Her scent made it difficult to focus. It wasn’t every day that I woke up with her so close although she now shared my bed. My throbbing arousal caused a mountain tent on my lap through the bedding. On an average day, I could cope until my shower, but this morning I couldn’t and didn’t have to. She laid with her back to me, her long, loose hair was splayed across her pillow. The scent from her shampoo and other hair products was aromatic and alluring. I turned onto my side to graze her soft skin. I ached for her. She’d alchemized into my obsession in mere months—owned my every thought, personified my every craving.
Rayna wasn’t the type of woman who slept with her arms and legs draped across you. Not my lady. She much preferred her own space in the bed. There were nights that I lay awake, studying her soft angelic features, giving thanks to Allah for the gift of her in my life, in my home. In my bed. It took a little groveling, but damn if she didn’t finally relent making me the luckiest son of a bitch on the West Coast.
I enjoyed this cohabitation experience more than I initially thought I would. Like every morning, I yearned for her warm morning breath all over me as I reached over her and grabbed her left breast, kneading it through my fingers. So supple. Within seconds, she stirred. My hand traveled down to her soft yet firm left thigh, gently pushing her leg back onto mine so that I could find her clit, her pleasure control house. In no time, she purred from the slickness that I milked between her legs. She was so wet. So warm. Rayna always melted for me. I nibbled on her neck, calling to her awakening.
“Brimm, baby,” I whispered out in need of her.
She stirred again in her resting place, bringing her arm up to wipe hers eyes awake. I knew she was still slightly dozed, so I nibbled a little more as I stroked between her legs, two fingers entering in her soaked valley and called out to her again. Her eyes fluttered as she fully roused. She thrust her pelvis into my hand, giving into the stirring pleasure. She twisted her caramel body and turned to me with hooded eyes. Those eyes caused my near explosion as she moved toward me. Within moments and without instruction, she shifted and mounted me.
This is one of a sundry things I appreciated about Rayna; she was always ready to gratify, fervent in pleasuring. Yielding to my physical needs. Once she was saddled onto my cock, her wild mane cascaded down and around my face, she pulled the blanket up over us and took me for an erotic ride. And my girl did that well. I would fuck Rayna next to a corpse just to get my fill of her, but this morning I want her atop. This is her favorite position. Ironically, when she’s here, Rayna’s aggressive in her desire of me, more self-assured and effervescently feminine. This is how I longed for her to radiate every second of her life—strong, fierce in nature, and exuding self-confidence.
I pulled her face down to mine and covered her lips in a hungry kiss that took my breath away. Our tongues danced with fervor. Our lips locked hard and I sucked her tongue and each lip one by one. My fingers tangled in her hair until they itched to grip her lush ass. I grabbed a hold of each of her firm cheeks and pulled her into me with dire need. She moaned as she rocked on top of me with delicious plunges.
Fuck!
If she only knew how much I needed this, how much this connection with her now affirmed my being. Like the taut grip her hungry walls had on my dick, she held the source of my control. As though I was her very own marionette, she controlled the strings to my happiness, my destiny. Dictated my world. I can’t lie and say that I was comfortable with her having said power. I needed to know that she could responsibly govern my universe, and yet I couldn’t be so sure. But shit, when she put it on me like this, causing my fucking toes to curl and goose bumps to cover my skin—I knew the reality was that she owned every part of me. Mind. Body. And fucking soul.
I walked her to the door, sulking internally. This is the part of my job that I hate; saying goodbye before a trip. She smelled delightful in her Cool Water. Her ass puffed in her plum pencil skirt with her bone Prada pumps. Her hair was pushed back into a knotted ponytail and I suddenly noticed that she wasn’t wearing lipstick.
“Where’s your lip-gloss?”
Rayna was beautiful. Her caramel skin glowed radiantly without makeup or extra add-ons. Her lips were plumped and a shade darker than her face, helping to create the most alluring smile. Her eyes were dark brown and always kept you guessing what was behind them, making them so fascinating.