Ecstasy of a Kiss

by Maureen Louise Reardon
Both of them thrived on the opportunities that their first kiss represented. As much as they both wanted to rush each other and crash together, giving into the hunger that dwelled within them, they chose to flirt with what they desired. Theirs was not a flirtation with each other. It was not a teasing where one denied the delivery of pleasure to the other. It was an unspoken agreement that the first kiss would be an event that lasted longer than what most lovers would deem ordinarily appropriate. Their first kiss would be a dance of desire, a restrained courtship of two lusts eager to embrace, with abandon themselves. Their hunger demanded the taste of extraordinary. For they had waited a seemingly lifetime for the arrival of such pleasure.
Neither of them spoke, but both in perfect synchronization. Only inches separated them as they touched hands, fingers lacing perfectly to interlock. Lips parted and heads rolled slightly in opposite directions, aligning them for the special kiss of greeting they both craved. My head leaned down to her mouth as she tilted her head back to look up at me. Their eyes remained open as they hesitated, only fractions defining the space between their lips. Both of them exhaled; the rhythm of their dance of desire permitting warm breath to mix becoming one within themselves. The presence of another body's warmth, the sweetness of a lovers breath caressed them. The driving intensity of their dance into shallow breaths. Awaiting final submission to there burning want.
Energy flowed between their souls, coursing through the coupling of their hands and fingers. They moved even closer, appearing to give into the magnetic attraction of the kiss only to back away slightly and roll their heads opposite of each other once again, noses slipping softly across one another. This time shallow breaths became entangled with the voice of uncontrolled passion. Each moaned as one. Lips finally touched, eliminating the separation that completed yet another portal through which energy rushed between them. Eyes finally closed, as they slipped away that was their destiny. Bodies were bursting with evidence of arousal. Time stood still, everything else no longer mattered. They had become one once again.
Sounds of wet lips separating, making no more sound than the whisper of a summer breeze. They were so deep into their dance that they could hear their eyelids opening and closing, sharing the amazement that their first kiss always left with them. My hands released hers and slid around her waist, coming together behind her, locking in the small of her back. I spoke into her without a word.
I drew a deep breath, looked deeply into her soul, and then stole what breath that was left in her chest like a remorseless thief. We connected for the duration, always touching, always holding each other. Secretly, they both knew that the kisses caressing the swollen ache between her thighs was well beyond her ability to withstand before being hurled from the high place.
Standing, facing each other, she shifted her feet, parting her legs slightly, permitting me to slip into the gap at the top of her thighs. We kissed lightly at first, then progressively moved closer to the power of the submission that pulled at them, mouths consuming mouths with a new sense of urgency. My hands tightened on her hips, pulling her waist toward me, slipping, sliding into the slick destination where I would soon place a century's worth of kisses. The moans they exchanged spoke the language of lust, begging and pleading to continue toward completion.
The king-sized bed welcomed them with crisp cool sheets. I loved watching her wriggle onto her back, searching for the perfect spot. A smile crossed My lips as I watched her place her arms over her head, feeling for the headboard, no doubt checking to see if she was close enough to push.
"Spread your legs for me," I said softly.
"Mmm," she moaned, as her knees rose slowly. With the beauty of a morning flower opening to the warmth of an early sun, her thighs parted for me. Delicate unfolded, glistening with anticipation, poised to offer me the me of her love for me. Slipping one hand under her bottom, I settled into passions garden, I leaned close and drew in the scent of her, savoring her, permitting her heady richness to swirl in my senses. A slender hand slipped down, and with a pretty finger, lightly touched just below where the bud of her clit was growing in anticipation of many kisses to come.
I placed my free hand low on her belly and slowly dragged it down, slipping lightly over her mound. Her hips rolled up to accept the sensation of my warm hand. Without hesitating, I edged past her reaching hips and slipped my hand under her bottom, cradling her like a storybook. The story held between her thighs would be read by me, read by the tender touch of my lips and tongue, read word by word, page by page with the deftness of a blind womyn's feather touch over Braille script.
With gentle support with my hands under her bottom, she planted her feet and pushed herself toward my waiting mouth. I bent down to meet her efforts, stopping short, exhaling into her warm center.
The feel of my breath overcome her.
It amazed me that something as warm as her soul could actually feel the warmth of my breath when by comparison she was so much hotter. I looked up at her and saw her head pressed back into the thick down pillows, hands clasped together over her head, anticipating the rush of another kiss. My waves overcome hers. Pressure of my lips against hers was light, yet firm enough to not be mistaken for anything other than a kiss, one kiss of a hundred. My tongue was slow to make contact, hesitating while I relished the feel of her hips swiveling, rotating to receive the touch of my lips. Just like the first kiss we shared, I searched with a shallow stroke of my tongue through her.
With a quick flick of the tip of my tongue, I broke away from the first of many. She relaxed into my hands, sinking back down on the bed. Again I moved down to her wet warmth and spoke softly, vibrations of my voice my breath washed over her.
The next kiss landed deeper into her wetness, as she pulled her knees up, giving full access to her. My tongue dipping deeply into her, synchronized with lips that parted to take more of her into my mouth. The response was exactly what we both wanted. A deep groan of satisfaction seeped from her mouth. Emphasis was added to her satisfaction with a shuddering stretching motion as she lifted herself to me, pressing toward the source of her delight. Pulling back slightly, I hesitated, looking at her glistening lips and protruding clit. My voice was smooth with evidence of my hunger.
Licking her with a slow, deep draw of my tongue from the top of her soaking opening, across the velvet smoothness of her crescent, to the bursting ripeness of her clitoris.
Before she could say anything, I went back to her, kissing softly and quickly each successively deeper, each with scooping motion by the tip of my tongue. Enough for her to pick up on a rhythm, her hips responding in perfect syncopation. Just as she settled into her perceived tempo, I drew another slow lingering lick through the length of her wetness. Neither focused on sequence nor on quantity. Hips stuttered abruptly, as my tongue dropped into her a deliberate trip to her clit. She was my lover. Every motion she made was in response to my patient tongue, and tender kissing lips.
They wandered in passion's fog as it set in thick, blinding them from all aspects of the realities they escaped together. I was somewhere between heaven and the edge of the universe. She, on the other hand, was lost in a wave of intense stimulation, a swirling chaos of ecstasy that was hers for the taking.
The End