Hands and Lips

Good evening, Beautiful One. You look stunning, as always, and every time you walk in the door and smile it feels like half my life just walked in. I return your smile, but hide this sudden obsession with tasting your throat. I press my lips against your cheek, just close enough to the edge of your lips to make you wonder.

I pause to fill my head with your scent. My heart feels like a choir of drums while a soft samba plays in the background.

I take your phone and switch it off, hold my finger to your lips to hush before you protest. Now your eyes scan the matt on the floor, covered with a soft, fresh sheet. Candles, incense and the oil is already warm.

Let’s get those clothes off you now. Yes, beautiful darling, you have to take off your bra and panties, too. You’ll enjoy your massage much more without them getting in the way.

Do you hear the soft gasp I utter on seeing you? Celestial and earthy all at once. You are fire and water. Earth and sky. When you move the air rushes to get out of your way.

Just lie on your stomach while I undress behind you. Only down to my boxer-briefs, though. I have luxurious work to do and I don't want to be distracted.

Comfortable Beautiful One?

That’s good. Just relax and let me take care of everything.

I take a wet cloth from a bowl of hot water. Careful, my love, it feels a little hot at first as I begin rubbing it over your feet. Okay? Not too hot? I dip it again to warm it up, wring it out and rub it up and down each of your smooth legs, all the way to that pert crease where buttock meets thigh.

I dip and wring out the towel again, warming it up to run it in firm passes over your spherical cheeks, up your spine and across your shoulders. Then I run a dry towel over you, gently patting your skin.

I drip warm oil over my palms and take your left foot in both hands. I roll and pull gently on your toes. Then press my thumbs into the ball of your foot, pressing one while releasing the other, repeating this along the arch, around the heel and around your ankles, then reversing, thumbing my way back until I have your toes between my oily fingers again.

Each foot, three or four passes up and down. I can't help but look at you from where I sit, following the fluid contour of your thighs to the impertinent swell of your buns, curving like two perfect sculptures.

I sigh too softly for you to hear when I roll my slippery thumbs along either side of your Achilles tendon, pressing upward and following the curve of your calf. I press and release my thumbs along your calves exactly as I did with the soles of your feet, but the muscle here is a little tense. As the tension begins to ebb, I repeat this motion up along the backs of your thighs.

Your skin is living silk. Touching you is a lifetime of Sundays.

I stop and dribble a warm line of oil along each leg, down the full length. I wrap both hands around your ankle, gripping firmly and pressing upward, keeping my hands in a circular grip as they roll upward and down along each calf.

You have no clue how sweet your deepening breath sounds. Your eyes are closed, but I can see the pleasure of relaxation on your face. It’s in that alluring curl of a half-smile on those perfect lips.

A little more oil now, Beautiful One, and then I repeat these motions up and down each of your smooth thighs. There's more muscle here, thicker muscle, and it needs more pressure to knead away the tension. My hands glide over your skin again and again.

You sigh as I grip each thigh the way I gripped your calves, but the grip is wider, more open, and my thumbs press into the bottom curve of your cheeks each time I reach the top.

You’re completely lost in your own world, completely unaware of how my cock grows hot and thick with desire. Oh, such sweet torture to resist rubbing myself against your body and let you feel my rigid heat, but that’s not what I want you to feel right now.

No, Beautiful One. This is a celebration of you.

The sides of my oily fingers brush against your lips. Oh, I hope it's not too sensitive, sweet darling. I'll be ever so careful. Oh, baby, yes I promise.

My heart stops at the slightest contact with your pussy. I go gently, but more often than I need to work the tension from your thighs. I keep going until I can feel a new dampness there I know is not the oil alone.

Finally, I just drag the tip of my finger slowly up the length of your pouting slit, gently over the little bud of your rim, barely peeking out from between your pliant cheeks. I can’t help teasing you a moment, letting you feel the tip of my finger test the resilience of your tiny ring.

Feeling a little mischievous, I slowly slide my finger up the length of your humid lips. Just enough pressure to smear my fingertip with your fresh, flowing honey. Then just a little light pressure against your rim once more, coating the tiny knot with your own wetness.

Just as I hear you begin to purr, I move astride your calves. My cock is so hard inside my clinging briefs, but I position myself to keep from touching you. I’m dripping so hard there’s a growing slick of precum staining the fabric trapping my straining shaft. You don't see me reach inside and give myself a playful stroke, slicking my own juices along the hard length of my flesh as I look at you lying beneath me,.

I don't know how much restraint I'm capable of, as I drip oil across the small of your back, over each mounded bun and a little way down each thigh. Then just a little more into my palms. I dig the heel of each hand into the meat of your thighs and press upward, bearing down with just enough weight. My hands dig and slide up your thighs and roll through the muscles of your cheeks.

I can't believe how astonishingly taut you are as I knead and spread your cheeks. I open you shamelessly as I work out the tension.

Breathe deeply, Beautiful One. I need to hear the song of your sighs. The soft chorus of mewling and whimpers.

I sense your aroma changing and it hardens me more. I just want to grind against your sumptuous ass, but I grit my teeth and hold back, keep working the heels of my hands over your resilient buns and upward toward the base of your spine. I dig the heels of my hands into those entrancing dimples and lean down on you. Release, lean, release.

My hands move in a fanning pattern up along your back. I scoot higher so I can reach your shoulders. My straining cock brushes briefly against the mound of your ass, but I don't grind against you as much as I'm dying to.

