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As I kissed you I caressed your breasts with my fingers. My thumbs twirled about your erect nipples and it pleased me to hear your squeals of delight and moans of lust. I kissed them and sucked on them softly and they became hard. Somehow you were laying back and your legs parted. Hidden beneath the hair I knew that there were wet lips that had swollen open. Wetness had stuck down some of the hair to your flesh and I massaged the soft flesh of your inner thigh and your legs opened further. Sliding my body between your legs I allowed my body to lay over yours. I gloried with the feel of your nipples drilling into my chest, the feel of your soft curves against my muscular body. The tip of my cock touched your pussylips as I guided it into the open slot. All that filled the air was the sound of our laboured breathing and the softness of our groans of need and desire. I slipped my cock between your lips and opened you further. Your hands clawed at my back and you cried with the pleasure. I wanted to touch him and I wanted him near me so I could smell his after shave and hear one of his stupid stories about Italy. The next day found me as a mess. My heart started to ache around noon that day, I was sure it was because I missed him so. The problem with three words seemed stupid now, insignificant and small. I became angry at myself for being so scared of every little thing in this world, for being a wimp, for only having the courage to touch him when he wanted to hear my words too. God, it was so frustrating to see how stupid I have been. Stupid, stupid little hang ups that just make me unhappy, that make us unhappy. ‘Damn.’ I said aloud. ‘Damn. Damn. Damn!’ The remainder of the week went in the same feelings. For the life of me I could not understand why it had been so difficult for me to speak my mind. Such a little thing as that seemed like the biggest hurdle. I felt like I didn’t know the person I was last week, timid over such an issue. Having such a shift.
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