I can hear you moving around on the other side of the walls. I don’t care for any of it, I’ve missed you. Sex “Hey!” the greeting I might’ve offered is lost in the hug you pull me into, my face crushed against your bony chest. I can hear the fire pumping through your very veins. All in a space as small as ten minutes. This thought brings me thoughtlessly to the elevator. I keep my lips away for a moment, licking them as I gaze at the merchandise I have paid for emotionally a hundred times over. I can hear the fire pumping through your very veins. (: I’m going for a softer approach this time. Those ears. Rubbing against the waistband of my jeans but not allowing your fingers to venture in as I wished they would. I mumble unintelligably into our kiss and you break it to nibble at the sensitive skin at my ear. This illicits a moan from me, my knees buckling from the build-up of several weeks and I have to back up to lean against the counter. I am not seeing them, I am picturing your face. Here. Those hands. My shirt is displaying a fair ammount of freckled and mostly flat stomach from the way you are constantly tiptoeing warm hands up towards my breasts…