There is no pleasure for me without yours. I grind my hands into your back, spider my fingers through each and every muscle over and over until I feel them begin to yield and soften.

My throbbing hardness keeps brushing your buns as I work on your shoulders. You push your perky behind playfully upward, teasing me. I give you a playful spank, not enough to sting, but only to play the game, and call you a naughty girl. I roll my thumbs up and down your neck, no longer caring my hard cock is pressing against you now.

"Time for the front now, Beautiful One," I say softly, so close to your ear.

You roll over and view the state of my excitement with a dreamy smile. I push your knees upward and grip each thigh like before, but keeping your feet planted against the mat. Once more, with a hard, circular grip, I roll my hands downward.

I make no more pretense of letting the sides of my hands graze along your flushed pussy now. Your wetness keeps seeping out, coating your lips. Your little pouting fig almost seems demure, shy, but I have never seen anything so sweet or luscious in all my life.

Only through a Herculean will of restraint do I manage to finish working your thighs. I push them back down, but push your thighs a little wider than necessary. I want to see you. I want you fully open and fully relaxed. My hands graze more gently over your stomach, increasing the pressure along your ribs until they press up and over your breasts.

I drip more oil on my palms and knead across your breasts almost as firmly as I did your thighs. They're magnificent creations, and your nipples are thick, standing up like a pair of tiny thumbs.

I move to kneel above you and grip your breasts while my oily fingers fan back and forth across your nipples. I can almost feel them throb. I look down at your face, in awe of such a wonderful creation.

“What are you staring at?” you ask dreamily.

“What a woman is meant to look like,” I say.

You smile up at me, then close your eyes and sigh. I don't know how much time goes by as I continue drumming and tweezing your nipples. I roll them between my fingers and pull, just shy of pulling too hard, suddenly release them and let the blood flow back in.

There's a wet slick on my briefs over the tip of my aching shaft the size of a softball. My own juices are flowing as heavily as yours. I have to force myself to move on.

I move down between your thighs again. Push them open further. You open your eyes and look at me as though you almost wish I'd stop. Almost.

I can barely stand it and give in to the need to push off my briefs. My cock is so hard now it’s almost painful to contain. My aching shaft snaps free.

Kneeling between your open thighs, I moisten my hands with oil once more and stroke my length as you watch. I could be a runaway freight train, and yet that look on your face right now would paralyze me bashful.

“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “I just…”

“Poor thing,” you answer softly. “Why don’t you let me…”

“Don’t you dare move,” I admonish you.

Inwardly, I snicker at the idea of sliding my cock inside your wet, crimson pussy and having my way, but that’s a game for another time. Instead, I roll my oil coated thumbs along the little hollow at the top of each inner thigh that frame your core.

Both thumbs glide across your wet lips, tracing the vertical shape of your nether mouth. I let one dip briefly inside you, then move upward to caress the shape of your inflamed clit.

Your little blushing pearl is hard as a pebble and rolls under the back and forth grind of my thumb. I slide my finger inside you while massaging your nub. Just as you begin to arch and moan, I stop.

You look a little confused and I chuckle. I change position, lying between your thighs with my face poised at your fragrant aperture.

I inhale deeply, wanting to burn your body's perfume into my sense memory. I plant a tender, moist kiss on your clit, giving you a light flick of my tongue. I push your legs up high and cover your hot slit with my mouth, kissing you like it really is your mouth and pressing my tongue inside.

The taste of you makes me dizzy. I kiss harder, lick deeper, roll my thumb over your clit again and again and again. I push your legs even higher and plant a playful kiss on your bud, teasing your ring with the tip of my tongue.

I rear back a moment.

"My love," I say, "you have no earthly idea how beautiful you are from here. The under curves of your breasts, the heave of your deep breathing. Your nipples stand up like a pair of little sentinels. You're rare and magnificent and astonishing, and I'll cherish this vision until the day I die."

I enclose your swollen clit within my hungry lips. I suck at you and flutter my tongue against it at the same time. I push a finger inside you, gentle, rhythmic thrusts.

A few moments later I add a second finger and let my tongue explore the shape of your clit, once more around before gliding down along your slit, lapping at you around the steady thrust of my fingers. I almost chuckle again to see you reach for your own nipples and stimulate them while my lips and tongue and fingers explore and delve your honey-fresh core.

We can’t tell whether time stretches or shrinks, until you begin to grind back at my face, your clit exploding with sensation between my sucking lips and my fingers pumping into your sheath. My cock is throbbing with need, but your moaning cry of release is all I ever want to hear again.

When I feel your body begin to slacken, I slowly ease the pressure on your tender pussy. I want to adore it. Taste it. Feel it surround me, but I know you're going to be too tender now.

"That's it, Beautiful One. Lie back and catch your breath. Take your time. Come back to yourself when you're ready."

You stop my breath. I reach for the towel and wipe my hands, grit my teeth again and ignore my own throbbing. My cock is raging with need. You can feel the flesh touch you now as I move over you to place one long kiss full of tender hunger against your lips.

I place my fingers against your temples and rub gentle circles, lightly kissing your eyelids.

Your body arches up toward my cock as I move away, fading into the shadows between the candlelight.

"Go to your bath now, my beautiful one," I whisper. "Take your time. Touch yourself when you're ready. Your pussy feels so soft and beautiful. Celebrate this beautiful existence. Tease yourself until you’re wet again. Think of me. Ask yourself if I was really here. Ask yourself if I'm real. Ask me, and I'll tell you...I'll tell you everything."