100 Things I Love About You

"Hmmm, greedy girl," I think happily, smiling. I lower my mouth. As I am about to part my lips and experience my first taste of you, I feel your hands on the back of my head, gently yet insistently urging me forward. You want me to lick you, to place my mouth on you . . .

As my lips make contact I tilt my head so I can look up into your eyes. They are blue, so blue, and are shimmering in the growing light of dawn as our intermingled sighs and moans fill the room. My tongue pushes into you, lapping the moisture that has already escaped, thrilled to cause even more to flow. You groan when the tip of my tongue finds your clit.

"That's it, don't stop," you say, your voice husky, your fingers playing in my hair. You gasp when I slide my fingers deep inside you, and clamp my mouth firmly over your clit. Hungrily I devour you, my fingers playing inside, moving easily because you are so wet.

You writhe and moan in response to every move I make. You are getting close, and I take your hand in my free hand, entwining our fingers as you search for release, your need urgent now, as urgent as my eagerness to satisfy that release. And then you have it, and I have given it to you. Both our hungers have been fed. Bliss...

I leave my fingers inside of you, and move my body alongside your's until we are face to face. We snuggle close, inflamed passions fed as we begin to absorb what just happened. Your hair is damp from our efforts, and clings to your face. My face is slippery with your moisture. The mixed scent of our combined lust and sweat fills the air. The best perfume in the world.

"You are incredible," I whisper, kissing your face. You respond with that enigmatic slight smile that always makes my heart skip a beat, watching me with those blue, blue eyes.

"I want you to take your fingers out." You say, grinning mischievously. As I remove my fingers from your warm wetness you reach for my hand, bringing it to your mouth to taste... as your creamy legs entwine with mine. I wrap my arms around you and pull you tighter to me.

"Let me" you say, offering to return the pleasure. Yes, I want you to touch me as I touched you, and can see that you want to, but oddly now, I'm not sure I want it. It feels like the gift you have given me is enough. You have given me a taste of heaven, and I am content. You sense my uncertainty, your understanding showing on your face.

"I don't have time to go for a run now," you say with a slight laugh, and I smile, and shake my head, silently agreeing with you.

"Tomorrow morning it's your turn," you say. "After that, we're just friends."

I smile sadly, and nod. I know that you belong to another, and I don't want to diminish or disrespect that at all. You will let me have a taste of heaven, and I will be content. I love you even more for your wisdom and generosity.

I became aware of the world around me again. I was sitting alone in bed - my bed, in my home, not the one in your guest room. There was a smile on my face, I sighed, and thought about some of the things we really did during my visit. Alas, they had not included making love to you - but I can dream.

So these are my memories and my fantasies – my letter to you. My dreams of your hands cupping my face as you kiss my neck is as real as my need for you and the empty ache between my legs and in my heart. Memories, dreams and fantasies. Your gift to me.

Remember - fantasies or not, you will always own a piece of my heart.

J.

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I would like to thank three people who, without their help I would not have had the courage to submit this. Matriarch, Roxanne Appleby, and Colleen Thomas, thank you for adding value in your unique and amazing way. And thank you for being gentle with my first time.

And then, to Nirvanadragones: You are my inspiration for this story, Beautiful. I dedicate this to you. Happy birthday, Vana. I wish you and your J all the happiness that your love can bring.