Slow Dance - Sex Stories

Slow Dance

... the change in your breath and moans, subtle shifts that make me thrust harder, massage you deeper. I can feel it in your rising heat, in your little shakes, as if tectonic plates rest inside your bones, inevitably colliding and quaking. Little spasms flood more juices around me before they grow longer, more forceful. You clench and pulse almost painfully tightly around me as release begins to overtake you. I can barely hold on with this delirious pressure gripping and squeezing my length, coaxing me to join you. Moments later, I erupt deep inside you, my own release overwhelming now, while you keep squeezing, milking the life out of me and into you. I'm holding on to you so tight, your hand finding mine and holding it, your touch the one certain beacon during any kind of storm. I moan your name over and over in a deep whisper near the curve of your earlobe, the syllables like a unique chant, a cadence only reserved for rituals this private and sacred. A prayer for you to never let me go - to always keep me inside of you. The time ...

... after is always echoes and snapshots to me. It's wisps and flashes of heat from when our eyes locked in the dark before kissing. Our hearts calm from thunder, in tune with erratic stormy skies, to soft drums, thumping below skin and bone. We embrace as we did when spooning before, just unclothed now, the television off. Both of us are too sleepy to get up and go to our bed but we never say so, as if snuggling forms a silent agreement to just stay this way tonight. We'll sleep tonight with the music of our hearts calmly beating and the rain falling outside. There have been times after when we'll talk for hours. Causal things - joking, hopes, plans, our darkest secrets and deepest thoughts that we entrust no other with. We always unravel the mysteries in one another. But I cherish this too, just as much. Telling you I love you, and hearing those three words pass through your lips, just for me. There's nothing better to hear when one is slowly descending into sleep, holding the one person they want to see when they wake up in the morning.