Bead of sweat
the thermometer is reading ninety-fucking-mental and slow, lazy lines of sweat trickle down your body, tracing the curves of your breasts and belly and thighs in long, slow lines. i follow them with my mouth, saline dribbles wet against my lips. i chase a little rivulet down your spine to its tip with my tongue.
i kneel and pull your cheeks apart and watch as the tiny droplet of sweat slides slowly down between them. you start to touch yourself as the tip of my tongue meets the bead of sweat and i feel you quiver at the feather-light touch of my lips on your ass. i kiss you like i would kiss your mouth, luxuriously and wet. your hips thrust and delirious moans explode from your chest and, as your orgasm builds, i feel you twitch and relent and i push my tongue into you as you come. sweat pours down you, in the heat of your passion and the day, as my hands clasp your butt cheeks greedily as my tongue plunges deep into you and you shudder and scream as you orgasm blasts through your whole body like a thousand tiny firecrackers dancing through your every nerve.
after, we collapse in a hot and sticky heap, we grin and hug and remind each other just how much we love each other.