Niagara Ever After

Ah, Niagara Falls, the "Honeymoon Capital of the World." Largely because of its touristy and nuptial nature, she had long thought of it as commonplace, a cliché that she had no interest in experiencing.  For many jaded years, when she had happened to read or hear about the Falls, she had unconsciously, inwardly deflated, jealously imagining, without even realizing she was doing so, the insufferable droves of happy, giddy, silly newlyweds that would surely cover the place, publicly flaunting their lusty happiness.  This would have hurt her sad, lonely heart, especially as she'd grown older, failed at finding love as a young woman, then later failed at marriage, so she had mercifully never let these thoughts bubble up to her consciousness, and so the Falls had remained a distant geographical fact to her, not much more. Yet, here she found herself, years later, so much about her self and her life now changed, transformed by choices, the ravages of time, hard work, and love from jaded to captivated. Through new eyes, she saw only the majesty, wonder, and beauty of God's handiwork as she stared out the window of their hotel room, soaking in the breathtaking view of Niagara Falls as it glowed beautifully bright in the darkness of the night, illuminated from within. She smiled at the parallel as she basked in the warmth of her own blazing inner glow.

They hadn't thought to turn on the lights of the room when they'd arrived--the view of the Falls, framed perfectly by the uncurtained sliding glass door of the balcony, had taken center stage, had drawn them in, had even distracted them from their focus on each other, albeit briefly.  The room was dim, but not dark, the light from the Falls and the moon lending a soft visibility. She wore a simple, flattering and form-enhancing deep red dress, along with a shimmery, semi-sheer black wrap around her shoulders that nicely accentuated her pale skin and long dark hair.  He was dapper in his dark gray suit, gray and red tie, and white dress shirt, his blue eyes shining with happiness and anticipation. The room was spacious, clean, and tasteful, decorated in a rich, retro style.  She had kicked off her shoes and tossed her purse onto the bed before walking to the window for a peek at the view.  He was close behind after kicking off his shoes, taking off his watch, emptying his pockets, and removing his tie.

He moved in close behind her, wrapping both arms around her from behind, holding her close against him. He rested his head on her shoulder, joining her in appreciating the view. It was truly beautiful, even awe-inspiring, but tonight he had other things on his mind. His chin was buried in her hair, pinning it against her neck and shoulder. He breathed deeply of its scent, reminiscent of fresh citrus, closing his eyes to enjoy it, the feel of her in his arms, and the feel of her body pressed close against his. He trembled imperceptibly as she moved her hands up to his, embracing his embrace, snuggling into him even closer, one of her hands slowly moving to caress his arm just above the wrist. Touch was and always had been the native language of their love, and he heard the meaning in her caress more loudly and clearly than if she were telling him with all the words in the world. Her gentle circling fingers told him how deeply he was loved, how passionately wanted, and how acutely appreciated, admired and respected; each caress thanked him for all that he was, and especially all that he was to her. He squeezed her tightly, a nearly-silent growl of desire escaping within his sudden, unsteady exhale. He couldn't see her face, but he knew she heard him, and he knew she felt his burning for her.

He had all but caught fire on the plane ride earlier--they both had--as her hand had slipped beneath the blanket, into his lap, teasing him, stroking and squeezing his throbbing, needy hardness through his suit pants, while she slowly kissed, sucked, nibbled and licked his hungry lips and tongue in the darkness of the cabin. When his hand had slid under the blanket, up her thigh, between her parted legs, up inside her dress to her warmth, then under her panties to sneak a probe inside of her, her wetness had given plenty of evidence that she wanted and needed him just as much as he wanted and needed her. Face-to-face, and lost in each other for hours, their heavy, slow, unsteady breaths had intermingled as they both silently rose to a near-painful state of arousal. "Whose idea was it to wait for the honeymoon to finally, fully have each other, anyway?" he'd tried to remember. They had fought so hard, had hurt and been hurt by each other, had nearly lost each other, and had sacrificed so much for so very long, in order to remain true to their morals and beliefs; it was only logical and right that they'd waited, but there had been many moments, like the plane ride, when it seemed a bit silly, given their ages, their history, and the lifetime they had already loved and waited for each other. He was just glad the wait was finally almost over.

Pressed close against her like this, from behind, he suddenly remembered the night, so long ago, when he had touched her for the first time. They had both been so young, and so naive.  He had been drawn to her in so many ways--in every way--like a moth to a flame, and for years he had fought catching fire, but not that night. He had been pressed up against her back just like this, as they lay in the floor together, on their sides, pretending to watch TV, but both breathless, focused on nothing beyond the feel of the closeness of each other. He remembered how he couldn't resist letting his arm slip around her body, pulling her close against him, then sliding his hand up under the waist band of her shirt to finally caress her softest skin. With that one motion, they'd been lost, the line crossed, the floodgates opened, the built-up feelings and desires of years rushing in, exposed as the dangerous, destructive force that they were. And when she had spun within his arms to face him, trembling, when her lips had met his with the unfiltered fullness of her overwhelming love and unbridled passion, when her arms had held him back, answering, even surpassing his own burning desire, they had been lost, and utterly terrified. That one night changed the course of everything, and set them on a path of lifelong struggle between loving each other and doing the right thing. Oh, the ups and the downs they had faced to bring them to this place, now, here today! What an incredible blaze of passion and tears there was in the wake of their secret story! 

