Doing Things With Skin

I almost tasted you.

You were right there, and you slipped between my fingers.
I could already feel your breath on my mouth, tasting your desire.
Your hands were firm as you held me close to you, as if
you were afraid.


Afraid that maybe if you let go you wouldn’t ever feel this amazing again.
That it would slip away, right between your fingers,
like whispers on the wind.


The longing that burned within your eyes was shared by me, hot and full of hungry passion.
Your tongue slid deep into my mouth, your body shook beneath my touch.


I could feel your hands cupping my breasts, my nipples were hard, begging for your attention.
I could feel the heat between my legs increase everytime your mouth landed on my flesh.
Or, your eyes.


Roaming, you tasted and kissed nearly every inch of my body as I writhed beneath you.
I was inhaling all of you.
I was intoxicated.


Just being near you intoxicates me.
Your scent.
Your need.
Your hunger.
It’s heavy and I long to drip with it all.
And, I almost tasted you, but alas,
I let you slip right between my fingers.


I could feel you, entering me.
Thrusting with power and control.
Each defined by purpose and followed with sounds of primal pleasure escaping
parted lips.


Had you stepped beyond your metal shield, had you approached the circle of air that I breathed,
you
would have been mine.


I almost tasted you.
I can’t stop thinking about you.