He compliments my back as we stand there in the empty bar and he unzips the dress just enough so I can get out of it myself when I get home. His hands slide across the skin of my shoulders and I take a deep breath in as I can feel his breath across my back. Even now as I sit in bed, I can feel the excitement radiate out of the spot on my back where he kissed me. I struggle to keep my eyes open and every time I close them the sensation of his lips, tongue, and teeth echo. My shoulders automatically move down and back pushing my chest out and a small moan sweeps from my lips while my epidermis of my cheeks redden slightly.
Twenty minutes earlier he was the one with is back fully exposed, as I snapped a photo of one of his tattoos. Tomorrow I am suppose to chat with his two tattoo artists about how he needs to get some work done on it, after I buy a t’shirt for him, check to see if they still have a pieces of art and get my new tattoo done. The funny thing is that I don’t mind doing those things for him and in fact feel a lil honored that he rests those things and contacts of his close friends in my hands.
As we embraced I kept thinking that this wasn’t the time to lose my self control. Not there in the lounge after hours with Kevin asleep on the couch. As our hands traced the outlines of our lives, spelled out down our spines, and across the hipbones, I paced my breathing with his. And as moved his shaved head across my skin, we began to morph together, changing shapes, pressing, shifting. Behind each of our hands was a firm passionate which occasionally broke from its caressing to tense and grab a hold. He squeezed pulling my body into his and my feet up out of my heels. I wanted to stay in that embrace for days and I suppose we did – because in it time was of no consequence, and its reality was simply pushed aside.
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