| return to Softer Things They stood looking out the window. She was in front of him. He held her from behind. It wasn’t the view, no, not the view, not the dull, gray sky, not the two parking lots. In that moment they both remembering how being like this had been once been fantasy and realized how it was now fantasy made real. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. His lips kissed her neck, the left side, the tip of his tongue occasionally grazing her skin. His right arm was across her chest, simply holding her, embracing her. His left hand was over her pubis, his fingertips brushing lightly over the pubic hair under her light dress. Her right was behind her, finding him beneath his jeans, rubbing, squeezing, stroking. His tongue found her ear and pulled her earlobe into his mouth as he had so often told her it would. His fingers worked through the buttoned front of her dress and touched the pubic hair he had touched in the bar downstairs only minutes before. Her hips moved seductively against him as her hand began more aggressive on his cock. His fingers found her to be wet, very wet, but they returned to press and circle outside her dress, feeling the wet spot grow larger on the front of her dress. Her moan was music, her body an expression of desire. He wanted her, and wanted her to want him, and saw in that moment that she did. As he held her, slowly making love to her, wanting to please her, he remembered her smile getting off the elevator, the smile he had only seen in pictures, the smile he had associated with her laugh. He remembered her kiss in the too-bright bar. He remembered watching her watch him in the mirror behind the bar as he ordered drinks. He remembered her leaning forward to kiss him, the feel of her hand on his thigh moving up to hold his cock under the table. He remembered the brush of his fingertips over her pubic hair as they sat in the bar. Letting the memory go, he turned her in his arms and kissed her. The kiss became more insistent, their tongues dancing as they had both described. He turned her from the window and began to walk her backwards toward the bed. She moved to sit and ease down onto her back, her feet still on the floor. He knelt then in front of her and began to slowly move the dress of her thighs. She raised her hips and let him push the dress up around her waist. Her legs opened in an invitation they had both described. He began to lick lightly on each thigh, slowly working toward her middle, her pussy, the pussy he hoped so long to see, to touch, to kiss, to lick. When his tongue first licked her clit lightly, they both moaned,. taking in air and a breath that would be followed by many on a long, wonderful night. And it wasn’t even dark yet outside.
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