So I Focus On Her

I dont let that stop me.

Rachel is up against the wall and my hands are filled with. She is soft and warm beneath my touch but there is a tension that is growing in her and I pay attention to that, keeping one part of my mind focused on it at all times as I push and pull and test the waters.

When I brush just right, sliding my finger so it slips between the pert folds of her sex and brushes in a circle around her clit, she tenses and her bottom lip quivers. Noted, I keep that up. I build on it, teasing out little variations in pressure and speed as I watch her body react, noting what works and what does not.

But that's only one hand. The other is free to roam over her body and god I do just that. In light strokes and in tense digging refrains. Places that are sensitive, her breasts and her nipples and a tickle over her ribs, and in places that are not always thought as so, the inside of her wrist and her collarbone and the flat of her tummy. I explore them all and I suss out all her most sensitive places and I write them down in my imaginary journal, memorizing them for the future.

Because Rachel has been good to me. She has been my guide and my friend and she has always had my best interests at heart and she has made me feel so good. Time and again she has made me feel so good and I know it will be hard but I want to learn. I want to learn how to be good to her too.

My hands are full. Full of her and full of my experiences and all of my senses are tuned to her body, watching her for reactions because god if I can make her cum it will be enough for me.

Yes, the squirming need is still present in my belly, but this would be enough for me. I could have this. I could want it and need it and fuck I could love it too.

I could... Oh fuck I fucking could.

I could be happy here, right?

My hands are full and my senses are turned to her. My touch filled with her body and my smell only of the way she smells so clean and fresh. My eyes observing her and my ears, they focus on the shuddering breaths that are raking their way out past her lips, barely audible beneath the roar of the water rushing over us.

But my taste is lacking and it should be. It should be lacking because I haven't done anything with it yet and that is by intention. I want to build her up before I push her further, before I fall to my knees.

Before I taste her.

Rachel taught me just how good a tongue can be. Her and Lucas who made me cum and who showed me the depth and the fire of pleasure that I could fucking have and I want to give it back to her. I want to make her burn.

So the moment it seems like she's reached a plateau is the moment I push her further. The moment I slide down her body and down to my knees in the shower, slipping my hand which had been on her breast down her thigh and curling my fingers around the back of her knee and lifting it, bending it, and placing it over my shoulder.

I take a moment, the first moment of contact of my lips with her in this way. I kiss the inside of her thigh.

And then I've had enough with waiting. Then I just want to give her what she needs.

Pushing forward I plunge between her thighs and I withdraw my fingers from the dripping tight warmth of her sex to push my lips against her only a moment later. I close my lips over the nub of her clit and I hollow my cheeks, pulling her into my mouth as hard as I can in an instant while my tongue slips forward eager and intense, lashing her back and forth so sudden that I watch it happen.

Her eyes flicker open.

Her body tenses.

And Rachel loses control.

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