Slow Dance - Sex Stories

Slow Dance

... plunge deep within again. Fingers run through my hair when your head turns to initiate a kiss, your tongue probing. Each grind makes me want to lose more control now. While we both love when we can take our time, we also love being enmeshed in one another's inescapable frenzy. You reach back and I shiver in the best way when you squeeze through my boxers, trying to pull them down even though your position makes it difficult. I take over, both of us chuckling from the fumbling, impatient attempt to disrobe me. Slipping them off, I pull off your top, pajama bottoms, and panties next. We are spooned again in seconds, skin rippled in goosebumps from need, from such sudden exposure. I throw the comforter back over us, even our heads, trapping our heat inside this intimate and safe cocoon, entombing your alluring scents with us. Your hair and warm fragrant skin intermingle with the familiar aroma of your sex, perfuming the dark air. The breath exiting your body becomes the only air my lungs pull in. Your kisses grow more feverish now as you grip and stroke me, moving me up and down, teasing my sensitive head between your cheeks. I'm throbbing harder than ever in your skilled grip. I swear I can even feel you smiling through your kiss. You pause to adjust your angle before pushing back. I tremble against your entire body from the sudden sensation of your fiery sex devouring, enveloping my entire length with its pulsing velvet. I stay still for a moment before I start slowly pumping ...

... in and out, while you follow my every rhythm with little pushes and hip swivels against me whenever I slide forward. I'm absolutely lost in the feel of your sex sheathing me, your tongue tangling with mine, your cheeks cushioning my every thrust. There is no sense of time here, just what we're doing. I'm oblivious to the rain and thunder, the night's cold and steady wind howling outside through trees, between houses, between cracks in the earth. There's only a universe constricted, narrowed down to you and I, to your heat and scent. My hand sneaks down again to play with the tender little nub of your clit, fingertips swirling as I go faster. As more of your juices coat me with their hot slick sheen, your kisses become a chorus of moans trembling through my mouth. Even though our movements are sleepy, we know each other all too well. We carry our own animal instincts that play off one another, regardless of what energy or speed is between us. Your body carries premonitions of touch inside the knowledge of where I will reach, always ready. You've always known me in capacities no other could reach the depths of. My words, moods, expressions, and even my silences are codes you've deciphered with little effort over time. The dialects we share extend to our joinings, to all the movements before and after. Your instincts are both animal, and guided with a true lover's patience, always aware when to take with a sweeping frenzy or a sleepy and sweet dance. I can feel it nearing from ...