A T-Girl Romantic Interlude

The button puts up little resistance as my shaking fingers slip it though its eyelet. The edges of your shirt catch on your erect nipples, leaving only your cleavage open to my searching mouth. Your pants ride low on your hips and I lean down to the edge and kiss my way along it within the opening of the shirt. My lips are warm and soft as I kiss a line across your abdomen between your navel and the top of your pants. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, reveling in my kisses and those of the breeze that brings a hint of the saltwater from the bay.

My hands squeeze and caress your firm thighs as my mouth turns and begins another journey across your stomach. This time it follows a line above your navel and over the edge of your rib cage. Your hands are resting on my shoulders and you can feel the muscles working beneath my bronzed skin. They don't pull or push, only follow along with my movements, like small boats follow the rise and fall of the sea. I move my mouth along edge of your ribs, a trace that leads the way to the valley between your breasts. Kissing you softly, my tongue darts out to taste your sun dipped skin, the tip of my nose draws its own line across your skin as it devours the fresh scent of the soap bought earlier today from a smiling, knowing woman in the market.

My cheeks and the corners of my mouth touch where your breasts rise up from your chest. I turn my head and my lips find the soft curve of your breast where it disappears beneath the shirt. I kiss the spot and nudge the edge of the shirt with my nose to reveal a little more breast, the nipple ever so barely covered by shirt. You tense up, believing that I'm going to uncover the nipple, but I only go back to the other side and nudge and kiss some more. I slide my hands up your thighs and you can feel the cool air kissing the spot where moments before they had paused. The heat from my hands radiates into your skin as I move them onto it from the cloth of your pants. They continue up along your ribs till the web between my thumbs and forefingers cup the underside of your breasts. The shirt falls open, allowing your full breasts to experience the warm evening air.