Pale pink skin above her face was the only light she could see. The room was dark to an extent where their bodies gave off illumination and the darkness looked solid. He was writhing in passion as she ran a hand down the skin above her face. The shoulder she touched matched the rhythm of his body. She tried to enjoy the rasp of his body against hers but it became an endeavor of giving as she exhausted his pleasure.
Seconds later he gave into the pulse of his manhood. It was a condemning movement. He kissed her lips and lay across her body. A friend had once commented about the exceedingly happy couple that now lay sprawled across his bed. He said he had never met two people more in love. Carrie smiled down at the top of her companions head in secret delight. Those words were more here, in his bed, than any place else.
The war sex created in their hearts was battled valiantly in his bed. Tom loved Carrie so thoroughly that he sought to bring her pleasure each time they made love. Carrie loved Tom to the extent that she could not speak of how their sexual blunders disturbed her. It was the reality of two people so engrossed in dedication, they paid no attention to the enormity of sex.
"Tom, I can't breathe." His head lifted briefly to acknowledge her words and then he rolled to her side.
Even though the heat of the room was fairly suffocating she pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts. Seeing her own glowing skin against the heavy darkness made this act seem undignified. "He could care less about his nakedness' she thought. The healthy ripples of his young body sprawled across the bed unattended.
Sometimes she lay in her own bed thinking about her love. Visions of him holding her brought ripples of excitement that were soon translated into true waves of pleasure. Her lethal hands brought so much pleasure that, at times, she felt guilty. What lover would want to know that his lady love found more enjoyment in her own hands that in his?
She had no need to worry, as they never spoke of such things. Once she had approached her mother about the dissatisfaction she felt in Tom's love making. The speech that followed was filled with endearments about the lord above and Carries purpose as a woman. In the end silence looked to be the best answer to her confusion.
Tom's hand came up, in sleep, to cup her breast. Dark eyes stared up at the ceiling as her pupils dilated and the stirrings of lust roamed her belly. This first seconds of wonder never lasted past his first move to consummate the act of love making.
"Tom," she said his name in a small, tepid voice.
He grunted, "Yes, Carrie."
Her hand trembled as she bravely took his hand and slid it down onto the junction of her thighs. The resulting stillness created by her action resounded across the room like a bomb exploding. A tousled head of hair moved up so he could look at her face. Confused innocence mingled with the wanton curiosity on his face was not seen by her upturned eyes. Their bodies slid comfortably into a spooned position and he did not move his hand.
"I'm not sure-" he began.
She silenced his guilty questioning with a heart felt, "Please."
Her hand covered his and only seconds later her body was yearning for sweet pleasure. It was the beginning of a journey only honesty could bring.
The End.
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