AffectionateDan
1st Level Black Feather
- Joined
- Jan 3, 2002
- Messages
- 8,117
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...Just something I've been toying with for a while now. I've been tempted to post things I've written before, but I keep procrastinating. It's not about anyone in particular, more about anyone who identifies with it. This is more a little blurb of tender mush than a tickle story, but the price is right, so be kind...
Submitted for your approval, my first effort--
He sat watching her sleep for some time...
...as she lay sprawled across the bed diagonally, murmuring in her sleep, no doubt from bizarre dreams brought on from the combination of white zinfandel and antihistamines. Her restless movements had tossed back the bed linens, so most of her was visible, a visual feast usually hidden beneath the covers. Her choice of sleepwear he found to be a combination of amusing, yet provocative and sexy in it's innocent simplicity... a man's button-down blue chambray dress shirt, plain white cotton panties, and those cute little white half-socks. The shirt was like a tent on her, obviously that of a man of some size. This too had been moved around by her occasional rolling, so one side of it had ridden up, offering a tantalizing peek at her hip, a slice of bare tummy, and just a hint of where the bellybutton was beginning. Just watching the rise and fall of her abdomen as she breathed was a little arousing. The siren's call of that tender, bared flesh was powerful. It begged him to get up, cross over to the bed, and gently stroke it with fingertips, with lips... but he remained seated, savoring the moment. Eyes caressing her supine form, they travel the length of her body time and again. Those tiny, adorable feet that she works so hard to keep smooth and pretty, warm and snug in their ridiculous little socks that looked so damned cute. Sleek, supple calves, and oh, someone must've worn a dress to work, seeing as they'd been shaved recently. Tender, smooth thighs, silky and inviting, and so wonderfully sensitive. Hips that denied that this was a mother of two, much less in her thirties, hips that girls fifteen years her junior would envy. And ohhhhhhhhh, that warm, delicious, oh-so-soft bare midriff, with it's precious navel calling yet again for tender attention. Proud, well-proportioned breasts, still thumbing their noses at gravity, not too big or too small, and sensitive as the day is long. Soft, small shoulders, and that neck, oh, that NECK, no, easy there, big fellah. All in good time. So tempting! But not just yet. Her hair, even in disarray from restless sleep, framing that deceptively angelic face. He DID get up now, moving quietly, and sitting on the edge of the mattress, still gazing down fondly. Leaning down ever so slowly, with infinite care not to rouse her, he inhales the scent of her hair... how is it that women always smell so fresh and wonderful? Countless times, he'd stopped whatever he was doing, wherever it happened to be, as he'd caught a wiff of that scent, often after she'd passed through, or brushed her hair, to breathe in and savor that fragrance. Tenderly, he reaches down, and softly runs his fingers through her bangs, eliciting a soft sigh of pleasure, and she stirs, then rolls onto her side, murmuring. Still more of her skin is bared now, her side, just the barest glipse of the bottom of her ribs, and the small of her back. The temptation to place light, tickling kisses is nearly overwhelming. Iron-willed, he resists, knowing that there'll be plenty of time for that when she's awake to better appreciate such attentions. He grins at the thought, stifles one of his renowned menacing chuckles. Plenty of time. He gently reaches down and pulls the sheet up over her legs, lest the draft wake her and deny him this precious, peaceful time. Again he runs his fingers through her luxuriant hair, and is again rewarded with a sleepy sigh of contentment, and he lays slowly beside her, almost spooned together, but with enough space between them for him to still caress her with little effort. She giggles in her sleep, and he smiles again, imagining what she's dreaming about. Fondly, he strokes her cheek with the back of one hand. She moves again, and he freezes, but she's just wiggling, and settles down soon. Although, the motion of those hips and backside beneath the sheet is very inviting. Giving in to the temptation, he slips closer, and almost as though magnetic, she slides toward him simultaneously. Pressed against each other, he drapes his upper arm over her, softly caressing her hip, sliding his hand lightly but firmlyover her side, down her tummy, and back, relishing the silken softness of her skin under his hand, while burying his face in her hair on the pillow, inhaling her again and again. Bliss. He slides his upper leg up and rubs it along the length of hers, and he banishes his arousal once more. Her leg slips down, between his, and for an instant, he suspects she's awake but playing possum, but she's not, just unconsciously responding to his presence. Hugging her to him, he kisses her shoulder, while at the same time, gently dragging his toes across her sole, from the toes to the heel. Her foot jerks reflexively, but she doesn't wake, and he grins. Sleep comes stealthily to him, and they lay like that, molded in the comfort of each other's warmth.
