I come back down. It is my hands between my legs, my body shuddering alone as the hot water from the shower pours over me. As my mind returns, my logic kicks in, and I find myself worried that you will see this obsession in my eyes the next time we are out, you and I, my husband and your partner.

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