by Laura Mason
I open my eyes in the blue-grey light of the early morning, but all I can see is Ray. His body warm alongside mine, close though no longer entwined, his face so near mine I can count his eyelashes. Trace the few faint lines on the relaxed visage. See each individual beardhair poking up, brown and red and touchingly, grey, soon to be shaved smooth. Ray's warm breath is on my face in deep, even puffs, and for a few minutes longer I enjoy the sensation, counting his heartbeat -- or my own -- not wanting to move and end this sharing of heat and air, blood and time.
But there is so much more...I pull away slightly and Ray makes no noise, no move to hold me. He merely lies there, facing where I was, trusting and peaceful. I reach out a single finger to touch the ear presented to me, one soft motion, then further to the short, soft hair behind that ear. I move forward and the very tip of my tongue, dry and pointed, sneaks out to trace the whorls of that ear, to taste that warm, soft skin. My hand stays on his head, and I feel the vibrations when he snuffs and moves, removing his ear from my reach.
I laugh silently and pull back for a moment. He's face down now, a hand over the ear I've been tasting, but his neck, all muscle and tendon and vulnerability, is there. The colors of Ray -- even the dim light doesn't leech him into bland colorlessness. There is peach in his skin, but also blue tracery of veins, golden touch of sun on his arms and face, greenish paleness on more intimate areas.
I bend and cover his neck with my mouth, just holding it gently in my teeth. Then I move and cover his body with my own, full length, to feel his skin against mine. His pajama bottoms, soft as they are, distract me. I release him so I can remove the bothersome fabric. Ray moans again, softly, as I move his legs and slide the silk down his long legs. I hear him mutter "Canadians don't sleep?" before he rolls flat on his back and opens sleepy green eyes to meet my gaze.
The pajamas are thrown aside and I'm back atop him in a flash, my mouth on his, cutting off his sarcasm. Soon he'll be incapable of talking, and I take delight in knowing I can do that to him. Ray relaxes even more, yielding to me, and I love him for submitting. Ray's mouth is sweet and hot, no discernable taste, just sharp teeth and smooth tongue and mobile, gentle lips. My own mouth is more demanding, forcing its way inside, claiming him. I pull back from his lips, now red and swollen, and laugh when I see how deeply he's breathing, his chest heaving. I target his neck again, kissing my way down until I can chew on the junction of his neck and shoulder. I remain there, licking and then biting, enjoying how his sighs turn to moans and then yips of almost-pain.
This is where the faintest Ray-scent resides, where aftershave mingles with sweat and spice for the most public eau de Ray. I breathe deeply through my nose as my mouth sucks at him. Elaine knows this smell, as do far too many others who hug and touch Ray. He is mine. I would eat him, all of him, swallow him whole if I could. Instead, I mark him as my own and move on.
My hands stroke Ray's ribs and chest, and my mouth zeroes in on a rose-brown nipple. I pull back to admire the reaction, the skin puckering and the point hardening. A finger touches, then two squeeze, then one is back to flick at the sensitive skin as my mouth moves to its mate. My face nuzzles at the soft hair on his chest, and when both hands are occupied with his nipples, my teeth pull at his crucifix. I release it to whisper "Spread your legs" and watch Ray's face as he complies with the order, his eyes opening to meet mine with such trust, so much love.I lower my head to his chest again, biting harder now and twisting sharply. I slide my body lower, settling between his thighs, my hands moving to hold his wrists in place alongside his body, but my mouth remains fixed on his left breast. Our bodies are pressing together, but his hips don't move even when I rub against him. Ray, you've learned so much and you give me what I need.
I lift myself off him, still restraining him, and lower my mouth to his groin. Ray is muttering in Italian now, between the moans, but gratifying as that is, I don't touch him. Ray is erect and a drop of ejaculate adorns the tip of his penis, glittering in the light now coming through my window. Hmm, such riches and what to do? Taste it? Place a finger there and gently spread it? I blow gently across the head of his penis while I ponder. Leave it alone and wait for more, I decide, ignoring the tumescent organ and instead bury my nose in Ray's navel, biting at his belly.
Ray's body bucks, but I hold him down and ignore his pleas. "Don't move" I whisper, pushing on his wrists for emphasis before I release them. His head is rolling back and forth on the pillow now, eyes closed, every muscle tense. Beautiful. Ray is always cold in my apartment, but now the heat rises off him and perspiration beads on his neck, his chest, his face. Musk rises from him, filling my senses and amplifying my own desire. One touch, one low cry, and I leave his magnificent erection to move on.
