Buttons

Your teeth encased my bottom lip, tugging just enough that a low sigh escaped. My back was against the wall, your hips pushing mine. Your kiss was soft, but urgent. Your hand reached for my neck, the fingertips curling into my hair, grasping like you never wanted to let go.

Your tongue parted my lips, gently searching for mine. With eyes closed, we let our hands see. My breath caught in my throat, my head dizzy from no oxygen. My legs weak from you.

Your lips replaced your hand on my neck, slowly sliding down. Grazing each inch as if you’d never seen anything like me before.

This was how it was with us.

My knees wrapped around you, as if I had done this a hundred times before. Your hands moved slow, taking in every inch of my thigh as they moved slowly under my skirt. Your breath quickened, grabbing my face so you could come up for air. Your five o’clock shadow grazed my cheek, leaving a trace of red, a trail of where on my body you’ve been.

Your fingers are in my hair, grabbing my hips, trailing my back. They’re everywhere all at once. What we’ve been putting off for so long is finally here. Like a child on Christmas morning greedily ripping open the wrapping paper, I grab at your shirt and tug apart the buttons.

And just as fast as we’re going, that’s how quickly it stopped. My mind came to a screeching decision as my hands froze, fingers mid-pull of a button through your shirt.

“We can’t do this,” I speak the words that we both know are true. Your eyes, like coming out of an indulgent sleep, recognize that I’m right. That as much as neither one of us wants to untangle, we must find our way out of this mess.

With a kiss that leaves you wanting more, I tip-toe away from your front door, looking back to see your eyes full of the same want that started this whole thing hours before. I turn away, knowing that we both will only be able to think of this night until we have our next one.