I have never hated jeans as much as that moment I was looking for her intimacy

I have never hated jeans as much as that moment I was looking for her intimacy. I tried to unbutton her but she stopped me. This time a touch was all she needed. But my mouth was still there. I pulled her bra down, almost annoyed, to explore her left breast now, because it seemed only fair. She moved behind me so I must have been doing something right. Her left breast gave me new joys in that impossible smoothness. Nothing expresses more about the flesh than her breast. I was hungry and then satiated and then hungry again in an apparently endless cycle. I moved down towards her abdomen, slipped quickly over her sternum with a kiss and then dived in the space under her ribs. She caved it with a sound I could not understand. I pushed into her belly with my lips, my tongue, my chin even. I was adoring the resistance of her muscles against the smoothness of her skin. She was an impossibility. I reached her belly button and I explored it with my tongue, until I pushed and I could hear her making a sound that I recognized this time, a small sound of pleasure. She was probably distracted for a second or two because I managed to release the button of her jeans once so loved and now just an obstacle. She awakened then and said no, and then asked what I was doing. And I asked her if she wanted me to stop. She said no again, with the same tone, the same accent, but her meaning was different now. Her meaning in her eyes told me that this was a game. Or maybe that she needed more time. I was hoping that in her otherness we still wanted the same. I started over, I moved back to her mouth. She made as if to button herself up, but my body was in the way and in the end she decided my buttocks were better. She posed her hands there, she didn’t squeeze, and there they lay, as if in contemplation. Her tongue was not for contemplation. It felt like a fight, but this time I entered her mouth too and it was a warm space, that a times seemed a void until our tongues met again. it is curious that saliva does not exist when you inhabit another mouth: it’s more like oxygen in the air or water for fish, something you don’t even notice. My hand went through the gap at the back of her trousers and I touched the flesh of her buttocks, one and then the other. She said no, but she gave no resistance, she was smiling that smile of hers. I just could not stop now and I moved it at the front, touching her clitoris through her pants (how thin were they? Were they even really there?). She was trying less and less to stop me. I could feel her breath coming faster, warmer, it was burning on my neck now, my shoulder. She bit me. I stopped, surprised, she bit me again, harder, her hand under my trousers now, grabbing my dick through my underwear (why was it so thick and yet her hand so strong?). I could feel the skin of my shoulder ripping, rough, all edges, like her teeth. I could see the heat between her leg, I dipped a finger through her panties, into that heat and I met her wetness. I shifted her panties, my finger went right in: I felt wetness, warmth, roughness and smoothness of flesh going wild. No, she barely said as if with her last breath. I started taking her trousers off.

TO BE CONTINUED…