I'm not naming this couple, but you should have no problems identifying. (Oneshot, once again). R&R would be appreciated.
The room is dark, except for the moonlight that is the only source of illumination. You don't need any artificial light to read the words in that heavy tome you're consulting. I stand behind you quietly and imagine your face; concentration is probably wrinkling your forehead. For sure there are blond strands of hair falling over your beautiful deep eyes. I suppress a chuckle because you forget to breathe. You might just realize that what you are reading is out of date by now; most of your library is. You know that.
Still you will always drag each and every book along when we move. It's nostalgia.
You know that, too.
It is one of the many many things I love about you. You know that just as well.
You know so many things. Wisdom is what makes you what you are. Or is it compassion?
I could go on, think and wonder about you more and more, night and day, month after month and year after year.
Without you I would not even exist anymore. Without you I would never have come to know genuine love. You showed me how to love that way, even when you say that it was me who taught you how to love that way.
Now I say we taught each other and you agree. Passion is what I'm talking about.
And I stand here tonight because I have another lesson on my mind.
I approach you. You close the book and turn around in your chair, your lips form a warm smile for me.
Of course you know how to read me and it might not even take you a whole second to know what my intentions are.
The rain pours outside, the house is quiet. And the table will about do. For now.
I push the book aside and you stand up, lifting me to sit on the table. I know why I'm wearing a knitted dress tonight and you grin because you know it, too.
You nestle your sensual body to mine, embracing me with your strong arms. Your tenderness is warming me from the inside as I return your kisses. They trail down now, over my neck, shoulder, chest… there is the dress and you slip it off me easily. Your experienced hands touch my bare skin and I am not guided by my brain anymore, instinct and lust take over.
Your clothes leave us to join mine on the floor. I gasp and shudder as you explore me, slowly now, lovingly as ever. Your fingers find the right spots, your lips know what they're doing. We go on and on, I loose track of time. The feelings are overwhelming, maddening.
I throw my head back and beg you to close what is separating us and you do; you are inside me and I cry out, lost, so lost in you.
You are murmuring against my neck, moaning and whispering how much I mean to you. I pull you harder against me, my nails scratching your back in urgency but you remain so gentle and slow it almost drives me insane. I answer your whispers of devotion and claw my fingers into your shoulders, beg you again…
Finally I feel the release and cry out. You speed up and slow down, guiding my orgasm patiently. I loose myself for a moment and you hold me securely in place, kissing my neck, stroking me so gently it makes me want to cry.
You always wait for me to be first. You're such a gentleman. For that I give you everything I have to offer because those gentle moans and gasps you make are like music to me, each one a little reminder of the love we share and so absolutely depend on.
It might not have been the same time period, but we know we were made for each other.
(AN: If you honestly haven't figured out who they are you are allowed to leave a review and ask about it. If you can bare the shame.)