A gentle touch, and the word is given

Christine's gentle stroking of your hair continues ever so softly, and you reflexively respond by raising your head against her hand to extend her touch. Your eyes meet hers again as she eases into your lap with the grace of a cat, encircling your waist with her legs and wrapping her arms around your neck. Your hand runs down her back and removes the torn top of her sheer bodysuit, even as you gently stroke her cheek with the other hand. Her eyes, reflecting the firelight, seem wild, willing and needful. Then she pulls herself close to you, her body medling perfectly with yours, her head nestling into your shoulder.

"No one has ever done anything like this to me... for me," she whispers. "Men always seem to want me to please them, but John, they never seem to care about pleasing me... until you." Her voice grows slightly hoarse, and you imagine you hear a sob behind her words.

A warm drop falls to your shoulder, a teardrop.

You tilt her chin upward, whisper into her panting lips. "Someone should have a long time ago."

"I'm so happy that you're going to be my first," she whispers back.

"This is really what you want?"

Christine responds by running the tip of her tongue over your lips, moaning softly and rocking her hips against your rock-hard cock.

<<I'll take that as a yes,>> you think to yourself as you kiss passionately once again, your hands sliding down her back to pull the rest of her bodysuit off...