“I know babe, we’re together now — we’ve found each other. I love you and you know it — I’ll prove it every day. You ready to share a bed and get some rest.”
“The shared bed sounds good — not sure I can rest though. But let’s start with the bed, I know we’re both tired. It’s been a long day.”
***
As desperately as I want to do more, snuggled close in our shared bed, I resolve not to. I promised her and already what I promised has been stretched far beyond what I had in mind — even sharing this bed is more than I ever imagined or thought we’d do on this trip. But our hands are restless and roaming — our bodies grow too warm under our covers. Her fingers can’t seem to get enough of my cock — even more so, my balls. Our lips become old friends — very close old friends and our tongues join in the dance. I know she would probably let me, but I made a promise — this is enough. This is more than enough. I make myself believe it’s better to wait for the final act. But my lips do tend to wander, like me in the mountains. They wander over the ridge of her collar bone and down the slope of her shoulder. They wander in the dark, searching for the two small hills with their peaked summits. She caresses my hair as I suckle her taught nipples and my hand softly caresses between her legs. I want more, but keep my promise lest I risk loosing her trust. But perhaps ….
In a soft whisper I ask her, “Has anyone ever kissed your pussy?”
His question takes me off-guard and makes me wonder if he’s read my mind. It funny and really nice we’re thinking the same things. “No, no one has ever touched it except me and some doctors. Why do you ask?”
“Would it be alright if I kissed it?”
I feel my heart beat faster and my breaths become shorter — it’s not what I wanted when we first talked about coming here — it’s not his fault, I’ve been thinking the same things. I’ve read about it in stories …. “Yes … you’ll be gentle?”
I can hardly believe my own ears, “I’ll be more than gentle, you only have to say the word and I’ll stop.” I get up out of bed to pull the covers away.
“Would you put a pillow under my right knee for support, it’ll make it easier for me to open my legs wider.”
I do everything she asks and now for the first time she has exposed the fulness of her treasure — the soft light filtering in from outside finally enables me to see everything, her deeper folds a dark sepia against her lighter brown skin all framed by the jet black hair of her mound. It’s so different than the pink I’ve seen before and I find it alluring and seductive and so very desirable. I crawl back on from the end of the bed and kiss her inner thighs — one leg then the other. My kisses are reverent and soft and she pushes herself toward me for more. I know what she wants — I know what she needs and I don’t deny her. My tongue spreads her dark folds wider — her moan is one of uncensored pleasure. I lick her from bottom to top, slowly at first but then with more abandon — unleashed lust … and desire. Her fingers woven into my hair pull my mouth harder into her gift to me — my Valentine’s Day gift. When she squeezes my trapped head tighter between her legs, I soften my licks as my own pent up need threatens to take care if itself. I realize that I’m humping the bed while pleasuring her and stop before it’s too late. As I relax, I feel her relax too and crawl up to lay next to her. Micky lays spent on her back, her knee still propped on the pillow. Raising up on an elbow, I kiss her on the forehead. “Thank you for trusting me. And thank you for sharing yourself with me.”