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Some mornings she is clinging to me, as a child does to her mother, and sometimes she is on the other side of the bed, except for one hand brushing mine. We always wake touching. I always wake first.
She has beautiful hair, though of course she doesn't like it. It is a
rich shade of brown and curls softly about her face. It always smells of
spring and the outdoors, even when it is tangled and sweaty when we cling
together after making love.
I rise up on one elbow to see her better. She never sleeps covered up, as if she doesn't feel the cold, or is daring it to touch her. This morning she is sprawled across half of the bed, utterly abandoned. I love her body. She complains that she should lose weight, but I secretly hope she doesn't. She is soft all over, feminine. She is all curves; full breasts,generous hips, a gently sloping stomach. She is a painter's dream, and mine.
I draw myself up to kiss her on the mouth. Her tongue seeks mine, her
eyes never opening. Her hands begin to explore my body tentatively, as if
she doesn't want to scare me. I draw a line to her ear with my tongue, sucking
on her earlobe, making her softly shudder.
Her hand takes my own, drawing it downward. I slip a finger inside
her, making her writhe before I move my fingertip to where she wants me, where
she is most sensitive.
I rub her so slowly, and she whimpers until I speed up
a little. She pulls me against her, her breasts crushing against mine as her
nails dig into my back. I let my hand move faster, until her hips
thrust against me and her face is flushed. She breathes my name and I kiss
her deeply as she begins to lose control. When I feel her first spasm I slip
one finger inside her to feel her contract around me. She clings to me, her
face buried in my shoulder, her hair blinding us both.
She kisses my neck as her body goes limp. Gathering her to me, I hold her close, the closeness more important than anything else. I want to protect her forever like this. I wish I could shelter her from memories of the people who hurt her, but I can't. So for now closeness is enough. --s.o.