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The Renaissance... an invitation to develop a story

With flame comes fire, a smoky wanton pyre that is building with each passing moment. Without having done anything like this before, your calm assurances, your gentle caresses, your rising desire... they all entwine together with the fact that you are a near-stranger to me and make me tremble with it.

With your touch, the cupping caress that calls my shoulders to arch so that I press my breast further into your palm, I think that you are one hell of a conversationalist. Then I dismiss that humour in a spate of desire that tumbles down upon me in a heap. Your member pressing against my thigh, your tongue swirling in my mouth, dueling with my own...

I'm amazed that I'm breathing at all, as I move gently with you, against you, and feel that rising flush. My palms now rub up and down your back, fingers gently curling in to trace lines between your shoulder blades, and a small, soft sigh escapes my lips still against your own.
 
As you sigh, the warmth of your breath brushing my lips comes as an invitation to continue our mutual delight.

Fear and hesitation get cast further to the side, my leg not only touching yours but now coming just over on top of it; I am aware that my emerging hardness has to have been felt by you. There is no shame in that realization. I am desiring you, immensely, and very much the same desire seems to be rising in you, as well.

My hand, which has enjoyed the soft firmness of your breast, moves to find an opening in your blouse. The slightest touch of your flesh will satisfy me... for now. I have no illusions that my longings for you will not continue to deepen with each moment.

__________

And then I do something very unexpected. I break our kiss, to pull back just a bit. You're certainly not a little girl... anymore than I am a little boy. But I must make sure.

"Teresa... are you... okay?"

Please say yes... please say yes! my brain screams silently.
 
Swept away by the moment, I close my eyes, taking in the sensations and revelling in them with each passing breath. Awareness has certainly moved from more open and expansive to an ever-decreasing circle. Where thought has been suspended, and desire replaces it.

Going over everything that led to this moment, I try to recall the first glance, the first reason, the indescribable something that made me look your way. And as I begin to arch into your gentle fingertips, I feel something shift.

Immediately, I wonder if I have done something wrong. Maybe my tongue was... or my mouth? Oh no... did I have garlic with lunch? Great googly mooglies, I wonder... Is there something grotesque caught in my teeth?

But surely, surely you would have said something... or is that what you're going to say now???

My eyes open as you pull back, and I try to focus on you as you are so very close. I blink a little rapidly, trying to see your expression, or the concern, or anything that might reveal what I have done.

"Kevin?" I ask, so close to you, lips almost brushing your own as I answer. "I... I think so, yes..." Is this a test? I didn't even study... didn't even know there was one coming... "Are... are you?"

Is that why you ask? The doubts I felt before return now and have almost doubled; I feel slightly awkward there in your arms, a blush creeping up my neck as I'm now fully aware of my place on your bed.

The bed of a stranger in his hotel room.

And those second thoughts that seemed to be haunting you. I struggle to find some way in letting you off the hook; and smile at you to mask my concerns.

But there's a strange feeling in my chest, and I look at you, half-wondering and half-expecting for you to apologize sheepishly and let me up, uttering platitudes at how wrong this now seems...
 
I am very, very okay... I was just concerned that you were. And I see, somewhat horrified, that I have made you question this moment. And I want desperately to put your mind... and heart... and body at ease.

"Yes, Teresa, I... I very much am," I reply, instantly sorry I had broken the kiss. But I had to know. The flow of events from down in the restaurant had been unlike anything I had ever known... and I had to be sure. I didn't want you... or me... to have second thoughts.

To reassure you, I lean back down, kissing your lips again, and rise smiling; my hand has not left its discovery. And I as continue to look at you, struck by the wonder of this moment, the sheer serendipity of following my heart, I begin to unbutton your blouse. The skin that is tentatively revealed underneath is sheer white. Beautiful. Pure. Like a hidden valley that has never been explored... though I can't begin to believe that.

I part the open fabric just a bit and lower my lips to kiss the top of your chest. My kiss is nowhere near the mounds of your breast, but there is no doubt on the part of either of us where my lips are heading. Your flesh is warm, and soft. And inviting.

I moan softly as the tip of my tongue brushes your skin, very lightly. It is a beautiful moment.
 
