My Cyber Lover

My Cyber Lover
His eyes do it. They say so much, and at times reveal so little, but right now, his mind is wide open as he stares into my eyes. He makes me melt. My tummy flips all over the place, and it is such a delicious sensation knowing that he hasn’t had to lift a finger, or raise an eyebrow, to make me crumble this way. Putty in his hands. His eyes are soft, the laugh lines at the corners showing the slightest movement that always signals a smile, and yes, there it is, and I am totally lost – what is it this man has that gives him such power over me? And why don’t I fight him?

He reaches over to me, his slightly tanned hand contrasting beautifully with my very dark, deep all over tan. Our eyes are locked as his fingers start the slow spider walk up my forearm, over my bicep to my shoulder, and from head to toe my skin bursts into goose bumps, and if I wasn’t an Indian my skin would be flushed, I can feel the heat of excitement growing beneath the surface. His hand moves across my shoulder to my neck, and then he buries his fingers in my hair as he gently moves my head towards his, our eyes locked as our lips touch, and I am so ecstatic I can’t stop my eyes closing, I feel his tongue probing softly, meeting my tongue, and he tastes so divine, better than vintage wine, better than the best Swiss chocolate, so exclusively, uniquely him. He lets my tongue probe his mouth, and then he returns the compliment. I am conscious of his hand moving so that my head is resting in the crook of his arm. Somehow our bodies have moved closer together, and he has rolled slightly so I am aware of the heat of his body, but even more aware of the serious stirrings of his penis, as it becomes engorged with blood, and rises along my thigh, and very soon is fully charged, throbbing, pressed urgently against my thigh and my hip.

While he cradles my head in the crook of his left arm his hand gently strokes the slope of my breast, stopping at the crest to tease the nipple, tweak it, pinch it gently, and then continue to stroke the firm, taut mound. He is an expert – his other hand slides down over my ribcage, slowly across my tummy, lingers at my navel, teasing it softly and then continues down, down, down to the apex of my legs. I have no control over my legs as they part, knowing that soon he will explore the soft, wet cavity. But he teases me even more, his hand sliding down over my thigh to my knee, and I bend my leg so he can reach my calf. I am helpless, I grip his incredibly strong bicep in my hand, I have to feel him, feel his skin, and I stroke his arm. Our tongues are doing the dance of lovers, twirling in each other’s mouths, tasting the excitement. Our breathing is heavy and coordinated, my breasts rising to meet his hard chest, and I enjoy the feeling of the hair covering him. He moves his hips slightly, I am aware of his penis pressing against my hip and I realize that a large drop of precum has settled on my thigh. I hope he will let me suck him so I can savour the taste of things to cum.

The increasing urgency of our need makes us move at the same time, as his hand crawls up my inner thigh and settles gently, covering my swollen, wet lips, my hand moves from his bicep down over his flat, hard stomach.