Just The Best, That's All

this is an attempt at using none of the usual words to describe this. let me know if it works or not.

In my sleep I dreamt my chest was being covered by a scratchy wool blanket. I was naked under this blanket, but the cool air of the mountain cabin was somehow sneaking in. I twisted and reached for the covers, but instead found the warmth of her back. Not quite awake, my mouth formed the words "What is…." Then I felt something warm and wet teasing my nipples. I figured out the immediate, dream slash wake induced dream I'd been having and closed my eyes again.

Her thick, long hair, "too long for her age," some said, cascaded over my chest. It spread itself out and obscured whatever view I might have had. The moonlight streaming in lit the room in a shadowy, blue-tinted light. It was a winter moon, the snow reflecting the light, and seemingly doubling the blueness of it. I was still too much asleep to fully appreciate what was happening, until I felt the moist warmth of her breath surrounding the wetness of her tongue trace an arc from my chest down to my lower belly. In the cool room, with the blankets pulled aside, the initial wet warmth was immediately replaced by the coolness of evaporation. My senses became heightened, concentrating on an ever-shrinking area that started at my chest and went down to my knees.

She reached down with her hand and raked her nails up the inside of my thigh. I pulled my knees up and parted my legs. Goosebumps followed the path of her nails. Upon arrival where my legs meet, she reached underneath and drew her nails up the curve of my butt. I could feel her middle finger start to uncurl as she sought the deep "V" of my crack. She hesitated for a moment and the goosebumps caught up with her nails. Every nerve outside the area between my belly button and the tops of my legs shut down and redirected itself to that region. I shuddered involuntarily, but couldn't tell if it was the cold, or the anticipation.

I felt a slight, but firm pressure at my tightly puckered anus. Her fingernail scraped the edge as I raised my hips to greet this intrusion. She pressed further, and her second knuckle popped into me as she buried her finger up to the palm. I relaxed my hips, still conscious of her nails holding onto me. Her finger withdrew from my recesses, and, as she shook her hair out of her way, continued to draw her nails upwards. Somehow, she knew exactly how much pressure to exert on every part of me - harder, then lighter, then harder again, and finally just a trace of touch up and over the top.

I had constricted considerably, and with three fingers she cupped me, and was still able to encircle me with her thumb and forefinger. Again I raised my hips, but all she allowed me to feel was her breath, its warmth a teaser. I relaxed and lay flat again. Even though I could only see the back of her head, she seemed very relaxed, one arm hidden from view, while the other was draped across my stomach, her hand slowly stroking the outside of my leg.

As I was watching her head, the hand that was hidden from view squeezed me a little. Just then her head dipped downward. In that split second, I knew what was coming. I lay my head back down on the pillow and closed my eyes. I must have jumped a little in anticipation, as the intensity of her breath on me faded and must have caused her to pull back a little, too. Then it happened again, and I realized she knew what she was doing. Using just her breath, she traced a path down and back, the moist air getting warmer and more intense as she got closer to the tip. Her tongue snaked out of her mouth and wrapped around the underside of me. Eyes still closed, I lay rigid, feeling nothing – no cold, no sheets, no pillow, nothing - except the mane of her hair and the workings of her mouth.

I can feel the pebbly texture of her tongue as she curls the tip of it upwards, splitting the V of my circumcision scar. Her hair lifts slightly from my belly as she lowers her head once more, and this time I feel the heat, the wetness, and all the different textures of the inside of her mouth, as she finally takes me. A low, guttural moan comes from so deep inside me I think it must have started close to where her mouth was.

Slowly she works more of me into her mouth, her thumb and forefinger squeezing ever so slightly tighter, restricting any blood from retreating. The ridges of the roof of her mouth create a unique sensation for me. Once she has taken all that she can of me, she slowly retreats, and for a second I fear she will expose me to the cool air. She purses her lips tightly together, and begins her downward slide again. At each movement of her head, her hair sweeps over my belly. Occasionally she does leave me exposed while she tosses her hair out of her way, but she always quickly returns, taking up where she left off.

After several minutes of this ecstasy, I begin, with subtle movements of my hips, to meet the slow, rhythmic bobbing of her head. She reads the message I am sending and quickens her pace a little, while squeezing me tighter. Her fingers can feel my quickening pulse, and I expand in her mouth as she closes her finger and thumb even more. I raise my hips further, and she holds her head firmly in place.

She pulls back, her hair spreading out further, and exposes me to the air. While still holding onto me, she changes position and straddles me, her knees touching the outside of mine. For the first moment in I don't know how long, I am aware of feeling something other than her hair and her mouth. Something has dripped onto my shin, and is slowly trickling around the curve of my calf. I smile to myself.

Hunching her lower back, she works to align her throat with what she is pointing at her mouth. All her years of ballet have kept her very flexible. She leans forward and slowly swallows all of me, the tip of her tongue making it all the way to the base. She contracts her throat, once, twice and then releases her fingers. I thrust upwards, releasing, grunting, and releasing some more! She takes the first deep in her throat and the rest in her mouth. My thrusting subsides, and she works me with her fingers to milk the last out of me, using her tongue to clean me off.

Reaching behind herself, she grabs the covers and brings them with her as she slides up to my chest. Still straddling me, she leans forward to kiss me. As she does, I feel another drip of warm liquid land on me. She stretches out on top of me and kisses my neck, her lips slightly sticky.