Life is good.
Submitted for your approval, my first effort--
He sat watching her sleep for some time...
...as she lay sprawled across the bed diagonally, murmuring in her sleep, no doubt from bizarre dreams brought on from the combination of white zinfandel and antihistamines. Her restless movements had tossed back the bed linens, so most of her was visible, a visual feast usually hidden beneath the covers. Her choice of sleepwear he found to be a combination of amusing, yet provocative and sexy in it's innocent simplicity... a man's button-down blue chambray dress shirt, plain white cotton panties, and those cute little white half-socks. The shirt was like a tent on her, obviously that of a man of some size. This too had been moved around by her occasional rolling, so one side of it had ridden up, offering a tantalizing peek at her hip, a slice of bare tummy, and just a hint of where the bellybutton was beginning. Just watching the rise and fall of her abdomen as she breathed was a little arousing. The siren's call of that tender, bared flesh was powerful. It begged him to get up, cross over to the bed, and gently stroke it with fingertips, with lips... but he remained seated, savoring the moment. Eyes caressing her supine form, they travel the length of her body time and again. Those tiny, adorable feet that she works so hard to keep smooth and pretty, warm and snug in their ridiculous little socks that looked so damned cute. Sleek, supple calves, and oh, someone must've worn a dress to work, seeing as they'd been shaved recently. Tender, smooth thighs, silky and inviting, and so wonderfully sensitive. Hips that denied that this was a mother of two, much less in her thirties, hips that girls fifteen years her junior would envy. And ohhhhhhhhh, that warm, delicious, oh-so-soft bare midriff, with it's precious navel calling yet again for tender attention. Proud, well-proportioned breasts, still thumbing their noses at gravity, not too big or too small, and sensitive as the day is long. Soft, small shoulders, and that neck, oh, that NECK, no, easy there, big fellah. All in good time. So tempting! But not just yet. Her hair, even in disarray from restless sleep, framing that deceptively angelic face. He DID get up now, moving quietly, and sitting on the edge of the mattress, still gazing down fondly. Leaning down ever so slowly, with infinite care not to rouse her, he inhales the scent of her hair... how is it that women always smell so fresh and wonderful? Countless times, he'd stopped whatever he was doing, wherever it happened to be, as he'd caught a wiff of that scent, often after she'd passed through, or brushed her hair, to breathe in and savor that fragrance. Tenderly, he reaches down, and softly runs his fingers through her bangs, eliciting a soft sigh of pleasure, and she stirs, then rolls onto her side, murmuring. Still more of her skin is bared now, her side, just the barest glipse of the bottom of her ribs, and the small of her back. The temptation to place light, tickling kisses is nearly overwhelming. Iron-willed, he resists, knowing that there'll be plenty of time for that when she's awake to better appreciate such attentions. He grins at the thought, stifles one of his renowned menacing chuckles. Plenty of time. He gently reaches down and pulls the sheet up over her legs, lest the draft wake her and deny him this precious, peaceful time. Again he runs his fingers through her luxuriant hair, and is again rewarded with a sleepy sigh of contentment, and he lays slowly beside her, almost spooned together, but with enough space between them for him to still caress her with little effort. She giggles in her sleep, and he smiles again, imagining what she's dreaming about. Fondly, he strokes her cheek with the back of one hand. She moves again, and he freezes, but she's just wiggling, and settles down soon. Although, the motion of those hips and backside beneath the sheet is very inviting. Giving in to the temptation, he slips closer, and almost as though magnetic, she slides toward him simultaneously. Pressed against each other, he drapes his upper arm over her, softly caressing her hip, sliding his hand lightly but firmlyover her side, down her tummy, and back, relishing the silken softness of her skin under his hand, while burying his face in her hair on the pillow, inhaling her again and again. Bliss. He slides his upper leg up and rubs it along the length of hers, and he banishes his arousal once more. Her leg slips down, between his, and for an instant, he suspects she's awake but playing possum, but she's not, just unconsciously responding to his presence. Hugging her to him, he kisses her shoulder, while at the same time, gently dragging his toes across her sole, from the toes to the heel. Her foot jerks reflexively, but she doesn't wake, and he grins. Sleep comes stealthily to him, and they lay like that, molded in the comfort of each other's warmth.
Life is good.
That's beautiful, man.