He could never doubt her; she had loved him faithfully, selflessly and completely, even when he'd had nothing at all to offer her in return, even when he'd tried his best to convince her his feelings had changed, that he no longer wanted her, in hopes that she might move on and find happiness.  She never gave up on him or stopped believing in him for a second, even when he hurt her, even when his situation caused him to abandon her at times. When he'd inevitably gone looking for her again, she was always, without fail, right where he'd left her, waiting for him, loving him with a hopeful heart, without hesitation or demand.  He silently thanked God, like so many times before, that they had managed to endure it, survive it together, and that they had emerged on the other side of it stronger, and fused in a way that nothing could ever shake.

His fever for her had not lessened since the flight, only growing as the plane descended, as she continued to kiss and touch and tease him on the long taxi ride to the hotel, as they silently checked in, their minds unable to focus on anything but getting alone together, at last. The elevator ride, full of too many people and broken by too many stops, seemed endless, as they exchanged lusty, playful smiles in silence.  As the elevator approached their floor, he had taken it up a notch, making sure her eyes were locked onto his, before he lifted his finger, the one that had probed her wetness on the plane, up to his nose for a sniff.  He could see her trembling as she blushed, then inhaled deeply, trying her best to remain steady just the few more minutes until they could make it to their room and finally be alone together.  Their foreplay had simmered steadily for so many years and decades, then churned at a rolling boil for so many hours that they were both in serious danger of overcooking.

He lifted his chin from the crook of her neck, pulled the shimmery wrap from her shoulders, dropping it to the floor, then he gathered her long dark hair, moving it aside to expose her soft, creamy-white neck. He stared down at it a moment it in the dim light, soaking in the sight of her, alone at last, his at long last. He leaned forward, first running his evening scruff slowly along her neck, then beginning to explore her exposed skin with his lips, appreciating and intensifying the goose bumps that rose from her depths with every contact he made. Her soft, breathy moans of pleasure and emotion made his cock jump from semi-hard to full attention in an instant. Nothing aroused him more than giving her pleasure and seeing, hearing or feeling the evidence of it; her moan was intoxicating.  As he continued to massage her neck, then her shoulder with his slow, deliberate, loving kisses, he gripped her tightly in his arms, then pressed his hardness firmly and deliberately against her rear.

She felt a wave of electricity race down her spine, across her shoulders, and down her arms as his lips traced the curve of her neck. She wondered if he realized that her neck was her weak spot, her Achilles heel, her instant-on button. As he kissed the side of her neck, then slid her sleeve down, allowing him to continue following along the curve of her shoulder, she again began to tremble. When he pressed his hardness roughly against her back, she felt an instant pulse of increasing desire and a surge of growing wetness deep inside.  She had wanted him for so long; she was far beyond ready to be taken--roughly or gently, slowly or quickly, she didn't even care at this point--she just wanted and needed him to be inside of her. She thought with eagerness, as well as vague amusement how surprised her body would be to finally receive what it had longed for and begged for for so many long, lonely decades of wanting, preparing and readying for him, time after time after torturous time as they had teased, even touched, and come close to giving in to their love and the temptation of one another! Her brain scrambled a bit, her clarity and acuity becoming compromised as she fixated on one thought: him finally entering her.

Such delicious delirium! She was under his spell, and let herself go, gladly welcoming the feeling of falling deeper and deeper into his enchantment.  She was overdosing on his physical presence.  His manly whiskers against her skin, his strong, safe arms close around her, his cock pressed against her back, his lips, his love all began to expand and grow to fill her mind, her heart and her world. There was simply no room for anything else tonight; she quickly became the embodiment of true physical love in the form of sex, desire, surrender, giving, pleasing, merging. She was on fire from within, physically and emotionally in equal parts. She unconsciously, primally, instinctively wanted--urgently needed--to give him everything his heart and body and spirit desired, and then try to find ways of giving him more, for all his remaining days.  But tonight, she thought with a smile, his body would certainly take precedence.  She pressed back against his hardness, through far too many layers of clothing, then rotated her hips, moving against him with a few slow circles, stroking him with her curves as her hands held tight to his.  She heard the soft moan of desire and anticipation escape her throat long before she realized she was the one making it.

Still trembling, she turned to face him, his arms still around her, now hers around his neck, reaching up, pulling him desperately to her lips. They melted and melded into a frenzy of rough, desperate, deep kisses; groans and moans and gasps of desire and need; loud, heavy breathing; racing heartbeats; exploring hands, as passion was finally, vigorously unbridled between them. He reached down behind her, his hands on her rear, kneading, pulling her roughly against his cock, then sliding lower to the backs of her thighs, wasting no time, moving up under her dress, sliding it up, up, up as his hands again reached her rear. He stopped for a moment, shocked; her rear was completely bare! His eyes wide with surprise, he looked into hers as she let out the slightest seductive, playful laugh. She pulled her mouth from his, just long enough to whisper, "check your left jacket pocket," before her lips and tongue attacked his again. Mouths united, he managed to reach one hand into his jacket pocket and sure enough, there they were--he could feel the wad of slightly wet panties in his hand. He wondered when she had taken them off, when she had slipped them into his pocket. Wow, she was a wild, passionate woman, and he loved, wanted and needed every bit of her with a strength that both stunned and revitalized him!

