|
y lips into the work-toughened palm.
A gentle pressure urges me and I turn within his arms. Suddenly, I
am all lithe and graceful. I am desired and beautiful. He takes my face
in his hands and kisses my forehead, my eyes, my chin, my cheeks. His
beard is scratchy and I don't care. Dozens of small, urgent kisses,
everywhere on my face but my lips. I ache inside and yearn to feel his
mouth on mine.
His hands leave my face and I turn my mouth toward him, waiting --
for a moment. Now he is kissing me sweetly, lightly, as if my lips were
a delicate morsel to be savored carefully. I throw my arms around his
neck, pulling myself up against him, pulling him down to me. I mash my
mouth against his hungrily and a moment later feel his tongue lightly
dancing across my lips. I part my lips slightly and he coaxes me to meet
his touch there as his arms wrap around the small of my back and he
crushes my torso against his wonderful, strong muscu
|
