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She had read his words. And now she had the sound of his voice.
His laugh. She could picture his face as he smiled and now her mouth 
craved his lips, his neck, the taste of his skin.
A tongue desiring to to trail it’s warm wetness over the
plains of his body. Lips which ache to kiss him within an
inch of his life, yet bring him to untold heights of desire, 
of pleasure. And passion wins out, words, looks, wants that they had 
shared for what seemed like forever. A simmering desire, a longing need. Each  with their own stories, own lives, own experiences, own fantasies and thoughts which melt in searing heat of passionate desire. Taking is easy, falling is harder, as they give into the hunger. A meeting of lips, a delicious taste of succulent skin. Feeling the softness as hands tangle in a mess of hair pulling lips closer together. Harder together. Bodies melt into one, her own pinning his into the bed, hands searching, stroking. Touching. Exploring. The heady smell of his body, his scent, his aftershave filling her. Thighs pressing. Meeting. Touching. As her legs fall between his own and up to the heat and hardness of his body. Hands locked together matching as she moves them up above his head, lowering herself onto him. Her breasts meeting his mouth as he takes her hungrily. Tongue circling, searching, begging as she teases him moving back out of reach, frustrating him, tormenting him. He begs her. Drawing her into his mouth, suckling like a new born hungry for what ever is offered, trailing with his mouth, his tongue as he feeds hungrily.  She trails kisses on his face, down over his nose, kisses fluttering gently against his lips. Mouths meeting. Tongue fucking. As the warmth of tongues move over lips, needing. Hungry. Wanting. Bodies tremble as pleasure takes them. The feast begins as they take their fill and yet knowing that moment isn't enough, that there is more. So much more. That there will be more.