Jen described last night as this:
he leans over and kisses me. Soft, full lips meeting mine, his warm tongue darting out to explore and I suck on it. I explore his face with deft fingers, trace his lower lip with my thumb and he sucks it into his mouth. Our mouths meet again. More intense. Hunger and need. We won’t let go. He pulls me onto his lap and snakes a hand up under my skirt to finger my lacy panties while kissing me.
He carries me upstairs to his bed. He holds my head against his chest, under his chin.
He peels my clothes off, damp from the rain. He peels my panties off, damp from wanting him. He presses his body on mine, his warm skin heating me, his arms on the bed on either side of me, his hands holding my hair from my forehead as he locks his mouth on mine.
And then the dance. The panting. Eyes watching me in the dark. Gently, gently, he moves around me and in me, claiming me in every possible sense, his scent on me, his fingers twisted in my hair as he gasps out. His heart beating to the rhythm of the rain.
Almost exactly the same. However, she started with a date, dinner, and running through the rain. We started with her calling me at 10 to see if she could randomly drop by, watching some Letterman, and then starting to make out.
Afterwards I made her listen to Ryan Adams (the happy stuff) and played around until it was time for her to head home.
