The AMAZING Anne Schilde left this as a comment on my Whisper post and it was TOO gorgeous not to share. Grab a tissue (yes, for THERE) and enjoy.
Don’t be afraid. It’s only a whisper.
It tickles a little, I know, warm and gentle under your ear. It’s okay. It’s only a whisper.
The tiny hairs on your neck rise in alarm when they feel my breath. “Marian!” they warn. “She’s so close!” Hehe! No one can hear them. They only whisper!
Goosebumps rise at your nape, toppling down your body like tiny little dominoes of joy, telling me when to stop… begging me not to stop… worrying I will find the one tile that fell astray and I will know WHERE to stop. Worrying the secret has already been whispered.
I breathe you in. You inspire me! You know you do! I’m so close, and the cool air pulls you past my lips to savor your scent. Your perfume has faded. It’s the whisper of you, you! that quickens my heart and you feel me tremble with yet no touch. So, so close. I can feel your skin whisper.
“You’re so beautiful, Marian!” My lips tease the outline of your shoulder with my words. Tiny…… p-p-puffs….. of air. Somewhere a fallen domino of surrender whispers.
I let out a long, slow, gentle breath, perfectly, as smoothly as I can. In the perfection, you can feel my flaw, my heartbeat on my breath, tracing the curve of your breast with the tapping pulses of my excitement, “so beautiful!” my lips pause to listen to your their lie, “the domino fell here!” Its lie is but a whisper.
I crave them! “Shh!” I whisper.
…and my breath licks the little liars. You are as excited as I am. As I relax and breathe over your tummy, rising and falling with its undulations of anticipation, always close, never touching, it happens. A tremor. I can’t tell… whether it’s jealousy or ecstasy… whether it was you or me… when I feel its whisper.
My lips devour you. Every beautiful inch of you. Your crying muscles and your smooth, deserving skin. Touching only the tips of the titillated… erect… hairs, champing at their follicles, angry now that they can’t lay flat and pull me to you. I reach the scent of you. The secret, spicy wisp of the last fallen domino… never out of place… Strong now. Adoring! Enjoying!! Wet!!! And in their ravenous haste, my lips accidentally touch you. More than just a whisper.
It’s only a whisper.
Seriously. Do you need me to touch you?