He stepped back a half step, then unceremoniously lifted her dress up, over her head, tossing it to the floor without taking his eyes off her. He was surprised again to see her standing there, completely naked, except for a simple necklace around her neck, and of course the brand new, sparkling ring on her finger. But, where had that nice red bra gone? He knew she'd had it on when they were on the plane; before the lights went off he hadn't been able to take his eyes off the curve of her breasts, sneaking a peak as often as he could down the front of her dress to catch a glimpse of the inviting redness and creamy skin underneath, and of course sneaking some gropes and squeezes in the dark, where he could feel the material barring his way to her skin. He distinctly remembered flicking and pinching those hard, reactive nipples through the red material; he couldn't have imagined it. She stepped forward a half step, reached into his other jacket pocket and pulled out a second wad of fabric; this time it was her red bra. She smiled, then took an end in each hand, raising her hands up and over his head, then using the bra like a large hook around the back of his neck, she pulled him back close against her.

She soon let the bra fall to the floor, then in one swift motion her hand slipped down to the lapel of his jacket, opening it as he shrugged to help her remove it. He let the other arm fall and the jacket drop to the floor, her hands having already moved to unbuttoning his shirt. While she finished with the buttons, he unbuckled his belt, then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.  Just before he could slip out of his lower clothes, she took over, reaching down, sliding a hand inside his underwear, lifting and positioning his cock upward, sliding deliberately along the smoothness of the skin of his over-hard manhood.  Distracted, he unbuttoned his cuffs, shedding his dress shirt, then peeled off his undershirt and tossed it onto the pile. She let his pants fall to the floor, his feet still within them, as she remained focused on stroking his throbbing, sensitive erection. "Ohhh god... oh goddddddddd" he moaned, inhaling sharply, closing his eyes, the sensation of her direct touch, skin-on-skin making him weak in the knees. His closed eyes prevented him from realizing she was slowly sinking onto her knees in front of him.

Still stroking him, squeezing him, tending carefully to his arousal and pleasure, she used the other hand to peel back his black underwear, lowering them to his mid-thighs.  She then looked up, slowly taking in the sight of his body, the body of the man she loved, exposed and naked in front of her, his cock inches from her eyes, hard from her loving touch, hard because of how much he wanted her, hard because he was about to finally have her; she was overwhelmed for a moment. She was thankful for his closed eyes; she didn't want to disrupt the intensity and flow of this occasion with her overblown emotions, but the love and gratitude welling up in her was almost too much. Her hand continued to stroke and squeeze his now-bare cock, but with a bit of gentleness and tenderness beginning to slip in to temper her previously frenzied attack. Her other hand moved slowly up to explore his inner thighs, then the sensitive sack between his legs, so gently, barely touching, teasing. Soon she opened her mouth wide, taking the head of his cock into her mouth, sucking and licking him into her warmth like an overgrown French kiss.

He was surprised when her mouth slipped onto him; he hadn't realized she was down there, and wasn't expecting her warm, wet mouth so soon. He worried a bit; he had been hard and aroused for so long that his cock was almost too sensitive to the wonderfulness she was bestowing upon him. Each swirl of her gentle tongue, every suck of her mouth, every bob of her head, every touch, curled his toes, making him almost scream out in reaction to too much stimulation of his over-sensitive nerves. He was grateful for the noticeable gentleness that had crept into her touch. The feel of her mouth on him was astonishing, very nearly too much so. He held his breath and fought, with difficulty, to control his reactions, to calm his nerves to a sustainable level, and to keep his cum from erupting into her at the first thrust she made further down onto his shaft. He avoided opening his eyes, knowing that the sight of her there, kneeling on the floor in front of him, naked, her green eyes full of love undoubtedly staring up at him as she eagerly gave this pleasure to him would be the final straw and he'd lose all hope of control.  He reached down with one hand, wanting to stroke her silky hair…

Knock! Knock! Knock!  Fellatius Interruptus!  In their desire for one another they had failed to remember that the bell boy would be bringing up their luggage!  They were both sent scrambling by the startling knock as they begrudgingly crashed back into reality.  She ran to hide herself from view.  He quickly pulled his underwear back up from his thighs, then pulled up his pants from around his ankles, throwing on his undershirt as he walked toward the door.  He clicked on a lamp near the door, then received the luggage, doing his best to hide his aroused state as he forced politeness through small talk with the overly chatty bell boy.  He was relieved when he was finally able to tip him, thank him and close the door.  He made sure to put a "Do Not Disturb" sign on their door as he closed it and locked it up tight--he wanted absolutely no more interruptions tonight.

Turning back to the room, he realized she was in the bathroom.  As tempted as he was to go to her, he decided to give her some privacy, since the door was fully closed.  As he looked around the room, the only thing on his mind was selecting the various places and imagining the various ways he would make love to her in this room during their stay.  He made mental notes as he surveyed the large, comfy armchair in the corner, the bed, the couch, the floor, the desk, and of course he couldn't forget the shower, or the hot tub on the balcony.  He knew they would put them all to good use--given their sex drives, probably many, many times. 

He walked over to the fireplace, the focal point of the room, turning it on with the flip of a switch.  Using a dial, he played with it, until it was just right.  A calm, low roar of warmth and orange dancing light filled the room.  His mind and body were alive with the anticipation and expectation of what the night would bring.  He clicked off the lamp, perfecting the setting where it would all happen--soon.  He walked to the balcony and slid open the door, stepping out to take in the view and the crisp night air.  The sound from the Falls was even louder than he imagined it would be.  As he enjoyed the view and the quiet moment of solitude, a slow, steady rain began to fall.