It was your face. That genuine surprise that showed there as you must have seen something change in mine. I hadn't meant to share that. Self-doubt was an awful thing to see, but your reassurances and the tenderness of your kiss helps to stop the internal voice that invariably gnatters at everyone at least once in their life.

But I think Why Now???? and kick it to the curb. It's no longer welcome here, in here with you. With us.

Your fingers are still resting against my skin; those heated points surely thrumming with my heartbeat and then you stop. I glance up and see you looking at me, a slight peek of my skin revealed to your gaze.

And instead of exploring it with your fingers as I expect, you dip your head to my chest and touch your lips to me.

The contrast of the heat of your breath then lips against my cool skin makes me tremble for a moment, raising gooseflesh and making me gently sigh beneath you. The moan vibrates my flesh slightly and I raise a hand to gently cup your head, feeling your hair against the palm of my hand and try to keep no pressure, just give sensation back to you in as much of a dose as I'm receiving.

I tip my head back and breathe in the moment, lifting my other hand to your back, rubbing along the fabric and heating it slightly with the caress.
 
The closeness of this moment with you, Teresa, was unlike anything I had ever known before. It was as if the entire world were still, only you and I and this bond that we were experiencing... that we were creating... being the only things that existed.

Breath answered breath, heartbeat echoed heartbeat, passion called forth passion and I knew, beyond any doubt, really, that I wanted to be as close to you as humanly possible.

It struck me... I didn't even have a last name for you... but I felt the skin of your soft chest with my lips. And wanted more.

I shifted slightly, my hand pulling the soft fabric of your blouse aside a bit more, exposing the edge of your breast that pressed outside of your bra as you lay before me. My hand moved inside your blouse to cup your breast through the sheer silk fabric of your simple bra, my kiss proceeding to the edge of your breast. Words slipped out of my mouth as I absorbed your softness. "Oh... wow..." so softly, I wasn't sure if you could hear me.
 
I feel the touch, your lips almost dancing across my skin as I struggle to keep my breathing deep and slow. Each tentative touch, each deliberate pause, each steady movement... It draws more sensation from me and I tingle with it.

My fingers explore more boldly, pressing into your scalp and then I use my fingernails to gently scrape and feel that heat against my hands. A shift of my shoulders, and I push closer to your mouth, your palm heating my breast and my nipple puckers in response.

My breath catches for a moment with the added feeling, and then, words, close but so far away, roll across my flesh. "Kevin..." I whisper, more an affirmation of our being together than an appeal to you, and I close my eyes for a moment, moving my hand down to slide along the back of your neck, brushing the top of your collar.

The opening of your shirt is enough to admit my hand, and I slide it gently in, palm down and rest it there. I feel your muscles move beneath your skin as you continue to kiss me, and I squeeze reflexively, then release you as my trembling continues.
 
I am finding an appetite for you, Teresa, and with that the awareness that all I experience of you makes me want more. The scent of your flesh floods my brain and my body presses still closer to yours; it's as if I want each part of my body that can connect with yours... to.

Your hand finding its way inside the back of my shirt only fuels my desire. And fueling it is. The moment is incendiary as my passion sparks to a degree I had never anticipated.

I become more... brazen as my desire builds. My hand nudges at the cup of your bra, seeking to free your breast from its restraint. The desire to take you in my mouth is becoming nearly overpowering.

My lips pause their exploration, my eyes connecting with yours... so very lovely.

"Teresa?" I ask plaintively. "Please..."
 
Your skin is heated, the want collides with desire inside of me and I am aware that the pace is increasing like the beat of my heart. I swallow, feeling a rising begin until it almost rolls over and into your fingertips.

Each movement isn't planned but it's choreographed; it is not a new step but it is with you, Kevin. Your fingers touch along the fabric of my bra. I feel it because my whole body has become so sensitive to everything you're doing, every caress, and every pause.

So when you look up at me, my hand resting against your skin, eyes meeting in that moment, I almost can't breathe. I'm sure my pupils have almost eaten my irises with the desire that envelops me in it.

And the question seems somehow appropriate. I'm not sure that I'm consciously aware of what you're asking, but parts of me are quite certain. I used my thumb to stroke along your temple, then down along your cheek.

