Monday, September 25, 2017

Short Story: And You're Welcome

I propped my head upwards and laid on my side, watching you as you laid on my pillow, sound asleep, probably too tired from what we've done together tonight. I observed as each breath of air entered and exited you, your breasts rising and falling under the light of the rising sun, the dim light illuminating your nakedness.

I raised my hand to stroke your hair, soft and thin, much unlike my own thick and wavy hair. You did not stir, and you seem like a statue, a mannequin for me to appreciate to my heart's content. Your face was warm to the touch of my cold hands, the residue of a blusher put on by unskilled hands. Yet there was a beauty there, a beauty in imperfection, one that reminded me of my youth and innocence so very long ago.

I leaned in to take in the scent of your shampoo, the floral scent delightful to my nose, a warm and homely smell that laid on my pillow. I sunk my head into your hair, each breath deeper than the last, as if I was trying to breathe you into me.

My hand continued to caress you lightly, holding your head in my hands, protectively. I followed the curve of your cheekbones to come to the nape of your neck, brushing my thumb against your jawline as I went lower.

I planted a kiss on your forehead, and yet you did not stir, save for the rising and falling of your chest within each breath of air you take.

My hands reached your collarbone, which was visible under your skin due to how skinny you were. It seemed a little absurd, really, that despite how skinny you were, you had shapely round breasts. Not as big as other girls, I suppose, yet they were large for someone as slim as you were. Better yet, they moulded perfectly into my hands, which I just did.

I felt the soft and tender flesh under my fingertips, and my hand followed up and down with each time you inhaled and exhaled. With the stimulation, I felt your body shift a little, perhaps you were at the edge of coming back to reality.

I propped myself up, lowering my head to your breasts. I let my long hair fall on you, the tips grazing against your skin as I went lower. I looked up close at your nipples, a pair of protrusions that looked almost different in almost every girl, as far as I know. Yet all of them reacted the same way, this I know.

Bringing my lips to your breasts, I stuck out my tongue and gave your nipple a lick, tasting you, taking in your feminine scent. I lowered my mouth to cover your nipple, swirling the brown tip in my mouth with my tongue, gently and slowly, much unlike how guys would often turn into savages when they do so. After all, I'm not in a rush, and your pleasure is all mine.

I hear your moan rumble through your chest with my mouth upon your breasts, an unsure squeak, a gentle whimper. I teased you a little with my tongue, going up and down your nipple, flicking it within my mouth. I gave your nipple a gentle suction, all while moving my hands all over your torso, slowly rousing you.

I feel your hands on my head, unsure hands that patted my hair. I turned my head upwards, gazing past my fringe at your puppy eyes looking down right at me. You smiled a weak smile to say good morning, and I simply smiled back in reply, because no words were needed.

I returned to my task at hand, leaving a trail of kisses around your breasts, slowly moving back upwards. I held your soft mounds in my hands, massaging them, from time to time giving your nipples the much-needed attention.

I kissed my way upwards to your neck, leaving suction across your bare skin. You arched your back and moaned from the sensation, my soft lips upon your sensitive region. I twiddled your hardening nipples, feeling your heart beat fast against my body.

With my knee, I felt for the region between your legs. In an effort to intensify your arousal, I pressed against you, allowing you to grind your vagina against my thighs. I felt the moistness of your arousal, the wetness spreading across my leg.

I broke away from kissing your neck to admire you once more, observing how you just lay there with expectant eyes, your breasts heaving with each quickened breath of air that rushed through you. Your cheeks were flush, forehead glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Most of all, you looked young and demure, a look I appreciated. Somehow, it felt like I was taking away your virginity, your very first love.

I got up and proceeded to the kitchen, still fully in the nude. Most of my family members don’t wake up till past 9am anyway, and the sky is only just lightening up to the morning sun. I placed a frying pan on the stove and turned on the heat, drizzling a bit of olive oil onto the pan. Breakfast for two, it seems.

You came after me, standing in the doorway, wearing my shirt from the night before. While it may be more of a girlfriend tee than a boyfriend tee, I felt that it still looked cute. Oh how you must have marvelled at how confident I was naked, watching as I hurried around the kitchen. I cracked eggs into two distinct sides of the pan and turned the fire low, letting the eggs slowly cook.

I went over to you, as naked as I was, and hugged you around your waist. I gave you a light peck on your lips, savouring your sweet morning breath. Easily, I lifted you and pushed you against the countertop beside my stove. Well, I guess I can have a little breakfast appetiser. I smiled as I went down on you once more, my hands spreading apart your thighs upon my countertop.

You shut your eyes in anticipation, letting me do what I wanted to do. It felt like you were a willing pet, obedient to my wordless commands. I bent forward, my hair grazing your inner thighs, causing you to sigh breathlessly above me, enjoying the sensation of me between your legs.

I lifted my own shirt high enough to bare your bellybutton, viewing your private mounds and the untamed patch of hair above your lady parts. I placed my cheek against your belly, feeling you tense up beside me, not knowing what I would do next.

The eggs continued to sizzle even as a different form of heat filled the kitchen, the aroma of cooked eggs and your arousal mixed together in one. I kissed downwards and you leaned back, exposing more of your vagina to me, your vulnerability and most treasured possession, one which I owned just overnight.

Your lips were already moist in expectation, your clit poking out a little, screaming for my attention. My tongue went onto your vagina lips, going from one side to the other, licking up and down, up and down, and up and down again. I taste you on my tongue, your sweet innocence, a sweet delight to me.

I feel your breathing get quicker above me, yet I had to distract myself once more. I moved myself to the pan, flipping both omelettes, looking at you all the while. How adorable and lovely you looked, like a little flower sitting upon my kitchen countertop. Your cute eyes staring right at me with longing, longing for me to hold you, to make you mine.

Easily, I flipped both eggs onto plates that I set aside earlier, and I returned to you once more. You tried to hold my face in your hands, as romantically and as sensually as I have held you so many times before that night. I knew, deep within, that the touch of a girl like me would be so much different from all the guys that you have had, their roughness, the selfishness, their need for ego and satisfaction and sex, more often than not leaving us girls unsatisfied.

I held you again, and you leaned onto my shoulder, hugging me tightly like a little girl, as if I would leave at any moment. I smiled, a smile that you could not see, but I felt bliss in that moment. I slithered my hand downwards to your vagina once more, feeling your moist privates.

I slipped my fingers into you, feeling your tender flesh and soft insides. I thought you couldn’t hold me tighter, but you did as I started to move my fingers inside you, swirling and bending my finger in the ‘come here’ sign, massaging your sweet and sensitive spots. You moaned beside me ear, a sound that I have come to get used to during the night of love making.

Faster and faster my fingers went, and then I felt it. Your tightening insides and a warm gush of liquid hitting the palm of my right hand. I felt your body tense up and your weight fell upon me to support, as you lost control of your muscles. You stopped breathing for a moment as you feel the ecstasy flow through you, the first orgasm of the morning.

I left my fingers within you, feeling the spasms come and go inside, till it subsided to a mild throbbing within. I held you at arm’s length and smiled at you, my usual warm smile. I eased you into the wooden chair that sat beside my dining table, allowing you to catch your breath as I served you your breakfast and a cup of warm milk to chase the cold of the night away. Not that it was cold last night though.

Beside the well-done omelettes that were beside you, you look kind of dishevelled, your hair in a mess and your breaths still coming short. Yet you looked at me, your eyes seemingly in a trance, a look of a lost puppy, now found and well-loved. Despite the tiredness of the night and the intensity of the orgasm that I just delivered to you, I feel that you still look beautiful.

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