The Passion A straying right hand creeps behind the ladies ear, his index finger sliding up in front whilst his other fingers tuck in behind her ear, hiding from sight underneath her chocolatey-coloured hair. She closes her eyes, eyelashes that previously fluttered now stay shut, giving up sight of her wonderful blue eyes. There is that diamond watch, the cuff of the shirt once again falling down his forearm. This time there was no jacket. Her tongue crept out, licking her deep red lips enticingly. She tips her head back, a male face leaning in to kiss her gently on her neck. He removes his right hand from her ear, moving it down over her shoulder and brushing it, along with her dress, over the crest of her shoulder and down to her upper arm, revealing an immaculate tan, seemingly natural. His hands appeared rough but felt so smooth as they ran down her arm. The lady countered this movement, pulling her arm back and touching the man's hand, locking their fingers together as both hands went above head height. The mans left hand held her right hip, the red dress riding up high in her kneeling position. He, however, lay on his side, using his left hip to position his torso upright as they lay on the bed. The lady leant her head forward again, kissing the mans cheek before using a gentle tongue to locate his mouth. He opened his mouth, a passionate engaging of tongues proceeding to follow. Their faces were so close yet neither would have known by sight, both their eyes sealed shut with relaxation. Her right hand held his side, gripping his muscles tightly. She had waited so long for this moment, and he was overcome by much the same passion. He drew his left hand down her shoulder, withdrawing her red dress and revealing a lacy dark bra. Her breasts were not huge yet they were perfect for them both. This was not such a physical attraction, yet it could quite easily have been given the beauty of both involved. A glimpse between their two pressed-together bodies showed her dark pants, an exact match for her bra. The man wore black boxer shorts, hiding very little. As they pressed their bodies together once more, the sheer delight apparent on both faces as relaxed smiles swept across their cheeks. Thin white sheets shaped themselves perfectly around the two bodies but in the sitting position, only their thighs were covered. The sheets for the mostpart hung over the side of the large bed. The lady lay backwards, creating a body-shaped crease in the sheets as she did. Her man contained his heat, instead offering himself slowly and gently over the woman. As he lowered over here, his pecs touching her breasts, he began to kiss her neck, his lips gently caressing her skin, sending shivers down her spine. The male lifted the sheet up over his backside, covering upto his upper back as he lay over the woman. She once again tilted her head backwards as he continued to kiss her neck. A moment of passion, a moment of sheer embrace. A moment of beauty. He had always been a lover. He had always been sensitive. Despite his hardened tendencies when necessary, he always had the fondest of touches for the lady in his heart, the lady in his life. When it came to his girl, he was possessive and this shone through in his everyday life. Only now did he have the woman with which he could share his life, or so he thought. Was she ready to let him travel North America? Was she willing to take what she believed was a risk in letting him loose on the reins? He didn't believe she did. And what's more, he regretted it that she didn't. They had been so close for years, shared a house for months and were settling down together. Does that mean it was his fault for having talk of upping and leaving their hometown or is it her refusal to travel alongside her partner? It seemed they had enjoyed their last moment together. |
