i touched his mouth, fingertips ghosting his lower level just before i pressed onto tiptoes and kissed him greedily.

i was rushed, eager for more as he lowered me onto the bed.

his mouth touched me, beginning with each eyelid, brushing down the curve of my neck, reciting a lullaby over the swell of my breasts and dip of my rib cage.

he took his time, lower and lower still. he was an adventurer and i was uncharted territory.

i pushed my fingers into his hair, losing myself; i was torn, simultaneously securing him in place and pushing him lower.

i was no longer rushed. instead, i was memorizing the feel of the subtle scruff of his five o'clock shadow between my thighs.

he settled into position until i saw stars and then devoured me more; he created a dripping mess and an orchestra of pleasure.

he propped himself onto his elbows and promised this was just the start and then...

i touched his mouth.