Man: Wanted: Chapter Seven - Part Eight

We drifted off to sleep like that and I slowly came awake some time later, Sangeeta still fast asleep against my chest, her hand resting softly on my shoulder.

I didn’t move. Instead I took stock of our positions and the pleasant comfort of it. I had no compulsion to untangle myself. Instead I continued to sit, gently stroking her bare arm and her head, thinking I couldn’t be more content than I was at that moment.

After perhaps five more minutes went by, Sangeeta stirred against me. I went on stroking her and very gradually I felt her come to a drowsy half waking. She shifted, raising her head to show me her sleepy smiling face and murmured, “Mmm. This is nice.”

She snuggled against me again, gripping me tighter for a moment then relaxing into me, and we stayed there again until I slip her hand under my shirt and around my ribs. The drowsiness and the inebriation coupled with this motion into the most delightful warming arousal. She caressed my stomach and sides with her fingers and then lifted her head again until our lips met. We kissed in a perfect drowsy union and she undid one button after another down the front of my shirt. The kiss went on and on and on, one moment open mouthed, the next closed, our tongues meeting and then drawing apart.

I fondled her smooth shoulders and arms as she unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down around my knees, lifting her dress and repositioning herself.

The kiss barely ceased. If it broke we returned to one another immediately. The wine and the sleep had taken me into an altered level of consciousness.  It was dreamlike, what we were doing; just two lovers joined and questing to be joined still further.

Sangeeta reached between her legs, straddling me now, her bare knees raised high and for a second she grazed my cock with her fingertips. Then it slipped inside her and she leant against me, my arms going back round her of their own accord.

We didn’t pump. We rocked. There was no urgency this time; no desperate need. It was the embrace that meant everything, and that beautiful ongoing kiss, but the sexual arousal was like a warm cloud enveloping us; closing off the greater room and the house and the town and the world.

We rocked and we shifted, sometimes caressing one another, sometimes just cuddling. It went on and on and on and on and the pleasure only increased. That loss of self; the merging of two people: that only increased. There was no thought. There wasn’t even passion. It was juts warmth and affection and comforting pleasure. It was the most profound connection I'd ever felt. It felt like it could never end.

When the climax came it wasn’t an explosion of sweat and activity. It was just pleasure, rising without end and a dissolution of any sense of self, like our bodies were vapour, intermingled.

It rose and rose and rose until it was beyond anything I had ever imagined I could feel, then in a silent surge of bliss it wiped out all last vestiges of consciousness and we became one in this perfect clench of affection.

But even then it didn’t end for the pleasure went on; subsiding gently but continuing. And ever so slowly the ecstasy of that coupling became merged with the simple contentment of the ongoing embrace.

We shifted again, lying stretched now along the sofa, Sangeeta’s back to me, her form pressing against mine. I enfolded her again in my arms and we drifted once more, letting the drowsiness overtake us again.

I wanted to go on stroking the tender skin of her arms but my body wouldn’t do as I commanded. The sleep was overtaking me again.

I closed my eyes for a moment, then I closed them once again. When they closed for the third time they didn’t reopen and I tumbled into the darkness of peaceful and contented sleep.