The Little Kisses

It’s only polite that she answer his letter, isn’t it?

She has… issues. Because of this, he’s very careful with her. He knows she craves love, attention, gentleness and the sweetness of those long, breathless moments of romance.

She’s a dreamer. Lonely not only for his love but for the affection and adoration he brings her.

I hope he comes home soon.

If you cry, forgive me. If you blush, I’m not to blame.

Merry, Happy Everything.

Suggested song: Fall for You by Leela James

SC/sc

My dearest love,

Another week is nearly gone.  How many nights has it been now since I have felt your touch or tasted your kiss? And the weekend looms with only the promise of your memory to keep me company.

Knowing that you will soon be with me again brings some comfort, but my arms still ache with longing to hold you.  The nights are cold and lonely without your gentle love, your soft voice singing quietly at my ear, the feel of your breath along my skin.  The pillow is lumpy and uncomfortable in comparison with the soft warmth of your chest and I feel exposed and vulnerable to the darkness without your arms around me to keep me safe and warm.

For long, sleepless hours every night, I lay on the bed we’ve shared, staring up through the window that makes up the ceiling, counting the stars, watching the snowflakes fall through the darkness to cover the glass, quickly melting before they can cover the surface. Turning away, I stretch a wanting hand across your empty place in the bed to watch the endless twinkling of the holiday lights that decorate the perimeter of the long wall of windows facing out over the lake. Beyond them, caught in green garland lining the rails of the balcony outside, amid the occasional red bow, tiny white lights shine steadily into the night and cascade down in silent, streaming waterfalls over the balcony rail. They seem to me tiny beacons calling you home to my waiting embrace.

I dreamed last night that you held me in your arms.

So warm!  You were so warm!

There was nothing between us but the heat of our own shadows and I could feel the warmth of your touch against me.  You held me so close and whispered the most beautiful words against my lips in soft kisses.  When I sighed and reached eager arms around you, you gathered me closer and left trails of burning kisses along my throat, across my shoulders and down each arm, extending each out to better cover them in your kisses.  When each hand and every fingertip had been similarly adored, you returned to me and drenched me entirely with kisses.  All over my skin they fell, like a softly burning rain that was cooled only by your touch that followed every graze of your lips.

In wandering paths, your lips meandered across my skin, weaving a blanket of those kisses over my breasts, the rise of my ribcage, lightly and reverently over the long, ugly scar beneath my breast… down and down until you came to the strangely off-centre navel you so love to torment.  You made no exception now and teased the sensitive place with your lips and gentle fingertips.  When you were satisfied with my sighs and giggles, you continued on over the rounded hips, along the length of each thigh.  How I gasped when you suddenly strayed to the delicate skin along the insides of those thighs!  I could feel your smile as you made your way over my knees and along the calves, the turn of my ankles, and I giggled as you tickled the tip of each toe and the bottoms of my feet.

But I was greedy and wanting!  I gently sighed your name, and saw the moonlight sparkling in the brightness of your eyes as you smiled at me and made your way back to my lips once again, pausing to leave stray kisses at my thigh, my hip, my navel, along that brutal scar and over my heart.  At last, you pulled me close, covering me with your warmth, kissing my lips raptly.  When you drew back to lightly stroke my cheek, I shivered with the soft pleasure of it.  Hearing my sigh, you kissed my cheek then let a light fingertip trace my lips before kissing them softly and drawing back again.

You smiled and, taking my hand in yours, linked our fingers and quietly whispering my name against my lips, closing whatever space remained between us, uniting us in that familiar dance, you made love to me.  Slowly.  Softly.  Passionately.  Endlessly.  Until at last, clinging to you, I gasped your name, my one hand still clasped tightly in your own, the other holding to your shoulder, moving to lose my fingertips in the softness of the silver threads of your hair as we gave ourselves up to each other and fell together through the stars amid our mingled sighs and the whispers of our names.

Languid and contented at last, you lay lightly against me, our hearts pressed together so that I could feel the racing beat gently slow in your chest.  Still covering me in your warmth, your head rested on my shoulder one hand still woven together with mine. As my other hand played with the softness of your hair, your fingers lightly caressed my cheek, my arm, my side, my breast. When I sighed, you left little kisses along my skin and whispered pretty words and threads of song that made me giggle and blush until you laughed and teased me mercilessly with tiny kisses and light touches.  

When at last you gathered me to you, I lay breathless, warm and blushing against you, my cheek upon your chest, my hand on your heart, our limbs gracefully entwined beneath the covers you had drawn around us.  Your arms closed protectively around me and you held me close, as though protecting me from the waning night. As you quietly sang to me, I fell into a soft sleep, safe and warm in your embrace.

I awoke this morning with the soft material of your grey shirt tangled in my arms.  Somehow, it still bears the lingering scent of your cologne.  I sighed and held it closer, closing my eyes against the bright morning sunshine and the still twinkling Christmas lights.  I smiled and silently counted the long nights still remaining before you can hold me again.

I miss you.

SC/sc