Kissing, standing, morning embraced still in naked of night, he moved her as they went. Step by step, he led her back, slow and gentle as their kiss. Reach of his hands to her low cool-skinned round, he lifted her in raise and rest to table’s edge.
Kissing still, then its break, gaze’s find—love and meekness in their eyes—a gentleness in the warm of morning light that glowed their bodies as their spirits.
His hands to her tops of thighs, thumbs into inner lines, gentle in their press as she opened and spread and he brought his body close; gentleness still in stares.
He held to her face and high limit of neck, coarse scratch of his winter, worker hands to the delicate of her smooth, gentle in hold, gentle in feel—even in their rough.
She held to him, arms under shoulders, in wrapping of back, hands’ hold to shoulder tops.
Gentle, intimate, he loved her there, neither speaking word. Language of love spoke in the eyes, way and warmth of bodies’ blush.
Eye to eye, and looking down, they kept in their gentle way. Meek-lipped smiles of soft-curled ends and eyes that smiled same—in love and the gentle intimacy.
He filled into her. She pressed onto him—warm and smooth and lovely sweet, gentle of every way.
Firmer hold of his body to her, brush of her nipples to his chest, moved in bounced in soft love-hitchings; their stronger in low at sense of the high; he in start and she in answer-response of same.
Widened smiles, brightened eyes, meek still in their way. Eye to eye, and looking down; stronger but still gentle, speeding but still slow.
Kiss again, delicate’s meet, warmth of breath through purse and soft holding to; brush of her nipples still.
Breaking again, meek’s love-gaze, heat blushings of their face; eye to eye, and looking down, sudden sensing of the change.
Holding, slowing, breathing, glowing—warm sense that broke full their smiles.
Eye to eye, still meek in glow, in love of their gentle way.