Read Online Light and Wine by Sparrow AuSoleil - Free Book Online
Authors: Sparrow AuSoleil
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thumbs. She trembles inside, under the surface of thin skin, and I am beyond enamored watching her blossom for my touch, but I cover the most sensitive part of my gift with both hands just for a moment.
With an overjoyed heart and a promise to always protect, provide for, adore and venerate this light, I give more thanks.
A sweet, small, and familiar plea fills my ears as little Heaven rocks under my prayer, longing with love for me to be His instrument.
She’s waited so long for this love to bloom.
But not as long as I have.
Curving my fingers, I bring nearly-white lace away from willing hips and slowly down little devoted’s thighs. She exhales as delicate openwork fabric slides down baby-smooth legs, relaxing back onto the altar in bareness that leaves her completely vulnerable and completely safe at the same time.
My body, however, is far from relaxed. Standing above her, trusting and tranquil and unadorned, save for her tiny pink rosary, my veins fill and the muscles of my spine straighten as hers unwind. With my collar still in her hand, Lacie rolls her shoulders against silk on velvet with her eyes on mine, and I palm myself through black cotton, answering a need that I’ve denied not only all night, but for so long. The relief it brings is almost as strong as the need it feeds.
Hazel eyes glint and open wider as she fills her chest with a shaky breath. Bare insteps and warm calves brush upward along the outsides of my legs, and she gives me the most sincere smile as she sits up.
“Let me?” she asks with soft confidence, tucking hair behind her left ear with one hand as she rests her other on my belt, just above my own. “Please?”
My lips part, but there are no words for the strength and certainty of this longing. It takes my breath and makes swallowing difficult.
Placing my collar next to her on the altar, confession clean love places her same hand over mine, over me, and I don’t hesitate to shift our touch, instinctively helping her palm and fingers curve and press and hold in a way I haven’t in years. Yearning and comfort thrill and ache with euphoria I’ve never known, making it hard to stand as she moves her left hand under mine, too.
Carefully holding and feeling the outline of where I’m sorest and fullest, Lacie slides her touch to encompass all of me. With her eyes on mine, she smiles as my chest tightens and my limbs tense, and as my lips start to follow that shape around a sound I can’t swallow, she returns her fingers to my belt.
I blink and press my lips together, half in pain and missing, wanting gentle affection back where I ache most, and half in acknowledgement for what’s coming. She moves with every bit of slow care I gave thanks with, and I steady my feet for her reverence. Gently cupping her cheek in my right hand, I keep my left over both of hers, grateful for every bend and pull and brush of her fingers as she unbuckles leather from nickel.
Slipping the button and tugging the zipper, little light is bold for one so bare. Her eyes brim with adoration as she slides her hands to my hips and finds belt loops for her fingers to curl around.
Nervousness pulses through me.
This is the first time in my adult life I’ve been undressed by a woman, the first time I’ve been undressed by anyone.
But we’re here now.
We could have been separated by impossibly different circumstances, by miles or lifetimes. God could have challenged our souls to go through anything and find one another any number of ways, but she is she and I am I. The love we’re together in is perfect, and her fervor within it belies her age and size, and carries all of my timidity away with a deep breath, leaving me made of earnest admiration.
With the slightest pull of her fingers, black trousers fall, and I step easily out of black shoes and socks, leaving me in black boxer briefs that cannot begin to hide my body’s soul-deep anticipation. Wide pupils and thin glints of hazel never leave my eyes
With an overjoyed heart and a promise to always protect, provide for, adore and venerate this light, I give more thanks.
A sweet, small, and familiar plea fills my ears as little Heaven rocks under my prayer, longing with love for me to be His instrument.
She’s waited so long for this love to bloom.
But not as long as I have.
Curving my fingers, I bring nearly-white lace away from willing hips and slowly down little devoted’s thighs. She exhales as delicate openwork fabric slides down baby-smooth legs, relaxing back onto the altar in bareness that leaves her completely vulnerable and completely safe at the same time.
My body, however, is far from relaxed. Standing above her, trusting and tranquil and unadorned, save for her tiny pink rosary, my veins fill and the muscles of my spine straighten as hers unwind. With my collar still in her hand, Lacie rolls her shoulders against silk on velvet with her eyes on mine, and I palm myself through black cotton, answering a need that I’ve denied not only all night, but for so long. The relief it brings is almost as strong as the need it feeds.
Hazel eyes glint and open wider as she fills her chest with a shaky breath. Bare insteps and warm calves brush upward along the outsides of my legs, and she gives me the most sincere smile as she sits up.
“Let me?” she asks with soft confidence, tucking hair behind her left ear with one hand as she rests her other on my belt, just above my own. “Please?”
My lips part, but there are no words for the strength and certainty of this longing. It takes my breath and makes swallowing difficult.
Placing my collar next to her on the altar, confession clean love places her same hand over mine, over me, and I don’t hesitate to shift our touch, instinctively helping her palm and fingers curve and press and hold in a way I haven’t in years. Yearning and comfort thrill and ache with euphoria I’ve never known, making it hard to stand as she moves her left hand under mine, too.
Carefully holding and feeling the outline of where I’m sorest and fullest, Lacie slides her touch to encompass all of me. With her eyes on mine, she smiles as my chest tightens and my limbs tense, and as my lips start to follow that shape around a sound I can’t swallow, she returns her fingers to my belt.
I blink and press my lips together, half in pain and missing, wanting gentle affection back where I ache most, and half in acknowledgement for what’s coming. She moves with every bit of slow care I gave thanks with, and I steady my feet for her reverence. Gently cupping her cheek in my right hand, I keep my left over both of hers, grateful for every bend and pull and brush of her fingers as she unbuckles leather from nickel.
Slipping the button and tugging the zipper, little light is bold for one so bare. Her eyes brim with adoration as she slides her hands to my hips and finds belt loops for her fingers to curl around.
Nervousness pulses through me.
This is the first time in my adult life I’ve been undressed by a woman, the first time I’ve been undressed by anyone.
But we’re here now.
We could have been separated by impossibly different circumstances, by miles or lifetimes. God could have challenged our souls to go through anything and find one another any number of ways, but she is she and I am I. The love we’re together in is perfect, and her fervor within it belies her age and size, and carries all of my timidity away with a deep breath, leaving me made of earnest admiration.
With the slightest pull of her fingers, black trousers fall, and I step easily out of black shoes and socks, leaving me in black boxer briefs that cannot begin to hide my body’s soul-deep anticipation. Wide pupils and thin glints of hazel never leave my eyes
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