"Kevin?" I echo, face open and voice barely above a whisper. "What is it?"
 
"I... Teresa... I..."

My desire is so clear, so blantantly obvious I am embarrassed by myself... but still... I feel this drive so incredibly strong.

I am intoxicated by all that you are... and by all that I hope to experience of you... with you. My passion, my desire... my want is to be with you totally, as closely and as fully as possible.

There is an incredible need to give full expression to all that I am feeling, but I speak only for the moment... for that is all I am living in, wanting to possess right now.

My body does not pull away from your warmth; our faces are just inches apart. Mere whispers are being exchanged, and that is all that is needed.

"Teresa..." The sound of your name continues to hold me in a trance.

"... I want to be... much closer to you..."

It's a statement of desire. It's also an asking of permission. And yet, I continue on, not quite waiting for your response. I reach and start to unbotton your blouse, somehow trusting that the answer will be yes, that my desire, my longing, will be met by yours.

As I reach for your third button, but between and below your breasts, my last words echo in my brain. Did I really say that? 'much closer to you'? Yes, I did. Yes, I do...

My eyes take in your beauty. I want you fully.
 
You. You said it, had the guts to say what had been hanging in this room, this hotel, this buidling... almost since our eyes had met. I swallow, looking into your eyes, my hand still resting against your head and realize that I must have spoken.

But I didn't remember opening my mouth.

It must have been written on every breath, every touch, and within my eyes, how much I wanted what you wanted too, Kevin. Closeness, that touch, that melding with you that has my heart tripping in my chest and my breath shallow with the want of it.

It was more than just desire. It had become a yearning. And when you asked without asking, I answered without speaking.

My hand covered yours and I help you unbutton my blouse, revealing more than just flesh to you. I sigh, leaning back and let the sensations wash over me. "Not fair for just me," I whisper, and tug at the buttons of your shirt, looking up at you. I'm flushed, lips parted as my trembling fingers struggle with them.

What I want is to just rip them clean off that shirt, frustrated and needy to touch you too...
 
We cross a threshold I never even knew existed before this moment... entering into a level of longing, desire and connection where words may not be necessary.

Your response to my action provokes a new response, and in moments I have your blouse unbuttoned, spread, revealing your untanned skin. And I find the sight utterly erotic and exhilirating.

My interest was your breasts (and still is), but my lips find their way to your belly... something about that vulnerable spot of your body compels me to kiss there, even as my hands go to your sides... your breasts (still covered)... your neck... your upper arms... and back to your sides.

It is (and I blush to admit this) as if you are a human smorgasboard where every feature on display is heightening my hunger for you (to continue the image).

I am on my knees, beside you on the bed, and my entire being is completely focused on you... just you... only you... my Teresa.
 
My lips are parted as I watch your fingers working. My own are striving to touch your heated skin and my breathing shifts slightly, I tug more insistently at your shirt. "Kevin..." I say a subtle tone of urgency in my voice. But I stop, gasping slightly as my skin is exposed to your gaze and your lips, the tender care you use in kissing my stomach.

My muscles spasm with the ticklish touch, as I squirm gently beneath you. Then I watch as you slide out of my grasp. Where are you going?

You kneel, close at hand, and I stretch out my arm, fingers seeking to to touch you and let you know how much I wished to feel you against me. I drink you in as you are there, and try to keep everything in perspective, but that is slowly slipping away from me. For the whole of my reality is here with you, and I am driven further by you, upward, and wholly onward for you, by you dearest caring Kevin...
 
My kisses trail up your belly until I come just between your breasts. I breathe in deeply, your warmth filling my senses.

My hands reach up and lower your blouse off of your shoulders, and thankfully you comply, helping by shifting your body as I slip the fabric off of your arms. And then you lower down on the bed again, a look of gentle anticipation in your eyes.

I smile, pleased, and lean back down, our lips meeting again. My right hand goes to your left breast, only partially hidden from my touch now.
 
My hand touches your hair, feeling you move as your lips kiss upwards. And then rest for a moment, a dizzying moment that makes me hold my breath. A whisper of fabric and the blouse has been removed to pool on the floor, discarded.