The knock on the door had sent her running to the bathroom.  She went there to hide her nakedness from view, but with an ulterior motive; she'd hidden a little surprise in her purse, which she had managed to grab from the bed as she ran to the bathroom.  After freshening up a bit, she slipped on the surprise-- a form-fitting, sheer, red nighty, held onto her body by only a few strategically-placed ties.  She loosely tied the ties, then slipped on the matching panties, her mind filled with imaginings of how they would be removed.  She was eager to please and fulfill every one of his senses as deeply and perfectly as it was possible to achieve.  She silently opened the bathroom door and slipped back into the bedroom.

It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dim firelight.  She caught sight of him through the glass, and walked toward him, believing that every second she spent without touching him or being touched by him was a waste, yet as she neared the open door she couldn't help but hesitate and watch him, taking in the sight of him for a few seconds before going to him.  She had loved him desperately for so long, and for the vast majority of that time she had believed that the day would never come when he would be truly, fully hers.  Her heart and spirit soared, even though she had barely begun to absorb the reality that the day had indeed arrived, that the dream closest to her heart had actually come true.  She was deeply moved as the thought occurred to her that one of the greatest accomplishments of her entire life--winning his heart--no longer had to be a secret.  Life could be nothing but joy from today forward.  She was finally where she belonged, and with him by her side she knew she could handle anything, good or bad, that came their way. She stepped out onto the balcony in silence, the sound of her bare feet moving along the floor muffled by the sound of the Falls and the trickling rain.  It was her turn to slip her arms around him from behind.

Her arms, wrapping tightly around him, felt like the answer to a question he didn't realize he had asked.  She squeezed him tightly; he could feel her breasts pressed up against his back.  The sudden interruption by the bell boy, though frustrating, had helped to cool his engines enough that he was no longer concerned about a misfire, but he was still very much revved up and ready to go.  After a few seconds, he reached for her, taking her into his arms, pulling her to face him. As soon as he touched her, he was surprised to feel fabric where he had expected to touch skin.  As she moved in front of him, she watched as his eyes widened with excited appreciation.  "Redddd," he half whispered, half growled as he drank in the sight of her.

Neither of them noticed when the wind began to pick up.  They didn't take note when the gentle rain gradually turned into a downpour.  The first distant claps of thunder did not register in their occupied minds.

He couldn't take his eyes off the shape of her body within the sheer red wrapping.  She looked even sexier than he had imagined or remembered. With one glance his urgency returned in full force.  His heart raced as he reached for her breasts with both hands, teasing them, coaxing them to attention through the thin silk.  He cupped her breasts, squeezing, caressing gently, his thumbs circling on her sensitive nipples.  They responded to him instantly, hardening, appreciating his attention by presenting themselves as ready, willing and eager participants to whatever he had in store.

She loved watching his face while he enjoyed her chest with singular focus.  His touch was gentle, yet leading, perfectly paced to bring her arousal and their connection higher, higher, then higher still.  She was pleasantly surprised by the intensity, by the way each touch brought every nerve in her body to life.  The look on his face was the best gift of all, so full of desire.  She was slowly slipping back into the zone she had found earlier--the trance--the spell of him.  She welcomed it, and let it envelop her.  Her eyes closed as she lost herself in the moment, and his perfect touch.  Suddenly something jolted her back to awareness.  She took stock of herself.  She was soaked through, and it wasn't the rain. He had just called her name.

She was keenly aware of her need and readiness, as she became vaguely, distantly aware that she was chilly, that spitting drops of rain were beginning to reach her within the larger gusts of wind, and that thunder was rumbling in the distance.  She took one of his hands in hers. He looked into her eyes.  She smiled back with a beckoning, deep yearning, and a promise of things to come as she led him by the hand back into the room.  She made sure to leave the sliding glass door open.  She loved the idea of the cool outdoor air rushing in to contrast with the heat from the fire, with their bodies intertwined at the center. She loved the surging, urgent sound of the Falls, and in her mind there was nothing more sensual and appropriate as a backdrop to their night than the Falls, the rain, and the thunder--nature's soundtrack.  She pulled the blanket from the bed as she walked near the fireplace, welcoming its warmth and enjoying its glow.

He helped her spread the blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace.  As he stood back up, she couldn't take her eyes off of him as he moved toward her in his t-shirt, the sleeves coming to rest right in the middle of his biceps, enhancing them, drawing her eyes, calling out for her attention as they always had, ever since she was nineteen years old.  How unbelievable it was to her that it was now ok to stare without hiding it, to appreciate and make it known, even to reach out and touch...could she really?  She had struggled with great difficulty to fight the urge and the need for so many years, training herself to push the feelings below the surface and resist reaching out to him. But now she was ready and eager to shed each and every one of the repressions and safeguards that she'd built up over the years.  As he reached her, as he took her in his arms, her right hand came to rest just inside his elbow, then slid upward toward that sexy, alluring muscle, squeezing it, sliding her fingers inside the shirt sleeve, pushing it up to reveal the area of fascination and attraction in all its glory.  She enjoyed an inner montage of memories of this very arm throughout the years--working on cars, carrying heavy boxes, moving furniture, peeking out during study sessions, moving and installing appliances, cooking, repairing a million and one things, endlessly inviting and teasing her day and night from within those t-shirt sleeves.  She felt a surge of warmth as she leaned near and kissed a trail along it, softly, from bottom to top, thrilled beyond measure by the freedom and invitation to do so.  She pulled off his t-shirt, undressing him slowly, watching as his delicious arms, shoulders, chest and torso were revealed for the second time tonight, but in far greater detail by the glow of the fire.  She knew it fell short, but all she could think was "wow," resonating over and over in her mind.  She gulped; her voice cracked as she whispered to him: "wow."

