As I lay here, I look at your face. I see the lines of age. Some from smiles. Some from frowns. Some from disinterest. Some from just not giving a shit. You lie there asleep and I trace my fingers along the lines. They disappear like magic when I touch them to only reappear again when I remove my fingers as if my fingers had never visited upon your face.
Your lips look soft and inviting in your sleep. I’m glad you are asleep so I can look at you this way. I touch your lips lightly with the tip of my finger feeling their plump softness, not feminine at all but a manly softness that speaks of strength and vulnerability.
I trace my finger feeling the softness of your lips along the imperfections that look perfect to my eyes. The slight creases which occur from years of use and sometimes neglect in harsh weather. To me they are beautiful and I long to kiss them, to touch them with my wet tongue and hear you sigh in your sleep. You have never let me do this while you are awake.
Your lashes are dark and long, every woman who sees them sighs in envy wondering why a man would be gifted with such eyelashes but I know why. They don’t need to know.
Your lashes draw my eyes and pull me into your gaze until I can no longer breathe for the soul that looks out at me. I become captured in your gaze. There is no escape for me but I am one of those prisoners who glories in their capture, who has fallen in love with her captor and will never try to escape. You hold me captive with only your eyes, and my heart stops beating each and every time.
It isn’t until you break our captured gaze, do I realize what I’ve become. You know without hesitation, you can now touch me with your strong fingers and I’ll beg for you to make me yours. To take me to that place where the world is no more and only the two of us exist. It only takes one touch.
But you sleep now, your eyes are closed. I can look upon you without being captured in your gaze. I can see the man before me, lying naked by my side. It doesn’t matter if your body is young or old or somewhere in between. You have never cared that mine is older, showing signs of age, or at least it had when we first met, somehow being with you, time has stopped, and my body seems to have become a few years younger. You have done this to me in a very subtle way as you helped me change and become one with my true nature.
I touch your chest just slightly off center where your heart beats firmly. I place my palm flat feeling your heat, your heat which scorches me when you release your beast. Your heart pounds with more promises, your beast telling me he will not be contained for long as my hand trails down over ribs moving, expanding with each breath, towards your stomach though not ripped in hard muscle I can still feel your muscles beneath soft tissue still a pleasure to hold beneath my fingers. You are not perfect in your form, but you are perfect in my eyes.
You are completely naked to my view. My eyes travel from your stomach to the nicely trimmed curls surrounding your proud cock which to my wondering eyes was awakening slowly as my fingers followed the trail of hair from your belly button to the goal my eyes were currently feasting upon.
My eyes flicked upwards quickly to your face, though your eyes were closed it was obvious by the tenseness of your face you are awake just pretending to sleep and by the look of your cock you are waging a fierce battle to not let your arousal show.
I grinned and decided to see how long you could hold out. I trailed my fingers following the path of hair from your belly button down and circled cautiously around the edges of your cock touching everything except your balls and cock. I could hear your breathing quicken occasionally stop all together while you hold your breath before letting it out in a long slow exhale. A few more circles of my finger never touching your cock and balls, and you suddenly bolt up on the bed and throwing me onto my stomach, lifting my hips and thrusting your now hard cock deep into my pussy.
I relax and enjoy the ride.
© Kate Spyder