Heat was coloring the air with droplets of grey as I searched for a spot to hold on to. The jets of the shower head tickle my shoulders at first as I rake my fingers through my hair and think of the last time I tasted you.
I imagine the heat trailing down the small of my back to be your wanting breaths. You outline the tattoo on my side with your tongue and look up at me as if it was the first time you had savored me.
Your memory fades as I bring the shower head down to focus a pulsing dance of water on a spot once neglected. My legs struggle to support my pleasure and the quivering of flooding orgasms. Even as I turn the heat higher, I still feel the warmth of my own release. One hand grasps the massager as the other pushes on the cold tile for balance.
I turn the water off and sit on the edge of the tub to catch my breath.
You enter my mind again like the rush from a collapsing dam.
...But the tears fall gently...
Sunday, February 20, 2011