The heat in my cock hasn’t diminished and your hand still grips me there.

You shift slightly in the bed as if sensing my wakefulness. My arm is still across your shoulder. With your free hand, you guide my fingers to your breast. Your hand over mine you encourage me to explore.

Are you awake? Or, are you dreaming? A deep sigh and your body shifts again. You grip me tighter. My cock pulses in your hand with a life of its own. You release me. Disappointment floods through my body. Moments later you grind against me and my cock rests between the two soft mounds of your hot little ass. Are you awake? My hand releases your breast and slides down over the black silk which still covers your tummy. Your tummy button is there waiting, un-kissed. My hand pauses over the indentation in the fabric where that long dreamed of button lies in wait. I remember. I don’t want to break the spell so I let my hand drift further down. Your night gown has shifted upward in your sleep and my fingers encounter the elastic and the texture of your panties. I hesitate. Have I gone too far? Your body answers my question as your ass grinds against my cock with greater urgency. I can feel the heat between your legs. My fingers tentatively explore over the fabric of your panties and still your ass grinds against me. Are you awake? As my fingers probe your most secret place, I feel the wetness begin to seep through the fabric. Your body is awake. Wide awake. Your body is speaking to me of desire, and passion, and heat. My fingers slip beneath the fabric stroking through the crisp hair which surrounds the cleft which is you. Your centre. And I find the softness of the lips which fold over the opening to your soul. You gasp. Your body shudders. Not a word escapes your lips. And your ass presses harder still against my cock.

A Chinese word. I don't understand. Could you be saying, “Oh God”? Could it be “Stop”? I hesitate but your hand flies down to mine, covering it and you stroke yourself with my fingers. The little button, like a tiny cock, pulsates, rises, demands attention. And when I touch you again, your juices flow freely over my fingers. “My mouth is dry,” you murmur. “Do you want water?” “No, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” Your knees part slightly in invitation. I hook the waistband of your panties with my fingers and begin to slide them down over your legs. You lift your hips to help and in a moment of impatience you strip them down to your ankles yourself. Now I want you naked. Completely naked. I grasp the hem of your nightie and pull upward. You sit up, raise your arms and the nightie slips over your head and is gone. And suddenly, in the pale light from the window, I see you. White skin. The soft little mounds of your breasts. Your nipples, taught, erect. Your tummy button. And the dark shadow between your thighs. You want to cover yourself but I gently hold your arms away from your body. I want to see. For a moment you are bold and you let your arms drop to your sides. Your eyes search mine as I stare. But shyness takes you again. Your eyes drop and your arms once again cross in front, hiding the beauty that was before me moments ago. I lie back on the pillows and pull you to me and you lie across my chest. I pull the blankets over you to keep you warm and hold you to me, all the time aware of your absolute nakedness. And my hands stoke your neck and your back and your ass. Gently. And you sigh. And you sleep again. Tonight you will sleep in my arms. Tonight I will hold you and stroke your body. Tonight you will feel my hardness against you. But not inside you. Not yet. Not until you want me.