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Sex & Seduction

Sexual Fantasy        

         It was all fun and games until all of a sudden, seriousness had ensnarled my frolicsome streak when I looked straight into his eyes for the third time. His hand rested on my forearm; his complete awareness of how his fingers embroidered a million brooks on my skin disembogued in my heart and described the lines of my arms. Always the seeker, his curiosity crept under my sleeve until it became acquainted with my shoulder. As my collarbone waited in anticipation, his lips fell on my hips, which disoriented whatever strategy I had conceived to stay sane.

         In a shadowy whisper, he breathed my name. I felt his back tensing against my hands. Our bed sheets were wrinkled and hardly a light shone through our window. I had never wanted to dissolve into a man’s body so much. Not an iota of his desire did I wish to leave unsatisfied. I wanted to wrap my legs around his waist and ask him to lay his head on my chest to caress his hair, but my anticipation was no longer tender. My ways were haphazard, but something about the occasion made me want to go slowly: soul-kiss the hopes and dreams on his forehead, squeeze the life out of the fears that tormented his breast, and revere his affections which lit up his eyes. A few tears had expressed their desire to accompany me; I pleaded with them not to show up, for they would make me look like a weakling, but my pretensions made no difference to them. On the brink of a thrust, they steamed down my face and wetted my Love’s. True to their word, they only found solace when we smiled at each other, and he licked them off with meticulous care as he rested his wearied body on mine. Never had a burden been more welcome.

Windoftheclyde, 27
Santiago, Dominican Republic

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