Afternoon Delight

I had no idea how two women had sex although I’d thought about it often despite subconscious protests. My interest was curious and quite innocent at first, although years later I would eventually taste the nectar that quenched my thirst. The first time I made love was the end of July 1997 at the Hilton Towers downtown Chicago. My clothes were spread out in various places on the floor and in positions that resembled making love while undressing. We laid in bed together, no panties or bra and the covers had long since been thrown off. The bed sheet prevented us from showing all of our nakedness, but what we couldn’t see with eyes we could just as easily feel with hands. And naughty thoughts and naughty bits. 

 I remember the sunlight streaming into the room and it’s one of the reasons that for so long I preferred making love with the lights on rather than off.  Since the first time I resigned myself to never missing a thing when it came to intimacy. Even if that feeling wasn’t directed onto me and so I studied her reactions to everything. Tori Amos was singing from Under The Pink, the CD played at the perfect volume and her sultry sentiments gave our bodies way. The light from the sun tossed itself at the window and I thought I could hear a light groan from nearby. That’s when I felt her breasts against my back and her arms covering my waist and then my stomach where she lingered and my yearnings were swayed. There I laid, in bed with another woman after making love for the first time in 18 years. I drifted in and out of wanting and needing and not having gotten enough of her answers to my pleading.

 She was feminine and womanly and wore red lipstick that made me want to nibble her neck until I could no longer resist lips. But I was far too shy to preempt such a thing, plus she loved taking the lead and I needed her to.  She exhausted me mentally, sexually and I felt heavy and drugged, overdosing on pleasure-filled contraptions that were still entangling my body in enrapturing. I listened to her breathing as she lay against me and then I heard her ask, “So what did you think?” There were no words to describe what I thought so I laid there and said absolutely nothing at all. I felt a distinct quivering in the pit of my stomach when I thought of all the things she’d just done to me.  I slid my hand onto hers and traced her fingers with mine feeling each curve and groove within the soft hands I admired.

 I was in love with how turned on I got. She moved on top of me and settled when we were breast to breast. I felt her mouth on my chest and she kissed in circles as I pulled her body closer. Her legs spread and she wrapped herself around my thighs, she gripped me tight and released, her nectar mingling with mine. She found her way to my breasts and devoured them while our bodies both grinned right before the slow grind. My hands roamed up and down her sides and the upper part of her back where I found rhythm with her hard sucking and grabbed her hair to steady it. When her sucking subsided I released and she found my mouth and again dove into me. I’m pretty sure that was the day kissing became my favorite thing. But by then both our juices were flowing and I grabbed onto the only thing I could hold onto. With my hands on both cheeks I pulled her closer to me and when she moaned louder still I gripped her more forcefully. I became bolder, felt how much she needed me and not one but two fingers worked their way down beneath. I enveloped them into a slippery velvet temporarily sidetracked by the parting of swelling lips.

 To be continued.

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