Emily

She walks towards me, her eyes pregnant with desire. As she passes me, her hand caresses my cheek, and there is such warmth, such unspeakable love in that gentle touch that my knees go weak. 

Her hand traces down my arm until she is holding my hand and our fingers intertwine. Wordlessly, she bids me follow her. We walk in silence up to our room. No words are needed. In the sanctity of our room, she cups my face with both her hands and I see tears brimming in her eyes. Her mouth moves, but she can barely get the words out, so utterly filled with emotion is she. “You’re …you’re my world…my life…my soul.” She leans in and kisses me. This is no wide-mouthed, dancing tongues kiss of lust. This is pure love. Yes, our tongues meet, but they too seem to caress one another. 

She pulls my body gently to hers and I feel her breasts upon mine, her tummy against mine, and her mound against mine. Thighs, knees…every point of contact feels perfect. We break our kissing and my head rests on her shoulder. I realise that I too and crying softly. Her fingers find the zipper of my dress and with almost painful slowness, tooth-by-tooth, she undoes it, eases it from my shoulders until it falls in a crumpled heap around my feet. 

I do the same with hers, and now we hug, with only our panties between us. Already the aroma of sex pervades the room. I know her scent so well, and I know my own. This is something different. It is like our intimate scents are also hugging, caressing, intertwining. Briefly, my mind scans my body. My breasts are so hard they hurt, and my panties are full. Terribly full. But then, I know so too are hers. 

We move effortlessly to the bed, and she lays me down on it. I feel …. What do I feel? I realise I feel almost virginal! Emily climbs up on the bed beside me and kisses me again. This time, she kisses lower…my chin, my throat, my chest, each breast in turn, and when her attention turns to my nipples, I feel myself almost gushing between my legs. She kisses my tummy and eases my panties down as she goes until I lie naked before her. Gently, she parts my legs and begins the return journey. By the time she reaches my sex, I am almost crying out for her touch. 

Her tongue snakes up my labia, scooping up the dew of my love as it goes. She finds my clit and worships it. A gentle finger enters me, and I bear down upon it. This is no frenzied lust-filled fucking. This is a conjoining of mind, body and soil at a cellular level. 

There is movement, and suddenly, her sex is over my face. Some call it a ‘wound’, or a ‘gash’, but what I’m looking at now is unspeakably beautiful. I raise my head from my pillow to drown in her scent and to taste the sweet benediction of her love for me in an act of perfect communion. 

Orgasm seems so inconsequential. It doesn’t matter to either of us whether or not we cum. We do, of course, but the rise to the pinnacle is gentle, like softly inflating a balloon until simultaneously we cum in one another’s mouths. I feel every contraction of her vagina. I see her perineum move and the soft, puckered flesh or her secret entrance twitch. She pours into my mouth, and I swallow her. 

Afterwards, she lies by my side entwined in my arms. We both smell of sex and sweat, but we are with one another, and that is all that matters. 

We both ‘play away’. We both have sex for erotic purposes, but this couldn’t be further from that. We have used restraints, whips, dildos, strap-ons. We have made one another scream in orgasm, but this….this is so much more. So personal, so…..intimate. 

Emily…my life…my love.