He climbed into bed smelling of sweet cologne and what the soap company would have us to believe Irish springs smelled like. I placed my hand on his face and kissed his lips, my nose recognizing the shave gel aroma and then the minty freshness of his toothpaste. All these scents mixed together and mingled in the air, surrounding me with his presence. I felt as if the entire room was embracing me with his warmth.
"You smell yummy," he whispered into my ear.
"I do?" I acted surprised. He complimented me on my fragrance when it was he who conquered my olfactory. I dared not let on the time and thought I had spent hoping to get the very compliment he had bestowed upon me. From the delicately scented soap, to the carefully chosen body lotion, there was not the single glimmer of coincidence in the bouquet I had made of my body.
We lay next to each other, drawing in the other's essence.
Rough fingers slid up and down my leg in a serpentine movement, my breathing slowing in anticipation of where he may touch next. His chest tightly against mine, I felt the thumping of his heart against my breasts. His life force, the core of him, the organ we associate with love and passion was pounding out its beat, reverberating off the soft flesh of my bosom. The symbolism nearly taking my breath away.
Those rough fingers soon found my sex and wasted no time with subtle introductions. One swift movement and I felt them writhing about inside of me, motioning and pointing, as if giving my walls and clit directions of when and how to come. My breath quickened and tiny moans escaped me.
"You're so wet," he purred, as he slid those fingers out of me before sucking the glistening juices off. One of his fingers rested on my lip, urging but not forcing my mouth to let it in. I did. His finger was warm and wet, both from his mouth and from its previous affair with my pussy. I could smell the tiniest hint of myself on him, a musky sweetness with a longing undertone.
I could taste myself in his mouth, the flavor matching the aroma perfectly. My fingers ran through his hair, entwining themselves in the silky softness before trailing down his neck and finding the strong muscles of his back. I kneaded those strong, thick muscles through his soft skin and made delicate trails with my finger nails, instantly cropping up goosebumps along the terrain.
Soon he towered over me. I knew what was coming, and my pussy quivered in anticipation. As he leaned down for a kiss, I felt the tip of his cock gently parting my lips. He stayed in this position, an agonizing moment frozen in time while I held my breath, afraid that breathing may make the wait even longer.
In a sharp, jolting instant, we were one. I wrapped myself tightly around him, our breaths matched and heart beats pounding in synch. His arms encased me closer still, our bodies only separating enough to accomadate his forceful impalement. We were so connected, so engaged in pleasuring each other that I could have easily cried, having been overwhelmed by the deepness of the interaction.
Instead, the release was made through the waves of an intense orgasm. As I neared the end of my climax, I felt him explode against my walls, coaxing them along for the ride. Another round of pleasurable contractions.
We lay, still tightly embraced, and still connected together as one erotic entity.