Annie kissed Jane’s neck, then her shoulder, and along her bra strap. She traced a path of soft kisses all the way to where her breast curved out of her bra. It was as though Annie wanted to kiss every last inch of Jane’s skin, which was fine by Jane. She reveled in Annie’s touch. And if it was Annie’s goal to slowly, by the gentle administering of kisses and the lightest of caresses, encourage Jane to stop overthinking this, it was working.

Finally, Annie made a move to get Jane out of her bra. Jane arched her back to help her and relished the feeling of her breasts being freed. And of Annie’s eyes on them.

“I need you naked,” Annie whispered and went to work on getting Jane’s panties down her legs. Jane noticed the use of the word need instead of want. Annie might have already had an amazing—her words—climax, but she needed this as much as Jane did.

At last, they were both naked.

“You’re so beautiful,” Annie whispered and came to lie next to Jane.

Jane turned her head and sought Annie’s mouth. She kissed her wife and as her tongue slipped between Annie’s lips, she spread her legs—granting Annie access. Jane cupped the back of Annie’s head, making clear she wanted Annie’s mouth to remain on hers. Wasn’t a kiss the most intimate gesture of all? The mingling of breath, the opening of lips toward the other? But as Annie’s hand traveled between her legs again, in search of Jane’s pleasure, Jane concluded, that was most intimate of all. Because Jane had to lose herself twice. First in the kiss, and second in Annie’s touch. It took a higher level of trust—at least for her it did.

Annie’s finger circled her entrance while her tongue swirled in and out of Jane’s mouth. It was a delicate dance that lifted the ability of Jane’s senses to feel, hear and smell. Her eyes were closed and she could still smell Annie on her fingers. The light groan coming from Annie’s throat echoed her own. And, oh, that finger down there. Jane felt its touch reverberate deep within her, dislodging whatever had been stuck. The part of her that had been standing in the way of her own pleasure.

Annie’s finger didn’t enter her, but instead focused on Jane’s clit again. Annie rubbed it lightly, not applying too much pressure, then let her palm fall flat on Jane’s pussy before cupping it gently.

“Just a second,” Annie breathed into Jane’s ear. “Don’t move.”

“What is—” Jane started to say.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” Annie flashed her another smile. One that didn’t invite any more questions. Jane knew what was happening and she trusted Annie to take care of it.