June 2010
2 posts
3 tags
i tired of him making fun of my whitesnake obsession, so i danced for him like tawny kitaen: white dress, wild hair. he stared at me, eyes wide, lips parted and smiling. after the song ended he pulled me down onto his lap. i freed him of his jeans, touched his mouth with my fingertip, kissed the bridge of his nose. he lifted me up with one arm around my waist, entered me, pulled me back down....
1 tag
there’s a tenderness to his touch that wasn’t there yesterday. maybe he senses the distance between us: the fresh length of who i am from who he is. he stands behind me, close, lips pressed into the tender flesh behind my ear. i love you so much he whispers, kissing my stretched lobe and sighing deeply.
i don’t reply.