There's A First Time For Everything

You know that feeling when the anticipation is so intense you can taste it? When you don't have butterflies in your stomach, you have a flock of raptors in your chest? It's not fear, exactly (though there is a little of that mixed in), just that slightly breathless feeling of impatience that precedes a big event.

I'm waiting for Patrick on a cold winter day; pacing back and forth, stalking from bedroom to kitchen to family room to bedroom, ruthlessly torturing myself by checking the clock repeatedly and wondering if he'll actually show. 

Why this sudden attack of nerves? I know he'll be here ~ we've been talking about this day for weeks, waiting for hubby to go out of town again, planning his alibi meticulously, driving ourselves crazy with talk of what we'll do with a couple hours together and a big, soft bed to spend them in. It's not like this is my first time to the rodeo; but somehow Patrick is different. I have the feeling that this might actually mean something. 

When I hear his soft knock, I do the girl thing and force myself to stand still for a count of 5. Mostly I'm taking deep breaths and just trying to calm down, but I don't want to seem overeager either. When I open the door I'm composed, at least outwardly. He ducks in quickly, smiling and producing a bottle of wine from under his coat.

I tow him into the kitchen, away from the cold air lingering in the foyer, and we laugh together as I open the wine and pour two glasses.  He stands looking at me for a moment before he steps closer and takes my face in his hands and kisses me.

We've already spent quite a lot of time connected at the lips.  I've learned how he likes to be kissed, and he me. This kiss is pure fire ~ I'm helpless against the sheer power of it. We stand together for a long time, swaying together in a silent dance while we kiss and nibble and breathe each other in. His hands are roaming freely, under my shirt, questing along the waistband of my jeans, leaving a trail of tingling goosebumps wherever they touch me.

I start moving toward the bedroom, pulling him along wordlessly. The room is glowing with candlelight, there's music playing, the bed is turned down; and those big birds are back in my chest. The anticipation is actually making me light-headed. He starts to undress me, and we trade back and forth, freeing our skin to each other's touch.

I understand, somehow, that it needs to be me that initiates movement toward the bed.  This is my domain, my home; and my invitation is required. I move to sit on the edge of the big mattress and he follows, leaning over me, urging me further back as he crawls onto the bed beside me. We lay crossways, ignoring the pile of pillows ~ another thing that will become a habit ~ and finally, finally, our skin is touching all along our bodies. We grin at each other for a moment, reveling in the sensation of warm skin sliding together, and then his arms come around me and he takes the lead.

I'm in a haze of pleasure. His hands are everywhere, his mouth close behind; and our silent dance continues as we roll together, seeking every curve, every hard plane of muscle, the smoothness of my skin contrasting with the light dusting of hair on his. Suddenly his mouth is between my legs, obliterating any coherent thought with broad licks and gentle nibbles and mind-blowing suction.  I'm over the edge immediately, too shocked at the intensity to even cry out, body quivering, hands clenched in the sheets, mouth open as this amazing orgasm overtakes me. It quite literally takes me apart for a moment, scattering my molecules to the universe before the touch of his hand on my breast calls me back to earth to meet his eyes.

He is still smiling, his body half over mine as he lazily strokes my breast, toying with my almost painfully erect nipple. I'm addle-brained, heavy-limbed, still feeling the aftershocks; but it doesn't take me long to gather my wits. A short, good-natured wrestle ends with me kneeling between his legs, one hand on his chest to keep him on his back, and the other stroking down his belly to his twitching cock. I hold his eyes all the way down, willing him to watch me draw my tongue along his length, root to tip, repeatedly. When I take him in my mouth in one swift slide he exhales like he's been punched in the stomach. 

My hands are busy stroking, one on his chest, one between his legs. My eyes are still locked with his. I have his full attention and I'm not letting it go. I feel his muscles tightening, see him fighting for control, feel his hands in my hair. He's torn between pulling my mouth off him and urging me on, I can feel it in the way his fingers clench and open repeatedly.

Control wins and he pulls me up to meet his mouth, his breath coming hard.  I'm wriggling atop him, trying to align our bodies, but he has other ideas. I find myself on my back with him kneeling between my thighs, his hands braced on either side of my body. We're staring at each other again ~ a silent question asked and answered in that instant.

He holds my gaze and slowly slides that gorgeous, rock hard cock into me. I'm so ready, so wet, that it's effortless; and there it is again ~ that feeling of two puzzle pieces clicking together. He's motionless for a few seconds as we absorb that first moment, then starts a slow, even stroking that has me over the edge again almost immediately. He takes his time, his control absolute as he backs away from his release again and again while watching me writhe below him.

When he gathers me up hard against his chest, his hands tangled in my hair and tugging, I know he's losing his grip on that iron control.  He strokes into me slowly, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in.  His mouth is on mine, kissing and nipping; his eyes closed now as he charges toward release. When he buries his head in my shoulder, his hands closing hard in my hair, I feel the trembling start and he comes apart completely, giving control over to me for the moment. I tumble after him, riding the pulses of his orgasm into my own.

We cling together, awash in sensation and satiation.  I fight to stay awake ~ sleeping isn't something we have enough time for today ~ but we lay together, our bodies slowly cooling, our breathing slowing as we drift back toward reality.

I knew it would be good. I knew we fit together perfectly, like we were made to measure for each other. I knew we liked each other a lot more than we expected to. What I never, ever, in a million years expected was this feeling of rightness. The way my head fit into the hollow of his shoulder, the way his legs fit into mine; even our body temperatures were identical enough that we didn't overheat each other ~ an absolute first for me.

I should have been terrified at the implications this presented. I should have been, but I wasn't. 

What I was, was amazed. And happy. And completely turned on.

When I lifted my head to kiss him, he was waiting.