Your fingers run over me, like a soft breeze, hardly touching, but felt so deeply. My eyes remain closed, we both know I'm not sleeping, but the senses are sometimes so susceptible and right now I want to skip any visual cues ... You don't always understand that, I know how visually oriented you are, but sometimes looking into your eyes or at your full sensual mouth, it's too much for my brain to process. And so my eyes remain closed, but I moan as your tongue glides and swirls around first one hardened nipple and then the other, flicking at my tips with the tip of your tongue and then I feel the raw edge of your teeth. I shiver and thread my fingers into your hair, play with your ear lobe - tugging ever so softly. My fingers move to touch your cheek, raspy with the days growth of beard. I don't have to open my eyes to know that you are full focused on the nipple you have drawn deep into your mouth, nipping at it, sometimes not so gently. I put all my effort into remaining calm and still, but the bite of your teeth is sending shivers up and down my spine.

You shift for a moment and I feel your tongue under my breast, nose nuzzling further. Everytime we are together you do some little thing differently, you know the things I like, but you continue testing my reflexes and nerve endings, always looking for some new move to tempt and torture me with, I love that, I love feeling like you spend hours thinking about me when we are not together.

I'm not very good at holding still when you are storming my defenses, your hand roams lower, skipping from my waste to my knees and the inside of my leg - you do soft and gentle circles against my skin, touching everywhere, but always just skimming across areas I long for you to center your attention on. You continue until I finally take your hand and hold it to me, pushing at your fingers, asking for your touch with just my hands. I feel your smile against my breast. You always find this side of me entertaining, in every other situation I'm something of a chatterbox, but here, in the privacy of our time together, with lights turned low and the comfort of a good mattress (or any other location where we are touching in this way), words fail me, I am quiet ... I know you long to tempt the words off my tongue, you always try, not used to the silence from me, but that part of my brain is shut down whenever I feel the heat of your gaze, passionate, primal and yet deeply protective. How can I speak words when you steel the breath from me with that look.