C0usin Dressing Indian

We’re dancing… bodies held close… swaying slowly to the sound of the music the rain plays for only the two of us hear. You dip your head to smell my hair, held off my neck with one clip… your lips locating the cord of my neck just below my ear… wolf-like smelling the blood that pulses there and brushing over it lightly… following the flow… bathing it in your hot breath… the sheer intimacy of the act sending a spark of electricity through my entire body and making my knees weak for just a split second… long enough for you to dip me, removing my balance… making me completely dependent on you as your head dips even lower to plant one long, soft, scent inhaling kiss in the cleavage exposed by my dress. Bringing me back to my feet we stop swaying… our eyes locked… souls exposed… recognized… reminded. Your face slowly nears mine… and our lips meet… finally… just barely brushing against each other… tongue tips just barely brushing here and there… tasting… tentative… wanting… needing…. "Yeah but I'm your bitch." He retorted with equal happiness. As a response, the female would lower herself to his level with a teasing ease, allowing her lips to gently skirt across his before coming to lovingly join the pair. The moon's peak had begun to show itself before the pair's passion-filled session began to spice itself up. Her hands slide themselves to gently run themselves around the edge of his red shirt, only coming to tightly grasp it so to pull it up and free his sun-kissed chest so that each individual muscle may glimpse as the night's early signs began to show themselves. Her eyes shot open to stare upon and witness the state of each hardened region, even her lip coming to bare the signs of attraction as her pearly white's sank softly into its flesh. Almost as if she couldn't control herself, her finger slide from collar to crotch without missing a single muscle to run itself over. A light shutter hit the wind before her back straightened itself and she'd lifted.
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