He called her name again, softly, his mouth inches from her ear, as he pulled her close, as his hands wound slowly down and around her body.  She remembered something she'd read long ago, a truism that her hopeful, romantic side had tucked away within her memory long ago, something like "When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth."  For the first time in her life she now knew and felt precisely what that meant.

She reached for the button of his pants, eager to touch him, please him, taste him.  Much to her surprise, he took both of her wrists in his hands and moved them away, blocking access.  She playfully grinned at him, not sure what he was up to, but excited to find out. Still holding her wrists firmly, he guided her down onto her knees on the blanket.  She looked up at him, expectation plainly visible on her face in the firelight.  He looked down at her, taking in the sight of her, letting out a lusty, needful groan.  It was intensely, almost painfully difficult not to fulfill the expectation he read on her face and in her eyes; it was all he could do, using every ounce of his self-control, to stop himself from dropping his pants immediately and rushing to accept the pleasure that her willing, hungry mouth, inches away, offered him, even begged of him.  But no--tonight was hers--and he was going to make absolutely sure that she knew it, and that tonight was a night she would never forget.

In one swift, fluid motion he knelt in front of her, took her into his arms, and  lay her back on the blanket as his lips tenderly, gently, lovingly met hers with kiss after burning kiss, each one longer, deeper, more intense than the next.  His tongue began to dance with hers as they explored and surrendered to each other in body and in spirit.  With her welcoming mouth she began to open to him in the first of many ways, just as he used his mouth and tongue to begin his gentle probe and entry into her.  He positioned himself on his side beside her, remaining slightly above her, so that her body was fully exposed to him, his hand free to spend time within her sensual playground.

His kisses began to travel, slightly at first as he moved down to focus on her lower lip, taking it in between both of his, pulling it slightly, sucking it gently, while his tongue massaged it within his mouth.  She held her breath as he continued to suck her bottom lip, slowly moving along it, giving each centimeter of it the same focused treatment.  She eventually gasped for air, her broken breaths coming faster as her arousal and emotions grew.  She tried to kiss him, to fully engage with his mouth again, but he playfully kept her at bay, bestowing the trail of slow, steady attention upon the full length of her lower lip, then beginning on her upper in the same manner.  He spent minutes on this exploration, fueled to higher passion by the intensity of her enjoyment and response.  He felt and watched her fears, self-consciousness and nervousness dissipate and disappear as he demonstrated his love and acceptance.  Her body now fully relaxed into his embrace, accepting and welcoming anything he had to give.  As his lips neared the corner of her mouth, he continued to kiss, making his way slowly along her cheek, painting her with short, wet, warm, adoring kisses.  He lifted a hand to the other side of her neck just as his lips reached the near side.  He petted her neck, then her cheek, gently as he took a small break from kissing her, so that he could whisper directly into her ear.

“Close your eyes, and focus on nothing else besides my words.  Ready?”

She nodded, eyes closed, as he continued to speak, peppering her with kisses between each phrase.

“There is nothing better in the world than being here tonight, with you in my arms, unless it’s knowing that I get to hold you and have you for all the rest of my nights.  I (kiss) will always (kiss) be by your side.  I (kiss) will never, (kiss) not ever, (kiss) let you go again. (kiss) You are safe. (kiss) You are appreciated. (kiss) You are needed. (kiss) You are wanted. (kiss)  You are mine. (kiss) And I’m going to spend the rest of my life (kiss) making sure you know (kiss) and feel (kiss) every day (kiss) how very much I love you.”

His words filled her to overflowing, and a bit of her joy escaped the corner of her eye, running slowly down her face. 

He dwelt on her lips for one long, lingering kiss, then moved away.  She open her eyes just in time to watch him move his face down, between her breasts, taking one of the ties of her nightgown in his teeth, pulling it open.  He followed down, down, down her body, undoing each of the remaining ties in turn, unwrapping her with his teeth, hungry for there to be no more barriers between them.  Ties all loosened, he laid her gown open, fully revealing her almost-naked, panty-clad, soft body before him, framed in a drape of red, and glowing brightly with the reflection of the fire’s light.  He stared, drinking her in, his hand tracing her curves, his mind struggling to sort through a barrage of impulses to kiss and lick and taste every square inch of her all at once.  He lowered his mouth to her nipple, at the same time moving his hand down, sliding along her hip, then down between her thighs.  He teased her nipple with the scruffy whiskers of his chin, watching it rise in answer.  He parted her thighs gently, but with intent, pulling one of them to rest sandwiched between his legs.  She opened to him without a thought or hesitation; she was his to take in any way–all ways.  Always.

