Heaven On Earth

The hug lasts from the moment she drops her cases inside the front doo to the edges of eternity. We press so hard into one another the very atoms of our skin seem to merge and join. 

I feel her fingers roaming up and down my back as she kisses me and I shudder as my dress slips of my shoulders and onto the floor around my feel. Emily is taller than me (who isn’t?) and I’m on my tip=toes to turn my face up for her kiss. I realise I’m shivering - oh, not from cold - this home’s clever electronics monitors room-by-room for warmth and humidity - this is anticipation, this is love. 

My own clumsy fingers finds Emily’s zipper and her dress joins mine in a tangled heap on the floor. My next breath reveals to me that she is naked under her dress. Her scent’s rise up to meet me and her natural smell of her skin, plus the increasing wetness between her legs forms a pas-de-deux of arousal in my head. 

She slides her hand down, over my shoulder, and cups my right breast in her hand drawing her fingers outward and together to feel my engorged nipple and its tiny stud. Our kiss, still unbroken, becomes more urgent, more passionate. 

My hands cup her bum and squeeze, pulling her towards me in anticipatory lust. God, I love this girl! 

Emily’s hand reluctantly leaves my hard, aching breast and slips down over my tummy and into the waistband of my panties. Her other hand joins it and I feel my underwear being tugged down over my hips until my panties too fall, discarded, to the ground, and my own intimate scent rises to entwine with hers in a trio of sex. 

She’s breathing deeply and hard now, barely able to contain herself. I saw this woman having sex with a young teenage hotel waitress only last night, so sexual starvation isn’t the reason for this urgency. This, my friends is manifestation of pure love. 

Emily’s hand worms its way between my legs and inside me with such rapidity that it makes me gasp. Two fingers plunge deep inside me and curl to find my g-spot. My knees buckle involuntarily. 

She sweeps me, literally off my feet and suddenly, I’m lying on the thick rug I bought recently for the entrance hall. Emily follows me down and is on top of me, pinning my wrists to the floor above my head. She supports herself on her elbows for a while and simply gazes at me. My legs I voluntarily opened and are outside her body, her mound lightly touching mine. 

I giggle at a memory of a conversation. One night many moons ago, I bemoaned the fact that she wasn’t an hermaphrodite. I’d loved nothing more than for her to fuck me with a real cock. I’ve seen videos of genuine hermaphrodite - people with both vagina and penis - and they seem to be heavy cummers. Oh, how o’d love to be full of her semen! Emily in turn had laughed at the thought and asked me what if I too were a hermaphrodite? “You could fuck yourself while I watch!” 

But now, all thoughts of that evaporate as she slowly kisses down my willing body - oh, so slowly - and I realise she isn’t kissing my body in that routine way some partners do - the sort of kissing that is actually a seeking of permission. (I want to lick her..so I’ll kiss slowly down and if she stops me then I know she doesn’t want that.) No, not that sort of kissing at all! This was, and I use the word advisedly, worship. She was adoring every moment of contact, every time her lips and the tip of her tongue met my skin. 

And the tears rolled from my eyes down the sides of my head, soaking my hair. How long did she take to kiss down my body? A minute? An hour? A lifetime? I neither know nor care. I feel her warm breath on my wetness and stiffen with pleasure as her tongue enters me. I know I’m flooding my wetness into her mouth now, it’s pouring from me, and I know she is swallowing my essence as soon I will hers. My clit stands proud, aching for her attention and as if my thought reached her brain, she sucks my erect bean into her mouth and her tongue swirls around it and over the top as it protrudes from the sheath. 

Fingers! Oh God, I need her fingers! Effortlessly she slips one finger in my vagina and one in my bum. This isn’t to be rough anal play, this is because she wants to enter me every way possible, and my desire for her is sky-high. She penetrates me deeply and pauses her attentions to my clit long enough to say, “Come for me my love, my Angel, my life and my soul.” 

My world shatters, shards of light and colour replace the ceiling in that entrance hall and I’m transported to another plane of existence. Every atom in my body feels the orgasm as it pulses through the very core of me and out to my extremities. 

Hours later, and we lie naked in bed together, our bodies entwined. We smell of one another. My sex around her lips and on her face, hers on mine. No depravity this time. No toys. No pee sex. Just making love. But making love so completely, so utterly at one with one another there are tears from us both on the pillow we share. 

I draw her closer to me and, despite my apathy to organised religion, I offer up a silent, wordless prayer of thanks for this girl. That she loves me is a gift beyond measure. That I love her feels as natural as drawing breath. If I lost her, my world would surely end. 

Another hour, or so, and I wake to find my nose assaulted by different scents. There’s a pot of coffee, a tray with warm buttered crumpets, and a small vase with two perfect roses from the garden, carefully entwined together. Alice has obviously paid us a visit. 

Food and drink, though kindly meant, are the last thing on my mind. Gently, so as not to wake her, I roll Emily onto her back. Her raised knee flops outward, and I catch it so she doesn’t hurt herself. Her sex, now fully exposed to me invited my lips, and once again, I explore her rose petal-perfect labia. 

My tongue sinks inside her and I realise that it, like me, is home. This is where my tongue and myself belong. At home with the girl who has won my heart.