Sitting upright, high body tall and straight at edge of bed, Anna smiled as he leant in stand, face and body low to hers; grace of his kiss, supple and warm upon her lips of same, grasp of his hands to her tops of breasts, strong and firm—his feeling through—as kiss built in join of tongue.
It wasn’t supposed to be as this—romance and desire, passion’s share full-through to end—but such was as it lived and a way and wonder of love and spirit in their being.
Kiss-to-kiss, light of his body’s brush to hers, his hands from high, in pass of sides, his thumbs to high inner-thighs; her widen; her smile through the kiss; roll and fall of her body back, soft lifting of her spread; fit and feel, her hands in rise above head, as all of her body rocked in rhythm of their making; hands take again to high of her full-swelled breasts; open of lips, bare of her teeth, lips purse again in want-wait for kiss; bow of his body to hers in above, lips’ and all-love’s match.
It wasn’t supposed to be as this—but such was their love and spirit of being. Embracing, giving, sharing, taking, they kept in make and bliss of wonder-spirit’s being.