A Beautiful Love

He sat up in bed and watched her sleep, watching her chest rise and fall with every breath. She looked angelic with the morning light playing across her lovely face. The night before, he had proposed to her as they walked on the beach hand in hand. She had smothered his face with kisses, saying “yes” over and over again. They had come home to his little apartment by the beach and made love. And of course it was incredible, like every other time. He loved her so much he was almost in pain. He was torn from his reminiscing as he watched her begin to stir. It seemed to take her a second to get her bearings and then when she saw him her face broke into a sleepy smile. 

“Hi” she whispered, reaching up for him to come to her. He leaned down to kiss her soft lips as he brushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
“Hey beautiful” he whispered back.
“Why do you look so serious? What are you thinking about?” she asked. She traced his lips with her fingertips until he grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers—one at a time. Finally he spoke.
“It hurts to look at you” he answered seriously. She raised her eyebrows in response.
“How so?” she asked him. 
“When I look at you, my chest feels like it’s going to explode…it’s hard to explain.” He struggled with words, he was never very good at them. But he wanted to convey something to the woman he couldn’t live without. “I don’t think anyone has ever loved someone more then I love you”, he said slowly.
“Wow.” she said through a smile. 

“Elizabeth, I’m serious”. He answered back, feeling as though she wasn’t quite understanding the depth of his love for her.

Her smile faded. He only called her Elizabeth in special circumstances. He usually always called her Liz. “I know you are, Kyle” she said as she stroked the side of his face with her palm. She kissed his lips in between words: “I’m so in love with you. I can’t wait to start our life together and--” 

He cut her off with a deeper kiss. They kissed passionately for awhile. She felt like they had mastered the art of kissing—she exhaled as he inhaled, and their tongues danced together as if they had been kissing each other all their lives. She rubbed his back as he began to move down to her neck. She was wearing one of his shirts, which he ripped off of her in one fluid motion. She moaned slightly as he moved down to her perfectly round breasts, kissing them all over as she ran her fingers through his dark brown hair. She inhaled sharply as he took a nipple in his mouth, gingerly kissing it. She began to breathe hard as he switched to the other breast. 

He kissed a trail down her flat stomach, which he greatly appreciated though he told her she wasted her time at the gym—she was already so beautiful. He came to the area between her thighs and she sighed deeply, waiting for him to make her go crazy, like he always did. He kissed up and down her thighs, arousing her further with anticipation. Finally, she felt his tongue enter her and she gripped the sheets.

“Ohh Kyle” she breathed softly as her moaning became louder and more frantic. He knew her so intimately; he felt like he knew when she would moan before she did it. He moved his tongue around her folds quickly and expertly, only glancing up briefly to see her excitement show openly on her face. “Kyle. I’m almost there” she moaned. His tongue picked up the pace until her breath came in frantic gasps and he could fully taste her arousal as she climaxed. She was sweaty and exhausted as she lay, trying to catch her breath. He smiled at her—feeling incredibly proud to be able to bring her such pleasure.

After taking a couple of minutes to recover, she moved slowly toward him. She kissed his neck and allover his muscular chest. Her hands moved allover his body—feeling everything as if she was blind and reading Braille. She finally let her hand fall down to his extremely hard manhood. She grasped his impressive length through his shorts and it was his turn to gasp in response. She slowly pulled his boxers down and threw them dramatically to the other side of the room, to which he laughed appreciatively. 

She kissed his lips deeply as she slowly moved onto him, positioning herself so that he was almost inside of her. He slowly thrust into her, finding a careful rhythm. They fit perfectly together—like pieces of a puzzle. It was like the cliché everyone used to describe them: they were made for each other. He moved on top of her and they were both beginning to breathe harder, her characteristic moans and gasps he knew so well were coming more frequently and he began to thrust harder and faster, which she met eagerly with thrusts of her own. They were at a frantic pace now, and she couldn’t help but pant his name, to which he moved faster in response. Finally they climaxed simultaneously and collapsed into a sweaty tangle of gasps. 

She smothered his face with kisses as she tried to catch her breath. It reminded him of the night before and her reaction to his proposal, except without the sweat.
“I’m so glad I’m marrying you, Liz” he whispered in her ear.

“I can’t wait to be your wife” she responded with a kiss, as she got up and paced naked to his shower. As he lay, he could hear her soft voice rising and falling in the shower, singing a song that sounded all too familiar. It was a song of love, he thought to himself, and fell asleep with the thought dancing through his head.