A moment had always arrived between us when kissing to explore a kiss, or kissing turning toward lovemaking had approached. As my London shopping spree sweater had disappeared over my head, and I was soon lying on a sheet and blanket in the back of the Range Rover, something else changed between us, too.
She had said, “I love you.”
“I want you,” was how raw I had felt, as my skin had appeared quickly, where my clothes had been.
“Do you think anyone will come?” I’d asked, as she’d covered my body with hers, so strong and ready to beat against me. I could feel her inside me already, even though she wasn’t yet there.
“I want to lose myself with you today.” I had whispered, as she had licked down my body.
“I like that. You know I do.” She had smiled between kisses on my belly.
“I love you, too.”
“Your body does something to my tongue. It makes it taste more.” She had licked inside my thighs tasting me.
“Oh God, don’t talk anymore, okay?” I had begged, and she had smiled at me, before taking me into her mouth, and for long, long moments that almost throbbing too much — was all there was.
In Wales was the longest I’d ever been able to maintain those shuddering waves of pleasure. It was a new place we had found, and it was erotic. It was something that was mostly mine. It was my negotiation with her tongue.
A tongue that was its own holy entity, I had decided after a year with her. When moving over me, I swear to God I could feel it listening.
There are oral fixations, and then there is mastery. I have chosen not to try to solve its mysterious knowledge of me, especially when it’s very, very hard to think straight.
“Please come inside me, I’m so ready. So ready.”
“I thought we weren’t talking?” She had licked me.
“Please come here.” I had felt her mouth on my breast, and I had curled my hands through her hair, so she couldn’t escape.
Her tongue’s attention had felt hot against my nipples chilled and wet and hard. “Baby, don’t tease me anymore. I’m yours.
“The Druids, they knew magic didn’t they?” I had felt her fingering the edges of me, still not doing what I’d asked.
“Very old magic, gypsies still know some of it.”