His Touch

Today’s post is a slightly more adult theme –



His hand resting gently against my thigh. A request, or a suggestion of more?  I can feel my heart quickening in response. My head and heart both saying ‘yes!’ He’s understood my acceptance of his warm touch to mean I am ready for the game and he slides it higher as I help and loosen my clothing. Who is this delicious stranger I wonder as he takes me closer to the brink. ‘The one’ my heart whispers, but I’ve no idea what that means.

His touch, the touch of his hands as they gently caress, the touch of his breath: warm and deep, the touch of his tongue, oh my….. the touch of his tongue.

My breath is ragged now and he senses it, stopping and releasing me from the hold he’s had over me. He sits up and smiles. I smile back wondering what’s wrong.

“Come,” he says taking my hand. “Not here.”

As we leave the cinema I get a really good look at this delicious stranger for the first time. My heart quickens once more as I follow him, as I will always follow him if that’s what he wants.

Love at first touch, is that really a thing?


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