So it comes down to this.
There are no more distractions, no more throngs of people, nothing but this moment, she and I alone, face to face. My heart pounds in my chest, and my stomach flutters. Nothing to be afraid of, nothing at all. This I know beyond certainty in my mind; telling it to my body is another thing altogether. She is my sweet love, my soul sister, my best friend. I am anxious in every sense of the word. I have been both looking forward to this moment, and terrified of it as well.
Suddenly I am overwhelmed with the situation and the prospect of what is to happen next, feeling like someone has hit me in the gut with a sledghammer. I tell myself that feeling this way is ridiculous, but unfortunately the body and the mind don't always communicate as they should. She takes my hand and helps me to lie down on the bed, helping to calm me, soothe my nerves, stroking the hair at my temples. Some minutes later the feeling subsides, and I get dressed for sleep. We get into the bed together, pull the sheets over us both. She holds me and murmurs words of solace to me, tucked soundly against her.
I close my eyes and take deep, steadying breaths, analyzing the physical reaction I had just experienced. Of course I know exactly why I'm so nervous, but that doesn't help at all. I have never been this physically intimate with anyone in my life, and if I think about it too much I'd probably freak out again. I never found it possible to let down my walls and make myself that vulnerable before, not until this love of mine came along in the guise of an old friend. I never wanted to. I was in a relationship with a man for almost half a decade, but it was nothing much more than friendship, companionship, familiarity. The strong desire I feel for my pretty girl was nonexistant in my relationship with him. I loved him, but I was never in love with him. To be more specific, I was in love with the idea of being with someone. I'm glad I realized my folly before I had taken it to the extreme. Because with her I am at once happy, complete, secure. And in love.
I don't remember exactly how things turned from comfort to intimacy; perhaps it's a testimony to her gentle nature, or at least, of her love for me. She unbuttons the front of my silk nightshirt, parts it to reveal my nakedness. She begins caressing me with care and kissing me with such passion and depth of emotion that all my nervousnesses shrivel away. At last I can open myself fully to it. To her.
She is totally aware of my trepidation, and she proceeds with careful touches and whispered questions. I am only fearful of one thing: disappointing her. She assures me that it's not possible, but I cannot help feeling this way. She has dedicated our time together to pampering me and making sure that I am loved like never before. So far tonight I have felt nothing but. Her fingers graze along my belly and she watches me as they meet with the most guarded part of me. It startles me even as it excites me; it is something I have never experienced before. What a sensation. There's already a slickness there, and she strokes me, at first gently, then with more fervor, as she sees and feels my positive response. This is so much different, thousands of times better than pleasing myself. Every touch feels even more wonderful when the person you love brings you to ecstasy like this.
When she moves to sit at my feet, my sense of panic flares up for a moment. What did she mean to do now? As she hooks my legs over her shoulders, I know. I can't stop from shaking at not knowing what's going to happen next, and she's slow and gentle and taking her time along the way. When I feel her lips and tongue upon me I gasp.
I lose all sense of reality and all track of time as she kisses me, flickering a tongue forth into me, causing me to writhe and squirm and whimper beneath her ministrations.
This is what happiness is all about. This is what love is.