She felt the dopamine, the aesthetic endeavours immediately informing her emotional intelligence that she was ready, willing, more than able and most certainly, aware. Her violation of expectation momentarily peaking as, he, him, that person who had changed quite a few moments within her life, did what he often did.
The music played all around, loud, but not too loud as to take anything away from any of her other senses. He’d found the tones, the audible sensation that set her body, as well as mind, into a calm, knowing sense of expectation. It was one thing to embrace her body, but another to think of more than just a moment’s indulgence. That, of course, was nice, but this… this, was something else. She smiled, as she placed her head onto the chair’s soft, comfortable covering. Her skin was already dancing with anticipation, the expectant notions swirling and whirling within.
The cushions surrounded her, comforted her body, as she felt
the soft textures press gently against her skin. This place, this scene, the
moments he’d subjected her to, were something to remember and recall. It wasn’t
often that she’d meet someone so attentive and yet, it wasn’t about the act,
but the art and performance behind his actions. Words meant nothing without the
actions to empower them.
The room, warm, comforting, the lights turned all the way
down with the faint scent of cinnamon rising around her, seemingly holding her
close. There was a soft, calming sense to him and, as she knew, he brought that
calm with him wherever they went. He was ‘for’ her, thinking of her, actually
considering her needs which was a rare element.
He was also, unexpectedly, quite quiet. Charming. Aloof.
Imaginative. Additional, most of all, delightfully physically toned as to peek
her roaming subconscious. She was aware of her actions, to a point, as well as
the nature of her own thoughts, desires, needs and most certainly, what she
wanted. Almost, to a point, selfish in her endeavours for the pleasure of the
soul. She’d been to some of there, had a slice of that, but as she’d just
thought, this was it. The all or nothing, ever again. The sublime to the
settling. The now and always forever type of connection.
She stopped her thoughts, slowing time, as well as her
breathing as she sensed him. She wasn’t permitted to look. She wasn’t asked to
speak, as right at this moment, it was all about feeling. The music, the notes,
flowing over her as her expectations grew. He was always so unexpected, so very
random and yet, mostly ignored in many ways. She couldn’t place her thoughts,
as to why he was, and why he did what he did. He was a mystery, a quandary, a
knowing that might never actually be understood.
She felt the hairs on her arms move as his fingertips found
the outer side of her legs. She smiled another small, delicious, knowing,
expectant smile, as he moved his fingers slowly up her legs. Just enough
pressure, that little knowing touch, to stimulate her thoughts. He moved up and
around, gently, running along her inner thigh and back out to the sides of her
stomach. His touch, preparing her body, informing her senses, telling them to
prepare for what would evidently happen.
He moved his fingers between her breasts, finding the sides
of her neck, around her ear, until he massaged her head for a few seconds. She
loved to be touched, as the music once again tempted her senses, the coiled
spring within her tightening ever so slightly. His touch returned to her skin,
moving along the outer side of her arms and then, as he returned to her
sternum, she felt his lips upon hers. She kissed him, softly, tenderly, her
body responding thoroughly. Her energy, rising, as her calmly beating heart
found rhythm with her breath. His lips left hers, wanting, needing a little
more. His touch moved around her breasts once again, the underside enjoying the
warmth and movement, as he finally, knowingly, moved his attention to where she
needed it most of all. He’d been teasing her for over twenty minutes and,
despite eagerly wanting to rush ahead, she’d finally learned to appreciate the
attentive nature of time.
He called all of this frisson. She’d forgotten the science
stuff, lost within the implementation and practical implications of said word. His
touch moved downward, exploring. The thoughts fell, immediately, as he pressed
his lips to hers, his fingertips finding the underside of her legs. With ease,
he swirled his touch around her lips, not too much, just enough for her body to
tense ever so slightly at the sensation. The music, his touch, his lips and
more importantly, his tongue, fed her body dopamine and in a few moments, that
beautiful oxytocin would arrive.
He teased, swirling his random lips and tongue around her,
not willing to start the inevitable dance towards that release of so much
tension. The week, the moments, the utter grind of living, all let go within
seconds. She wanted to put her hands onto his head, but she knew that she
wasn’t permitted to do so. She would stay in place, confined to comfort.
He continued, placing his lower lip over her, just enough,
just that little bit of pressure and pleasure for her legs to tighten. It was a
little too much for her, but not enough for anything to stop. He moved his lip,
over and over again, his tongue finding her, ever so often as to tease. She
could feel the energy building, rising within her, the waves pushing her
closer.
A few more seconds, his lips moving, flowing over her, her
body finally convulsing as every ounce of tension and pleasure let go. She
pressed her legs against his head, her hands finally allowed to move, pressing
his head and lips harder onto her, as he back arched and gave in to the moment.
She laughed, smiled, giggling to herself at the pleasure. Moving her hips, as
he pressed his tongue against her, she moved up and down ever so slightly as
the sensations continued until, at last, she could take no more.
Her body relaxed, her breath shallowing, as her mind started
to spin with delight. She didn’t really care how, or why, as long as he
continued doing exactly what he was doing. Surprising her, enticing her, pleasing
and pleasuring her, with that thing he called frisson.
