Thoughts are tumbling today… a heady mix of memory flashes and of fantasy…
what has been
what will be
Watching friends smoke on the patio… lights overhead in the inky sky… a hint of dampness in the air … between my legs
Talk of everything and nothing
Curled up on a black couch, rubbing His collar between my left thumb and forefinger as you stroke my right arm… resting at pressure points… pausing to smile at the young girls… nuzzling in… both of us too tired to stay yet too tired to go… closing my eyes and imagining this
without barriers
without audience
without clock
The feel of my car pressed against my ass… the crisp cool night licking at the wet trails you’ve left on my neck… i shudder… you tell me i am moaning…
Imagining what sounds i might make when they aren’t there on the patio… smoking, laughing, watching the silly old people make out… when you’ve unfolded me, smoothed me out, calmed me, and claimed me in that temporary place and time.
Nice, this dance we’ve started.
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