Erotica: While You Thought I Was Sleeping by Lipstick & Lace

Passion For Love by imagerymajestic, courtesy of www.freedigitalphotos.net

Passion For Love by imagerymajestic, courtesy of www.freedigitalphotos.net

I could have ended it. I could have ended it before it even began. Just by opening my eyes. But I didn’t want to. I wanted it to go on forever. The way your hands roamed my body when you thought I was asleep. They glided over my skin, the friction with my clothes between us making the sensations more delicious. You cupped my breast, and rubbed the nib of my nipple through the lace of my bra and the cotton of my T-shirt, rolling it between your fingers, squeezing it gently. I bit my lip and fought the urge to moan, not wanting to give away the game, thankful that we fell asleep spooning and you couldn’t see my face. I didn’t want this to end. I wanted to see how far you would go.

Your hand ran down my side, slipped under my top, and back up towards my breast. You were gentle, not wanting to wake me, but I could feel you grow against the back of my thighs, and the more you were aroused, the less gentle your hands became. My nipples grazed and strained against the lace of my bra. I turned my head, still feigning sleep, and bit the pillow, stifling the sounds of my pleasure, afraid that if you knew I was awake you would suddenly be self-conscious and stop.

Your hand spread wide as it skimmed across my stomach, down, caressing my skin, alive with a million nerve endings, down to the top of my jeans. There, you hesitated. You ran your finger along the waistband, and I felt you grow harder. I willed you to reach for the button and zip, to undo them, to slip your hand inside and continue your thrilling explorations. Your hand moved, and I held my breath, waiting, but it retreated, returning to my breasts. Your nose nuzzled my neck, brushing away my hair and tentatively kissing the skin there.

I couldn’t bear it any longer. I wanted you too much. I wanted your hands on my most intimate parts. I wanted to feel your skin against mine. I wanted to taste you. I wanted to feel you inside me. I rolled in the narrow bed, turning to face you, wriggling down slightly, and moulding my body to yours. My lips found yours and after a moment’s startled hesitation you kissed me back, your hands winding in my hair, holding my head close to yours as your tongue invaded my mouth, as you pressed your body against mine, your engorged member against me, as your legs parted mine, as my moans were crushed against your lips.

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