I shied away from your hand even tho I knew what was to become of us. It’s a game I play with myself, I suppose. I’m trying my hardest to avoid what I know is inevitable. I believe you know as well. My body has its own language. My mouth forms the word “No” but cannot find the strength to speak it. I twist just so to brush my leg against your leg. Your hands then build a home, two in fact. One on the inside of my thigh, it’s become so warm there. The other, tracing slow circles on the flatness of my belly. Your mouth seeks out mine, constructing paths along the way, along my shoulder and north against my neck (just a bit farther now!) And then, at last, it finds its place and you devour me. We speak in tongues for a while and I cannot get enough of your taste. The salty sweetness intoxicates me. I am quickly losing my battle over control to the urge of lust. It has such a loud cheering section… I want you to take me and as soon as my mind thinks it, you are over me, tongue finding solace in running over each breast. My body is more vocal now, nearly begging. I am your clay. You move into me so slowly, the newness of your touch leaves me wondering why I pretended in the beginning. This is what I wanted. This is ALL I wanted.