Our first time together, John did most of the work.Our first time together, John did most of the work. I was sleeping soundly, tucked up against my pillows, when the phone rang. I answered it sleepily, and vulnerably, as it later turned out. "I just had a dream about you," John said in a whispery, breathy, eager voice. "What was it?" I asked, giggling a little and shivering with excitement. It was four o'clock in the morning, and the "noir gla'mour" of that adventurous hour enhanced the novelty of the moment. "I dreamed I was lying here in bed and you were there next to me, naked and so beautiful. It seemed so real, like I could reach out and touch you." "If I >was< there, what would you do?" I whispered, that familiar tingle awakening in my groin. "What would you like?" "I love to kiss. It turns me on a lot. Are you a good kisser?" "The best. I kiss you slowly and softly. I taste you and gently bite your lip. Then I move down and kiss your nipples. Tell me what they look like." I threw back the sheet and studied my bare breasts in the half-light of a summer morning. "The areolas are about the size of half-dollars and my nipples are about the size of pencil erasers -- perfect for nibbling. I like them nibbled on because they're not all that sensitive." "Touch them for me. Caress your tits and pinch the nipples.. how does it feel?" I did what he asked, never once thinking about faking it. "Mmmmm. It feels wonderful. |