You are above me, and I part my lips gently as you kiss me once more. I press upward to meet it, welcome it, feel its effects roll down my spine like ripples on a still pond when a pebble has been tossed in.

Your smile reassures me, and I smile in return. I feel my nipple press teasingly into the palm of your hand, only a thin silken veil separating it from you.

My breath comes in shorter sighs, my arm wrapping around your neck and shoulders. Your skin is warm, and your muscles work beneath it as I close my eyes, giving into the feeling of you against me. It is everything I had hoped, with a great promise for much, much more...
 
The sensations are amazing, floods of warmth and longing sweeping over me in waves... and you as well, I surmise.

You have not repelled my advances, and I decide that I will be the one to initiate our pace... the journey we are taking together... to wherever it leads.

As we continue to kiss, my hands reach underneath you... softly, carefully, stealthily... inviting you to raise your body enough that I release the clasp of your bra. And the fabric loosens, my breath literally skips in anticipation. Everything about you is luscious, beautiful, desirable. Each gift I've already received is held with tenderness... and yet I am longing for... more.

My tongue has a quick quiver, intertwining with yours, as the thin strap of the bra escapes off your left shoulder and then right.

Your body relaxes back on the mattress, your head on the luxurious pillow, and your bra lays limp on your body, covering you... but just barely.
 
Slowly, tenderly and as though taking each step like a cat probing the strength of the next, you lead and I move gingerly behind you. I hold back, shy to initiate, but gathering boldness at every touch. I sense you everywhere, in the tips of my fingers, against my body as I lay beneath you. You gently move forward to encourage me to arch upward, my breasts pressing through fabric against your bare chest. My kiss becomes deeper, mouth opening wider and I sigh into it, wrapping my arms around you tighter.

This gentle pace builds inside of me, heated want changes to yearning, but I keep time with it, savouring it. Feeling every sensation more intensely because I am controlling it. I feel my breath catch in my throat, a quiver travel down my spine, and I open my eyes to meet yours.

I feel your tongue swirling within my mouth and I push mine alongside yours, into your mouth, running along teeth and the inside of your cheek. Exploring, tasting, and then, as my bra is undone, I feel my breasts heavier now that they're free.

I take that moment to move and push your shirt from your shoulders. I pull off one arm and then the other, glad of your shifting to assist and enjoying the sliding against my skin. I ball the shirt and toss it somewhere. I don't even care where, and am starting to care less and less.

I run my palms further down your back and sides, sliding to touch the waistband of your trousers, fingers curling to touch the skin just beneath it as I feel my stomach somersault and my heart beat faster.

I don't think that thrumming is from nerves anymore, my Kevin...
 
No, I don't think it is, either, lovely Teresa.

My desire for you is reaching a point of, well, uncomfortableness, actually, my hardness pressing against my slacks to such a degree that I really wish to be free of them. But in its own time.

As our kiss grows yet more heated, I feel your heart pounding against my hand as it sweeps aside your bra, one more vestage of clothing that is not needed.

My hand warmly, carefully, lovingly shapes to your mound, your hardened nipple sliding in the crook between my index and middle finger.

I breath in deeply, feeling the warmth of your breath surge into my lungs; we are joining, quickly, on an amazing level. There is no thought whatsoever on my part of changing course or slowing down.
 
The slight brush across my nipples that my bra causes is only a shadow of your hand's heat and I arch into it. My fingers, only gently playing along the waistband, now push further beneath it, sliding across your stomach, playing with the skin and shifting beneath you.

Like a decadent exploration, I dip in and then out of your trousers, carefully avoiding your hardened member, but I caress you all around it. I know it's there, pressing, asking very insistently for some acknowledgement, but I give it indirectly as my nipple elongates fully between your digits.

I am pulled with the current but don't feel like I can drown as long as I cling to you...
 
Your hands tease... and immensely please.

I shift my body to give you more freedom of movement, but it's only a short time before you'll have all the access... to all of me... that you desire.

Relunctantly (there's no way for my lips to be two places at once, I discover), I break our kiss... first to utter your name.

"Oh... Teresa..." is full of desire. And full of lust, I realize.

