Afterglow (F-solo MF) 

Ummmm.... I had the best orgasm of my life just now, Jason. If I put my
hand down there, it would boil in the hot wet. Honey is leaking past
engorged lips, slipping behind and pooling underneath my body. It's a
strange, yet sensuous feeling -- like the thick sweet melt of a
popsicle dripping out of my mouth and onto my chin. I use what little
strength I have left to roll onto my side of the bed, away from the
mess.

It was the fingers that did the trick this time. Fingers long and
strong from good genes and hard work. Nails thoughtfully filed down for
exploration in delicate areas. Knuckles delightfully knobby. "Digits of
delight" you once called them, and I had laughed at how silly my
normally serious lover could be.

These were the fingers that traced the familiar and comfortable
contours of my body, stopping only to be dipped into that bottle of
almond oil you bought me on your last trip to California. It was a slow
tour that started at my collarbone and ended mid-thigh. Massaging the
oil around and around my heavy, dark-tipped breasts until the slightest
fingernail scratch made me moan. Pulling and pinching and squeezing my
nipples until I was gasping on cue. By the time the hands started
southward, I was slick with a thin coating of oil and sweat and panting
like a greyhound.

"You can't rush perfection," you told me the first time we made
love. And you certainly didn't -- the only way I had known that time had
passed was that the night sky had lightened to dawn. I had been aware
of nothing beyond the boundaries of the bed, beyond the reach of me and
you. "You can't hurry love," I had corrected half-jokingly, but I'm not
sure you heard. Your cock had stroked me and my nails had raked you
and it had felt like forever.

Tonight was different. I was strung tight and needed a quick release.
The thumping of my heart had transformed itself into a pulse of
pleasure further south. Glistening with oil and other fluids, my clit
rose like a mini-mountain from a forest of curly black pubic hairs. I
remember you said it was the biggest one you'd ever seen, and I had
felt slightly self-conscious; but then your lips had surrounded it and
I forgot about everything except how happy I was that I was there with
you. Tonight fingertips skimmed back and forth across that peak, light
but quick, rhythmically for the most part. At odd moments, the tempo
would speed up or the pressure would increase and I could feel my
orgasm welling up -- but then the fingers would slow down just enough
to keep me wanting more.

I always wanted more -- of your caresses, of your attention, of your
time. Once you asked me what I wanted in a relationship. Your lips were
gentle upon my nipple and my hand lay trustingly on your chest. "The
sun, the rain, the moon, the stars, and the mountains," I sang, and you
chuckled. But I wasn't really kidding.

The rubbing suddenly became intense and my orgasm burst through,
flashing through me like lightning, striking again and again. Each hit
made me curl my toes and arch my back and shout in time with the
rhythmic pulsing in my groin. Stomach and buttock muscles contracted
and released in concert.  Scenes from our past flashed unbidden across
my mental screen: the day we met; our first kiss; that time behind your
mama's house; the look on your face the night I came home early... and
the look on hers.

I had the best orgasm of my life tonight, Jason. Too bad you weren't
here to share it with me.