She held her hand against his cheek, proving to herself that he was really there.

He opened his eyes.

They shared an excited smile under the sheets in her bedroom.

She realized that after staying up all night bantering and snuggling and marveling at being able to touch each other in person, they had fallen asleep with their clothes on.

He linked his bare toes with hers.

She was hungry. She craved a warm, sweet Danish.

As he awoke, he remembered dreaming about devouring a hot biscuit covered with American cheese.

She didn't know what to say, fearing if she spoke, the spell would be broken.

He kissed her nose, stroked her fluffy, dark mane, and whispered, "Good morn."

She wriggled into a position to wrap her arms around him.

He pulled their bodies closer together, his palms caressing her hips through her sweatpants.

She kissed his nose. Then she teased him about their shared morning breath.

They stared into each other's eyes.

Their lips met, soft at first, testing, teasing. Their tongues tasting, tickling.

He exhaled as he lowered his back onto the mattress. He scooped her onto his torso.

She adjusted the pillow under his head as she climbed on top of him, her knees straddling his waist.

He permitted his fingers to explore under her tank top.

Her hips started grinding, shaking her tail left and right.

He was overcome with the sensations of his wildest dream come true.

She unbuttoned the top of his pants and clawed at his zipper.

He wrapped his fingers around hers and halted her progress.

She wondered if she had done something wrong.

He reminded her there was no rush between them, no obligation for their first time.

She stopped her movements and asked him how she could please him.

He grinned and told her that ladies come first.

She sat back. 

He rose up and pounced, eliciting giggles from both of them.

She felt his hands roam across her stomach.

He tugged her gray pants down her thighs, exposing her pink underwear.

She undid a button on his shirt.

He yanked his shirt off and thumped his chest, dusted with yellow hairs, making her laugh.

She guided his fingers to her hips and lay back.

He massaged her inner thighs, building the heat, encouraging the wet spot on her panties to spread, the slickness oozing onto his knuckles.

She gripped the sheets.

His thumb pressing her nub. 

Her calves shook with a premature climax.

She spread her arms on the bed, delighted by his ministrations, yet thirsty for more.

Parched himself, he drew her panties to the side and lapped at her juices.

Another wave of pleasure rippled through her core, resulting in a growl and a hearty squirt.

With a drenched face, he told her that his pants were feeling tight.

She told him that the condoms were in the bottom drawer.

In a flash, they completely disrobed, wrapped up the package, and hugged each other with every fiber of their beings.

They rolled around, panting, chortling, pawing each other’s bodies, enjoying the friction generated by their playfulness.

And then they fit together.

He rotated so she could ride him, her bare breasts bouncing above his lips.

She felt her walls expanding to welcome his full staff.

He remembered that her clit need to be rubbed.

She pushed any potential consequences of their coupling on this plane out of her mind, and she released herself into the intoxication of their encounter.

Any thoughts except for the sumptuous woman who was currently dominating his dick had left his mind long ago.

She roared through her third climax, overcome by the energy radiating in the room.

He continued pumping, inducing repeated tremors from her limbs, until finally, she kissed him, tenderly, unable to mask her authentic emotions. 

She crumpled onto his chest as he erupted inside of her, his pent up desire free at last.

...

Tangled in the damp covers of their afterglow, she looked out the window and told him it felt like time stopped.

He proffered that maybe it had, solely as a gift from the universe for the two of them to meet.

She would gladly accept that gift again and again, she murmured, petting his shaft.

Their lips met with pride, as they luxuriated in their reciprocal satisfaction.

He wondered how they got there, whether it would disappear, and what they could do to recreate this moment.

She reminded him that she was the overthinker, and he was the one who told her to live in the now.

He declared that if now was all they had, he would revel in their union to the fullest.

She compared their kinship to a lion: powerful, beautiful, and difficult to control. But it scared her to describe it that way.

He asked why she was afraid.

She averted her eyes as she told him she wasn't sure that she deserved the happiness derived from their complex connection. Moreover, she was unsure that the feeling was mutual.

He bravely said the words first. "We have a lion."

She summoned the courage to admit their truth. "We have a lion."

He dreamed about a reality in which he had enough stamina to sustain their coupling.

She was proud that for a flash, for an instant, they had allowed their souls to meet, without fear, and they had dared to burn so bright.