When she comes to me, I will kiss her mouth gently, delving deep into her with the softness of my tongue, probing her for the secrets that lie within. I will strip her gently of all pretense as my hands pass over and over her body, and her mind and soul will lie open to my touch. Her body will arch toward mine when I cup her breasts in my two hands. Her softness will be my memory and her secrets my treasure.
I will move my lips over her skin, leaving a burning trail behind; it will be my mark on her flesh. Her virgin body has never been touched so; I will be its explorer, its pioneer. I will map the terrain of her body with my fingers and my tongue, its valleys and peaks and byways leading me inward to her center. And when I reach that place, that hot, sweet core of her, I will come to her more gently than you can imagine. No rough pounding here, no tearing and invading of flesh to hurt her and cause her to withdraw; her first time will be as beautiful and gentle as I can make it. For she is the treasure of my heart and the light of my eyes, and I will make this time full of wonder and tenderness for her.
She is my heart. I will make love to her when she comes to me. I want to hear her moan my name when our bodies move together, slick with sweat. I want to feel the curve of her hips under my hands and the soft firmness of her breasts under my lips as I move over her. When I cover my body with hers, crouching over her and bringing her to the very edge, I want to hear her whisper my name over and over, like a prayer. And when her hips arch against my hand and I bring her to that release, I want to hear her beautiful voice crying out into the still night air as she shudders and jerks under me. Then will I soothe her trembling with my hands and my words, and I will hold her against the night until the dawn greets us.