Agreeing to meet for lunch, it has been a year since out first tryst. Promising to be on my best behavior I can’t help but be me. I over think everything. I want to wear something that makes me feel sexy.
I want you to see what you passed up on. Even if you won’t see my under garments I will know they are for you but if I go with the black lace matching set I know I will carry myself differently. I will feel sexy and confident in your presences and I am not allowed to feel that way, we agreed to friends. I promised to behave, no sex talk, no innuendos and I plan to keep my word.
Practically wins! I settle on a white lace bra that is slightly padded so my erect nipples will not protrude through my shirt. The white cotton boy shorts will soak up all the wetness your proximity creates. You don’t even have to touch me to make me want you; desire you, to get wet and ready for you to posses me.
You pick me up instead of meeting at the restaurant. That was not something I expected but was intrigued by the gesture. I didn’t get a chance to give you a hug hello but I did not have to, to know you smell the way you always do. We make small talk in your car on the way there and my mind can barely focus on what you are saying. Being near you makes me forget my place. You are not mine but I want you to be. I want to be yours.
The waitress seats us near the back and the lunch rush has already come and gone. Fiddling with the straw paper you ask if I am nervous. What am I suppose to say, “Yes, because I am afraid I am going to screw this up? That a week ago I confessed something to you that I should have never said? That every movement of your mouth make my fingers itch to touch your face, stroke your lips with my fingertips before I kiss you?”
I tell you, “Of course I am not nervous, why would I be?”
Luckily our food comes and saves me from having to say anything for a few minutes. We resume small talk about work, sports and you even ask about my children. I am worried we either have nothing to say to each other or there is too much sexual tension that we are trying to ignore or perhaps we really have nothing in common. Finishing up my salad I excuse myself retreating to the bathroom so I can get my bearings.
Staring at my reflection, “You are foolish you know that right?” Exhaling I turn away from the stupid girl in the mirror and lean up against the counter. Suddenly the bathroom door opens and I see those hypnotic eyes boring right through me.
With just a few steps you close the distance between us and finally your lips find mine again. My body becomes lax and melts right into yours.
To be continued……