His mouth explored her breasts, his tongue and lips kissing, licking, flicking her nipples, circling the fullness of her, teasing, enjoying, playing.  At the same time, his hand caressed her inner thighs, taking care to move steadily, slowly toward his goal.  He took one nipple in his mouth, sucking gently, keeping it warm and stimulated, as his tongue stroked it, rhythmically, within his mouth.  She watched him there, mesmerized by the visual of his arousing attention.  She moaned deeply, softly, very low but unmistakable as he continued to devour her increasingly sensitive nipples, his lips and tongue giving her sensations she never knew possible.  She was so focused on the movements of his mouth that she was taken by surprise when his hand slipped up inside the leg of her panties, one finger sliding along her slit from bottom to top, barely touching, simply gliding along her moist, sensitive skin.  He felt his cock jump and protest its confinement as his finger traced the line of her welcoming entryway.  She was already astoundingly wet and swollen, ready, wanting.  Her wetness had escaped her folds, coating her longing lips, smoothing the way for his finger, for now, and for his cock, very soon.  He loved the way her body pushed toward his finger, already wanting more, already urging him to take more of her and give more of himself to her.  He was happy and eager to oblige.  He continued to delicately, repeatedly move along her engorged slit from bottom to top, with agonizing slowness—again, and again, and again, as her lips blossomed and opened for him, granting him access, and welcoming his much-anticipated arrival.  His finger slipped the tiniest bit deeper into her with every stroke.

One of her hands moved to his back, holding tightly onto him, needing to feel his skin beneath her fingertips.  She kneaded, circled, and squeezed him in direct response to her pleasure, like a gauge that measured her bliss.  Her mind was aware of nothing beyond this moment, his body above her, his dizzying blue eyes, his lips, his fingers, all lit and tinted within the orange flicker from the flames.  Her eyes alternated between closing within the heights of pleasure and watching him intently.  He looked into her eyes often, never stopping his attention on her breasts and pussy, but keeping in tune with her, reading her continuously, making sure he gave her exactly what she wanted the most.  She stared back, her heart held by his eyes just as her body was held by his arms.

The tip of his finger now thoroughly wet with her juices, he ran it up to the top of her opening, finding her swollen clit, perked up and begging for his attention.  He coated her button with her natural lubricant, as he began teasing it, becoming re-acquainted with this very special part of her.  Her pleasure was mixed with tension, as she struggled to process the intensity of the sensations.  Like his experience earlier in the night, when he neared over-stimulation, she gasped and tensed with his initial exploration of her hypersensitive clit.  He sensed the struggle and adjusted his pressure until he felt her relax into his arms again, riding a new wave of pleasure, rising up and up into ecstasy.  Her eyes were closed now, her moans rising from occasional to frequent.  He pressed her button with just the right amount of pressure as he began to work it with small, focused circles.  The more he touched her, the more he learned her likes and needs.  His cock was throbbing, in agony for her warm wet passageway.  His own breathing quickened as he alternated circles with side to side motions, then up and down.  Her moans, rising louder, pierced into his self-control, weakening his resolve to give her everything before taking anything for himself.  Now they were both trembling, quaking against each other, their need, emotion and pleasure convening and magnifying one another.

He gave one of her nipples a quick goodbye kiss, then, with his fingers still working down below, he moved up to her lips.  He kissed her softly, then held her close, his cheek pressed against hers.  He wanted to be right there, right with her as she went over the edge.  He wanted to breathe every breath of her orgasm with her, watch every shudder, see her chest rise with every gasp, kiss away every tear, and feel, not just hear every sound that echoed from her as she lost herself in pure joy.  He stared down her body, watching his fingers move on her, enjoying the view of her open legs, her swollen pussy within the red panties, all framed by the fullness of her breasts and the open redness of her gown.  He was addled; all he could think about was plunging into her, filling her, taking her at last. 

Suddenly in one rushing surge, the rain became a roar.  What had been a gentle, soothing pitter-patter, turned into pounding fists on the balcony roof.  Shrill, clicking drops, like a thousand urgently tapping fingernails, beat against the glass.  A few flashes of lightning lit the room, followed by a distant rolling rumble.

As her breathing quickened and her back arched, he knew it was time—he let his finger slip slowly and deeply into her warm, wet, inviting tunnel.  His lips moved along her cheek with lingering kisses as he plunged into her, first with one probing finger, a second soon joining.  He moved in and out of her slowly, her inner walls closing around him, pulsing, grasping and massaging him back.  His thumb found her lonely clit, keeping it company once more as he gave focused attention to every part of her hot, wet, pulsing, needy womanhood.

Her sounds, constant now, were nearly too much for his sensibilities.  Moans mixed with growls, howls, yelps, whimpers and gasps to form a cacophony of the most erotic, sensuous, arousing sounds he had ever heard, making his blood pump faster and his cock ache to participate.  He began to whisper directly in her ear again, telling her how sexy she was, how hot her sounds were, how unbelievably good her pussy felt around his fingers, how eager he was to finally be inside her, and above all, how much he wanted her to explode for him.  Every word was a direct line to her emotions, and therefore a direct line to her pleasure.  His voice filled her ears and her mind, her eyes closed; she could feel nothing but his fingers moving in and out of her, his thumb making love to her clit, his hot breath on her ear, and the warmth of his body close against her.  She felt her own warmth and electricity begin to rise from her middle, radiating steadily outward, enveloping her, spreading up her spine, along her shoulders, down her legs, her entire body filling and tingling with the warmth and fire of pleasure from which there was absolutely no return.  He held her tighter, his eyes focused on her face as she held her breath for a moment, her head tossed back in ecstasy, and then let go, riding the waves of release as they crashed over her and through her with relentless, rhythmic intensity, like a burst dam of emotion, pleasure, love, gratitude, happiness, and joy.  She cried out again and again, uncontrollably as she came, releasing a frenzy of sounds interspersed with calling and moaning his name. 