Ray's body has more hair than my own, but his thighs are still sweet and smooth. The soft skin of the inside leads me down to the back of his knees, exposed by the way he has spread himself open for me. I lick and bite at the tender flesh, letting Ray know I appreciate how he is displayed, then pick up one foot and gently kiss his toes, one by one, then raise the leg straight in the air, my hand below his knee, holding him out of my way as I lift his hip and expose his lovely ass to view.
Ray's hands are fisted in the sheet now, and I pull one free and make him hold his own leg. Then I raise the other leg, biting at his ankle for a few minutes before that, too, is pushed toward his chest. He waits for me to move his hand, and now he is perfectly displayed, holding himself open for me.
His ass, his legs with white knuckled hands holding them splayed, his purple-red erection throbbing and covered with his essence, his heaving chest and fiery eyes that glow with passion -- all mine.
We have been lovers for months now and Ray is finally able to take me, to let me fill him. I still prepare him, using my tongue first, then fingers coated with lubricant to open him for me. His cries as I breach his body are music, and so is the feel of him inside, warm and strong and yielding. He is panting for air, and I know I could bring him to orgasm with just my fingers, without touching him anywhere else. But I still want more.
I move back to fill my eyes with him again. Ray is shaking now, biting his lip as I run my hands over him, touching him everywhere but where he wants to be touched. I raise myself over him, not letting my body touch his, and kiss him until his lip, my lip, is free. Only I can mark him; Ray should know that. I suck at the tender flesh until he writhes, touching me.
"I said don't move," I scold, backing away from him completely.
"What do you want, Ray?"
"Please touch..." His plea ends in a moan. I will touch him, taste him, smell him. He is mine. But first...Without touching Ray, I bring my erection to his opening and hold it there. "Here, Ray. Feel me touching you." I push in slowly, excruciatingly, dragging out his torment and my own. I breathe deeply, concentrating on control, but I'm overwhelmed by Ray's arousal and my own, mingling in the air between us into something unique. Still I continue to move glacially, listening to the musicof Ray's whimpers and cries, watching his cock bobbing, dripping, wet and hot for me.
Finally I am in him and can go no further. Ray's eyes are closed, tears dripping down his temples. His hands remain where I placed them, though the effort shows in his arms and his whole body as he shakes beneath me. I bend forward to cover him, pressing his cock down, sharing breath with my love.
"Are you ready for me, Ray?"
"Yes." A whisper, a whimper.
"Open your eyes, lover." He obeys, and I am drowning in his eyes, my only air his exhalations, my only senses what I feel where we are joined. I kiss him again, gently this time, so long that I'm afraid we'll both pass out while our mouths communicate love without speaking a word.
When I break the kiss and pull back, Ray knows what is coming. He smiles at me, that goofy smile that I love, his eyes happily glazed as he sucks in oxygen. I move, pulling slightly out of him, then back into the depths of him. Over and over, the motion continuing until I am pulling myself almost all the way out, then slamming back in. Ray's hips rise to meet me on every plunge, his voice all grunts and moans now, growing hoarse from his screams of pleasure.
My own voice must be loud also, for I hear Ray encouraging me to be louder, harder, faster, to fuck him -- but we don't fuck, we make love, even when I need to dominate him, to claim him, to ride him until he cannot sit without pain and to mark his flesh with bruises. All that is my love and Ray accepts it.
I am so close to exploding into pleasure, and I know I want Ray to do the same. One hand unlocks from his hip, where it has been pulling him onto me, and reaches for his erection. I barely touch him, wrapping my hand around the shaft, when Ray cries out, arches up, and erupts. Arcs of semen touch his chest, his face, his belly. I continue to jerk him, and he screams and tightens around me, all his muscles protesting the continued stimulation to his sensitive organ. Just what I need. I slam into him a final time and pour myself into him, imagining a river of potency flowing between us, wishing I could leave a part of me inside Ray forever. He has collapsed beneath me, and only my two hands now grasping his thighs hold us together. Ray looks like a rag doll, limp and boneless, and I slide my right hand up and over his belly, where I can feel myself, my still-erect penis, within Ray's body. He has accommodated me, his body has stretched and grown to hold me, to hold my seed. I shake slightly as the last spasms run through me, and suddenly I am weak.
I lower Ray's body to the bed, trying to be gentle as we disengage, but I am still swollen and Ray moans as I pull away. There will be time later to clean ourselves, to talk, to begin the day. For now, I simply move up beside him, wrap my arms around him, and -- even closer than we began -- let my lover fill my senses.
Lyrics courtesy of nona: "Annie's Song" by John Denver
You fill up my senses
Like a night in the forest
Like a mountain in springtime
Like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert
Like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses
Come fill me again
Come let me love you
Let me give my life to you
Let me drown in your laughter
Let me die in your arms
Let me lay down beside you
Let me always be with you
Come let me love you
Come love me again
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