I kiss your chin... then the top of your chest, as my hand carresses down to your side.

My lips are drawn as the compass needle to North as I find your eager nipple. My tongue swirls around the tender flesh before my lips surround her, tugging gently. My body then fully shifts so that my face is square over your breast, the left one, as my mouth encompasses your entire areola, my tongue swiping, playing, loving.

At the same time, my right hand moves to my pants, yanking the buckle. One more impediment is removed.
 
You are moving above me and my mouth, filled with yours is suddenly empty. My name is on your lips and I move, almost drawn to reconnect once more but your lips have another goal. Without your heated imprint there's nothing to block my voice and I moan gently with your touch, your caress and your...

Oh, Kevin, your mouth tells a story that the rest of me is jealous of! But the selfish nipple revels in it and I moan louder, deeper and through it, hear the jingle of your belt.

My hands find its source and easily yank it out of the belt loops. Gone! And I fumble with the button... the heat is rising and I need to feel more skin against my fingers, my hands, everywhere... More of you...
 
Sheer passion begins to overtake us two lovers. Layer upon layer is disappearing, with increasing speed. Or it is simply the intensity of my desire that is increasing?

My right hand stays at my midsection long enough to unbotton the tight button, but then moves to your belly... and lower... as my mouth migrates to your right breast. The softness that helps make you woman radiates a warmth that all that is firm about me longs for.

The hunger our bodies have for the others' is reaching a fever pitch. I give your breast a kiss. Then another. And yet another before I release you.

I shift to sitting beside you, my eyes full of request and desire. Both hands go to your skirt without looking; I am too focused on your face as I ask a simple question.

"May I...?"
 
Skiiiinnnn... I feel it beneath my fingers as I feel yours expertly undo your button for me. And for you. You play across my torso, down and teasing as I arch more into your mouth. Deeper sighs break from me, full of longing and of lust, want so palpable, you're like a taste in my mouth.

You kiss my nipple, and I exhale joy, and then... you stop, like a plateau I try to slow my breathing and look at you. Your hands seeking, my hands doing the same, and I hover a heated palm over you. Surely you can feel that...?

I look fully into your eyes, flushed, eyes sparkling and lips open and slightly reddened from our prolonged kiss. I nod slightly and then, with a mischievous look I ask, "May I?"
 
You are erotic. And captivating. And desirable... maximally desirable. And fun. You are so very fun! And your mocking question makes me laugh in response.

"Teresa? You never..." and I lean and kiss you, deeply, powerfully.

"... need to ask..." Following by yet another kiss, growing in its fire.

"... permission..." And I kiss you once more, before pulling away.

I unzip my pants and toss them aside. I am left with a pair of boxers on, and they offer pitiful little protection.

And then I move further down, unclasping your skirt and finding a zipper on the side, which I loosen. Your hips raise, allowing me to shimmy the material off of your body.

"So... very... nice..." I purr, my cock as solid as it possibly can be. The site of you lying there, wearing only your panties, is more than I can fully fathom.
 
Your look makes me stretch for you, fully female and fully admired. I preen a little and feel more daring to tease and play without fear or concern. I want. And I'm not afraid to let you know. Not with my words, or my gentle, deliberate actions.

It's a dance; moments like these of discovery are so much more than exciting...

There's a shallow panting that makes my chest heave with it, and as you kiss me, trying to reassure and pull me with you up that rising crest, I watch you toss your pants away. So, after I help you remove my skirt, I try to whip it around my head and watch it fly off and slide down somewhere. I try not to smile... I'm sure I'll find it later. Perhaps... perhaps that was too much, Teresa...

I blush a little and then return my focus to you; more than fully aware of what's happening between us.

My fingers slide over you, teasing, touching and watching your face as I feel your voice rumble. "Thank you..." I sigh, eyes now unable to look away from yours. My hands move over and across you, circling, touching and wanting...

"Kevin..." I sigh, blushing fully beneath your gaze. You feel warm, and I can sense you so close. So hot. So wanting. My fingers slide up and over the fabric of your boxers and tickle you through its thin layer.

How very wanting... how very needy... how very much like me...
 
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