He rode the waves with her, his mouth on hers, gobbling up her yelps and answering each time she called out his name with a kiss, nibble or teasing lick.  He breathed with her, sharing her air, sharing her space, wanting and finding closeness and unity beyond explanation.  She had long been a part of him, and him of her, but this was something entirely new.  He marveled at it, and soaked in every second of it with profound appreciation and enjoyment.  He held her tightly, kissed her gently, lovingly, attentively, and held his fingers still, inside her, as the waves slowed and she eventually, slowly, floated back down into reality.

Euphoric, she sought his lips with hers, hoping he had glimpsed the magic she just experienced.  She had not been prepared for loving him more strongly, more intensely, more completely after all these years, but as their souls melded together, uniting as one, she reached an entirely new level of loving and revering him.  With one look into his eyes, she knew he felt it too.  As she stared up at him, still recovering, speechless, breathless, all she could think about was making love to him, receiving his body into her own, wrapping herself around him, giving herself to him and being accepted in return.  She had imagined, yearned for, and waited for him for so long that she could no longer clearly remember the girl she’d been when she first fell in love with him.  But she was certain of one thing—that no matter the change or the distance or the obstacle or the pain that life had brought, every subsequent version of herself, throughout her entire life, without fail, had loved him completely.

His arousal, need, tension and desire were now simply too much to bear.  After all the build-up, teasing, waiting, touching, and giving, the vision of her there, on her back, legs spread wide, her post-orgasmic pussy, drenched, and still quivering between her legs, was far too much for him to resist any longer.  He reached down, shedding his pants and underwear in an instant.  Her hand was on his cock, even before he could roll back toward her, and her touch was very nearly an overload to his senses.  She knew exactly how to touch him, exactly how to read him, and her strokes softened and her pace slowed to accommodate his overly aroused state.  He loved her touch, and loved holding her, kissing her, enjoying her, but there comes a time when only one thing will do.  He tore his lips from hers and rose to his knees beside her, looking down at her from far above, and without pause, moved to kneel between her spread legs.  With both hands, one on each of her hips, he rolled her panties down as she lifted her rear to allow them to slide off with ease.  His heart leapt and a groan of anticipation escaped his lips as he pulled her open body closer to him, spreading her legs wider, looking down into her inviting pink, swollen wetness.

He stared into her eyes, mesmerized, his brain a dense fog of love and lust and unfettered need.  He called her name, softly, lovingly, hungrily as he took his cock in one hand, positioning it at her waiting entrance.  She watched and waited, breathless, as he began to run the tip of his cock up along her slit, just as he had with his finger.  Her body bucked beneath him, impatient, wanting more, but he continued along the outside of her; he wanted her to feel him in every nerve.  He was greeted and welcomed with a flood of wetness, making it very easy to slide and glide his tip up and down her sensitive pussy lips.  The feel of her was amazing, intoxicating.  Up, down, up, down, he moved along her in a slow rhythm, pressure increasing with each pass he made.  He lubricated his tip thoroughly with these teases, intensely enjoying the sensation of her thick creamy wetness.  The next time he moved up along her slit, he paused at the top, pressing his cock up against her sensitive, swollen clit.  Still using his hand to direct, he slid his tip along her clit, circling, stimulating her, wetting her button with her own juices.  He then took his cock, raised it up and let it fall roughly onto her clit, giving it a slap, sending new sensations of arousal through her body and her mind.  

She let out a long, passionate, appreciative moan as she stared up at him, frozen in time, the world having fallen away.  She perceived nothing but him, his cock on her clit, so near her entrance, his beautiful blue, hungry eyes blazing down at her, burning with pure desire.  She thrust her hips up toward him again, inviting him, begging him to enter her.  Her body was one mass of nerves and need, and he had the only solution.  Her pussy throbbed, in agony, the build-up and teasing now so far past the line of pleasantness.  Her need was all.  She needed to be taken, she needed to feel his cock spread her, invade her.  She needed his hardness to claim her, to make her softness yield to him, and she needed him with a desperation that verged on frenzy.  “Please,” she whispered.  “Please!”

With that one word he could hold back no longer.  He positioned his cock at her entrance, his swollen, sensitive head sliding inside of her, spreading open her lips, just barely beginning to enter her depths.  In one quick motion, he leaned down further forward over her body, one of his arms scooping up one of her legs, bringing it to rest on his shoulder, forcing her to open wider.  Nearer to her face now, staring into her eyes, he allowed his cock to slide slowly, fully, deeply into her.  He let out a moan of intense, overflowing pleasure as he buried his throbbing, over-hard cock inside the deepest part of her.  She held her breath as he entered her, her eyes, moist with emotion, locked onto his.

The glowing fire light was but a dim shadow of their joy as they entered a spiritual celebration of destiny, their uniting radiating a divine sense of forever.  As they physically consummated their emotional fusion, they sprang from it as a new being, a double soul in one.  Bewildered with pleasure, their two mouths, made sacred by love, drew close, meeting in a kiss that echoed a thrill throughout the immensity of the stars.  Within their true love, the infinite mingled--perfect happiness blessed and celebrated in the Heavens.

They moved together, leader and follower, fully given over to each other.  Her body, now fully his, rose rhythmically to meet his rocking hips, opening to receive him.  Their movements slowed, then quickened, finding a pulse of expression, a give and take of sensation and duration.  She began to use her leg, the one upon his shoulder as leverage to push herself up onto him harder, and harder still.  Her free leg wrapped around him, keeping him close and deep within her.  He rocked from side to side at times, and circled his hips, bringing entirely new sensations and pleasures within her.  Her pussy, nearing the height of pleasure, began its own internal, rhythmic pulsing, muscles squeezing tighter, then tighter still, gripping his cock, clutching at it from within her silky, glistening velvet folds, bringing him higher with each and every stroke.  They rose together, spinning within a tornado of passion, love, joy and pleasure.

