:cloud9:
Friday, after eating and smiling on fresh grass at dusk and blanket, and waiting to catch a glimpse of a smile and Neptune in the sky aided by lenses and mirrors, our thoughts and eyes connected again.
Intense images of possibilities make us both "blink".. "How right would that be if..."
Anxiety hits us both as I suggest retreating to a warmer private place.. She asks.."Where is this going handsome.. I am not prepared to give all of me to you if that is the premise.. my mind is not prepare for that." I smile and say "No pressure queen, that is not my intention , just to enjoy each other's company and.. whenever you are prepared, I will be heer."
Now on cozy livingroom berber, as fire light adds scene and sounds soft, conversations span from Mother Afrik to stellar theory.. spooning and whispering intellected , naked minds , fully clothed, in each other's ears.. as... she.. startled by here own thoughts.. retracks her mind to say.. "Lemme do your hair handsome brother.." smiling.
Laughing softly and welcome the proposition and the possibilities..
.. into a bathroom, kneeling at the base of antique clawfoot tub, she sits on the edge beside aher kneeling king.. and pushed my head into the stream.
Baptising words came to mind as each slender finger glides through strings and strands. "Oh what magical hands". Not beignaroused by this experience was impossible for me as this experience of water, sensation, and connection overwhelmed me as I took forceful breaths and yearned to slay her right there.. next to the tub, wet cold marble floor, naked, wet, with so many textures connecting us.
I did nto.. stayed patient and grateful kneeing concealed my body's intentions, continued to kneel and enjoy this gift. I was not alone in this. I could feel the passion in her fingers as soapy hands probed this scalp of mine, occasionally massaging now wet back, neck and shoulders.. we were there, together. With one touch.. after this.. I would sure explode all around her.
...
...Face and hair wrapped in towels.. chest, neck, and shoulders still slick and wet. I recline betwen her opened legs, as I emember doing as a afro child. Delicate hands, pat dry hair long as I lean back playfully resting the back of my wet hair between her breats, peaked before she states firmly "You wettin my shirt silly".. pushing my head gently forward again. This feels so right, back to her, sitting in between heaven, wet hair as if from the river Jordan itself.. I was whole this eve. As thin strong fingers glidded patting shea butter and olive oil onto my scalp..all I could imagine is her face, her smile her wet slick hands and fingers her now damp bra, the beating of her heart on my shoulders and back.. and how I am so into her.
Occasionally moving and parting and adjusting my roots, I would rubbing my fingers along her bent knee, thigh and calf to keep whatever contact I could with this incredible gift.. this interlude went on in this vain, no rush, seemingly for eternity but in real time close to 3 in the dawn.. and as I sense the completion hear.. all I could think of was what would be next..
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