Lionel was a tactile lover, and Martha didn't mind it at all. She knew was because of his blindness, and she let him touch anything--everything--he wanted.
He was touching her now, one arm around her waist and holding her snugly against him as his fingertips swept over her face. Gentle, soothing touches that divined the height of her cheekbones, the fullness of her lips, the soft upsweep of her eyebrows. As they passed her mouth again, she kissed the worshipful digits softly, and the man behind her sighed her name.
She turned in his arms, putting them face to face, and his hand moved again, learning the curve of her hip, the flat plane of her back, the dip and swell of her cheeks and a gentle caress to the crease where thigh met ass. "It's okay, Lionel... I'm not asleep."
"I know," he said softly, deep voice almost a rumble as he kept it pitched low. "You are beautiful; if I regret anything, it's not having my eyes so that I can truly see you."
Martha's hands rose at that to do her own exploring. She ran her fingers through the length of his hair, feeling the soft curls weighing against her palm. She stroked over his bearded cheek, fingertips scraping lightly over the prickly hair on his face, then a slide over soft, flat lips and small lines at the corner of his eye. Her mouth pressed kisses to the hollow of his throat, learning the taste of his skin.
"Martha," he breathed again, and pulled her close. Their bodies snuggled together, the hard length of his shaft sliding between her legs and nestling against the outside of her entrance. Warmth all along his body, and Lionel sighed. "I haven't been this warm since Lillian died."
Martha's arms linked at the small of her lover's back, and pressed herself against his hard, naked body. "I'll keep you warm, Lionel. That's what I'm here for." She rubbed her cheek against his bearded one. "You've made me so happy; I want to be here with you."
Their breathing slowly synchronized as they lay in silence together, snuggled tightly under the expensive sheets of Lionel's bed.
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