Lily in Bloom

Oh, Lily, I'm sorry. I took your attention." Emmaline caught my hand, then sucked my finger into her mouth.
The world stopped for me.

Everything fell away except the hot wetness of her mouth around my finger. She held it thus. Slowly she slid it past her plump lips. "Better?" she whispered.

I could only nod. An unspoken longing rose in me to feel those lips again. Not the hard demanding lips of a man, but the tender velvet of a woman's. Barely aware of what I was doing, I leaned forward ever so slightly. Emmaline must have understood, for she met me halfway, brushing my lips with hers. They were as caressing on my mouth as they had been against my finger, more so, for she delicately feathered her lips back and forth. I experimented with her. I'd never been afforded a kiss like this and caught the back of her neck with my hand, unwilling to let her go.

Her tongue licked along the seam of my mouth and taking her meaning, I opened to let her in. Her invading tongue twined about mine in a sensuous dance. Out tongues mated, playing first in my mouth and then in hers.

I never thought I could enjoy intimate contact that way. I had believed my husband that I was frigid for that was how he made me feel. Cold. Frozen. Under her tender touch I warmed back to life.

I've no idea how long we kissed, but I didn't draw away until I became aware of her hands moving about my body. I broke off in surprise as her hand found my breast. I could feel the warmth and pressure through my gown. Her thumb brushed back and forth across my nipple which grew harder until it strained against the cotton as if seeking her flesh.

"We shouldn't." My words came out slurred and hoarse. I sounded drunk, felt drunk, intoxicated by the sensations.
"Let me, Lily," she whispered, her mouth wet against mine. Her tongue came out to flick my lower lip.

With a groan, I sunk my mouth back against hers. Her hand slipped inside my bodice, giving that greedy breast the touch it desired. Long clever fingers caught my nipple, pulling and twisting it. Her hand moved from one aching breast to the other.

I sunk my hands into her hair in unbearable excitement. Her braid loosened and fell onto her shoulder, thick and soft, so very soft. Her attention to my breast grew rougher, but it was glorious. I never wanted her to stop.