The weather mirrored their rising urgency, swelling as their surging swelled, a crescendoing duet of the elements and their passion.  Booming thunder echoed, louder with every clap, lightning flashed, a strobe light for their sensual fury, flickering faster, then faster still, just as their bodies moved faster, faster and oh so faster still.  The wind swirled erratically through the room, bringing occasional chills to their merging bodies, dripping with steamy sweat.

She lifted her hand to his face, gently cupping his cheek, moving over his features as if making a new discovery in each—his eyes, his nose, his dimpled chin, his lips…  She fell in love with every piece of him anew, seeing him through new eyes.  She moaned his name, ohhhh again, and again she called to him, each whisper of his name full of thanks and promise, full of love and future.  “I love you, ohh how much I love you.  Don’t stop, ohhhh pleeeeeasssse don’t stop, whatever you do, donnnnnn’t stoppppp.”  She was slammed hard with sudden climax; it had built so gently, had grown so gradually, had neared so slowly that she didn’t know it was upon her until the spasms racked her body.  She was on autopilot; her hips rocking in their own rhythm, her head rising and slamming back down onto the blanket as the waves took control of her.  Her pussy tightened like a clenched fist, so forcefully that he was compelled to hold still, deep inside of her, unable to continue moving within her.  She called his name over and over again between the avalanche of gasping, orgasmic squeals and screams of ecstasy.

He watched her cum beneath him, felt her body cum around his, listened to her shout her joy to the sky, his cock riding the waves and pulses of her pleasure from within.  Hearing her explode with a frenzy of sounds and professions, adorations and appreciations, he neared the edge himself, and held on for dear life.  His body tingled; he felt like he was drifting in warm water, his senses now rewired to plug in to her and her alone.  As her waves slowed and she began to breathe again, she looked up into his eyes.  “Cum for me,” she playfully smiled, breathless and eager for him to join in her rapture.  She continued, whispering, “Cum for me, fill me deep inside, give me everything you’ve ever wanted to give me, show me what it feels like to be filled to overflowing with your wonderful, hot cum. ”  He let her leg slide off his shoulder, as he collapsed down onto her body, skin on skin, lips on lips, his cock buried inside her, her legs spread wide around him.  He wrapped his arms around her, then held her tight as he rolled over onto his back on the blanket, with her now on top, straddling him.  He was even deeper within her now, and she preserved the momentum by immediately beginning to ride his cock with slow, deep thrusts.  As he neared the edge, she slowed her movements, giving him the choice between holding on or giving in to the finale of their lovemaking.  She was still spasming herself as he let go, unloading into her with spurt after spurt, so deep within her pussy--a fountain of release and pleasure--a gift she had long awaited and was overjoyed to receive.  She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he let go, rewarding her with the treat of the sound of roaring pleasure erupting from his depths.  She felt complete now in a way she had never known to be possible.  She was surprised when a nervous, joyful laugh rose from her, escaping for a moment in jubilant celebration as she continued to move slowly on him, enabling him to drift down easily back to earth.  She collapsed beside him, pressed close, enveloped within his warm arms and his warm heart.  Their breaths slowing, returning to normal, their hearts recovering, their sweat chilling them despite the fire, they were speechless within the awe of their new union.

They took turns kissing one another’s eyes, lips, nose, eyebrows, forehead, chin, cheeks, as love radiated between them.  The fire light still dancing, the balcony door still open, the storm now still, the Falls still roaring gently, they arrived at a new day.  The world was the same; the room was the same, yet they were changed.  Wrapped together in their blanket, they spent a few minutes on the balcony, watching from within their embrace the faint glow on the horizon as it became the blazing light of the sun.  They newly united lovers stared out over the mighty, roaring Niagara--the tumultuous, powerful, ancient force of nature where two great lakes unite.  The Falls burst to life in the rising sun, the faux-illumination from the night before giving way to the blazing glory of true light from the morning sun, the beauty before them now making the view from last night seem like a poor counterfeit.  They held close to each other, the force of the love between them similarly transformed, eclipsing all that had come before.

They snuggled into bed, intertwined beneath the warm, cozy covers--the first of many times in the years ahead that they would get to sleep and bask in the warmth and love of one another.  As she began to drift to sleep, she was filled to overflowing with joy.  She said a prayer of profound thankfulness.  She was fully, deeply happy in way that only comes from absolute inner peace and joy.  She had arrived at the destination she chose as a woman-child and had sought with every single one of her steps ever since.  She did not regret one step or misstep that she’d made along the way, because every single solitary one of them had brought her to this place, this moment, and this man.  She glimpsed him, already asleep beside her, and smiled, smitten, with giddy anticipation of waking up in his strong, safe, loving arms.  She drifted and floated, half asleep for the longest time, holding on to wakefulness, peeking at him, soaking in his warmth, resistant to leave him even into sleep.  She finally fell into the blissful sleep of a joyful, grateful, blessed, redeemed soul.  She smiled in her sleep, dreaming of the strong arms that really held her, and for the first time in her life, she would wake into a world where the joy of her reality surpassed any possible dream. 

©2014, Ashfallen