| Iris, Chapter II She nearly jumped out of her skin when my fingertips touched her where her neck and collarbone meet. I kept stroking her there, giving her tiny butterfly kisses on her cheek, and I watched a perfect, angelic smile sweep across her face. I ran my nose and cheek down her neck, to that hot spot at the base of her neck, and nuzzled her gently there, feeling her squirm in my arms. Her lips brushed my cheek in a sweet angel kiss that made my heart flutter. I started to caress the base of her neck with my lips. The sweet moan, bubbling with ecstasy, came from all the way down inside her. I anchored her to my body with my muscular arm, emboldened as I sucked her neck softly and ran my tongue over the sensitive, tender skin. "Anna...I...this isn't..." she stammered. "Shhhhhh," I reassured her. "It's okay. I won't hurt you. I'll go nice and slow, it's okay." "But why...I'm old...three times your age...don't you want... a pretty girl?" She ran her fingers through my hair as I sucked her earlobe. She tried to speak, but was overcome by the sensation. "Shhh, don't talk about yourself like that. You're beautiful. You're so gorgeous and perfect, it blows my mind to look at you. You hardly look thirty, honest. You're lovely." I held her delicate hand in mine, and I was being honest. She doesn't look over thirty, maybe thirty-two at the most, despite the fact that she's really fifty-four. Running my lips up and down the cartilage of her ear, holding her beautiful, smooth hand, I was in heaven, and so was she. "Nobody in the world is as beautiful as you," I told her, and I believed it with all my heart, "no matter how young they are. You're so beautiful. And I love you. Don't worry about your age. Don't worry about anything. I want you. Just as you are, I want you." She moaned softly, now surrendered in mind as well as body, and I took her face in my hands and repeated, "I want you." Moving in slowly at a slight angle, I took her upper lip between my lips, and sucked gently, pulsing, varying the pressure and stroking her perfect face. I broke it gently, pausing to gaze into her glittering brown eyes. "I love you, Susan," I told her. "I love you too," she whispered. "Sweet, sweet, precious little Anna." I kissed her again, just as tenderly, sucking softly on her mouth, flicking my tongue against her lips, using it to lavish attention on them. I applied a bit more pressure to coax open her mouth. Her lips parted slowly. I gently slipped my tongue into her warm mouth, gently flicking, stroking, caressing the softness inside. Her soft moans fed my lips, urged me deeper and deeper into her mouth. We rocked back and forth in each other's arms, speeding up and slowing down rhythmically, on beat with the motion of my tongue in her mouth. I didn't plunge my tongue into her or probe her with it, like a man would; instead I used long gentle slow licks, sucking on her lips, a mirror of what I hoped I would eventually get to do to her. Every moment was gentle, unhurried, without goals or objectives beyond each other's pure pleasure for its own sake. The kisses were long and lazy, slow and sweet, and I never wanted to stop. (to be continued) |