Laying back against the couch, your legs stretched out across the floor from where your hips sit at the edge of the cushion, your eyes close in the late afternoon sun. Jeans cling to you, tempting me where they hug your form and end at your waist, giving way to the shirt that caresses your chest and shoulders. Taking your hand, I lift it to my lips, watching the smile on your face as my kisses brush the length of your fingers. Now with both your hands in mine, I bring them up along the back of the couch, behind your head, as I lean in. Quiet breath curls along your ear as you hear me whisper:
“Keep your eyes closed…”
You obey, and my breath, my touch, disappears for the moment, reappearing at your waist as lips nuzzle the hem of your shirt away, revealing the curve of your navel to my kisses, to slow strokes of my fingertips… soft brushings that trace spirals upon your skin and send tingles though your body… up your spine… and back down to curl your toes.