Your First Time

 
With nothing but this thin fabric to separate us,
I run my eager tongue along you,
the mostly transparent pastel lace
a rough and pleasing textural complement
to your escaping moisture.

You shrink away,
unused to the sensation,
and I pull you back to me,
using my hands to steady
and pet you into stillness.

The knowledge that I am the first woman
to ever taste you
drives me to my best work;
this moment will be memorable for you,
and I would have you remember me fondly.

My thumb traces a gentle circle,
and I am rewarded
with your sharp intake of breath,
and more wetness coating my tongue.

Knowing you are at last ready for me,
my fingers press against you,
feeling the dampened fabric resist me
then brake as I plunge into you.

You gasp and go still as I begin slowly,
then melt into me,
your hand moving to the back of my head
to urge me on.

I shred your thin lace covering
as you shed your inhibitions.